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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter nine rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

You were quiet in the cab ride home. Peter was talking a mile a minute and all you gave him were small smiles and fake laughs every now and then so he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong. He was too happy about how well the evening had gone to notice.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment? You can sleep over if you want.” Peter asked with a shy smile when you got to your floor. You didn’t want to lie in bed all night with Peter when you were literally lying to Peter, so you faked a yawn and stretched a little.

“Not tonight, babe. I’m a little tired.” You lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay Pete?”

Peter looked a little disappointed but you knew he understood.

“Okay, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He went to kiss your lips but you turned so he only got your cheek. You pretended not to see the confusion and hurt in Peters eyes at your actions. You went into your apartment and went out the window immediately, needing to blow off some steam as Venom.

It didn’t take long to find crime, or for crime to find you. You soon heard the shrill cries of a panicked woman.

“Someone help me! He’s got my son!” She screamed. You immediately morphed into Venom and followed the sound of her voice. You climbed to the top of a tall building and scanned the city. Your eyes landed on a man running away with a small child struggling in his grasp. You jumped from the building and ran after the man at full speed. You caught up to him easily and blocked his path. You shot a web at the child and yanked him out of the mans grasp. At that moment, Spider-Man jumped down from the sky and landed between you and the man.

“Hold this.” You demanded and handed the child to Spider-Man. Spider-Man took the child and looked at you, the eyes on his mask squinting in confusion.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as he bounced the child on his hip.

“Eat.” Venom said simply before bolting after the kidnapper who had took off running.

“Find the mom and get him to safety.” Venom called back to Spider-Man.

When you tracked the man down, you snatched the man up and suspended him in the air. Venom quickly swallowed him whole and fled the scene.

You found the mother just in time to see Spider-Man reuniting her with her child.

“Here you go ma’am.” He said kindly. The mother took her child and smiled at him gratefully.

“Thank you Spider-Man. I don’t know how you do it. You’re a hero.” The mom praised. Spider-Man laughed softly.

“I do my best. Stay safe.” Spider-Man waved kindly. The mother thanked him again and left with her son. Spider-Man turned to walk away as well but you stopped him.

“What the hell was that?” You roared. “You just took all the credit for saving that kid. You didn’t even do anything. We saved the kid, we killed the man, you were just the delivery boy. Why didn’t you tell the mom that we helped?” Spider-Man looked as taken aback as a man in a mask could look. Granted, your Y/n was showing. You were speaking in your Venom voice but it was really you talking, and Spider-Man seemed to notice the difference.

“Oh. I’m-I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re kinda scary and the kid was already super freaked out. I didn’t want to make it worse by him seeing you.” Spider-Man answered. He didn’t mean to offend you but his words hurt.

“We’re not scary. We saved that boy.” You said in defense.

“Yeah but, you’re honestly terrifying man.” Spider man laughed awkwardly. “Even I’m scared. A little kid wouldn’t want to see a hideous monster right after nearly being kidnapped. No offense.”

It almost seemed like he was trying to compliment you. Venom was much more hurt by his words than you were. At the end of the day, you could look like a regular person while Venom was stuck looking like a “hideous monster.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” You shouted in your own voice. Spider-Man looked around for who the new voice came from.

“Did that come from you?” He asked.

“It came from us.” You said, back to the low Venom growl.

“See it’s things like that that make you terrifying.” Spiderman continued. “That kid would’ve wet his pants if he saw you. I’m a nice, friendly face that people can trust. Really, no offense dude, but no one wants to see your face.”

You took a menacing step towards him and roared. He backed up instantly and held up his arms in defense.

“Woah woah woah please don’t put your eggs in me!” He shrieked. “I’m just stating the facts. You will never be a hero, if that what’s you’re going for. New York isn’t going to feel safe with a monster like you on the streets. If I told that mom that you were the one to save her kid, she would’ve ran straight to the cops. It might be better if you just went back to the planet you came from.”

He was trying something new. He knew he couldn’t physically beat Venom in a fight, so he tried using his words instead. His girlfriend was so good with words and he wanted to make her proud. All he knew was, he needed Venom out of the city.

“You’re wrong. We’re not a monster.” Venom growled. You just stayed silent.

“Fine. Monster. Alien. Whatever you want to be called, it doesn’t matter.” Spiderman waved his hand. “Because all anyone will call you is dangerous, scary, and a threat. You’re better off leaving earth and never coming back.”

“We’re not leaving.” Venom snarled.

“What’s with the we? Who else is in there?” Spider-Man asked. He reached out to touch you and you threw him against a building.

“Don’t touch us. Our host is in here.” Venom growled. Spider-Man tilted his head.

“Host? So you’re like a parasite?” He asked innocently. Innocent or not, it was the wrong question to ask. Venom picked Spider-Man up by his neck again and dangled him in the air. Spider-Man kicked his legs and tried to break free but couldn’t.

“First, you take credit for our work, then you insult us, and now you call us a parasite? We are not a parasite. We are Venom. And you are dead.” Venom sneered. Venom was too angry to listen to what Mr. Stark said about not eating Spider-Man. He had pushed you too far.

Venom ripped Spider-Mans mask off, wanting to see his identity before you killed him. To your devastating surprise, your terrified boyfriends face stared back at you. He had a bloody nose from being thrown against the wall and his face was red from lack of oxygen. He whispered pleas for mercy as his eyes begged you to let him go. You gasped and immediately dropped Peter onto the ground, looking around frantically for what to do next. He coughed and sputtered for a while while he rubbed his aching neck.

When he looked up, Venom was handing him his mask back with an apologetic look on your big white eyes. Peter shakily took the mask and nodded in thanks. You nodded back and ran as fast as you could back to your apartment. You climbed into your window, transformed back into yourself, and went to throw up in the bathroom.

Peter was Spider-Man. Peter was Spider-Man. And you were Venom. How could it be? How could fate be so cruel? And yet, it made perfect sense. He fit the description. College student from New York who traveled to Washington D.C. at the time of the elevator incident. It explained everything, from the first aid kit on Peters desk, to the constant phone calls, to Ned asking if you knew about Peter, and of course, Mr. Stark. The Stark Internship was being Spider-Man. You should’ve known. The signs were all there. But a part of you just wanted something good for once. Something that the rest of the world couldn’t touch. That something had been Peter. And now, you had to give him up.

You ignored Peters calls and texts for the next six days. You gave him a lame excuse about needed to stay focused on your Cletus Kasady article and so you couldn’t be on your phone. You had a week to tell him you were Venom, according to Mr. Stark. That week was almost up and you had spent it successfully avoiding Peter. You stayed in your apartment as often as you could and only left out the window when you had to go somewhere. Peters texts increasingly got harder and harder to ignore. You didn’t want to ignore his sweet good morning and goodnight texts or science puns, but you couldn’t face him. You just wanted to shake him and ask him why he kept something so big a secret from you. But alas, you said nothing.

On the sixth day of avoiding Peter, you knew you had to go out. You didn’t want to use the front door but you desperately needed to check your mail and it was pouring rain outside. You peered out your peephole and saw no signs of Peter. You quickly opened your door and didn’t even make it two steps before you heard the sound of Peters door opening. Running would be a bad option, right? You slowly turned around and gave Peter and awkward smile. He didn’t smile back.

“You’re avoiding me.” He stated. His voice wasn’t it’s usually happy tone. He sounded hurt and confused. You knew he had every reason to be, but you were hurt and confused too.

“I’m not. I told you I had to write my article.” You lied through your teeth. He didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit.” He scoffed. “I know you haven’t had your final interview with him. It’s in two days, right? How could you be finishing your article when you’re not even done with the interviews?”

You gulped. He saw right through your lies.

“Are you mad at me?” His tone changed as his voice weakened. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart broke. You wanted to hug him and tell him he didn’t do anything wrong, but you couldn’t. He’d been lying to you as long as you knew him. You couldn’t just forgive him and pretend you didn’t know he was Spider-Man.

“No.” You said quietly, suddenly taking extreme interest in your shoes. “No, Petey, I’m not mad.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” His voice cracked and your heart cracked with it. You looked down and shook your head, wishing you had an answer to give him. You looked around before stepping forward and pulling him into a tearful kiss. You let in longer in case it was the last kiss you ever shared with him He kissed you back but you felt his hesitation. His guard was up and you knew why.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed once you pulled away. “I can’t explain. I have to go, Peter. I’m sorry.”

You hated yourself for saying it, he deserved so much better. Peter looked like he was about to cry, confusion clouding his brown eyes. You turned away from him, unable to watch his heart breaking in front of you.

“Is this it?” His voice was quiet. “Are we over?”

“I think we are.” You said without turning around.

“Why the hell did you say that?” You thought. It’s not what you meant. You looked at Peter over your shoulder in time to see a tear run down his cheek. You went to turn back around but Peter grabbed your hand suddenly and pulled you towards the stairs. You didn’t resist and let him tug you, feeling like you owed him as much. You find it slightly ironic know that you knew why he was so strong.

Peter pulled you all the way to the roof, back to the very spot you once referred to as “ours.” He let go of your hand and pointed to the ledge, looking at you with weary eyes.

“Tell me it was all fake. Tell me it was all in my head and we weren’t happy together on that ledge. Tell me I made it all up and you were never as into me as I was into you. Tell me our first kiss, our first time, our first conversation meant nothing to you. Tell me you hate me and feel nothing for me.” He shouted before quieting down. “Because unless you tell me that, I won’t let you end this without giving me a reason. I won’t let you just walk away. Please, don’t end what we have just because you’re scared. You don’t have to be afraid. Not of me.”

“I know.” You whispered. “But you should be afraid of me. In fact, you already are.”

“What?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Afraid—what?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Peter. Or of this. Of us. That’s not it.” You told him truthfully. “I’m afraid of what will happen when you find out I’m not who you think I am. I’m far worse.”

“What are you talking about? I do know you.” He insisted.

“You don’t.” You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes. “You do but you don’t.”

“Then who are you?”

“I’m a monster. We-“ you were cut off by the sounds of people screaming from the street below. Peter looked at you before running to the edge to peer down.

“Something’s attacking the city.” He called back to you. “It looks like a red version of Venom.”

“A red symbiote?” ,you thought, “how can that be?”

Peter turned and looked at you, not wanting to pull out his Spider-Man suit in front of you. Of course, he didn’t know that you were already well aware of his secret.

With the city under attack, your fight with Peter was going to wait. You wiped the tears from your face and walked past Peter, your shoulders brushing as you moved past him. You stared over the edge at the commotion, knowing you were the only one who could give the symbiote a fair fight. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked over your shoulder at Peter, giving him a silent apology.

“I love you, Peter.” You said suddenly, never breaking eye contact. “I love you.”

With that, you jumped off the roof and turned into Venom in mid air. You landed on the ground below and roared at the red symbiote. You knew you had to focus on the fight, but your mind was goign a million miles an hour.

It was the first time you’d ever said those words to Peter, despite feeling them from the moment you met. He was the second boy you ever said those words to, but the first boy where you actually meant it.

You shook your head to free yourself from your thoughts and let out another roar.

“Venom!” The red symbiote smiled. “So glad you could make it! Where’s your friend huh? Is she too scared to come out and say hello to Carnage?”

“Carnage?” You wondered. Since when was there another symbiote on earth and more importantly, how did it know who you were?

You wasted no time in launching yourself at Carnage and attacking. You two wrestled for dominance for a while until Carnage ultimately won. He began to pull Venom off your body and you felt your face became uncovered. Carnage raised his razor sharp fingernails and prepared to slit your throat with his long nails.

“Heads up!” Spider-Man came swinging down and kicked Carnage off of you before he could harm you. You quickly bonded back with Venom and stood up, just in time to see Carnage throwing Peter across the street. You ran to him and helped him up.

“Shoot your web at the same time we do, okay?” You said and held out your wrist. Peter did the same and you both shot a web at the fast approaching Carnage. The combination of your webs was enough to capture Carnage and send him crashing to the floor. He soon broke out of his webbing and began running towards you again.

“Karen! Web grenade!” Peter yelled. He threw a web ball at Carnage and it blew up in the red symbiotes face. While he was distracted, you pulled the symbiote from its host by the ankles. Enough skin of the host was showing for you to take a bite. Carnage yelled in pain and turned to his closest attacker, which happened to be Peter. He picked Peter up and repeatedly slammed him into the pavement. To stop this, you tackled Carnage and spit acid spit in his eyes. Carnage howled and began to run away.

“I’ll be back, Venom.” He snarled. “And when I return, there’s gonna be Carnage.”

You ignored his threat and quickly ran to your unconscious boyfriend, kneeling down beside him. After checking to see that no one was around, you took off his mask and accessed his injuries. His face was beaten pretty badly and his pulse was weak. You transformed back into yourself and took off your hoodie and shirt, leaving you in a sports bra and leggings. You ran your hands over Peters body until you found a way to take the suit off, it was by pressing the spider on the chest. You tore up your shirt and pressed it to the large wound on Peters chest to stop the bleeding. You suddenly got an idea and pressed a hand to his chest, letting Venom go inside him and move around. Venoms healing abilities made the cuts on Peters chest disappear, but he was still knocked out. You pulled your hand away and slipped the hoodie around his body before picking him up with ease. He was adorably light. You quickly ran into the apartment building and went to his room before anyone could see you.

Peter came to about a half hour later just as you were finishing up healing his cuts. You had managed to bathe him and get him into a fresh pair of comfy clothes while his body healed.

Peter slowly woke up and noticed you were straddling his lap. After nearly a week of no contact with you, it felt nice. He missed the way your skin felt on his. He almost jumped out of his seat when he saw his Spider-Man suit hanging up in the closet where you could easily see it.

“Relax. I already know you’re Spider-Man.” You cooed as you put some Neosporin on his busted eyebrow. Peter relaxed under you for a moment as he took in his situation.

“And you’re not mad?” He asked quietly. You were surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.

“I’m not mad.” You smiled softly at him. “Venom is a little offended that you called her ugly though.”

“You’re Venom.” Peter said as he remembered seeing you jump off the building and transforming into the alien before his eyes. It made sense. The “We” was in reference to you. And you had saved his life the first night you met when Venom wanted to eat him. He just couldn’t believe his girlfriend was his arch nemesis this whole time.

“I am. Well, we are. Venom, say hi.” You turned to your left and watched as Venom shyly came out in her snake-like form to greet

“Hi.” Venom hissed.

“Hey.” Peter said back with a tiny bit a fear. He looked at you for reassurance and you nodded.

“You’re no panty dropper yourself, by the way.” Venom grumbled.

“Hey! Be nice or go back inside.” You scolded. Venom chose the later and went back inside.

“Are you mad?” You asked timidly, making him think about it.

“Not mad. Just confused.” He decided. “Is this why you were avoiding me? Because you saw my identity the night we ate dinner with Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah.” You admitted with guilt. “He told me I had a week to tell you. Today’s only day six so he’s gonna be thrilled.”

“He knows?” Peters eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes.” You confessed. “But he knew I was Venom before he knew I was your girlfriend.”

“That’s great news. Then I don’t have to explain anything to him.” Peter looked on the bright side. “Plus, he loves you. Speaking of love…”

Peter put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a passionate, tear filled kiss. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and kissed him deeply, one last time. You slowly pulled apart and you bit your quivering lip.

“We have to break up.” You whispered before pulling your hands away from him.

“What? Why?” Peter asked in shock.

“Look at us Peter. Look what’s become of us.” Your voice wavered. “How can we ever be together when you’re Spider-Man and I’m Venom? We didn’t tell each other these huge things about our lives and we hurt each other because of it. Tell me, do you honestly think I’d ever lay a hand on you?”

“No.” Peter answered. He knew you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body.

“Exactly. I wouldn’t. And yet, I beat you to the point where you couldn’t even stand.” You began to cry from shame. “I should be protecting you, not hurting you.”

“But you didn’t know it was me.” Peter pointed out.

“Exactly Peter! I didn’t know it was you because you didn’t tell me!” You exclaimed. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. But in my defense, I’ve never told anyone I was Spider-Man. May, Ned, Mr. Stark, they all found out on their own. You were the first person I was actually going to tell willingly. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” He sighed, and you believed him. “And what about you? You didn’t tell me you were Venom.” .

“It’s different, Peter.” You shook your head. “Venom isn’t a friendly neighborhood superhero. People see you and the run to you for help. But Peter, I’m what they’re running from. You said it yourself. I’m a hideous monster. I had a reason to hide who I was.”

Peter looked hurt at his own words. He cringed at the memory of insulting you so many times. He couldn’t imagine how it felt to hear that from your own boyfriend.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I said that about Venom, not you. I never would’ve said it if I had known.” Peter said softly, while reaching up to stroke your cheek. You wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch and forget the whole thing.

“That’s the point.” You moved his hand away. “We both would’ve done things differently if we had known. But we didn’t. And that’s why we need to breakup. Before we hurt each other any more.”

“Y/n, please.” Peter’s lips began to tremble. You couldn’t even look at him, not when you knew how much you were hurting him. You knew you’d take one took at his tear filled eyes and run right back into his arms. You had to be strong. You got up off his lap and headed towards the door before you lost your nerve.

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You said with your back to him. “We’re just on different paths. I’m so sorry.”

“Well what if I give up being Spider-Man?” Peter bartered. You looked at him over your shoulder in bewilderment.

“You’d give that up for me?”

“Anything for you.” He said confidently.

“I can’t ask you to do that. And what about Mr. Stark? You’re just gonna give up your mentor to be with me?” You asked him, hoping to knock some sense into him.

“Nothing means anything if I don’t have you.” Peter shot back. He was making it so difficult. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at him for how he was acting.

“You’re not throwing your life away for me.” You shook your head sternly. “I won’t allow it.”

“Well what if you give up Venom?” He suggested.

Venom jumped out and growled at Peter. He stumbled back and you held Venom back like a dog on a leash.

“She would never choose you over us, Spider-Man.” Venom snarled. “We’ve been with Y/n much longer than you have. We’ve dried her tears. We’ve kept her safe. What have you done? Y/n and I are inseparable by choice. I’m inside her. She’s mine.”

“Yea, well, I’ve been inside her too.” Peter shot back with faltering confidence. Your eyes widened at the two of them.

“Both of you, stop it.” You commanded. “This argument is over. I’m sorry, Peter. I’ll never be sorry enough. But I have to go.”

“Where are you going?” He panicked as you went for the door again.

“Home.” you answered, avoiding his gaze.

“This is your home.” He protested. “Here, with me.”

“Not anymore.” You finally looked at him. “I’m going back to San Francisco. I booked the flight while you were knocked out and it leaves in the morning. I can’t be here anymore, Peter. I can’t see you everyday and not want to be with you.”

“Then be with me.” Peter practically yelled.

“We can’t be together. I knew it from the start.” You wiped your face when you remembered your breakdown in your car that one day.

“Y/n, please.” Peter gently took your arm, making you look at him. “Don’t go. I need you. You never even gave me a chance to say it back.”

In the midst of all the chaos and drama, you’d forgotten that you told Peter you loved him. A part of you was glad you finally got to say it, but the bigger part of you ached knowing you’d never hear it back.

“Don’t say it.” You put a half over his mouth for a moment. “Please, just, don’t say it. It’ll be too painful for the both of us. Just let me go. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. You and I not being together will never be okay.” Peter cried, leaving his sweet brown eyes a miserable red.

“Peter…” you breathed, hardly able to take it.

“Please don’t leave me. Everyone else has left me. And you’ve never been like everyone else.” Peter gave one last attempt to make you stay. You looked at him in his entirety. You took him all in. His wavy hair, his doe eyes, his slightly crooked nose and his eyebrow that stood all the way up. All the things you first fell in love with that day you knocked on his door to give him his mail. That seemed that a million years back but it was really only a few months. Your heart broke at the sight of Peter, as beautiful as ever, standing before with a broken heart. And even worse, you were the one that broke it.

“Stay.” His voice was barely above a whisper but he could see you beginning to weaken. He took his opportunity to beg to reconsider. A little gleam of hope bubbled in Peters chest. You stood up straighter, cleared your throat, and tore your eyes away from your ex-boyfriend.

“Peter Parker, I will love you until my lungs are empty. But I cannot stay.” You said firmly. Just like that, his hope was gone. Before he could say anything else, you ran out his bedroom door, through his kitchen, and out the front door. You locked your door behind you and climbed into bed, crying at the loss of your teenage love. You knew Peter could hear every tear that fell with his heightened hearing, so you whispered heartfelt apologies and hoped he’d find a way to forgive you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #iron man

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harvestdew · 4 years ago

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Yo sorry if this question takes a while to awnser, but if Cleo and Kiki were NPCs what do you think thief heart events will be like? If you don't want to awnser this that's fine, I'm just curious.

no problem! i actually need a break from my essay anyway i wrote 4 pages and it took me 5 hours/made me stressed, so this is a good way to decompress for me!

kiki’s 2 heart event - standard, boring 2 heart event... enter pelican town on a sunny day anywhere from 9am to 4pm. you see kiki on her way out of pierre’s and her grocery bag breaks. you have 4 options:

ask “are you okay?” and help her (+30 friendship). kiki is embarrassed someone saw her, but says “thank you so much for helping me! that was pretty funny, wasn’t it? i guess i bought too much”

“i didn’t see anything” (no effect on friendship). kiki just laughs it off

ignore her/do nothing (no effect on friendship). kiki goes “...” before telling herself she’s so clumsy and running off

“wow, that was dumb of you.” (-50 friendship) kiki, trying to remain deadpan, responds “yeah, you’re right”

kiki’s 4 heart event - (similar to leah’s 4 heart event) enter kiki’s house when she’s there. for some reason, she doesn’t notice you entered and you hear someone else talking unintelligibly on the landline, but she isn’t responding. after a while, she hangs up without saying anything, notices you, and jumps, asking “have you been here the whole time?” you have 3 options:

lie and say “i just got here” (no effect on friendship). kiki sighs and says “oh, okay. that’s good”

"who was that?” (no effect on friendship). kiki goes “...” and tells you it was just an annoying telemarketer. then she asks if she can help you with anything

"are you okay?” (+20 friendship). kiki tells you she just got an unwanted call from someone she doesn’t want to talk to but doesn’t elaborate. she mentions being worried someone’s going to come over, then realizes you’re still there and laughs it off as a joke, trying to cover it up with a random fact about tulips

kiki’s 6 heart event - (similar to haley’s 6 heart event) enter the cindersap forest from 5pm to 9pm while it’s raining. kiki spots you (“!”) and asks for help, explaining her cat (ghost) ran away because she didn’t properly lock her door and the storm blew it open (this literally happened to me and my cat didn’t come home for 3 days LOL). she explains how important her cat is to her. you have 2 options:

"i’ll help you find him!” (+30 friendship)

“just get another cat?” (-30 friendship)

either way, you can walk around the cindersap forest and click on a bunch of shrubs. the cat will come out of one of them and you bring it back to her. kiki hugs you and says she felt too guilty to ask anyone else for help. she also points out because it was raining you should go back inside before you get sick, so she offers to walk you home

also: fun fact the farmer replaces sebastian in here because this was something i wrote for him, but it feels like a good 6 heart one imo

kiki’s 8 heart event - done here!

kiki’s 10 heart event - (similar to emily and maru’s) you get a letter in the mail from kiki that says something along the lines “come by the forest tonight!” if you enter the cindersap forest from anytime between 7pm to 11pm ONLY during the summer you’ll trigger the event. it turns out she wanted to look at constellations with you and borrowed maru’s telescope. kiki starts talking about how she was figuring out how to make up for you finding her cat but didn’t want to do anything boring. you only have 1 option:

"wait, is this a date?” (no effect on friendship)

kiki gets MEGA embarrassed, explaining she thought it was obvious but isn’t going to be mad if you don’t like her. you now have 3 options:

"wait, i do like you!” (no effect on friendship). kiki goes, “seriously? you mean it? i’m so happy!” and you resume the date. before the cutscene ends, she has you look at some stars and explains the story of altair & vega which originated in china (“have you heard about the story of altair and vega? it’s about a cowherd and a weaver girl who fell in love but were separated by a river which is supposed to be the milky way. it’s sad, but once a year a bunch of magpies form a bridge and they reunite. romantic, right?”)

“i’m sorry, i don’t like you” (no effect on friendship). kiki tells you she understands, explaining you’re just as good of a friend and will be fine

“ew” (-30 on friendship). kiki sighs and tells her she better return maru’s telescope

as for cleo i have no idea if cleo would be a marriageable npc... we’ll see. let’s get to her heart events though (excluding her 10 heart event)

cleo’s 2 heart event - enter cleo’s room whenever she’s in there. cleo asks why you didn’t knock out of annoyance, but gets over it to complain she smells like fish (because she’s a fisherwoman LOL). you have 2 options:

“if you hate the smell of fish so much, why are you a fisherman?” (no effect on friendship). cleo explains she picks up fishing because that’s the 1 condition kiki has if she wants to stay with her free of rent. she complains about her cousin for trying to teach her some work ethic, then goes on to say she can’t wait til she and whatever sam’s band is called gets famous and she can stop fishing

“not my problem” (-30 friendship). cleo gets irritated and tells you “look, i didn’t ask to be a fisherwoman, okay? i hate farming and mining doesn’t make that much money. why are you even in here?”

cleo’s 4 heart event - enter pelican town any time during the day when it’s sunny. you overhear haley berating cleo with a magazine (even though they’re friends), who asks why she never mentioned she modeled. cleo gets annoyed and tells haley to back off because she doesn’t want to talk about it. you have 2 options:

do absolutely nothing (-30 friendship). haley finally walks off; cleo looks at you and goes, “what are you looking at? don’t listen to stuff that isn’t any of your business”

tell haley to stop (+30 friendship). haley sighs and apologizes to cleo for being nosey and leaves. cleo awkwardly thanks you and says something offhand like “i guess you’re cool” before running off

make up an excuse to pull cleo aside like “cleo, i don’t get how to use my fishing rod, can you help?” (+50 friendship). cleo thanks you for not making a huge scene and sighs. she explains haley figured out how used to be a model and wouldn’t stop asking why she quit. she also mentions she knows you probably want to know and claims it’s just “stupid personal garbage” and “the modeling industry is shit”

cleo’s 6 heart event - enter cleo’s room whenever she’s in there again. you find her mumbling to herself out of annoyance before she notices you and greets you. then, she explains she just figured out that everyone in her old band seems to be doing really well and she’s worried they’re going to get a gig for the band SHE started. you have 2 options:

ask “what band?” (no effect on friendship). cleo explains her mom wouldn’t let her go to a gig for the band to punish her, leaving them without a bassist. she says when she snuck out to go, the lead guitarist had immediately replaced her and decided to kick her out of the band, which is why cleo ran away out of humiliation. plus, she thinks their new music sounds like shit

“who cares? you don’t need them!” (+30 friendship). cleo goes silent before telling you you’re SO right and tells you that good-for-nothing guitarist that kicked her out wasn’t even that good of a guitarist!

“maybe you were a bad bassist” (-50 friendship). cleo gets defensive and tells she was a perfectly good bassist. then she sighs and says she wonders if she’s not as good as she thinks she is and should just stick to fishing, before telling you to get out

cleo’s 8 heart event - (similar to sam’s 8 heart event) cleo shows up to your door when you wake up and gives you a flyer for a battle of the bands in zuzu city. the next day, you go to the venue with cleo and she realizes she’s going up against her old band before freaking out. she tells you she doesn’t know what to do because she’s scared she’ll mess up and prove them right. you have 3 options:

"you can do this!” (+50 friendship). cleo tells you that’s cheesy but you’re right. she goes on to say “screw all of them! i don’t care!”

“who cares? show them what they’re missing!” (+50 friendship). cleo gets pumped and agrees with you before saying, “ugh, what was i thinking? i don’t care what any of them think”

"don’t be a baby” (no effect on friendship). cleo goes “ugh” before begrudgingly admitting you’re right

either way, you get to hear them play like in sam’s 8 heart event. it should correspond with whatever music genre you chose for him in his own events. sam’s band also wins and cleo makes fun of her old band. the lead guitarist gets annoyed and tries to fight with her over it. you have 2 options:

“get him cleo!” (no effect on friendship). cleo punches the lead guitarist off the screen the way pierre punches morris at the community center

“ignore him, he’s just a loser” (no effect on friendship). cleo says she guesses taking the higher road is better and doesn’t wanna mess up her hands

regardless of what option you pick, at the end of the cutscene, cleo thanks your farmer for encouraging her not to giving up and how she couldn't have done it w/o your help

okay that’s it! i’m sorry for taking so long to write this, but i hope it was interesting and i promise really appreciate the ask <3 it was fun to write

#answered #mine

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fandomscombine · 4 years ago

Text

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows the collapse of The Umbrella Academy during their youth and having the family back together after years apart for the very first time.

I have mashed up the information and some events from both the comics and the tv series. So a heads up for readers who haven’t read the comics, it was hinted in S2 but in the very beginning of the comics, it’s canon that Reginald is indeed an Alien.

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC: 4786 (never had I written so much for one part before!)

Contains: Angst. Death- Reginald and Ben (so not exactly a spoiler, but while writing Ben’s scene had my eyes water a bit.) Crap childhood and the Hargreeves being a mess.

A/N: You guys are literally the best! Reading your replies and comments about how much you enjoyed part 1 and are looking forward to the rest of the series, really warms my heart!

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

March 21, 2019.

Never had you thought that you would be back here, looking up the gates of The Umbrella Academy, 13 years later.

There was and still is so much pain associated with this building, this entity, this identity of The Umbrella Academy. That you hadn’t seen it coming- well not exactly completely blind to it. Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ upbringing of children-your siblings, your childhood- had always been shit but you had never come close to imaging it to be as emotionally and mentally damaging as it did.

Children at aged 7 finding out they had powers was great. To a kid, it was a dream come true to be a real-life superhero. It all started out as fun and games but soon, training started to be competitions to outshine your siblings-your competitors whist being told to work together at the same time. It was quite a hard concept to grasp as a young kid, but in order to get any attention and praise from a distant father, a kid would do anything.

By the age of 9, the superhero team of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ was officially announced to the world. The group consisted of the 7 Hargreeves children, publicly known as: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumor, The Séance, The Boy, The Horror, and Foresight.

An 8th child with seemingly no superpower, had been secretly tucked away, hidden from the world and too, distanced away from her own siblings. It was though Vanya Hargreeves didn’t exist.

You did try your best to spend time with Vanya and keep the Sunday sister bonding time with her, but with all your training and missions, combined with all her violin lessons and some other private lessons she often go on with in long periods of time - though she wouldn’t mention what they were- there was absolutely no time to be in each other’s presence, so soon you along with the rest of your siblings slip away from Vanya.

At age 10 was a big year for the Hargreeves siblings, they had kind of successfully protected the city of Paris from the chaos of the Eiffel Tower being a spaceship- yes it did flew away but at least the people were saved- The mission became world wide news and soon every move they made caught the public’s eye. With this led to more intense training and additional etiquette workshops to better the group’s public image.

Reginald being a helicopter parent took a toll on the children, who had coped in their own ways. Luther taking the role of ‘leader’ to heart, Diego with his never ending hero complex, Allison using her power to get whatever she wanted, Klaus fell into the world of drugs and alcohol, Five-the rebel who thinks he’s smarter than everyone even dad, Ben into the world of video games, Vanya became ever more quiet and more to herself, and you-a yes person to dad who calls you his most valuable asset that has ever crossed his path, never wanting to let him down.

Things really started to get out of hand at the ripe old age of 13. Breakfast had been a mess, Five had a massive argument with dad and stormed out of the house. You ran after him, caught his coat just as he passed the gate- the very gate you are standing in front of now.

‘FIVE! WAIT!’

‘WHAT?’ He turned, looking angrier as ever.

‘Please don’t leave.’ You place your hand on his shoulder- damn when did he become taller than you? ‘You both can talk this out. Rationalized things out’ You pleaded.

He shook your hand away. ‘Talk? REALLY Y/N? You think good old dad would dare listen to someone younger than him? TO HIS OWN CHILDREN?’ He snorted. ‘You are daft y/n. I thought you were smarter than this-‘ Five sighed. ‘But a guess you are too much of a daddy’s girl to see things clearly.’

‘I know you didn’t mean that’ You stammered, not letting the tears fall. ‘that’s just your anger talking.’

‘oh but I do mean it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get going to prove dad wrong.’

Five makes a step forward but you blocked his way

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY Y/N’ He pushes you. ‘I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYMORE.’

As you fell to the ground, you see him blip away.

That was the last time anyone had seen Number Five and his final words still haunts you to this day.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

To make matters worst from having a sibling disappear and to never come back was to have another sibling lose his life.

The media was quick to publish the news. It was all the tabloid and news outlets seem to care about. The headline would vary but all in all still carry the same heart-breaking news. Be it from ‘The Horror dies in mission.’ , ‘The Umbrella Academy loses the life of another of its members.’ to ‘RIP to teen superhero Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror.’

Oh Ben, dear Ben. Why must he be taken away? You thought. Why?

The mission was meticulously planned and prepared for. You were sure to have extracted all the information on what was to go down and what the villains’ moves were from your vision.

You had memorized that every aspect of that dream- you had 2 weeks to prepare. Everyone was supposed to be safe, but why wasn’t Ben?

Why didn’t reality play out as to what you foresaw? You had never slipped up before. Why had the one time you did cost you the life of your beloved brother? Why?

While sobbing your eyes out onto Ben’s grave, a memory of what seemed so long ago came rushing back.

>>‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’. <<

‘I’m sorry Ben…’ You choked out.

‘I’m so sorry Benny…’ Wiping his gravestone of your tears. ‘I—I got you killed. I am a monster. I am THE monster.’ You hiccupped. ‘It is MY job to keep everyone same, to do the reconnaissance, to ensure that everyone in the frontline is safe. It is my power to foresee what could go wrong, to avoid disastrous mistakes. And….and I failed, Ben. I failed. I failed you, dad, The Umbrella Academy.’

‘I miss you Ben so much…’ You lie down with an arm across the lawn. Picturing that is was him you’re hugging, that he is really there.’ more than your annoyingly sweet ass could ever believe. I wish you were here Ben, safe and sound. And if you could hear me Ben, I wish you could forgive me.’

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the emotional guilt you’re feeling but a warm breeze passes through like a warm embrace lightening the heavy burden within.

A soft whisper of reassurance and familiar words brings you to peaceful rest.

‘I forgive you y/n. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

You stirred from your sleep as you felt yourself lifted from the ground.

‘Careful Diego! You might wake her up.’ You hear Klaus say.

All this trauma, stress and was just too much to handle by minors and as quickly as all your powers came, the same goes for the people who left.

Klaus was the first to leave the academy at age 16, who choose to be self-checked at a rehab centre, stating that that was a way healthier environment then this shithole that was ‘home’. Who could blame him? Especially when you yourself were planning to leave.

As much as you wanted to get up and leave in the dead of night, you can’t. You don’t have the heart to leave your remaining siblings behind. No, not in this environment. If you were to leave, you wanted them to go with you, to at least know they would have a good life ahead.

Under Reginald’s watchful eye, it would take time to sort the plan out, but it would be worth it.

And you know just the person to talk to.

‘Heyya Diego.’

‘You’re up to something y/n/n and I don’t want to be in any part of it.’ He says without glancing your way. ‘Not after the pineapple incident.’ Diego’s eyes finally landing on you.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. ‘Oh come on Diegs! That was years ago! It was just a childish prank—’

Diego gives you the finger.

‘-Oi! It is not MY fault what Luther did to you; besides you were supposed to take the EAST stairwell, NOT the West.’ You say matter of factly, shaking your head. ‘Ughh no, we are getting out of topic. Diego, I need your help and you have to promise not to tell anyone-’

‘You’re devising a getaway plan, aren’t you?’

Your brows scrunched together. ‘How’d you—’

‘I’m not blind y/n, I recognised the look of someone who too is planning to escape.’

You raise a brow. ‘Too?’

‘Yes, Too.’ Diego edges closer to you. ‘Now, why don’t we save the trouble of potentially ruining each other’s individual schemes and join forces. Team up. More brainpower. And whatnot. Deal?’ Offering his pinky out.

You ignored the outstretched gesture. ‘What happened to being a lone wolf huh? I thought that was your thing now?’ You countered.

‘Like a said y/n, the more brainpower, the higher the success.’ He explained. ‘Say, we do manage to get out or perhaps just leave, like Klaus. Where would we go? Where would you? Hmm?’

‘I… I…’ You honestly don’t know.

‘Exactly. That’s why we team up and once we’re out of here. We stick together for a while till we get back on our feet and figure out what we want then go our separate ways.’

You nod, digesting his words. It seems like a solid plan with ample flexibility before deciding on what to do with your life after. But….

‘Okay…..’

‘Okay!’

‘…On one condition. It would not only you and me. We’ll try to get to convince the others to come along too.’

‘What?! y/n no, that’s too many people on the plan-‘

‘More brainpower, higher the success. Your words Diego. Not mine.’ You retaliated. ‘Besides, we can’t just leave everyone here. It’s miserable here. They’re family Diego.’

‘Fine we’ll tell Luther and Allison.’

‘Everyone, Diego.’ You stared him down. ‘And that includes Vanya. No buts.’

‘Ugh.Fine.’ He points a finger towards your face. ‘We tell Luther, Allison AND Vanya. But I swear y/n if anyone of them rats us out or backs out of the plan. We leave them behind. No pity if they choose to stay in this shithole of a house. They are old enough to make their own decision and to face the consequences.’ He leans back to the bed’s headboard. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ You interlock your fingers, sealing the pinky promise.

It was easy to get Vanya on board, as she was the child that received the crappiest treatment from dad. Allison was hesitant at first but after convincing her the real world had so much more to give compared to that of the imaginary perfect bubble she created for herself here in the academy with the use of her power, she was on board.

Luther that ever loyal ‘leader’ of the academy would never dare cross dad, the idea wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. Diego had failed to make him see reason and so have you. Luther only came around to be a part of the escape because Allison had agreed to it.

It took almost 6 months. The time has come. You all had saved up enough money to rent a loft apartment downtown and pooled enough to last at least 3 months on your own.

At 1:00 am. All the remaining 5 Hargreeves are to ready with their backpacks to sneak out in groups, boys and girls, and meet at the rendezvous point, Giddy’s Doughnuts. There, a van would be available for them to drive to the apartment.

The boys were to go first, as to let Diego deactivate the security features of the house while Luther stands guard.

It was only supposed to take 15 minutes tops, it was 20 minutes past now. Something was wrong.

Deciding as a team to check up on the boys, you, Allison and Vanya head down to the foyer.

Upon arrival, you see Luther with his hands covering Diego’s face, Diego who seem limp as a log.

‘Luther what’s going on?’ Allison’s voice rang out beside you.

‘I’m sorry….’ He looks down unto the unconscious Diego in his arms. ‘I just… I just couldn’t.’

‘Number Eight! How could you! How could all of you! Three! Seven!’

The room seemed to turn colder by the sound of the voice. You turn and see Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

‘Dad…’

‘YOU ARE ALL A DISGRACE.’ Reginald spitted.

‘But dad!’ Luther pleaded. ‘I was the one who informed you about their plan!’

‘ENOUGH! NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISHNESS, BACK TO BED---’

‘That’s right NO MORE dad!’ Shouted Allison. She glances at dad then at Luther. A frown etched her face as she commanded. ‘I heard a rumor that you couldn’t move your legs.’

The effect was immediate. The lower half of Reginald and Luther stayed still as a rock while they tried their best to break free. But alas, Allison had the upper hand. ‘I heard a rumor you let us go freely.’ At once, both men calmed down.

And to add insult to injury. Allison focused on Reginald and rumoured ‘And you would leave Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Y/n Hargreeves and Allison Hargreeves alone.’

Luther’s betrayal felt like a stab in the back.

Moving on and creating a new life from the ground up for oneself was hard but having your siblings with you had definitely made it easier.

It took a while to get the hang of things, being 4 young adults with nothing. You missed Mom and Pogo, but you knew that they, like Luther would stick with Dad.

Vanya was the first to take up stack, she provided the finance to pay rent and groceries with the salary she would get from her violin performances at the local theatre. Soon Allison would also chip in from the money she received from her acting gigs.

Diego showed interest into joining the police academy while you wanted to get away from the lifestyle as much as possible, opted to move across the country and pursue tertiary education-because that was what normal 18-year-old do right? For once you want to be ordinary and what better way than experience what student life is all about.

Though there is one teensy detail that was hindering your application. You were home-schooled by your robot mom. There weren’t report cards or grades that any university would accept. Even if there were, you wouldn’t want to go back to that dreadful house.

Both not wanting to lose your newfound passion, you and Diego had an enormous favour to ask.

‘NO not a chance!’ Allison crossed her arms. ‘It’s unethical!’

‘Yes we know-‘ you replied.

‘But it’s the only way.’ Diego reasoned. ‘It’s not fair for y/n and I to not be able to follow our dreams and to finally FINALLY move on with our lives, Ally. While you and Vanya get to live out yours.’

You nodded along. ‘We ask you just this one thing and we’re out of your hair.’

Allison looked between you two as if to decided whether it would be worth it. ‘Fine, just this once.’ She sighs. ’And this doesn’t get out kapeesh?’ pointing her finger.

‘kapeesh.’

‘I’m gonna miss you so much!’ Vanya admitted.

You pulled both your sisters into a hug. ‘I’m miss you gals more!’

Allison wipes her tears away. ‘Don’t forget us okay? Remember we’re only a text away.’

‘Tell Diego that I’m gonna miss kicking his butt when he come back from his officer training, ye?’

Over the years you hadn’t lost touch with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve all together physically, but you do video chat every once and a while and you have a general tab on each of your siblings. Vanya is currently the 3rd chair violin at her orchestra, Diego had channelled his inner batman and believe to be a vigilante keeping the streets and public safe.

As for Klaus, Diego had told you that he hasn’t managed to keep off his ~happy place~ and had seen him in and out of nightclubs.

Allison….Well who wouldn’t know about what she’s up to. A-list celebrity with numerous critically acclaimed movies to her name, one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple and amazing role model for mothers. Ahh Claire that sweet angel, who says that you’re her favourite aunt, that smile of hers melts your heart.

The last you’ve seen of Luther is when his journey to the moon has been televised a couple of years ago. There’s been no news since.

The rattling of the gate brings you back to the present.

‘AH yes, Miss.y/n. He has been expecting you.’

‘Pogo!’ You exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

‘So I’m not to late then? Where’s mom?’

‘Grace is with Sir Reginald, my dear.’ Pogo leads you up the stairs.

Looking around, everything is as pristine as usual. ‘I see that nothing’s change’ You noted.

‘Yes, well I was asked to keep it as it always was.’

He opens the door to Reginald’s quarters. There on the bed was dad, looking sickly pale but still alive unlike to what you had seen in your vision.

Beside him wiping away the sweat on his forehead was mom. ‘Oh, my dear y/n I’m glad you could join us.’ She says as if years hadn’t gone by without your presence.

You reach the foot of the bed. ‘Dad…’ you begin.

But Reginald cuts you off. ‘Number Eight. Glad to see that logical and curious side of yours overrides that irrational emotive side.’ His voice weak yet still holds its signature condescending tone. ‘It is your disposition to the voice of reason and mysteries of the unknown that led you here, despite your supposed hatred towards me-‘

‘There’s no grey area, I do hate you.’

He waved his hand to dismiss your interruption.

‘As I was saying, it is of this reason- your control over the impulsiveness that is apparent to all of your siblings who lack control- is why you are my favourite.’

You scoffed.

‘It is true, my dear y/n.’

‘Oh please. You only see me as a “valuable asset”. Remember?’

Reginald nods. ‘I do, but I believe the exact words were “You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed”. Thus, implying that your ability is the asset not you.’

‘Sure, just rub it in don’t you.’ Rolling your eyes.

‘I hope that you do too remember that also in my own words that you were and still are “the cleverest of the bunch”.’

‘So why am I here, you’re clearly not dead.’ You looked at him again. You’ve never seen your dad so fragile ever. ‘….yet. So there must be something to do with that. Perhaps find your killer?’

On the bedside table, you took note of the cup of tea and medication. Your brain is in super speed, running through ideas on what could have cause him to be so sickly.

‘It could be your meds…..’ You look up. ‘Mom who else has access to Dad’s medication?’

‘Just us dear, Pogo and I.’

‘Number Eight there is no killer. I am dying because of old age, it is quite normal for-‘

‘NO No but the mortality rate is 350 years for the species of—’

‘Ah!’ Reginald’s face showed of surprise which slowly turned into cunningest. ‘so, you know then’ He chuckled.

‘Yes.’

‘Since when?’ He asked genuinely curious.

‘When we first showed signs of powers, some of your notes were written in a language I did not recognised.’ You recalled. ‘So, I did some digging, it took a while but when I found about the secret safe under this very bed and what it contained. Everything became clearer.’

‘Very good. Y/n. Nobody knew about the safe expect myself.’ He looked over at Pogo. ‘Did you know of it?’

‘No, Sir.’ Pogo admitted. ‘Not until now.’

‘Very well indeed. You knew all this time, yet you didn’t say anything. Why?’

‘Because it didn’t matter.’ You shrugged. ‘The only thing that matter in this household was our powers.’

‘Did the others-‘

‘No, they didn’t know. I hadn’t told a soul. It is not my secret to share.’

‘And soon it will be yours.’

‘What?’

‘Number Eight, it is without a doubt my time here is limited. Perhaps as little as an hour.’

Never had you seen someone talk about their death like this. You shiver at the thought.

‘By the fact that you are here now and had seen a vision of me dead means that the block I had place on you to prevent you peering into events regarding me is failing. Failing as my health is.’

You want to be angry. How dare he supress your power. But you stand still as a rock by his confession. ‘why?’ A soft whisper was all you could muster. ‘why?’

‘Because I had to keep my real identity a secret. To prevent you from exposing me.’ He coughed. ‘But turns out, you hadn’t need to use your powers to know that, as what you’ve told me.’ He looked at you with watering eyes. ‘You found that all on your own, yet you did not disclose anything.’ He reached out for your hand to which you accept. ‘For which I am delighted that at least I can say that I have one child, a daughter to be proud of.’

A daughter to be proud of.

You would like to think that you are strong and independent. And those are true. But that small child that all that wanted was to experience a parent’s love and affection. That emotional support of that small child which you thought you had successfully tucked away came clawing its way back to the surface.

‘y/n’ You had almost missed it, wiping away your tears, you leaned closer.

‘Listen carefully….’ Your dad’s chest was barely moving. It was a struggle for him to get the following words out. ‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

You never head what came next. Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Under the setting sun, Reginald looked at peace.

A half moon shines brightly above the house. It had been 3 days and 7 Hours since it happened.

Exhaustion is starting to catch up with you but there is still so much to do.

News channels had broadcasted the breaking news of your father’s death.

You had personally called your siblings to deliver the news, they are to arrive tomorrow for the funeral at noon.

Luther who had been expecting to relay dad his daily report status on the space radio, cussed at you in anger-those were the first words you heard in 12 years- calmed down and said that he will be there in 3 days, in time for the funeral.

‘Sweetie, I brought you some tea.’

‘Thanks mom.’ You take a sip. ‘Hey mom did you think you’re gonna be alright now that you know…. That dad is gone?’

She runs her fingers to your hair. ‘I’m gonna be fine dear, I am stronger than you know.’

You smile at her. You just can’t help but to think what’s gonna happen to her now that your dad is gone. Pushing that thought away-like she said, I am stronger than you know.

‘Now, why don’t we get you to bed.’ She cuts you off before you can say a word. ‘Uh uh. You have done so much already. You need rest especially with the funeral in 9 hours. Pogo and I can handle the remaining task.’

‘Thanks again mom.’

She tucks you into bed. ‘Good night y/n/n. Sweet Dreams.’ She kisses the top of your head. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too mom.’ As she leaves your room, you realised that you didn’t want to be alone. ‘Mom…’ You called out, almost childlike.

‘Yes dear.’ Grace makes her way back in.

‘Well you stay with me? Sing to me until I fall asleep?’

‘Ofcourse dear.’ She smiles, pulling up a chair beside your bed.

The lull of your mother’s voice sends you to sleep with the memories of the childhood before power. When everything was simple. When there was love in this household.

You awoke to sounds of screams and flashes of blue light. You hurry to your window, it shows the courtyard, a ball of blue chaos small black figures.

You pull on your jacket and ran downstairs, the clock in the foyer shows 11:37am. Crap you overslept! But that means…..that the figures you saw were your siblings. There are early….that’s new.

You arrived in the courtyard just as you see Klaus throws a fire extinguisher at the blue light.

‘What are you doing?!’ Shouted Luther.

‘What is that gonna do?’ Allison questioned.

‘I don’t know!!’ Klaus turned around ‘Do you have a better idea?—Oh hey y/n! Nice to see you!’ He ran over and gave you a tight hug. ‘What a family reunion ehh?’

Before you could reply, the ball of blue gave out a crackle of electricity.

‘Everyone get behind me!’ Luther pushes in front of everyone.

‘Yeah! Get behind us.’ Diego chimed in, pushing Vanya closer to you.

Vanya ignores Diego, trying to get a better look herself. ‘It looks like something is coming through!’

The ball of light exploded, the sudden burst of energy was blinding that you had to cover your eyes.

Then nothing, total darkness.

THUD. You heard Vanya scream.

‘Argh!’

The blue chaos had expelled something….someone.

Luther was the first to speak. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Show yourself!’ said Diego.

As a collective group, you walked towards the mystery person.

Your eyes go wide with shock. No it can’t be, it’s impossible. You must be seeing things.

‘Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?’ wondered Klaus.

Klaus looked around and saw that everyone showed that same face of disbelief. Pleased to know that it wasn’t the drugs, he snickered. ‘Now THIS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FAMILY REUNION.’

Little Five who didn’t seem to have aged a day since you last saw him,

It’s been years but seeing him looking like he did back when you last saw him, you recall the last words he had shouted at you.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

Five looks down at himself drowned in tattered oversize clothes, wining. ‘SHIT!’

Something is wrong, something is very wrong and you know it.

No way was this all a coincidence for your father to warn you about some impending doom and have Five to reappear 17 years later. It must be related somehow…What’s next you thought……For Ben to come back to life too?

END OF PART 2

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Taglist [All]: @gruffle1

Taglist [TUA]:@herecomesthesun1969 @alabaster1223 @ultraviolet-m @winterierwriter @lordofthunderthr @grapesauze @xbarrjallenx @white-wolf-buckaroo @yoheyyosup @infinitystones2018 @94seun @buckynatlarry @thegirlwholikestomanythings @just-some-stars @97yrm @2cuteforyourlies @e-bendy @criminallyhamilton @aqarath @change-the-world-someday @sambucky8 @spankin-soda @big-galaxy-chaos @cosmichellfire

Feel free to tell me to you want to be tagged for the series or for all/any other of my fics.

Would love to hear your opinion on the series so far too!

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the-slasher-files · 4 years ago

Text

My Verisons - Slashers pt 1

INCLUDES JASON

Just my opinion. Everyone interprets them differently but this is how I see the slashers. Some of this is based specifically on a certain movie in a series or could be just inspiration I’ve gotten from other writers. If you read my writing this will probably make sense of them, just seeing things from my perspective. This includes if they can talk, appearance, how you met, how/why you are together, nature/character, dead or alive or both, etc. Also please let me know if you feel the same or have different opinions! I am always curious about how others see them!

JASON VOORHEES

appearance:

I adore the look of Jason from part 7 and Manhattan with classic elements. The size and shape perfect from those movies. However, to me, Jason would wear worn out jeans and some sort of button up with a utility belt of some kind, closer resembling the outfit from part 6. He always wears his work or hiking boots. Also probably always wears his gloves while outside

To me, Jason is more alive than dead, but just with the regeneration powers. He has very heavy scarring on half of his face that goes down his neck and side. Some wounds you don't think will ever heal still remain. On his back he is scarred by god knows what could be from defending the camp, or from the decomposition process. It looked like he had been attacked by a bear. Some wounds exposing the muscle and some you could see bone.

His skin is a greyish colour but you can still tell there is some kind of blood flow because of his ability to get hard, plus I feel sometimes he might blush

His dick is a big one to put it frank lol. like 8 inches and thick. He doesn't have any hair down there or really anywhere.

his nature/character:

I honestly believe if you manage to get on his good side, he is such a sweet person. No matter what baggage you come with he will never judge because he was bullied and tormented.

I feel he might have some form of mental illness because of his past and loneliness from not having anyone around. (separation anxiety, abonnement issues, maybe some depression in the winter)

Once he has his person, he will never let go and the thought of losing you is literally crippling. It is his worst fear, so he does everything in his power to make you safe and stay with him.

He will listen to absolutely everything and try to understand everything from your perspective, except when it comes to your safety that is his number one priority even if it makes you upset.

He is a very hard worker

Extremely respectful of his person, whether it’s of their space or stuff, it doesn’t matter

A very gentle giant with you. I would use the expression “he would never hurt a fly” but we all know that is not the truth

I feel he might have a creative side to him, maybe it’s writing since he can’t express himself fully, maybe he can really draw, maybe it’s woodworking, I could even see him playing an acoustic guitar that he had stolen. He is completely self-taught

He is extremely curious about everything except other humans or the city

He also thinks Humans are a waste, all they do is destroy, fuck and hurt one another. Not to mention what they do to his woods

Big animal lover. I feel like he might have taken a dog once from the campers he murdered.

I think he is pretty sensitive to noise. Hates loud music or loud trucks, even if you have the tv a little loud he finds it distracting and disorienting

Extreme temper, as we know. If he ever gets mad at you he will likely walk it off, but sometimes if you push him enough dom Jason comes out. Fucking you against the wall with the machete at your neck, but after he would feel terrible.

This leads into the next topic but he is 100% the strong, silent type - They're silent not because they have nothing to say, but because they don't have to fill up the air with words. They don't need to be looked at to dominate. They already dominate, just by looking at themselves, but they're serene about it.

Can he talk?

For some reason, I have always thought that maybe he could talk, but only short small words extremely few and far between. I don’t really think he can express himself fully even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t raise his voice above a low talk. If you were in danger he would never call your name or yell.

He might whisper “I love you” or give you small pet names but he would use them sparingly

How you guys met/how you were caught:

So I have had this idea for a while, and I think it would make sense, but you have to be a brave person to be with him. So my idea is that your family owned a cabin on Crystal Lake but in the 80s when the killings began your family would never go back until you inherited it. The cabin sat for a long time, unused, rotting away.

You drove up there to look at it, and you took it upon yourself to pretty much redo the whole thing and fix up the woodland that surrounded it. As you did this it was early spring into summer. You knew you were being watched and followed. However, you were never scared of this presence, it was almost like a protective energy. You almost welcomed it. Sometimes you could see him just watching and observing, sometimes you tried to follow him.

Having had the cabin being abandoned it was pretty secluded and overgrown but, there were other cabins across the lake. Yours was the closest to the camp, it was still about 5 miles, but you could hear the screams in the night from teens at the camp. Being a very resourceful person you had set your own security traps and tripwires. You had even put up trail cams where you saw him walking so you could match up the times to murders. Sure enough, It was defiantly him. The killer. The murderer of Camp Crystal Lake. Why were you never afraid of him? Why had you never felt in danger in his presence?

One day you were so tired from doing repairs, you drifted asleep while watching the clouds pass by. When you woke up he was standing there above you with his head tilted, almost making sure you were ok. Your eyes hit his and he stumbled backwards, he caught one of your tripwires. It landed him on his ass for the first time in years, caught off guard and not knowing what to do next.

You two just stared at each other. “Hey, it’s ok. I know who you are,” You spoke to him. He had almost forgotten what soft voices sounded like. All he heard were the screams of his victims. “Jason? You are him” He was shocked. Stunned. “It’s ok” You explained seeing his confusion.

Long before you moved out here you knew about him, heard the stories, read the news articles, spoke to the people of the small surrounding community. “Jason” you spoke again to him, not breaking eye contact. He didn’t know if he should run or just kill you to stop the conflicting feelings. The name you spoke he had not heard in years. It brought back a lot of odd feelings, pain, enjoyment, memories.

As he sat there, you were not going to pry at him. You stood up from the ground dusting yourself off, looking away for a minute before placing your eyes to where he should have been but, he was gone.

For months after that he would stare at you from the bushes, just observing. Sometimes he would stand close enough to touch you, but he didn’t. You never wanted to push him, so you just talk to him from the distance even if he never said a word back. It took a full year before he allowed you to touch him. Almost like a stray beaten dog, time, trust, and space were all needed, and maybe some encouragement by making your naked body visible to him through the windows.

#jason vorhees #jason vorhees x reader #jason vorhees imagine #friday the 13th #horror #horror imagine #slasher #slasher x reader #slashers #slashers x reader #slashers imagine #slasher fanfiction #slasher fandom #my opinion #my writing #my versions #halloween

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schnitzelbutterfingers · 4 years ago

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the forgotten one- chapter 1

A/N: hiya there! chapter 1 is here!! i finally had some time to write chapter 1. it’s... angsty, as many of you all have guessed. we’ll see how abby is holding on and ethan’s reaction to what happened. a couple of things:

in this chapter, dr. sebastian ‘seb’ chacko (abby’s brother) and their mother jazmin chacko will make their debut! sebastian skipped two grades and is now the most famous and wealthiest neurosurgeon in the country. seb is 30 years old and is experienced in neurosurgery for 6 years. he is the only best friend of ethan ramsey.

seb and abby are both half-indians and half-mexicans. their mother is mexican and their father is indian. even though their father Abraham is spiteful and malicious , they still like being an indian and jazmin took the time to learn hindi (the official language of india) and malayalam (a south indian language and the one i speak). i am NOT a mexican, but i am an indian. there will be terms a couple of indian terms, so at the bottom, i will add a glossary of words, which will be bolded and will have asterisks (*).

and remember, abby is a 22 year-old second year resident and ethan ramsey is 30 years old with 9 years of experience in medicine.

forgive me if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes. lmk what you think! enjoy!

pairing(s): dr. ethan ramsey x mc (dr. abby chacko)

warning(s): angst angst angst I’M SORRY

word count: 2535

catch up here: prologue

_______________________________________________________________

Ethan’s POV

Dr. Abigail Chacko. Abigail Chacko. Abby Chacko. Abby. Rookie.

She is all Ethan could think about while he is driving.

It’s Friday night. Cars are honking. People are laughing. Lights are flickering. The world is spinning. Yet every fiber of his being is thinking about the one woman that managed to flip his world upside-down. The one woman who broke down all his walls. The one woman who challenges him every day and every night. The woman who he can say is his girlfriend... kind of.

Abby came into his life like a wrecking ball, pushing past every limit even he didn’t know. When he went to the Amazon for two months, every part of him wanted to call her, ask her how she is doing, whether she received any PITAs, wanting to let her know that he still cared about her.

Seb was mad, mad, when he found out what Ethan did to her little sister. The Chacko let him know what Abby was feeling then: emotional, depressed, crying, not even smiling. He even said that the little sister he knew and loved changed so much, he couldn’t even recognize her anymore. Hearing that made Ethan’s heart break more and more. He was the reason she was feeling emotional. He was the reason she was depressed. He was the reason she was crying day and night. He was the reason she wasn’t smiling.

But Seb was understanding. He knew about his trust issues. He knew about his family life. He knew about his childhood. And he knew that Ethan thought going to the Amazon, staying 3228 miles away from her, not calling her, was for her own benefit. Seb told him that he forgave him, because he knows that Ethan cares.

Even after coming back to the Amazon, he still had feelings for her. She occupied his mind every second of the day. What was thought to be effortless and trouble-free was challenging and strenuous. After a while, he surrendered and let himself accept her. From the dinner with the governor and the trip to the art gallery to the kiss outside of his apartment and the Mass Kenmore heist, he quit bearing his bottled up feelings for her.

The Senator assassination attempt was the last straw. Seeing Abby, his Abby, so frail and feeble, her skin so pale, still delivered him those haunting memories from nightmares he would see. Every time he sees Abby, even after that incident, he never wanted to let her go, afraid that something terribly wrong would happen to her.

He then realized he was the idiotic one, pushing he away a lot. He told her about his feelings for her, and Abby was more than enthusiastic to let him in. They did it in the car and in the ski resort, and he was never more joyful and ecstatic than before. Their relationship is getting more determined than ever.

He desperately wanted to give her a ride, but couldn’t because her shift hadn’t ended yet. And something still bothers him that it was a terrible idea, but he decided to let those thoughts pass, afraid of being negative.

But love? Do I love Abigail? Ethan thinks to himself. The truth is... he doesn’t know. He never knew love was possible until he met her, the whirlwind. It may take him a little more time to answer that question.

Instantly, he hears his phone ringing, disturbing him from his musing. It’s Naveen, his mentor and old friend.

The attending answers the call. “Hello? Naveen? Is everything alright?”

In return, he hears an audible sigh. “No, son, nothing is alright. And it might stay that way for a while.”

Ethan starts becoming worrisome. Did anything happen to Naveen. Did he get an update on the hospital? Is this the end of Edenbrook? “Naveen? Are you talking about the hospital?” Ethan asks carefully.

“Where are you now?”

“I’m driving home. Why?”

“... You might want to park the car somewhere if I need to tell you this.”

“...Why?

“Just listen to your mentor, son. Park your car.”

Ethan does as he is advised, wondering where this is going. “Naveen, you’re killing me. What is happening?”

Naveen paused for a long time. “When I tell you this, promise me you will not overrea-”

“Just spit it out, old man.”

Naveen sighs again, this time penetrated with grief and concern. “...It’s.. it’s Abby. She was stabbed-”

And that’s when Ethan cut the call, his mind racing, his heart thumping, driving recklessly back to the hospital.

________________________________________________________________

Seb’s POV

Chicago. Chi-town. Attractive city. The buildings. The lights. The horizon.

Him and Ethan were lucky to get huge penthouses overlooking their respective cities’ horizon. While Ethan doesn’t genuinely appreciate the view of Boston from his penthouse, the view of Chicago nonetheless manages to take his breath away.

Today was an exceptional day for Seb. He performed a successful decompressive craniectomy to a carpenter who was in a massive car crash. Seeing their family happy after he told them about the successful surgery made his heart leap. A craniectomy cost a lot, so he made sure the carpenter’s family didn’t pay at all.

That is Seb’s goal. To help everyone, even those who can’t afford treatment. That is Ethan’s goal. That is Abby’s goal. That is their goal. He’s fortunate to have Ethan as his best friend and Abby as his sister. He treasures them both.

Seb and Abby had a mierable childhood, living in Aurora, Illinois, but a different one from Ethan. The siblings both got abused by their father every single day, Abby being assaulted the most. The whips from the belt. The slaps from his hands. Being tied up and getting tortured. They still brought nightmares to Seb. Abraham is a very wealthy and elite lawyer, “fighting for justice.” But whenever poor people trying to get justice and freedom come to his door, he knocks them out, only letting rich people enter. The comic part is that Seb, Abby, and Jazmin didn’t receive a single penny.

Jazmin would get injured a lot while trying to save them, but failed when his people seized her away, locking her up. Every morning Seb wakes Abby up for school, he would see bruises, scars, dried-up blood, and seeing them made Seb’s eye burn with tears. Since then, he promised himself he would free him, Abby, and thier mother, from that prison. Together they moved to Chicago, Illinois, but still receive threats from Abraham and his gang, saying they will come find them.

Two weeks before was a nightmare for both Ethan and Seb. Their sister, Abby, was stuck in the Senator’s room, with gas they didn’t even know of. Seb and their mother, Jazmin, hastily packed their bags and booked their next flight to Boston, with Jazmin crying all the way, wondering if they’ll ever see their daughter again. Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore together found a cure, and he always wondered if, after that, Ethan Ramsey and Tobias Carrick ever reestablished their friendship.

Abby told them they didn’t need to be here and that she will be fine, but they still stayed there a week. Eventually, she kicked them both out, but not without a lovely smile, saying she will see them later when she’ll come to Chicago.

Seb was filled with joy and literally screamed at the phone when he found out that Ethan and Abby are in a relationship. He was kind of melancholy that they kept it secret, but was still filled with content that Ethan finally, finally, gave up the fight. When Jazmin found out, she made gulab jamun* with him to celebrate. They were both cheerful Abby had finally found someone. Ultimately, Jazmin told Seb that he needs to find a woman, too, which he knew was going to happen.

Seb is staring out the window, thinking about how they all got into the positions they are now. The lights are flickering in his eyes, but he pays no attention to them, but to the sun setting on the horizon, like the glow of a burning fire. He is paying attention to the deep orange and the small tinge of purple streaked across the sky when he hears a sudden crash in the kitchen. When he looks behind, he sees a woman with wrinkles, flour all over her clothes.

Oh, Mother, Seb thinks with a grin. He tried not to laugh, but lost with a small chuckle.

“Oh, stop making fun of your Amma*! Has Abby called you yet? She usually calls early.” Jazmin replies, worried all of a sudden.

Seb sighs, shaking his head. “No not yet. Probably stuck on some kinda case. What are you trying to make today?”

“Classic Tres Leches Cake* My family special! Wanna help me?” Her eyes light up.

“Sure. You have the three milks, right?”

“Yep! Follow me!” And with that, she prods off to the kitchen.

Seb laughs again, following her, until he hears his phone ringing. He walks over to the couch where the phone is and checks the caller ID. It’s Ethan Ramsey.

“Amma, hold on for one sec. It’s Ethan. Probably because I forgot calling him today.”

“Sure, Mone*! Take your time!”

Seb picks up the call. “Hey, Ethan! Sorry I didn’t get to call you. I performed a successful-”

“Seb.”

He hears the voice of a woman. A sound that he can recognize really well. “Harper? What are you doing with Ethan’s phone?”

Harper’s voice is tense. "He didn’t want to call you. He didn’t know how to call you.”

What? What is she saying? Did I do something wrong? “Harper, what are you talking about?”

Harper heaves a sigh. “It’s Abby. She got stabbed by one of the patients here at Edenbrook.”

Time stands still as he processes her words. Suddenly the sunset, the view from his penthouse, didn’t matter anymore. My sister. Stabbed. By some jerk. She barely survived maitotoxin and now this. Tears burn in his eyes, but he forced to blink them away. Was that why she hadn’t called today?

“...How is she now?”

“She’s now in an emergency surgery. The stab wound affected her liver, and they’re trying to fix-” At that point Seb heard too much. He cuts the call.

When he turned around, he saw Jazmin with anxious eyes. “Is everything alright?”

Seb looks at his mother in the eye, tears obscuring his vision. “Amma...”

He spills everything out.

_______________________________________________________________

Ethan’s POV

Blood rushing. Heart hammering. Eyes reddening. Fear surrounding.

The two emotions he can feel. Fear. Anger.

He wants, no, needs, to know who the hell stabbed his Rookie.

*Hours ago*

He walks into the hospital, each step with a thunderous clap, but at any moment, his legs could give away. Every one is looking at him with concern. He breezed through the hallways, eventually finding Naveen sitting on one of the waiting chairs. Naveen sights him and abruptly gets up.

“Ethan! I was trying to call you aga-”

“How is she?”

“Dr. Chacko was stabbed in the side, which affected her liver. They are performing an emergency surgery on her right now. Dr. Tanaka said to me that she will pull through.”

Ethan let go his sigh of relief, suddenly realizing that he was holding it for too long. He slumped down onto one of the waiting chairs, Naveen sitting next to him. “Are you alright, son?”

“Who hurt her? Who hurt Abby?”

Naveen exhales. “That’s what we don’t know. They said it’s a woman with grey hair, but she escaped from the hospital after stabbing Abigail. The security guards are checking the CCTV to figure out who it might be. And as for why, we don’t know. According to the patients in the ER, all Dr. Chacko did was ask the perpetrator why she was crying and the woman stabbed her. But don’t worry, my boy, they’ll figure it out.”

Rage fills through his blood as he hears Naveen’s words. She got stabbed. All because she was trying to assist a patient? If that ‘patient’ ever comes into his sight, he will break him or her. Break them. That’s all he wants to do.

But he knows he can’t. He merely wants Abby to be alright. The surgery.

At that moment, Harper enters the waiting room.

“Ethan? I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to call her brother and mother.”

Goodness. He forgot about that. His one and only best friend. How is he supposed to tell him that? Most of all, her mother. She was sobbing so hard when she found out that Abby was exposed to a deadly toxin. If he tells them that Abby was stabbed, how are they supposed to handle the news?

“Harper? Can you do me a favor and call them for me?” Ethan decides. “I don’t think I have the strength in me to call them.”

“Sure, Ethan. Whatever you need.” Harper says sympathetically.

Ethan hands her his phone and tells her his passcode. All the while Ethan wants to break down and mourn. He wants to punch the wall repeatedly until his knuckles bleed.

“Ethan?” he is knocked to the present by Naveen. Ethan abruptly stands up.

“Naveen, any word on Abby?” he asks worriedly.

Naveen flashes him a brilliant beam. “The surgery was successful. She’s sleeping now.” He pauses for a moment. “Also, Seb and his mother will be arriving in a few hours.”

“That’s great.” Suddenly, he remembers. “... Did you get any word on the perpetrator?”

The chief’s smile falls into a frown. “Ah, I was... hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”

Ethan eyes his mentor and friend suspiciously.”...Why?”

Naveen takes a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to hear this, Ethan? Because I don’t think you’ll be ready.”

“Just tell me who it is already, damn it!” Ethan glares.

“...It’s your mother, Ethan. Louise Ramsey. She was the perpetrator.”

The attending’s heart stops. Time stands still. All the motions pause as Ethan consumes this news in. His bowels turn to ice water. Fear overtakes him. Rage fills his blood. Emotions are piling up.

My mother? My mother?

“Naveen? Please just tell me that you didn’t say what I think you said.”

“I’m sorry, son.”

At this point, Ethan has heard enough and starts punching the wall, blood spilling from his knuckles, the wall breaking. It’s my fault. My god, it’s all my fault! I started believing in this woman again, only to be hurt again. This time, almost taking the woman I lo-

“Ethan, STOP!!” Naveen’s voice cuts his thoughts off.

“I don’t care anymore. I’m gonna break that woman when I see her again.” Ethan’s growl is more than scary. It is haunting.

As Naveen tends to Ethan’s wounds, he can’t help but wonder:

How is he ever going to encounter Abby again?

________________________________________________________________

MYSTERY MAN’s POV

What Ethan doesn’t know is that a man is standing at the corner of the hallway, with a petrifying smile.

Yeah right, Ethan. Go ahead. Try to break Louise Ramsey. I dare you.

The thing is: you can’t. It’s alright to try. But you won’t succeed. Like she told Abby...

The game has just begun.

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A/N (2): any guesses on who the mystery man is??

GLOSSARY

gulab jamun: an indian sweet which is sugary and sweet AND IS SO GOOD INDIANS CAN YOU RELATE

amma: an indian word which means ‘mother’ (i’ve only heard south indians (like me) using this word, but maybe north indians use this word??

classic tres leches cake: (had to do some research) a mexican cake made with three types of milk: evaporated milk, condensed milk, and heavy cream.

mone: means ‘son’ in south india.

tags: @missmiimiie @aylamwrites @starrystarrytrouble @udishaman @caseyvalentineramsey @queencarb @choicesstan1 @newcolonies @arcticrivers @angela8756 @takemyopenheart @rookie-ramsey @ohchoices @ohvamsey @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @drariellevalentine @openheartfanfics

#pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart choices #pixelberry #pixelberry open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc

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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years ago

Text

five valentine’s day that went wrong and one that (almost) didn’t

@queercreators event 02: romance — [ five valentine’s day that went wrong and one the (almost) didn’t ] [ “Five Things” Fic ] “

dedicated to my dear Reneweys [ @nodrianbcyes @honey-hippie-harper @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @bluenoctuary-art @everyone-has-a-nightmare ] ♡

Summary: They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.Boy, he would like to see someone try.

AO3

Well, hello there!!! It’s been a while since the last time I posted something x’d I know I always say the same thing but it’s true skjdfhkjdfs I started this fic during the first week of febreary when I had this shot of adrenaline and started to do a lot of creative stuff, and originally I wanted to post this during Valentine’s Day, but... the shot of adrenaline passed x’d and let me to deal with this alone.

As you can see for the description, this a “Five Thing” fic. At first I wanted to post each chapter seperately, but idk, it seem a little bit... weird x’d so, here in Tumblr, the six chapters are all in one post. If you don’t like the format, but want to read the fic, you can find it on AO3! Don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you liked it:’)

Now... I’m not used to write happy sttuf in general x’d AND I’M LESS USED TO WRITE HAPPY STUFF ABOUT HUGH AND SIMON BECAUSE SKJDFHKJDSF the angst, dudes:))) but I think I did. Like... I actually wrote a fluffy fic:’) I’m so proud of myself dkjfhkfdshjk

Tag list: @the-lady-with-the-pen @chiyuki-hiro @all-weather-is-bad @styeenza

First try

Year 2

It was the second Valentine's Day after the beginning of the Age of Anarchy, and the capacity that the human being had to adapt themselves to the most terrible of conditions never ceased to amaze him. The economy had collapsed, the government had fallen, his school was practically one of the last ones still in open, and there was a “fucking junkie” ruling the city...

But the world celebrated Valentine's Day anyway.

Or at least in his class did.

The teacher had brought a bunch of cardboard boxes, that looked like she had fought with some tramps to get them (which she probably did, they were too many boxes for one person to generate) (unless she was a crazy person who collected boxes). She gave one to each one of her students, took out the last bottles of paint, pieces of colored cardboard, and rusty scissors, and then told them that today they were going to learn how to make a mailbox.

At first, Hugh had no idea what turning a box into a mailbox had to do with the curriculum the school was supposed to follow. It's not like people sent a lot of letters anyway. But when the girls got excited, he remembered that February 14 was something like an important date. And then, he remembered an activity that they did during his first year, when everyone decorated a box for their classmates to put letters and sweets in it.

First year… And now he was in his third year.

Time flies by.

After telling them which parts to cut into (Hugh had to share his scissors with other three classmates because there weren't enough for everyone), she invited them to pick the decorations they wanted to put on their mailboxes. The girls pounced on the pink, red, and even white paint, while most of the boys laughed, saying it was a stupid activity and they didn't want to do it. Hugh felt the urge to agree, but he didn't

He had already tried to make them like him. It hadn't worked for him.

So he grabbed a bottle of navy blue paint, some cartoon bear stickers, some notebook paper, and a bitten pencil. That would be enough to make his mailbox and his cards.

After a while, he started to have a good time. Crafts had never been his strong suit, but he was proud of how it ended up looking. One couldn’t tell his mailbox used to be a cereal box because the paint he used was so dark, that it only needed two coats of it and it dried much faster than Abernathy’s, who had practically finished the pink paint trying to hide the face of that missing child in the milk carton box the teacher gave to her. Hugh realized that she was holding her tears back, and as the good classmate that he was, he told her not to worry, that the missing child could be decoration if she painted him a mustache or something, and it would look very funny. Abernathy, far from finding it funny, acted super offended, assuring she had never met a child as rude and insensitive as Hugh Everhart, and she ran out of the classroom, hiding her face in her hands and screaming like a baby.

Unfortunately, the rest of his class agreed with her, and when it came time to deliver the cards, Hugh did not receive a single one. Although he doubted it had anything to do with that missing boy thing.

They wouldn't have given him anything anyway.

He wasn't sure if they knew he was a prodigy. Maybe they had noticed that it wasn't normal that Hugh had practically broken a chair in two when he placed his backpack on it to get something out, or that he had left the PE teacher unconscious when he accidentally threw a ball at his face while they were playing soccer. The teachers, if they noticed, didn't say anything. After all, that school was supposed to be only for normal kids.

Not prodigies.

But children could be very insightful. Most likely, they did notice and therefore did not want to be associate with him.

Or maybe—

Maybe they just didn't want to hang out with Hugh, because of… that.

Because he was Hugh.

He decided to wait for everyone else to leave before starting to cry (or before breaking another chair, whichever came first). Or at least that was what he was about to do when he heard that someone had come up with the same idea as him and started crying first.

Simon Westwood had never been too talkative. Even before his older sister and mother died, he liked to sit at the last table, not speaking to anyone, and some older kids were constantly picking on him, without any teacher trying to do anything to stop them.

Not that Hugh was paying much attention to him or something.

The teacher practically ran to see what was going on with Simon Westwood, asking him what happened and why hadn’t he finished decorating his mailbox. Simon Westwood tried to explain it to her, but he was mumbling his words so neither the teacher nor Hugh could understand what he was saying.

Hugh didn’t get mad with him though. His mom had died. His sister died too, a couple of weeks later. He wouldn’t be in the mood for doing cheesy crafts if the same had happened to him. But the teacher wasn’t as benevolent as him, and started to say things like she was trying really hard to bring joy to her students, and that she was sure that if he tried a little bit harder, he would be able to enjoy Valentine’s Day, like the rest of them.

“Let’s see what nice things your classmates have said about you,” she exclaimed. But that only made Simon Westwood start crying again.

No one had given him a card.

Like… no one.

And Hugh was listening to all of this conversation, just sitting there, trying to stay as stiff as he could so they wouldn’t notice he was there (as if he weren’t literally right in front of them). Seeing Simon cried like that made him think that maybe he was just acting though when the other kids laugh at him because of his looks, his ratty old clothes (older and rattier than theirs), or just—

His mind exploded.

He suddenly understood why the other kids didn't like Simon Westwood. It was before he was him.

Just like how they didn’t like Hugh Everhart because he was Hugh Everhart.

When the teacher went out of the classroom with Simon, saying something about calling his dad (although he knew they wouldn’t be able to do that, since no one had a functioning phone those days), he took one of the cards he did for his classmates, cards that he never gave to them, and put one inside Simon Westwood’s mailbox/cereal box. He had left his backpack and his things there. When he came back to take them home, he would see the card too.

A voice in his head told him to get out of there before he came back, but another one told him to stay. Maybe Simon Westwood and he could be friends. Maybe he would understand what it felt like to be hated just for the way you were born. Maybe he was a prodigy too.

Or maybe he wasn’t.

He couldn’t take that chance.

So Hugh went home, but promised Simon Westwood (and himself) he would keep an eye on him.

After all, friends were there to have each other’s back.

Because they were friends, even if Simon didn't know it yet.

Second try

Year 9

They were friends.

He had never seen Hugh before meeting him on that alley where Simon got his powers. Like— he had seen him because he was in the same class as him, but he hadn't really seen him. During his childhood years, Simon was more focused on other things. Like being a little depressed and anxious ball with skinny legs and skinny arms, for example.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t depressed or anxious now. Nor it was he had gotten super muscular all of the sudden, like Hugh (he had always been bigger than the other kids, but he practically turned twelve and already looked like a teenager, except for the voice and the face).

But at that moment, he wasn’t depressed or anxious. He felt weirdly at peace.

He and Hugh were walking down the street, thinking about which store were they going to rob that day to get dinner for them and their families, when Simon noticed a couple holding hands in front of an abandoned café. She had dark hair and he had blue eyes, which looked at his girlfriend as if she was the Virgin Mary or something. Then, she kissed him and gave him a small blue flower and a heart-shaped card. The guy looked so moved by the gesture that he kissed her on the lips again, with so much more passion than before.

Simon looked away before they realized he was looking at them, not only because he didn’t want to come off as creepy, but also because he knew how awkward he would feel if they started to make out or something.

“Love is in the air,” Hugh sang.

Simon chuckled. “You noticed them too?”

“I noticed them when she gave him the flower,” he told him. “I had never seen a girl giving flowers to a guy before.”

“Times have changed, I guess. That’s why they don’t feel uncomfortable giving such public displays of affection. Kids in our day weren’t like that.”

“I know, right?” said Hugh continuing with the joke. “They are so perverted. There are children present, for God’s sake.”

Simon chuckled again and Hugh stopped to tie his shoe. While he was there, Simon noticed he was throwing glances at them.

“You know, giving them the death stare isn’t gonna prevent them from being in love,” Simon told him.

“I can try,” Hugh joked. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not that. I just—”

He waited for him a couple of seconds before asking, “Just what?”

He finally answered, “Someday we’ll have something like that.”

Simon frowned. “Huh?”

“You know,” Hugh mumbled. “We’ll have girlfriends and— and all of that.”

“Oh!” Simon exclaimed. “Yeah, someday, yeah.”

But before Simon could keep talking about it (or just develop some opinion on the topic) Hugh shrugged and urged him to keep walking. “I guess. I didn’t even remember today was Valentine’s Day though. They were my reminder—” he turned around and waved at them “—Thank you, exhibitionists, you reminded me what day is it!”

Now, Hugh probably didn’t mean for them to hear him say that. Simon knew him well enough to know Hugh thought he wasn’t being loud, but the thing was… Hugh was always loud. He could be “whispering” and the whole neighborhood would hear him ask Simon if he knew how bars with strippers worked because he did know, and wanted to brag about it. Then, Simon would feel embarrassed, because, in fact, he didn’t know how bars with strippers work.

Simon immediately turned around and realized the girl was looking at them with an expression he couldn’t read. He turned invisible and pushed Hugh inside of an alley, hoping those trashcans hid them well enough in case the guy turned out to be a freaking animal and wanted to kick their flat asses for calling them exhibitionists.

Simon felt the anxiety kicking in, when Hugh started laughing so loud, that said anxiety turn into the need of punching him really hard on the arm.

So he did it. Multiple times.

“Dude, dude, shut the fuck up, dude,” Simon said keeping his voice low (because he could keep his voice down, unlike others), “that guy’s gonna kick our asses, for real. Dudeeee—”

But his voice kinda cracked when he said that “Dudeee—” and that made Hugh laugh even more, so Simon kept punching him, using a vocabulary that would make the most dangerous of gangster blush. And he probably would have kept hitting him, if the anxiety of being discovered hadn't been overshadowed by how weird it made him feel to see his best friend laugh.

When Hugh laughed, his cheeks would turn red and his eyes would water. They could be in the most embarrassing situation ever, one where no one was laughing, and if he found it funny, he was going to do it, because he wasn't going to be able to help it. And it wasn't like Simon would stop him, either. Not at all. He liked it when he laughed.

Even though he ended up making him laugh too. Like at that moment.

Most of the garbage ended up in the drains, the sidewalk, or anywhere else except where it belonged, the trash can. Generally, Hugh always refused when someone hinted at sitting on the floor, precisely for that reason. However, on that occasion, the two were sitting in that stinking alley, throwing pebbles at each other, playing with some bottle caps they found on the ground, and arguing about who would win a bare-handed fight, Wonder Man or Phantom Feline.

They decided it was time to go home when a cat-sized rat appeared out of nowhere, and the two of them came out screaming like idiots, even faster than they would have run if that guy with the girlfriend would have chased them. They ran until they reached Simon's house, all sweaty and tired, their hands on their bent knees and breathing heavily.

Then Hugh laughed again. And his cheeks were flushed again, and his eyes were watery again, and he made Simon laugh again until Mr. Westwood came home from work and told him to go inside, that it was too late to be outside.

Once he was locked in his room, with his younger sister playing in the living room and his father in the kitchen, the image of that guy kissing his girlfriend did not make him feel anything. So, he tried to imagine kissing a lot of girls that he considered a thousand times more attractive, but just when it seemed that the idea was beginning to be something desirable, Hugh came back, with his laugh, his screams, and his eyes, like one of those freaking trains that he dreamed of having the opportunity to stop one day and that never missed a single chance to tell Simon all about it.

The truth was that Simon did believe that Hugh might be able to stop a train with his bare hands, but he doubted he would be able to stop the train of thought that Simon hopped on whenever he thought of him. And he was so ashamed to know that not even the strongest prodigy on the planet was capable of doing that, that he decided to take those memories from the collar of the old blue hoodie that each one of them wore and bury them alive in the backyard of his memory.

Forever and ever.

Thrid try

Year 12

Two months ago, after their first date, Simon told Hugh he would never plan another important date, forever and ever. But now, Simon had let him plan their first Valentine's Day together without putting any objections, proving that he trusted him. And he was happy for him; Simon had always had problems when it came to trusting other people. It was nice to see the other grow to become a better person.

And it was even nicer when you were no longer only friends, but a couple.

So yeah, he wanted to make Valentine's Day special. It was kind of a big deal.

Georgia and Tamaya brainstormed with him places he could take Simon to. They all agreed that it had to be a place safe enough and that it wouldn't put them in a situation where they had to reveal their powers, and by consequence, their secret identities. But then, everything started going downhill, especially because Georgia had some very odd ideas (like something about flowers, a choreographed dance, and poetry) and Tamaya was as romantic as a rock (“Just don't end up nearly killing yourself in front of him, that should be enough.”)

It was February 13th, and Hugh was on his cot, a bit angry at Georgia and Tamaya, not only because they couldn't help him on such an important mission as they promised, but also because they blamed him for their failure, telling him that he "had no imagination" and that he "thought with his dick", just because he thought all their ideas were horrible.

Maybe he should have phrased that better...

Simon and Evander slept on the bunk bed Simon used to share with his younger sister. Simon was taking a shower, so he was all alone with Evander and Kasumi, who sometimes went there to visit her best friend, even if Tamaya told her not to do it because it smelled horrible in there and she would bring the odor to the girl’s bedroom (Hugh thought the room didn't smell bad at all, and if it did, it was because Evander acted like he was living in the street yesterday and had no sense of personal hygiene). But Kasumi didn’t seem to mind, and she spent most of her afternoons cuddling with Evander on the top bunk, while she read an old book and Evander read one of Simon’s comics (because Hugh would join the Anarchists before letting Evander touch his comics).

They started whispering at each other about who knows what, and even though he kind of wanted to know what they were talking about, he was just too tired, so he decided to put a pillow on his face and try to fall asleep. But then, he heard, quite clearly, that they said his name.

And he couldn’t let slip that.

He pulled the pillow off his face, and said, “What are you saying about me?”

They both peered over the edge of the bunk. “We were talking about how you're not good at romance,” Evander replied.

The audacity of that b— boy.

“You are eleven years old," he told him. “What are you going to know about romance?”

“No more than you,” Kasumi acknowledged, very solemnly.

Hugh made his “See?” face and he looked away.

Then, Evander asked, “Why don’t you take him to Cosmopolis Park?”

Oh, stars. He couldn’t be serious.

Cosmopolis Park.

A freaking theme park.

Evander was eleven, all right. His idea of a date was probably something out of a princess movie he and Kasumi watched from time to time (sometimes Tamaya joined them too and she always acted like she was just watching it to make fun of it, even though everyone in the house knew she had a weird soft spot for cheesy princess movies). But Hugh was technically an adult now. He should know better, and knowing better was not taking your boyfriend to a theme park for Valentine’s Day. That wasn’t very romantic.

“What a stupid idea.”

Kasumi got red all of the sudden. For the look at Evander’s face, Hugh knew he had fucked up even before she said, “It was my idea…”

“Oh— no, Zoomie, I… what I meant was that—”

“Don’t fix it, bro,” Evander interrupted him. “You’re gonna make me want to punch you more.”

He wasn’t afraid of Evander punching him because he couldn’t compare a kid’s strength to his, but he obeyed him and mumbled a small, “Sorry.”

The “sorry” was for Kasumi though, not for Evander. If Kasumi hadn’t been there, he probably would have told Evander something like “Oh, yeah? You’re gonna punch me, little punk? Come on, punch me, don’t be a pussy” (and then Georgia would have stormed into the room, telling him not to use the word “pussy”, and they would have pointed at each other saying “He started it!”)

After giving him a goodnight kiss, Kasumi got off Evander’s bed, with the book under her arm. Before leaving the room, she knelt beside Hugh to kiss him goodnight, as to show his comment didn’t cause her to feel any kind of resentment towards him.

Because of course it didn’t. Kasumi was like that.

“I was just saying— Valentine’s Day is also a day to be with friends,” she whispered. “And you and Simon are not only boyfriends but also... you know, friends. I bet that wherever you take him, it'd be magical for both of you. Because you find magic in each other's company, even before you knew you were in love. So... why not?”

She turned off the lights on her way out.

He never thought Kasumi’s tendency to romanticize everything was odd or weird. It was something that he expected from a teenage girl, especially one who has such a vivid imagination. But he also never expected that imagination would help him in some way. And he never expected for her to say the exact words he wanted to hear, even before he knew he wanted to hear them.

She was so wise.

Cosmopolis Park didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore when Simon entered just after Kasumi, wearing his pajamas, and asked him with a teasing voice, “So… where are you gonna take me tomorrow?”

Hugh didn’t know if Evander was already asleep, so he just smiled at him and told him it was a surprise. Simon rolled his eyes and gave him a soft kiss on the nose before getting into his own bed.

It was his way of telling him he trusted him. And relationships were supposed to be built upon trust. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.

As far as he knew, Simon hadn't been to Cosmopolis Park in years, probably before the Age of Anarchy began. It was no secret that the park was currently full of gangs and drug addicts but it was still a relatively peaceful place. At least peaceful enough that the park was full of families, groups of friends, and tons of couples.

Although there weren’t any couples...

Well, there weren’t any couples like them.

He wondered if Simon noticed that small detail too, but when he turned to ask him that, he knew it would be better if he just kept his comments to himself. Because he wasn't an expert reading other people's emotions, but Simon...

Simon looked so happy at the moment.

The two walked side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other's, but their hands tucked deep into their pockets. Hugh was trying to keep his eyes fixed forward to avoid bumping into anyone, but the small chuckles Simon let out every time he saw something that surprised him, made said task impossible. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to avoid the embarrassment that would cause him to bother someone by bumping into them; he wanted to look at him.

He wanted to look at him trying to hide his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand, as if he wanted to suppress some kind of dark feeling, without realizing that his joy was so full of light that it was practically impossible. He wanted to continue to see how his dark eyes, with very long lashes and deep bags under the eyes, perfectly captured the lights of the Ferris wheel and the food trucks. He wanted to see the tiny smile he had the entire time they were at the park because even if Simon didn't smile like that very often, when he did, Hugh felt as if he was witnessing the most wonderful of miracles.

Hugh took his hands out of his pocket, and when he turned his attention back to Simon, he was looking at him too. They stopped in their tracks, not caring that people passed around them, sometimes unintentionally pushing them a bit or stepping on their shoelaces.

Hugh took a step forward and Simon did too.

Then Simon pulled a hand out of his grey jacket's pocket, making him wonder if he was dreaming or if it was really going to happen.

Hugh held his breath and felt the blood rush to his face, along with the overwhelming feeling that everyone around him was staring at them, with the newly acquired gift of recognizing those two faces that always hid behind pair of colorful masks and now were gazing at each other with true devotion. He desperately wanted to know what was going through their heads, he wanted to know if they still considered them worthy of their admiration and respect, and he wanted to know if he had been right when he assured Simon that, someday, the two of them would hold each other in public without thinking it twice.

But then, just as Simon's fingers brushed his cheek, his attention was completely diverted to someone behind Hugh.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked awkwardly.

Hugh turned to see who his boyfriend was talking to. He was a slightly older man, juggling three balls and standing on the table of his own stand. He was smiling at Simon and he had a mustache that quite frankly made him look like a ridiculous comic villain.

“Yes, you!” and he threw a ball at Simon.

Simon covered his face with his hands, but Hugh caught the ball before it hit him.

Who did this guys think he was?

The guy, far from mocking Simon's reaction, seemed intrigued. “Do you want to win a prize, big guy?” he asked Hugh.

Hugh was ready to say no to him in the kindest way he could, when the guy pulled out a laundry basket, like the one Georgia put on his head every Sunday, saying "Laundry time!" in a voice so high that made birds explode.

“You just have to throw that ball you have in your hand—” he raised the basket “—here. And you can win a prize.”

He finally gave him a chance to reply. “No, thank you, we’re fine.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets again and told Simon to keep going. But the guy did not give up.

“I see,” he crooned from afar. “Your dad didn't play ball with you and that's why you don't think you're capable of throwing it correctly. It’s fine.”

Simon put his hand to his mouth as if thinking "Oh, stars, he did not."

And Hugh looked at him as if thinking "Oh, but he did."

If that guy knew who he was talking to, he would probably think it twice before making comments to strangers mocking their lack of a father figure.

So he turned abruptly and threw the ball into the basket.

If Hugh had been a little calmer, he probably would have been able to remember that, before leaving the house, Tamaya had told him that theme parks were full of games that had the sole purpose of scamming people and that one of them was that game in particular. The balls bounced so much that even if they made contact with the bottom of the basket they would jump back to whoever threw it, making them technically lose.

He would also have listened to himself, to Hugh, who told him that it would be best to turn around and get on with their lives, and not to Captain Chromium, who was determined to win that freaking game because he won every single game the world put in his way.

After three balls, the guy turned to Simon, extended his hand at him, and told him, “It's fifteen dollars.”

That was enough to make him lose his mind. Hugh told him that it was not worth arguing with him, but Captain Chromium did not tolerate that people tried to take advantage of him, and he spent about ten minutes screaming with the mustachioed man, until Simon panicked (or lost his mind), grabbed one of the balls and threw it right in the man’s eye.

Then, he did take Hugh by the hand.

But just to be sure they both got out of there before someone tried to stop them.

They ended the evening at a hamburger stand several blocks away from Cosmopolis Park (because obviously, they weren't going to stay there after the show they had put on). They did not have enough money to buy two sodas, but they bought a strawberry juice carton to share and sat on the sidewalk to eat their hamburgers of doubtful provenance, ranting against the man, against the park, and, especially, against those damn balls.

“I can't believe there are people like him breathing the same oxygen I breathe,” Simon commented, before taking a bite out of his burger ravenously. “He had no right to make that joke.”

But Hugh was so distracted by how attractive Simon looked when he bit his hamburger like that all he could say was:

“If my dad knew I couldn't win that stupid game, he would abandon me again.”

Simon frowned a little bit, repeating the sentence in his head until he finally understood the joke, and laughed so hard he began to choke with his food. Hugh started to panic and told Simon he would give him five back blows like he read he should do when someone started to choke. That was enough for Simon to spit his food on a napkin. Both were so grossed out by it, that they started laughing again. Simon hid his face on Hugh's shoulder, practically using his fit of laughter as an excuse to snuggle against him, and Hugh used his own angriness as an excuse to stay right there, telling the entire world to go to hell, and willing to keep doing it forever, just as long as the conversation didn't end and they had to go home.

Georgia and Tamaya would kill them. It was already late at night.

Fourth try

Year 17

It was already late night when they arrived at the motel.

Simon had stayed invisible the entire time they were at the reception like he always did when they had one of those more… private nights out. Hugh was the one who was in charge of booking the room because Simon got too anxious anyway at the mere idea of having to interact with one of the receptionists.

It was one thing for his entire family (or the Council, as they had been calling themselves lately, as a joke) to know that tonight he was going to have sex. Strangers knowing it was a completely different thing.

He still wasn't quite sure which one was more embarrassing, but yeah. It was different.

He only became visible again when Hugh closed the door behind him.

Simon looked at the huge sports bag that Hugh carried with him. “What you got there?”

“Nothing important,” he assured with a shrug. He was smiling like he was a kid getting a bunch of presents at Christmas, and Simon was extremely happy too, so, without asking any more questions, he kissed him on the lips and went to the bathroom to give both of them time to get ready.

Not that they hadn't done that before. They didn't like having such intimate moments in the house. And even if they had wanted to, it was practically impossible to have even a minute of privacy there. The last time he had slept in a room by himself had probably been… never. And the number of occasions someone had opened the bathroom door while he was there were more than he could count. The door lock had been broken for a few weeks but nobody knew how to solve the problem because they had no idea how doors worked. Georgia had tried to implement a serious policy of knocking before entering any room with the door closed, but the only one who paid attention to her was Adrian because the rest of them were simply too used to walk around the house as if they were in their own houses. (That they were their house, but it was more Simon's house than theirs.)

In fact, it was the first time in forever that he was in a bathroom and he didn't have to put his hand on the door, to stop whoever tried to open the door before they ended up seeing him in the most vulnerable of positions, so Simon took off his T-shirt, his jeans, and sat on the toilet, wearing his underwear and his jacket, trying to enjoy his first moment of privacy in a long time.

At least until his legs started to feel cold and Hugh told him that he could go out now.

When he came out of the room, Hugh, who was lying on the bed, widened his eyes. Simon was already ready to hear a flattering comment, but instead, he frowned and asked, “Are you going to leave your socks on?”

Simon looked at his feet automatically. He had indeed left his socks on.

He didn't see anything wrong with it.

“The carpet is filthy,” he replied. “I don't want to get fungus or something like that.”

Hugh found no fault with his logic. “Okay, but take them off when you get on the bed,” he asked.

Then Simon realized that Hugh, not only never stopped doing that ridiculous pose that pretended to be sexy throughout the entire conversation, but he also had thrown out the (probably dirty) bedsheets from the motel bed and put instead one of the blankets they took out of the closet to cover themselves during winter.

So that's what he carried in his sports backpack.

Hugh seemed to realize that Simon was looking at the blanket and not at him, because he immediately said, “Oh, I hate motel bedsheets.”

Simon couldn't help but laugh. “You hate them?”

Hugh finally stopped doing that ridiculous pose and sat down. “You just never know who sleep in them before us, Simon,” he replied, “and you never know when was the last time they washed them. Maybe they— ” he pointed to the pile of blankets thrown away “—are covered on the… bodily fluids of twenty other people, and you want me to lie on them? Is that how you want us to make love? Like animals?”

Simon kept laughing, but Hugh wasn’t laughing. “Simon, stop it!” he exclaimed. “A new class of bacteria could be there, ‘cause— oh, I am convinced that those things have a new kind of bacteria no one has discovered yet, and— ”

And he went silent when Simon put his hands on his shoulders, still with a smile on his lips.

“What?”

“Hugh, have I ever told you I think you're really sexy when you out crazy me?” Simon asked, running his fingers through his hair.

Hugh stood still, looking directly into his eyes. “No, I think you haven’t.”

Simon shrugged. “Well— I think you're really, really, sexy when you out crazy me.”

“Well, I think… I think—“

Hugh could no longer continue his sentence. Even though Simon wasn't doing anything to stop him from speaking.

He was literally just standing in front of him, one knee leaning on the mattress and one hand on Hugh's head.

“You think?” he asked him. “That’s new.”

“Simon, wait, I'm trying to seduce you,” Hugh said.

Simon took a step back, pointing to the bathroom door. “I think I’d wait over there.”

“No, wait—” he gently grabbed his wrist before he could move further away “—I’m starting to… Let me think of something.”

Simon chuckled. He put his knee on the mattress again and Hugh grabbed him around his waist, pulling him close to him and resting his head on his chest, while Simon rested his chin on his head. He had just taken a bath when they came out of the house, so Hugh’s hair smelled of him and lemon zest because they have been using dish soap as shampoo the last week.

That was the kind of privacy that they sometimes lacked at home. He was no longer talking about sex. Simon craved to have him like this, so close to him. Both in their underwear, both in a practically unknown place, and both completely vulnerable, but together. Feeling at home, even if technically they weren't.

Because Hugh was his home.

He was sure he saw him that way too.

Simon was so focused on trying to capture that moment in his memory so that he could repeat it over and over again for the rest of his life, that he was totally thrown when Hugh blurted out:

“I think you have a nice dick, dude.”

Simon broke the hug ... “What?”

Hugh’s cheeks turned even redder. “Tell me I didn't say that.”

He put a hand up to try to hide his laughter. “No, I think you did.”

He still couldn’t believe that was Hugh’s best try to seduce him. And apparently, Hugh couldn't believe it either.

“Then— forget about it,” he stammered. “Let's all of us forget about it.”

Simon realized that he tried to grab him by the waist again, but he moved away just in time, pretending to be extremely offended. “So I don't have a nice dick.”

“Let's just stop saying the word dick, please.”

“You started it.”

“I PANICKED, ALL RIGHT?”

“PANICKING IS MY JOB!”

“I’M TAKING YOUR JOB THEN. AND I’M GONNA STEAL YOUR BOYFRIEND TOO IF YOU KEEP LAUGHING!”

Simon didn't try to pretend that he wasn't laughing, because he was more than aware that it was already too obvious at this point.

So he decided it was better to play along.

“No, don't take my boyfriend!” he exclaimed dramatically, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Take me instead.”

Hugh took him by the waist and pulled him close. Simon didn't try to walk away this time. “Deal.”

But when Simon was about to start kissing him, he diverted his attention from Hugh for a split second, making him realize the curtains were wide open. “Oh, shoot, wait— the curtains.”

Luckily he hadn’t taken off his socks yet.

With quick steps, he headed to the window. He put a hand on each curtain and was about to close it completely when the lights of a car approaching from the end of the street caught his attention. It was a yellow sports car that looked more like a ripe banana than a vehicle.

Shit.

It stopped a few feet past the motel they were at. Out of it came a short man, with scars on his face and thin hair, and a tall blonde woman in a yellow dress, very inappropriate for the occasion. Not because it was provocative thought. It’s just that no one would wear such an expensive-looking dress in such a dangerous neighborhood unless they wanted to be robbed.

Or that they had enough status not to be.

Simon turned to see Hugh. “Hey—” Hugh looked up slightly. “—Come here.”

Hugh obeyed, a little bit confused, after putting his socks on (obviously). Simon had closed the curtains just enough for them not to be noticed but also not so much that they couldn’t see what was happening on the street.

Hugh gasped. “Are those—“

Simon swallowed hard. “Cyanide and Queen Bee in person.”

“What are they doing here?”

Simon had as much an idea of what Queen Bee and Cyanide were doing there as Hugh had, but he responded with the first thing that came to his mind anyway.

“Probably celebrating Valentine's Day,” he replied. “What a shitty place to take your girlfriend during Valentine’s Day though.”

At least take her to a motel. Like I did with Hugh.

“Do you think Queen Bee and Cyanide are together?” Hugh asked Simon.

Simon shrugged. “I don't know, but I know Queen Bee has a thing for Ace Anarchy.”

He had the slight hope that Hugh would take the bait and give him a chance to discuss his theories about Queen Bee's fixation with Ace Anarchy (which he always talked about with Tamaya), but Hugh, despite being very nosy, just kept quiet, watching Queen Bee and Cyanide argue outside the car.

How could that woman walk in such big heels?

“Or maybe Cyanide is the one who has a thing for Ace Anarchy,” Hugh blurted out suddenly.

Simon turned to see him. “Wait, really?”

“Don't be so heteronormative, Simon,” he scolded him. “Plus, I've never been in the cathedral, but I bet that when you enter there, it reeks homosexuality.”

“Dude—”

“I just know.”

And they kept watching.

There was something very personal about seeing two people arguing from a distance, like old ladies peering out of their home windows whenever the neighbors had a particularly loud fight. Simon almost considered it romantic.

Then, Queen Bee tried to turn around to turn her back on Cyanide, but something went wrong with her heel and she went face first towards the sidewalk, letting out a scream that could make someone think she was being murdered, and causing Cyanide (and the two of them) to laugh out loud.

How could that woman walk with those heels? Well, apparently, she couldn't.

The tension he felt when Cyanide interrupted his laughter and turned around as if he knew someone was watching them, made him remember that they were not gossiping old ladies peeking out of the window of their house and that those two were not some neighbors having a little fight. No, they were Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, stuffed into a hotel room like they were fugitives from the law or something, and those two little people in the middle of the street were two of the most feared and powerful villains in the world.

There was nothing romantic about that.

So Simon immediately closed the curtains.

But now neither of them was in the mood to have sex anymore, really.

“We should do something.”

“I'm on it.”

Hugh was already crouched slightly by the bedside, pulling his unmistakable superhero suits out of his sports bag.

Simon was so puzzled that he couldn't even stop to enjoy the… image that Hugh was inadvertently giving him by bending down like that.

“Wait, did you actually bring our supersuits to our date?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied without looking up.

Who knows what kind of demon got into Simon at the time, but a not very family-friendly thought crossed his mind, and that thought was the one that made him ask, “Why?”

Hugh, completely unaware of what he was thinking, handed Simon his clothes and dropped the two pairs of boots on the floor as he sat in the bed.

Only the stars knew how he had managed to fit a blanket, their shoes, and their suits in that sports backpack.

“Because I thought something like this was gonna happen,” he explained while putting on his leggings. “You know, crime doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day the same way we do.”

Oh.

The little not very family-friendly thought hadn't been right then.

Simon felt a bit sick admitting that he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Oh. I thought...”

Hugh looked at him, intrigued, and a second later, he understood what Simon was thinking. “Oh, stars, no. I was not thinking about that.”

“All right then.”

Now it was Hugh's turn to watch him change. Simon knew that was what he was doing.

Because he knew his look better than he knew anyone else's.

When he was fully dressed, Simon reached out to reach for his shoes, and Hugh put his own hand over his', to get his attention.

He already had the mask on, but he could see that he had turned red. If Simon had been white too, he probably would be redder than him.

He swallowed. “Unless— unless you're into it?”

Simon swallowed too. But he didn’t plan to answer him right now.

It had been hard enough to put on their suits. They didn’t need to start taking them off.

So he pulled his hand away and started putting on his shoes.

“Hugh, the villains—” he reminded him.

“Right, right.” Hugh brushed off his knees. “The villains. That’s important.”

After making sure the door had the lock on (and that said lock worked), they turned off the lights, Simon turned invisible, and Hugh climbed onto the roof, pushing himself off the window frame as fast as possible so that Queen Bee and Cyanide, who were turning their backs on them, standing in front of the door of an apparently abandoned building as if waiting for someone, did not see him. Afterward, Simon followed him, assuring him that he could climb on his own.

The two remained hiding behind the building's water tank. Well, Hugh was behind the building's water tank, and Simon was in plain sight, invisible, with his hood on and his cape fluttering behind him, making him feel…

He wanted to say that it made him feel heroic, but the truth was that Simon also felt very sexy when he got into this mysterious and threatening mode.

Simon turned his hand visible and pointed at them as if to say "Are we going or what?"

Hugh turned to see them with a frown, analyzing the situation. But when Simon was about to ask him what they were waiting for, Hugh turned to see him, with the same smile he had on his face when he was about to let the world know the coolest plan of all the plans, completely ignorant that in reality, it was the dumbest thing he had ever came up with.

“Wait, I have an idea.”

And in that situation, Simon had to take the role of being the one to tell him that his idea was bullshit and that it wasn't going to work, but he used to listen to his idea before expressing his comments about it. Not only because he didn't like talking without knowing all the facts first, but because may he could go to Tamaya the next day and tell her what had happened in the last episode of Hugh Had an Idea And It Went Wrong.

(They also enjoy episodes of Evander Acted Like An Animal Again and Queen, Realize That Junkie Doesn’t Care About You, Please.)

“Do you remember that song Evander used to sing to us?” he asked him.

Oh, Simon remembered it and cringed every time he thought about it.

But the cringe wasn't enough to stop him from singing the song.

“The Warden and the Captain are sitting in a tree—”

Hugh cringed too. “That one, yes. Stars, I hate it so much—” and he pointed to Queen Bee and Cyanide “—Let's make them hate it too. ”

Simon seriously tried to take his role as the voice of reason in that situation. He let his imagination (or rather, his anxiety) run wild, making him imagine the thousand and one scenarios in which that specific fight could turn out worse than they usually did if Hugh made that comment. Queen Bee would probably call Hugh a "lesbian" (“You have a lesbian haircut, honeybun, accept it”), Cyanide would go crazy trying to find Dread Warden to melt his skin slowly and painfully, everyone would wish death upon everyone, and the only reason the fight would end would be because either Cyanide would finally manage to injure Simon or because Queen Bee’s stilettos would break.

He didn't see how teasing them with an attack worthy of elementary school kids would make the situation worst.

Besides… it was going to be hilarious to see that.

He didn't see why he couldn't co-star in Hugh Had Idea and It Went Wrong.

“I'm in,” he replied, trying not to raise his voice too much. “I'm super in.”

Hugh rose his hand and Simon high-fived him quietly. But Hugh seized the opportunity to take his hand, running his finger across his knuckles. “Okay, but you sing the spelling part, because—”

“You don't know how to spell,” Simon interrupted.

Hugh let go of his hand. “Well, when you said it in that tone, it sounds a little mean.”

Simon rolled his eyes and took his hand again. Then the logical part of his brain (yes, the same one that always insisted on being the voice of reason in situations like that) began to yell at him that he should convince Hugh to let Cyanide and Queen Bee did whatever they wanted, while the two of them did whatever they wanted.

But that the logical part of him had no voice in that situation because the logical part of his brain was not the part that loved Hugh. After all, there was nothing logical in loving the way he made a kind of mini-horn with both hands, took a deep breath, and yelled with all his might:

“CYANIDE AND THE QUEEN BEE SITTING IN A TREE—”

Fifth try

Year 20

K-i-s-s-i-n-g.

That was what he wanted to be doing. He wanted to be kissing Simon. He wanted to be with him, walking in the park and watching life go by in front of them. The birds singing from the trees, the children chasing each other, and the wind ruffling their hair. The day was going to be so perfect that he was going to be able to ignore homeless people getting high on corners or young people dealing drugs (that should be) illegal, focusing all his attention on Simon and how happy he felt that this time, everything he was going well.

He didn't want to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

But apparently, that's what he was doing.

Tamaya was sitting on the floor, covering herself with her wings. Simon had sat on the other end of the three-seater couch, looking out the living room window with a thoughtful expression, worthy of a character in a Shakespearean play or something. Evander was leaning over him and had Kasumi on his lap. She was watching him play (or rather trying to play) a Tetris game that he had on his phone, putting her icy feet on Hugh's arm, probably without realizing it, and Hugh was on the other end of the couch, first starting at Simon, thinking of how handsome he looked when he was thinking, and then at Georgie. She had been smart enough to sit on the reclining sofa, which gave her the space she needed to cuddle with an inconsolable six-year-old Adrian.

“The storm will end soon,” she was telling him. “The storm will end soon.”

But that was not enough to comfort Adrian. His mother had already been telling him for about an hour that “the storm will end soon”, but the storm just ... did not end. And each time they heard a new thunder, Adrian let out a howl and clung to his mother with more force, asking her to please not go away.

Everyone knew that when Adrian asked Georgie not to go away, he was actually asking everyone not to go away. If any of them left the room, he would probably lose his mind.

He felt the urge to tell him that she wasn't going anywhere. That wasn’t very Georgie. Georgie didn't leave people who needed her like that, scared, crying, and begging her to stay. So since Georgie didn't do it, neither did the others.

It is not like they could have gone anywhere though.

Georgie realized that Simon hadn't stopped staring out the window.

“I'm sorry you couldn't do anything special this Valentine’s Day,” she whispered. Simon blinked as if he were waking up from a dream. “What did you have planned for this evening?”

Simon turned to see him, disappointed. Hugh decided to answer for him.

“We were going to have a picnic at the park,” he replied.

Georgie blurted out something that sounded like “Awww”, and Evander scoffed.

“That’s gay.” Hugh put his arm behind Kasumi and smacked Evander on the back of his head. “BRO, YOU LITERALLY MADE LOSE ME.”

Tamaya laughed and Kasumi shook her head. “I want to play too—” she tried to take the cellphone and Evander pressed it closer to his chest “—Vandy.”

Georgie intervened (without letting go of Adrian). “Vandy, give Kasumi the phone. It’s her turn. And then it's mine.”

But Evander didn’t want to.

“But it only has ten percent of battery left,” he exclaimed.

“Perfect, it's more than enough for Tamaya, Kasumi, Simon, Hugh, and I to get a turn too.”

“Hugh punched me! He does not deserves a turn.”

“I didn't punch him,” Hugh said. “I just hit him very slightly.”

“My brain almost felt out of my head.”

“Do you still have a brain?” Tamaya asked. Hugh high-fived her. “I've been thinking about that joke for weeks, dude.”

“Evander Wade, share the phone,” Georgia said. “I'm no longer asking.”

“No! It's my phone.”

Desperate, Tamaya reached out to take Evander's cell phone, and he stood up so fast that Kasumi ended up falling on Tamaya.

“MOTHERFU—”

A thunder. Again.

Adrian started crying. Again.

And they all went silent. Again.

Hugh took advantage of the fact that Evander got out of the coach to move closer to Simon. Evander didn't say anything to him because he was too busy handing the cell phone to Tamaya, who then gave it to Kasumi. Kasumi refused to sit down with Evander again and stayed on the floor with Tamaya (although resting her head on his knees, as if they were a pillow).

Simon rested his head on Hugh's shoulder.

“Next year will be better,” he whispered in his ear. Simon didn't answer him; he only put his hand on the window, leaving the trace of his fingers on it. “Are you all right?”

Simon put his hand on Hugh’s waist and pulled him closer to him, closing his eyes for a while. “I'm tired…”

“Rest then.”

After all…

Hugh was tried too.

There had never been a day when they didn't have to face a new threat. It seemed that the Anarchists, instead of getting weaker, were getting stronger. Even with the many new allies the Renegades had, no one seemed to have a second of the day to rest. Adrian got more and more nervous when they went out as days passed by, and it was becoming more difficult to calm down him during his tantrums. Even he, who was a child, could feel the tension in the city.

But precisely because of that, because he was a child, he could not understand the enormous responsibility that the Renegades had on his shoulders and that they could not stay with him, no matter how much they wanted to.

Maybe that was why no one had tried to leave the room. It was their way of telling Adrian that they were still there for him.

He was about to fall asleep when Simon pulled him away. His first instinct was to pull him closer, but as soon as he realized that Simon was just standing up, he let go of him.

Suddenly, he looked happier. Much happier than anyone else in that room.

Everyone noticed that change.

“Are you still too tired to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

Even Hugh didn't understand what he meant.

Evander turned to see Georgie. “Georgie, you told them no hanky-panky in the house.”

“Vandy—” Kasumi intervened.

“Zoomie.”

“Don't say hanky-panky.”

“Yeah, you sound like a grandma,” Tamaya told him slightly punching him on the leg.

Hugh shushed them. “Shhh, guys, let Si talk.”

“No, go on, guys—” Simon told them “—Let us show you.”

And he held out his hand.

Obviously, Hugh accepted it.

He had no idea what Simon was planning to do, but he wasn't too tired not to celebrate Valentine's.

He was never too tired of him.

Adrian immediately reacted to this. “Hey, no, don't go...” he cried, stretching his little arms towards them.

Luckily, Simon looked like he already had that covered.

“We're not going anywhere, Adrian,” Simon assured him. “You are coming with us.”

Adrian and Georgie's eyes widened at the same time.

“Me?” Adrian asked pointing to himself.

“You,” Simon replied, confidently. “But it's a very special mission,” he added in a lower voice, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can't tell anyone.”

Adrian rubbed his eyes and Georgie looked up at the ceiling as if she were making sure a new leak hadn't magically appeared. Tamaya, on the contrary, didn't understand, and she stared at the scene, very intrigued by Simon's plan too. Luckily, Georgie noticed it, and with a frantic movement of her hand, told her to stop staring. Hugh made the same move, but this time, directed at Kasumi and Evander.

When Adrian opened his eyes again, everyone but the two of them was pretending they weren't listening to the conversation.

“What mission is it?” Adrian asked in a thin voice.

“Look, we can't go out to celebrate Valentine's Day,” Simon explained, “but what we can do is bring Valentine's Day here with us.”

Adrian looked puzzled.

“Hey, but you're going to need a superhero name to be able to participate in the mission,” Hugh commented, trying to get Adrian more interested. “Do you have any ideas?”

Simon scratched his beard, thinking. “Hmm, very good question, my dear Captain,” he commented. “Maybe—”

“Oh, I know what superhero name I'll have,” Adrian exclaimed, grabbing Simon by the cheeks. “Hey, your beard feels funny.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks too. “What’s your superhero name, then?”

Adrian whispered it in his ear and Simon's face lit up. “It's a perfect name, Adrian.”

Adrian shushed him. “Shh, don't say my real name! I have to use my superhero name, remember? It's a mission.”

Evander scoffed again and Kasumi shushed him immediately.

“And can he tell me your superhero name?” Hugh asked Adrian.

Adrian stopped to think about it. “Yes, why not?” he finally replied.

Then, Simon stood slightly on tiptoe to reach him and whispered in his ear the most perfect superhero name he had ever heard.

Sketch.

Hugh took Adrian by surprise when he graved him and carried him in his arms, making him gasp in shock and excitement. Even Georgie started to laugh out loud at her son's reaction.

“Ready for the mission, Sketch?” he asked him making his voice lower than it actually was.

Adrian gave a military salute. “I was born ready, Captain!” he exclaimed, moving his feet in the air.

Georgie stood up too. “Where you taking my son, guys?” she asked dramatically.

Hugh placed Adrian on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Adrian told her, “I’ll be fine. I need to accomplish this mission.”

Georgie pretended to start sobbing. “No, but you don't have to, son of mine, you're too young!”

“Listen to your mother, kid,” Tamaya intervened. “Stay with us, stay safe with your family—“ and she passed her wings over Kasumi's shoulders.

“Tamaya has two wings,” Kasumi pointed out. “And they're warm.”

“Really?” Evander asked.

But Tamaya’s face changed immediately. “It's not for you, it's for Adrian.”

“GO WITH THEM, LITTLE SKETCH, GO!” Evander yelled standing up on the sofa. “GO SAVE VALENTINE’S DAY!”

That was enough for Adrian. He kissed his mother on the cheek and told her that he would be back soon. Then the three of them began their journey to the kitchen while the others stayed in the living room.

Simon pulled out a bag of bread from the refrigerator and asked Hugh to pass him the peanut and hazelnut butter jars from the cupboard. Adrian took it upon himself to count the remaining loaves of bread and separate them into pairs, spreading them on the table. Simon encouraged him to count how many pairs there were and Hugh had no problem helping him when he got stuck at number five. Then Simon toasted them on the stove, and he allowed Adrian to pile them up like a tower on a red ceramic plate.

When it was time to make the sandwiches, Simon and Hugh sat at different ends of the table, each holding a butter knife. Simon would spread peanut butter on one of the loaves, Hugh would spread hazelnut on the other, and Adrian would gather them together and wrap them the best he could in a napkin, before putting them in a makeshift basket that Kasumi had made long ago.

“Mommy, no!” yelled Adrian when Georgie dared to enter the kitchen. “It's a secret mission!”

“Don’t worry, don’t mind me,” she told them pretending not to notice what they were doing. “I'm just gonna prepare myself some strawberry milk.”

As soon as Adrian looked away, Georgie winked at Hugh. And Hugh winked back.

“I think we're done with this mission now,” he replied using that ridiculously deep voice again. “You have to break the news to the rest of the team, Sketch.”

Adrian jumped out of his chair and practically ran into the living room, holding the basket with sandwiches in his hand.

The three of them had been so into their mission, they didn't realize that the others had put several blankets on the floor and Tamaya was cursing under her breath for being unable to use a lighter to turn on the candles. Kasumi approached Adrian, with a VHS in each of her hands, asking him which movie he would like to see, and Evander came over too, but to try and tell Adrian to pick the action movie, not the romance movie the girls wanted to see.

Simon seemed like he wanted to join the conversation too, but Hugh thought he had done enough. And he meant it in a good way. So he took him by the hand and they lied down on the couch, not caring that perhaps one of the others wanted to sit on it.

Adrian had already chosen the movie (he chose the period drama over the action movie, thankfully) when Georgie walked into the living room with a stack of plastic cups under her arm and a jug half full of strawberry milk, carrying it as it were a trophy. During her birthday, everyone in the house had raised money to buy her a huge pot of strawberry milk powder, which they made her promise that she would not share.

Some promises could not be kept.

The adults got two sandwiches each, but Adrian had practically all of the strawberry milk. Throughout the movie, Kasumi was sighing and muttering how much she wanted to wear a dress like the one the main character wore in the movie during that elegant dinner. From to time, Tamaya frowned and muttered something about how problematic she found a line or scene. Georgie braided their hair and when she finished, she would undo the braid and start over, laughing out loud at Evander's comments about how horrible the romantic interest looked and that he did not understand how that was the ideal of beauty that women had. Adrian fell asleep in Simon's arms about halfway through, and about that exact time, Hugh began to notice that Simon was starting to have a hard time trying to stay awake.

He looked adorable when he was thinking, but he liked it even more how he looked when he was falling asleep.

He kissed the back of his head. “Are you tired?”

He nodded slightly. “Yes… but never of you.”

Hugh kissed him again. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“What thing?”

Georgie turned around for a second and realized that Adrian had fallen asleep. She stopped braiding Evander’s short hair (for some reason, Evander had let her braid his hair) and sat on the recliner chair, hugging Adrian like a stuffed animal.

She winked at him once more. And Hugh winked back, one more time.

“Nothing— ” he laid himself more comfortably on the couch and allowed Simon to get on top of him, resting his head on his chest. “—Sleep for a while.”

Simon made no further objection. “You too.”

Hugh did not fall asleep. In fact, he stayed awake for the three hours the movie lasted, even though by the time the credits started, Tamaya was snoring and Kasumi and Evander were under her wings, rolled up, and cuddled up to her. Georgie ended up falling asleep on the couch, covered in the same blanket Simon used to cover himself a few hours ago.

When the clock told him it was 7 PM, Hugh knew it was time for them to go patrol. However, the rain had gotten even worse, and Simon...

Simon looked so peaceful.

He hadn't realized how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten, nor that his face hadn't looked as relaxed as it looked right now for weeks, because he frowned most of the time. He hadn't held him that close either or had the opportunity to give him as many kisses as he had been doing in that time. Not because he didn't want to, it was just ... well, they had been busy trying not to die.

How tiring it was to try not to die.

He knew Simon was tired because, again, he was tired too, and he bet that the rest of their family felt the same as them. But Simon was the only one who had overcome his tiredness and his moodiness to just... make them forget their sorrows for a moment.

He was like that.

Hugh gave him one more kiss on the cheek.

Thank you.

If Simon had been awake, he would have asked him "Thanks for what?"

And Hugh would have answered him, "For just being you."

Someday they would get their happy ending. But for the moment, all he wanted was to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

He doubted that happiness would ever end.

Sixth (but not last) try

Two years after the Day of Triumph.

Just over a year ago, Simon had been on the roof of the same building he was currently in. Of course, it looked very different from how it looked now. It didn’t have any windows, no furniture, and, obviously, no electricity. It was the vile shell of what had once been one of the most beautiful skyscrapers in the city. Simon was thinking about that when he realized that he did not have a single memory of having seen that place when it was in its maximum splendor and that the only proof he had of it was the stories of those adults who arrived before him.

That sooner or later, he would become one of those adults. Those who told stories of the past to the generations that came after them.

He thought of Adrian. He thought that there would come a time when he would be curious to know certain things that happened and would ask questions that Simon would not be too sure how to answer. Not precisely because he didn't want to or because he thought he wasn't ready to hear the truth; he just didn’t know those truths at all.

Why did people change for the worst? How did the world use to be when prodigies weren’t divided by heroes or villains?

What happened to Lady Indomitable?

How did the world use to be before she was gone?

Then Simon, with tears in his eyes, looked up at the crescent moon and the six stars lined up in such a way that they seemed to form a smile. He hadn’t seen anyone in his family smile for… a very long time.

Because when Georgia Rawles left, she took with her their capacity to smile.

Yet, at that moment, Simon could feel her. He could feel her when he was crying, asking her to please fly again and to help him get down from that skyscraper. He felt her hugging him, keeping him from falling to his knees and cutting his skin with the shattered glass that was on the floor. She promised him that she would never give up on him and assured him that every time he saw the sky, he would find those six stars forming that smile, which from that moment on, would be hers.

Simon didn't want her to make promises, but… it was Georgie. His Georgie. The Georgie who made pinky promises even though she was about to turn thirty because you were never too old for pinky promises. The Georgie who always protected him and never gave up on him, even though there were times when Simon thought she should.

So since she was his Georgie, Simon accepted the promise. As she turned around and rose again to the sky, he wondered what would happen when the city was so full of light, that the stars (Georgie’s smile) faded away and everyone, including them, forgot about them (about her).

But, after all this time, Simon was looking at the stars, on the roof of that same skyscraper that had now been turned into a fancy restaurant, holding Hugh's hand across the table, and noticing that Georgie was still smiling at him from above.

As it always should be.

“Did you ever expect things to turn out like this when you were little?”

He turned to see Hugh again. “What things?”

But Hugh kept staring at the stars. Simon didn't care. He liked to think that the sparkle in his blue eyes was due to them. “Us.”

Simon shook his head, “No,” he answered when he remembered Hugh couldn’t look at him. “Did you?”

Finally, Hugh saw him again. “I think that when I was little, I didn’t know one could be as happy as I am with you right now.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“I'm serious,” Hugh insisted, taking him just a little tighter by the hand. “I'm so glad we finally made it out.”

Simon leaned forward slightly. “We really did, huh?”

Then, Hugh gently pulled him closer to him, making their foreheads bump and closing his eyes. “And I'm so glad that now, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, to us, and to what we have.”

Simon closed his eyes too. He would have liked to promise Hugh that it would be like that. That this new chapter of their lives, the chapter of getting married, having kids, and rebuilding a city together, was would turn out as well as the last one, when they fought crime, defeated the bad guys, and held hands only when they were not wearing the armors that protected them from the outside world.

But he could not promise that. And anyways, Hugh was not very fond of promises. He said they were very easy to break.

So he grabbed his chin and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before saying, “It's getting late. We should ask for the check.”

Hugh nodded and called a waiter. He noticed that Simon was reaching into his pocket and quickly told him not to do it, that he got it. Simon knew there was nothing he could do to make him change his mind, so he instead just asked if he could get a slice of chocolate cake to go. Adrian would love to have chocolate cake for breakfast.

The waiter returned a few moments later with the bill (and Adrian’s chocolate cake). Simon almost winced when he saw the amount of money they had spent on a meal that hadn’t been that good in the first place (although he did not know if it was because of the lack of ingredients or because gourmet food kind of sucked). However, Hugh didn't seem at all concerned and reached into his pockets to get his wallet.

Suddenly, he leaned his elbows on the table. “Simon.”

Simon leaned his elbows on the table too. “Yes?”

“Have I mentioned you look very handsome tonight?”

He tried to remember. “No,” he replied. “But thank you for noticing. I even took a shower.”

“Wow,” Hugh exclaimed with too much enthusiasm. “Feeling fancy today.”

“I do feel fancy today,” Simon replied, adjusting the jacket he had put on over his pink button-up shirt at the last moment because Hugh had told him that the restaurant had a pretty rigid dress code.

Simon almost didn’t put on the jacket out of pure spite. In fact, he spent all the way ranting about how it was stupid to have such a specific dress code in a place like Gatlon City, and that he bet that the owners of that restaurant, who now were acting like total snobs, had spent most of their lives wearing only a t-shirt and old jeans, like the rest of them.

Hugh, who had been wearing the jacket from the beginning (a blue one), was quiet, listening carefully to what Simon was saying until he blurted out:

“We can do something else if you want to.”

He didn't say it in an “I’m hurt by your comment” tone. Instead, he said it the same way he would tell him that they could watch another movie or that they could get take out instead of cooking dinner. He said it as if the reservation he made was not at stake, or as if he hadn’t been sending him hints of wanting to go to that specific restaurant since New Year.

Simon knew that if he had said yes, Hugh would have taken him wherever he wanted. However, Simon also knew that it didn't matter where they went. They had spent Valentine's in an alley, at a fair, fighting villains, and in a house too small for seven people. And in all those places, he had a great time.

Surely that place was… snobbish, but he could have a great time there too.

After all, they were together.

He was sure Hugh knew that too.

Hugh nodded, agreeing with him. He hardly ever agreed with someone other than himself anymore.

“Is this your strange way of making me say you look good too?” he asked him then.

And Hugh’s smile grew bigger. “Simon Westwood, you are the love of my life,” he replied taking his hand, “and this is my strange way of telling you I forgot my wallet at home.”

Simon laughed so loudly that the other customers turned to see him. But he couldn't care less. He kind of wanted them to saw them. He wanted them to notice how much he was laughing and he wanted them to see him kiss Hugh as he reached for his pockets…

Oh, no.

“Hugh.”

He tensed. “Yes, dear husband of mine who’s going to pay for this dinner?”

“You look good too.”

That was enough for Hugh to realize that Simon had also left his wallet at the house.

The two remained serious for a long time. But then, Simon could see how Hugh's brain clicked in a very strange way, which made him see this whole situation as the funniest thing that had ever happen to him.

He kissed him once more.

They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.

Boy, he would like to see someone try.

#queercreators #queercreators02 #renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #humon #obsi's writs

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ikevamp-shrine · 5 years ago

Note

Can u do another headcannon/scenario thingy of the boys hold/see their child for the first time but with Leonardo, Arthur, and Isaac. If u can’t I understand

Of course I can. Thank you for asking.

Anyone who would like to ask me to write something for them are more than welcomed to ask. Just make sure you say whether you would like a headcannon, fic, or drabble. Also please include what characters you would like to me to write for.

I only do Ikevamp. (That does not include Vlad, Charles, and Faust because I cannot read Japanese, so therefore literally have no knowledge on them)

Characters: Leonardo, Arthur, Isaac

Warnings: birth

Leonardo

when he was told he was going to be a father he couldn’t have been more ecstatic, even if there was always a worry about how his vampiric side would effect the child emotionally and physically

he was napping in a random hallway after becoming too tired from walking from the library to his room when his s/o started screaming bloody murder

when it was time to start pushing he was suddenly attacked by a flurry of fist from the laboring woman and all he could do was stare wide eyed at her fury

after being attacked he had slipped behind her shaking body, her back to his chest, and held both of her hands in his own and helped coach her through the contractions

constantly whispered how beautiful she was in her ear

“you’ve got this cara mia, I believe in you”

when the child’s cry pierced the air he felt his whole body relax with relief

holding the tiniest child he had ever seen in his arms and staring in to that said baby’s bright golden eyes was the straw that broke the camel’s back

basically- he was a complete goner

can you say protective daddy to the max?

“we’re going to learn so many new fascinating discovers together little one”

Arthur

he was out in the city running a pregnancy craving food spree when his s/o went into labor

he didn’t know what was telling him to return home, but he listened to his gut and practically moved at light speed to get back with the food in bags in his hands

it was like all hell broke loose when he was gone

when he found his laboring momma, men were running around like a chicken with their head cut off, clothes were thrown all over the walls and floors, bed covers where in the bath tub, there was a broken vase pushed to the side, and in no way, shape, or form did Arthur want to know what was huddled in the corner

quickly he had jumped into action, his doctor side pushing its way out, and started to yell out orders

“Towels, blankets, warm water, surgical tools, pillows, and somebody get Vincent out of here before he contaminates the area with his puke!”

the birth was tricky and many times Arthur felt like breaking down at the thought that his love could be just like so many other women he had tried to help give birth, only for both the child and mother to die.

but he refused to stop working for even a moment, for his s/o needed him, and he was not going to allow neither the child or the mother to die, if they did he would have followed them to the after-life

he was the first one to hold the child (being the doctor and all) and the screams of the child sounded like music to his ears

they would both live

the child was so warm and he felt that warmth pierce his heart and grasp the beating organ, refusing to let go

“I bought your pickles luv”

Isaac

he was freaking terrified

he was with her when all of a sudden water gushed from her lady bits wetting the carpet below and the leg of his pants after a few “phantom contractions” (not real contractions his butt) wetting the carpet below and the leg of his pants

‘they’re fine’ she had said, ‘it wasn’t time yet’ she had told him. Yeah right.

the time to push came faster than what he would have calculated because soon he had found himself holding one leg and one hand of his s/o having a perfect view of the window the child would push its ways through

he could have sworn he looked death in the eyes during the birth

it was absolute madness

the laboring woman continued to spout curses and threats his way while (what he assumed) purposely trying to break his hand, saying how “this is all your fault” and he quotes, “you are never sticking your dick in me ever again!” (he about cried at that one)

he had felt his soul leave his body when the child’s head started to show

he would never admit it but he had threw up in his mouth and almost passed out on the floor many times

but all the terrifying moments, threats, curses, broken bones, and throw up was all worth it in the end when he had heard the child cry

Isaac was an only child with no father figure growing up so he had no idea what to do when he was handed the whimpering child

but when the baby, his baby, took hold of his finger and started chewing on it, it was like a rush of adoration and protectiveness washed over him causing him to relax from his awkward and uncomfortable position

“Do you think they’ll like apples too, Arthur?” “Well if they are anything like their father I would assume so, Dazai.” “My child was just born and you two are already bullying them?”

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen series #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur #ikemen vampire isaac #ikevamp isaac #ask #ask me things

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pyrrhesia · 3 years ago

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FF14 Write - ‘Commend’

In which Cwenthryth Sadler feels confusion over feeling things.

The roof-tiles clattered as a strong hand clawed its way over the rim, hauling a face above the edge. Cwenthryth Sadler took a deep breath, swung a meaty leg up over the side and rolled onto the rooftop, onto her back. She rested her hands on her stomach as she got her breath back, staring at a sky that seemd somehow clearer, less... polluted, for the absence of the thing she'd helped to put down. She could hear the sounds of the city in the distance. Some singing, some chatter, some clatter. Mostly, though, it was just her and the night.

Cwenthryth stood at attention, her hands behind her back, the better to hide that she was tensing and untensing a fist. Big Lazlo was not one of those ironically named gangers. Big Lazlo drank from a flagon that looked like a toy in his hands, a more than proficient bruiser in his day who had gone thoroughly to seed, but was still more than capable of breaking fingers on his own. The fact that Big Lazlo was meeting Cwenthryth personally, rather than delegating it to one of a swarm of interchangeable, unshaven men, did not bode well. "Tell me what you told Papasota. I want to hear it from you." The lies came through, stilted and unconvincing even - especially - to herself, no matter how often she'd rehearsed them in her head. "Your man did not have the money. There was nothing he could have done to pay off the debt. I thought if he had time he could get the money together--" "Oh, you thought, did you," said Big Lazlo, dripping with scorn. "Uh." "But you didn't think to yourself at all about where he was living? He had a house! He had... vases and shit! He could've paid if he feared me enough, and your one job was to make sure he felt that fear. Make sure everyone felt that fear!" "Uh." "Who the hell do you think you are?" Blink. Blink. Cwenthryth wasn't really good at these kinds of existential questions. "Cwenthryth Sadler," she said eventually. "Oh, so you want to be smart with me." "No." "'Cause you aren't smart. You're shit under my heel. You let me do the thinking--" He went on for some time. Cwenthryth had heard it before, from a variety of sources. Generally aimed towards other people. Eventually, she processed that she'd been asked a question. "Uh?" "I said, you aren't getting soft on me, are you? Cwenthryth's brain latched on the literal interpretation and wouldn't let go. Her brow furrowed. "I'm as fit as ever. I think." Big Lazlo chuckled, mirthless, and heaved himself out of his seat. Lieutenants watched him, nervously. They knew him well enough to see that look in his eyes and step aside. Cwenthryth tensed. It hadn't been the best lie, but it was what he'd wanted to hear, right? Play herself up as the brainless Mhigan thug the man wanted to see her as, that most everyone seemed to want to see her as... but how could he possibly react better to the truth? That she was... having visions? And every step he took towards her, her brain began to fizz and sputter, as slowly the world began to slip into shapes and colours and she... ... remembered vividly standing at attention in this very room - merely Tall Lazlo, then - standing back, letting his comrade do the talking, letting him talk his way into trouble, and the boss had produced a smile that did not reach his eyes and produced a knife from nowhere and opened his throat; and after that there would be no questions, no deviations, only respect... Cwenthryth forced herself upright. Big Lazlo grinned. "Aw, no need to be scared." He glanced at his lieutenants, gestured at her, they laughed along obligingly, we're all mates here, after all-- -- and somehow, in senses beyond intuition, Cwenthryth knew he was picking that moment to strike. She threw herself back as the hidden dagger slashed where she'd stood, and there was a moment of confusion, just a moment - they'd searched her for weapons, but there was still his for the taking as she lunged forward, took him through the knee which crunched underneath her boot, drove her knee through his face, the dagger slipped and clattered, she snatched it up, raked it across the eyes of the closest lieutenant, turned away from him as he fell, Big Lazlo threw himself forward, they wrestled and rolled and tumbled on the floor as his hands worked around her throat, but with a shift of the shoulders she halted their momentum, landed on top, drove down the dagger again and again and again-- His body went limp. All she could hear was the blinded man screaming and her own panting for breath. She looked up at the remaining lieutenant, biding her time, weighing up her options. She made her decision for her, casting the dagger at her feet, somehow sure it wouldn't end up in her back. Laboriously, she got to her feet and strode out the front.

She'd spent much of the next days drinking hard, with her back to the wall. It was Momodi, in the end, who gave her the tip. It was hard not to confide at least something to Momodi, deep in your cups and searching for answers. Cwenthryth asked if the visions meant she was going mad. She didn't expect a job opportunity to come out of it. Granted, she reflected on the road out of the city - the same road she'd flooded in when she was six, one of the arguably lucky few to find refuge within the walls, and hadn't left since - it could be argued that marching straight into the maw of the Amal'jaa was not so much a job opportunity as elaborate suicide. But some part of her felt up to it, in the bizarre rogues' gallery she found herself shoulder-to-shoulder with; knights and academics, foreigners and mathematicians. She found herself on the fringes of the group, speaking little, listening close. Of course, trust her luck to fail her within the day. It didn't matter how they wound up together in that hellish pit, when they found themselves facing down a primal. When the time came, Cwenthryth rose to the challenge. Her shots found their marks, and some deep instinct within her - something beyond the street wisdom necessary just to make it to her late 20s in Ul'dah - kept her out of danger, leaping away just before gouts of flame burst from the ground where she'd been. And every opening, she nocked and loosed, until her quiver ran dry and she brought out the axe at her belt, until somehow, at long last, they brought the thing down. Little time to waste, they ran like hell for Camp Drybone, the walking wounded carried by those with strength to spare. Somehow, they'd made it out alive.

That had almost felt routine. Their reception at the camp, however, that was a new and different challenge. Her line of work back in Ul'dah hadn't lent itself to shows of gratitude, pats on the back. She got results or she was made to regret it. But here, people she'd never seen before were smiling at her. She'd been told she was doing a good thing. Helping save what stubbornly remained her city. It was like some kind of magic. Yesterday she'd been a brute, today a heroine. Did she deserve that, just because her talent for violence had found a better target? Would they turn on her, once they knew - really knew - who she was? Could this be a fresh start, in better company? Gods... She'd needed space from all the feelings swirling in her chest, even the good ones. The only place to escape was up, and waiting out the night. She shifted herself upright, sitting on the ledge of the rooftop, pulling a bottle of wine she'd looted from the festivities from a weather-beaten satchel. Maybe it was okay if she didn't know what to make of it all. Perhaps it was alright to just take the credit, and the warm flutter in her heart, and move on. She raised herself a toast.

#FFxivWrite2021 #commend #OC: cwenthryth sadler #not one of the better ones; got objective creep #and then too much fatigue to land it properly #but it's Done

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thatonedracostan · 5 years ago

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Snow // Draco Malfoy x Reader

Enjoy this fanfic I literally wrote while listening to Lover by Taylor Swift on loop.

Disclaimer: I haven’t written anything fandom related for the last two years please go easy on me (I’ll work with my titles soon lmao)

This is my first Draco Malfoy/Reader fanfic as well! I’ll be writing more in the future as well.

Feel free to send a request!

Word Count: 1538

Moonlight illuminated the snow-covered streets as a chilly breeze flew past the couple who was sitting on a park bench, huddling for warmth. The two had just finished their yearly tradition of doing a “Muggle Holiday Tradition” as Y/N would call it. This year it was ice-skating which led to a playful snowball fight afterward.

Despite the cold weather, the streets were still packed with people, it’s Christmas season, after all. Years ago, Draco would never dare imagine himself in a place like this, surrounded by muggles as he held the love of his life in his arm.

“I already told you a snowball fight with me is not a great idea. It’s admitting defeat.” He grinned as he held her closer to him. Y/N shivered underneath his hold. “You were unfair. A snowball fight means we THROW snowballs at each other, not shove snow in the other’s clothes.” She pouted, avoiding his gaze.

Draco laughed at the sight in front of him. Her face was flushed due to the cold and her pouty expression did not help at all. It just made him want to clash his lips against her even more, but he wouldn’t. He’s still trying to enjoy the view. “We both know you would’ve done the same if I didn’t beat you to it, love.” He chuckled and leaned towards her, the point of their noses colliding.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t” Draco pressed his lips against her. The warmth of her lips felt nice against his in contrast to the cold winter air that blew around them. He felt her smile through the kiss and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled away from the kiss. “You’re right. I don’t and I would never.”

Y/N unwrapped her arms around him and stood up. “Well, it’s getting late. We should head home.” She reached out an arm to him, offering her hand and Draco took it before standing up.

The two of them headed home, hand in hand. Their flat was located somewhere around the city corner. Thinking about their shared home makes Draco feel warm. It was her idea. She thought that it would be nice if the two of them had a place for themselves instead of staying in the manor. What makes him more proud is that they bought it with the money they worked hard for. He didn’t use a cent from his family’s fortune as per Y/N’s request. He complained at first but she managed to convince him either way.

He thought it was strange. They were both purebloods and came from wealthy families but Y/N wanted something different. His parents were not amused by this idea, their son settling in the muggle world. They were even convinced that Y/N has bewitched him but he couldn’t care less. She made him see things from a new perspective and he loved her for that.

Draco was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice they were already home. Y/N pulled the keys from her purse and opened the door. Y/N immediately crashed on the couch and Draco went ahead to light the fireplace. After that, he sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

There’s comfortable silence between them and none of them wanted to break it. She cuddled closer to him, burying her face on his chest. He ran his hand on her head, stroking her hair slowly. His mind drifted into the past. He remembered the first time he saw Y/N during his 4th year in Hogwarts. He remembered approaching her in the middle of a snowy day after Blaise and Theo has mocked him that day, saying that he’s terrible in making acquaintances even if he tried hard. A scarf was wrapped nicely around her neck as she sat on one of the courtyard’s benches, reading a book.

“Hey.” He greeted. The busy girl looked up to look at the person who just spoke to her. Her expression turned into a shocked one when she noticed who was standing in front of her. “Hello.” She greeted back. There was an awkward silence before Draco decided to break it. “My name’s Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” He said reaching out his hand for a handshake. The girl in front of him looked at him as if he was mad. “I know.” She replied. Draco didn’t know what to say next. For once, he was at a loss for words.

“You know, if you’re going to make fun of me, I’m going to hex you.” He was surprised by her statement. Of course, Draco Malfoy was known as a bully throughout the entire school, he wasn’t surprised that this girl in front of him has her guard up. He grinned at her. “It seems like I’m known even in the lower years.” She looked at him one last time before going back to the book she was reading. “If you have nothing else to say, please leave. As you can see, I’m busy.” His grin faltered. It looks like he chose a difficult person to be acquainted with. Still, he was determined to know who this girl was. He’s never seen anyone stand up to him like that. Well, except for his friends.

“You didn’t introduce yourself.”

“Why do you care?” She replied, not even looking up from the book she was reading. She was starting to piss him off. How can she just dismiss him like that?

“Hey!” She shouted as the blond boy snatched the book from her hands. “What are you even reading?” He looked at the cover. “The Cask of Amontillado? Is this some sort of muggle literature?” He looked at her with disgust. “You’re a mudblood, aren’t you?” She snatched the book from his grasp, her face red with anger. “For your information, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, a pureblood. Now please, just leave me alone before I truly hex you.” Y/N spat out, her voice obviously filled with rage as she walked away.

“Y/L/N” He thought to himself. The name sounded familiar to him but he can’t exactly point it out. He shrugged it off and headed to his common room.

“Helloooo? Earth to Draco Malfoy, are you there?” His thoughts were interrupted by Y/N, who was now waving her hand in front of his face. “Yes, love. I’m here.” He replied as he took the hand in front of him and intertwined their fingers. “Good. What was on your mind that had you so deep in your thoughts, though?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, curiosity in her eyes. He stared at her for a while. Why is she so adorable?

“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a grin plastered on his face. Y/N laughed. “Of course. You were a git. I was just minding my own business and you decided to randomly show up just to take my book and call me a mudblood.” She answered. “I remember it as clear as day.” The two laughed. “Instead of mudblood, you would call me a blood-traitor whenever you saw me just because of the book I was reading when we first met.” She took her hand back and crossed her arms.

“Hey I apologized for that, didn’t I?” He defended himself. “Yeah, after I beat your ass in a duel you challenged me into!” She sneered. “I really put you in your place, didn’t I? You were still mean to everyone, but me. You became awfully nice and it surprised me.”

“Well, that’s because I saw you as an equal. I was glad that I finally found someone who’s on par with me.” He explained. “Really? Is that why you asked me to the Yule Ball? Because I was “on par” with you? Hm?” She asked in a teasing manner. Y/N squealed as Draco tackled her onto the couch, pinning her underneath him.

“You know damn well why I asked you that time.” He whispered. His face was inches from hers. “It’s because The Draco Malfoy has caught feelings for me” Y/N brought her hand to his face and lightly tapped his nose.

“What’s got you all sentimental, anyway?” Y/N asked as she stared deeply into his grey eyes. He sighed as he adjusted and laid his head on her chest. “It’s the snow I guess. It was snowing when I first met you.” He closed his eyes as he listened to her heartbeat.

“You know, If someone told me back then that I’d be spending the rest of my life with Draco Malfoy, I wouldn’t have believed them.” Y/N reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “But here we are anyway.”

She ran a finger through his skin. It reminded her of snow with how pale he is. He looked so peaceful just lying there with his eyes closed. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she heard Draco whisper her name.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you.”

She chuckled.

“I love you too, Draco.”

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco #malfoy #reader insert #draco reader insert #hp #draco malfoy imagines #fluff #domestic #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #hp fanfic #draco fluff #draco x reader #enjoy :)

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iatheia · 4 years ago

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EDA reviews Part 6 - books 47-55

Previous part 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5

47) The Slow Empire - Uh, couldn't really follow this one at all. There are books when the first person narration works, but not here - too many jumps in setting, too little connective tissue, most of it told from the POV of a person who is barely connected to the protagonists? And that's even before they started repeating chunks of text wholesale between various parts - and I couldn't figure out if it was intended, or if it is the ebook was acting out on me. More than half way through the book, I still couldn't entirely tell what the story is supposed to be about, or if the plot has even started yet. Even having finished it, I find myself somewhat aghast. There are a few glimpses of something interesting, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what. 4/10

48) Dark Progeny - Also not really feeling it. It's not a bad story, but I do rather prefer a Doctor Who story to actually feature the Doctor and the companions front and center, whether they are POV characters or not. Here, though, they are barely in it - it's even more egregious than the previous one in actually giving the supposed protagonists stuff to do, and even on rare occasions we do switch back to them, it is all pretty generic. Anji developing telepathic abilities and the Doctor trying to calm her down all the while Fitz is freaking out in the background? Yes, please, more of that. Following around 20 interchangeable OCs that have nothing to do with the trio? No thank you. 6/10.

49) The City of the Dead - If you are invoking magic in a sci-fi universe, you need to be able to handwave it. It doesn't need to be awfully complex, "something something aliens, something something energy" is usually enough, but without it, you can't just throw magic about willy nilly. There are rules.

There are moments when it is a beautiful story, evoking a lot of dream-like wonder, and if it managed to remain a hazy dream, it probably would have been better for it. At the same time there is something very uncomfortably cynical about it, to the degree it left a bad taste in my mouth. There is a narrow line between not shying away from the ugliness of the world and deliberately making something ugly just for the sake of it, and often it felt like it was leaning towards the latter. Dunno, I started out wanting to like it, and feeling rather conflicted about it, but by the end became utterly indifferent. 7/10

50) Grimm Reality - Pure crack. Mind Robber wishes it could be as hilarious and off the wall as this story is. It throws every cliche fairy tale narrative device in the book at the characters and expects them to take it with the straight face, all the while realizing that the rules of the world are completely bonkers. And it manages to sustain this energy throughout, which is a no small feat. It's actually pretty exhausting by the end of it. Fairy tales stories do not belong to a lengthy literary genre, and even taking time deconstructing them, at 95K words becomes it becomes just too much - figuratively, and, on occasion, literally. Still, pretty great, I wish more books had its energy 9/10.

51) The Adventuress of Henrietta Street - *sigh*. My expectations were pretty low to begin with, and I still am somehow disappointed. Credit where credit's due - it is probably most coherent of the books from Miles. And at least it's better than Interference. That's really not saying much, though.

Honestly, if you've read any story about prostitutes, murder, satanic sex rituals bordering on blatant pornography, eastern culture and "mysticism of female sex" used for fetish fuel, written by a dude who clearly gets off on all of this - you've read all of them. There is really nothing revolutionary or compelling about it. On the list of "plots I never want to see in Doctor Who", they are definitely up there. And the Doctor is dying again, because it wouldn't be Miles's book without it. And he's, uh... living in a brothel, trying to marry someone, in order to, uh..... ritualistically tie himself to Earth, for, reasons? Did I read that right? After over 100 years of living on Earth and wanting to do nothing else than seeing the back of it, right. And writing books not quite about sex but definitely about sex. Because that's the thing the Doctor apparently does now. Self insert what self insert. And Fitz and Anji are just... there. On an occasion. All of it exposed on in a dull faux academic style without a shred of characterization, all the while absolutely nothing of note is happening, despite being a singularly longest EDA.

Just, if you hate the characters so much. If you don't understand what makes them tick to this degree. If you don't even care to learn. If you consider any established emotions they should have about the plot you are putting them through beneath you. Why are you writing in a shared universe to begin with? 2/10

(I did have an unintentional moment of hilarity with it, though. There is a character that is referred to as Lord ______, as if his name is censored. TTS would always pronounce it as Lord Underbarunderbarunderbar. Always gave me a chuckle).

52) Mad Dogs and Englishmen - A hilarious story, a very easy read, flowing from scene to scene. There are several occasions of fridge horror treated with levity that I would have rather have avoided. Plus, it is as incestuous as a book about books can get, and yet.... It is just absurd enough to work.

Plus, the whole, “His books are full of black magic, mind control...and perversion - moral and ethical and sexual. He is polluting the atmosphere of our group”, “What’s next? Rewrite War and Peace so it’s about guinea pigs?” - Oh, the shade. It is a good book in its own right, but just for this alone, 10/10

53) Hope - It's a pretty average book. Not outstanding, not horrible. Would have made a decent episode, all things considered, in a bread and butter sort of way. It does have some great ideas - the refuge of humanity, the conflict between Anji and the Doctor finally coming to light - not quite the type of conflict I was hoping for, though. If only it had a bit more nuisance, without neatly delineated black and white, if the antagonist didn't end up being a mustache twirling villain, if the Doctor didn't end up strong-arming everyone in a much more macho manner than he normally goes for (with a rather clunky dialogue). It had potential, even if it didn't end up being realized in full. 8/10

54) Anachrophobia - Very meh. The set up was fairly contrived, it never made me care about any of the characters, including whatever the hell the Doctor and co were doing, not to mention any of the secondary characters. Not terribly engaging, after a point I was mostly flipping through it. There is some big conflict brought up at 95% mark, and it is resolved in just couple of pages via a deus ex machina and a paradox. Overall, I might have said that I would have liked it better if I was in a mood for existential horror, but I took a break in the middle to listen to the Lease of Life - and it actually touches upon several similar themes, but with and outstanding character drama and much more graceful execution, which made this book look even more poor in comparison. 5/10

55) Trading Futures - I will give the author all the points for keeping an eye on the future. Perhaps, in 2002, predicting tablets being used as menus in fancy restaurants wasn’t that big of a reach, but I absolutely had a spit take when TTS has read to me something about “eye-phones”. There are some modestly clever moments throughout the book. Too bad that the rest of it is a complete rubbish. Not terribly original, either - a lot of ideas are copied directly from other books and other franchises. Reasonably entertaining, all things considered, but in a much more slapstick sort of way than was probably intended. 7/10

Overall impressions so far - This batch is, for the most part, fine. Some stories are worst than others, some better. With one exception, nothing horrendous, but nothing to write home about, either. They are, for the most part, serviceable. Individually, they have decent enough plots. But. There is very little character work. They can generally be read in any order, or dropped entirely, and you wouldn’t miss anything. The Doctor is mostly coasting from the excellent streak in the last batch, always in a spot light. I am starting to tire of the whole amnesia arc, though - it was good, but it ran its course, and at this point, with everything functionally back to norm, with barely a stray mention of it here and there, we are starting to be overdue for some semblance of resolution of all that. Henrietta Street is entirely a step in the wrong direction - not only it does nothing worthwhile for the characters, it’s just getting unnecessarily further into the weedworks, adding yet another plot thread that is forced on other writers to carry (they mention it occasionally, but it’s not like there is much to build upon) - rather viciously reminding of the previous mess of an ark “don’t you dare to think that it is over”. And I am so over it. Just, move on.

The companions fare rather worse. They are decent enough, they participate in action, in each book, they are mostly staying in character, with a handful of neat moments here and there (in a blink and you’ll miss it sort of way, though), they aren’t written off as an unnecessary burden to carry, which is an improvement. There is nothing meaty given to them though - they ask the necessary questions, do the things required of them, and generally stay out of the way when they are not needed. I guess Anji has at least some character driven moments, even though most of them are reduced to “I miss my dead boyfriend”. Which is... fine, we’ve all lost people, we all mourn them in our own way, but it has been 14 books since her introduction, and she is leaving in another 10. To have her character reduced to just that bit from her first book, with barely anything else to offer.... Plus, all the while, she rarely felt like she integrated into the team - because she is constantly eying her exit and returning to normality (even though she always decides to stay just a little while longer due to circumstances), it’s like from the very beginning she had one foot out of the door.

But while Anji is a bit of a one trick pony, at least she has that much. Poor Fitz gets absolutely nothing to do. The last meaningful book that addressed his character in any way was all the way back around book #42-43, and even that was just catching up on plot after his prolonged absence. He’s been essentially frozen since early 30s books. He is generally a fun character to have around, and does good supporting work, but can he please get something more impactful any time soon? Heck, by this point I’ll even take the recurrence of “finding a new love interest number 20 who will inevitably die by the end of the book” - it has been overdone, and it is certainly not a very exciting plot, not to mention reductive, but at least it’d be something. Though, I guess only one companion is allowed to carry that staple at the time, and right now Anji is it, two dead lovers is just an overkill.

And it is an absolute shame - especially when considering that on the other side, Big Finish was in the middle of streak of some of the best stories. Over the same time that these novels were published, we had audios such as Project Twilight, Eye of the Scorpion, Colditz, One Doctor, Chimes of Midnight, Seasons of Fear, which were full of character.

#doctor who #eighth doctor #eighth doctor adventures #eda

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raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

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10. staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in for raleigh x mc

(this is a lil continuation of this)

with at least a thousand people in the venue, he should’ve been able to ignore her, no problem.

as the party raged on around him, raleigh knew he should’ve been able to find a distraction, especially with so many -- drugs, alcohol, industry people to avoid and women to flirt with -- at his fingertips.

but he wasn’t interested in those. the only thing he was interested in was loitering by the bar, looking ethereal in a long, silk gown cinched at her narrow waist. as his eyes trailed over her from behind, lingering on the line of her spine under the fabric, he wondered if the marks he’d left on her last saturday when she’d come over and immediately pulled him into his bedroom had faded yet.

before he could get too caught up in the memory, cadence turned and caught his eye. she had a champagne flute in one delicately manicured hand and didn’t appear surprised at all to find him staring at her, like she could feel the heat of his gaze even with so many people between them.

raleigh slid his eyes slowly down her body and then turned away, heading for the balcony at the far side of the room. if he knew her at all --

footsteps echoed in his ears a moment later, and the door closed behind cadence as she stepped up beside him. the sound from the party faded into silence, and just like that, it felt like they were completely alone. he stared out over the city as she leaned her arms on the balcony beside him.

“hey.”

unable to resist the temptation, he slid his eyes to the side and glanced at her. just a glimpse was enough to weaken his resolve; raleigh turned his head fully and took her in from up close. she was just as stunning as she’d been in his fresh-from-tour sheets on saturday, smiling up at him while he leaned over her in bed.

“hey, stranger,” raleigh returned casually -- more casually than he felt. “long time no see.”

she was still carrying her champagne flute and he ached, suddenly, for a drink of his own -- anything that’d make this interaction go down a little easier. especially considering that the illusion of privacy they had was just that: an illusion. no one here could know that they were anything other than broken up -- if they even were anything else. which he doubted.

“i forgot to ask you,” she murmured, flushing a little for some reason he couldn’t understand, “how was europe? tour?”

true, they hadn’t done much talking on saturday. he’d barely dropped his bags before she came in from the private elevator and took him to bed. and she’d left pretty quickly afterwards.

“nice, i guess. it was only fifteen cities. done pretty quickly.” raleigh tapped his fingers against the stone ledge of the balcony. “what about you? got a release date for that album yet?”

it felt strange, making small talk with her. they weren’t small talk people -- or they never had been, before. maybe they were now.

“not yet. i’m still working on a few things.” a breeze blew through the balcony and cadence took a step closer to him, pressing her shoulder into his. raleigh turned his gaze back out at the city and then sighed, stepping away.

“what’d you come out here for?”

cadence blinked at him. “what?”

he grit his teeth. “i said, why’d you follow me out here?”

“i... i don’t know. i thought you wanted to talk in private. you were staring at me.”

raleigh stepped away from the railing, then, turning towards her fully. fortunately, with the door shut behind them and the heavy curtains covering the windows, the chances of anyone inside seeing them were minimal. "of course i was. i haven’t heard from you all week.”

cadence’s brow furrowed, and she turned towards him, too, leaning her hip against the balcony ledge. “was i supposed to call you?”

he gaped back at her in disbelief. “okay -- you know what? forget it. i need to not be around you for awhile. i’ll see you later.”

she reached out for his arm before he could turn away and wrapped her fingers around the sleeve of his jacket tightly. “hey, what the hell is your problem? why are you mad at me?”

“i’m not mad at you,” he sighed, drawing in a deep breath to calm himself down before stepping closer to her again. “i just don’t want to do this with you right now.”

cadence dropped his arm and then folded her own under her chest, frowning at him. “good to see you’re as emotionally stunted as ever.”

raleigh’s patience instantly snapped cleanly in two. “i’m emotionally -- you’re out of your fucking mind,” he seethed, doing his very best to keep his voice low, even as he leaned in closer, crowding her back against the balcony’s ledge. “what’s your endgame with these mixed signals, anyway? i’d love to know.”

her eyes narrowed. “i haven’t been giving you any mixed signals.”

raleigh ticked each one off on his fingers as he said, “first you break up with me. then you write a song telling everyone you love me -- everyone except me -- then you come over and sleep with me after ignoring me for three months and now you think that i’m the one with the problem because i want to get over you in peace instead of playing this head game. i’d say those are pretty mixed, from where i’m standing.”

cadence leaned in closer, her face flushed -- a telltale sign that she was growing annoyed with him. “we broke up because of you. maybe you don’t remember, but you spent most of our relationship acting like you barely wanted me around.”

“that literally could not possibly be farther from the truth,” he shot back, leaning over her. his hands braced on the railing behind her back, caging her in. as he came closer, he noticed cadence’s eyes drop to his mouth, and his next retort died in his throat as the pink on her cheeks deepened.

there was nothing but the sound of the wind, then, and their own breathing. cadence still looked pretty angry at him, but her eyes were soft where they were narrowed in on his lips, and, with a swallow, he shifted his own gaze to her mouth, too.

her lips were parted and painted a soft pink; the memory of kissing her on saturday was making his fingers twitch where he was gripping the railing behind her. it’d be easy to go for it -- he’d only have to move an inch, and then she’d be in his arms again, and he could kiss her...

god, he was still so fucking mad at her, though. without lifting his eyes, he sighed, “if you don’t want to be with me then you need to leave me alone.”

cadence pursed her lips. a long moment of silence stretched between them.

then she leaned forward and kissed him. though he knew he should’ve seen it coming, raleigh was still surprised; his hands found the small of her back after a moment and he pulled her closer, kissing her back forcefully.

no matter how much time had passed, cadence still felt the same under his hands. she still tasted the same, still responded the same, still fit perfectly against him. she did something to him he was sure no one else would ever be able to manage.

the little half-sigh, half-moan she exhaled into his mouth just before she bit his lip went straight to his dick, and while he knew there was absolutely no way he could get her undressed out here, at an industry party, on the balcony in front of the entirety of midtown manhattan -- he still wanted. he was only human.

and he’d missed her.

cadence ripped her face away with a gasp, staring at him in surprise like she hadn’t been the one to kiss him. raleigh squeezed her waist, then asked, “you okay?”

she hesitated, then blew a lock of hair out of her eyes with a huff of annoyance. “no. i really miss you.”

he bit the inside of his cheek. she was just talking shit, same as always. “i’m right here.”

“not, like -- not, like, now. always. i miss being with you all the time.”

“cadence --”

“no,” she interrupted, “listen.” he shut his mouth and watched her draw in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “the reason why i ended things was because i felt like you were never going to be able to be serious about us.”

raleigh met her eyes and found himself unable to look away from how they were pleading at him. “but -- you were serious about us, right?” she asked, her voice so soft he could barely hear her over the wind. “the whole time, right?”

he pulled one hand away from her to run it through his hair. “yeah.”

she nodded, and as he stared at her some more he started to realize she’d never known that before right now. which meant he probably had been a pretty shitty boyfriend.

“look,” he started again, “i thought the way i felt about you was obvious. you should’ve told me you had doubts.”

cadence averted her eyes. she still had her arms looped around his neck. “i know.” he shifted to get a little closer to her and felt her fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck. it felt almost unnaturally good. “but... we could try this again, if you want.”

raleigh lifted a hand to her chin and tilted her face up. when their eyes met she looked both hopeful and sad in a way that made his heart pound.

one day she really was going to ruin his life.

in lieu of an answer, he leaned down and kissed her again. cadence pushed back off the ledge of the balcony, pressing her body firmly against his.

into her ear, so that he could be sure she’d hear him over the wind, raleigh finally told her exactly how he felt, as plainly as possible.

#this is soooooo old and don't get any ideas anyone bc i'm not doing more of these i just hoarded this one in case i ever felt like doing it #raleigh carrera #platinum #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x cadence #raleigh x mc #myfic #long post #wow i'm glad i saved this bc i really wanted to write raleigh today and #i have 0 ideas for the july challenge

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years ago

Text

Hello hello,

here we go. Thank you for staying with me and thank you @lumosinlove for creating this world =)

This is still dark (but we’re getting a bit better) so please stay safe.

Chapter 10

They stopped in front of a big apartment-building, windows mostly dark, it was almost one in the morning. There was no doorman, no entry hall to the building, just a corridor leading to stairs and a concerningly dingy lift. Ouais, enfin… maybe I pay with my kidneys for this, after all.

The door to the flat opened, Regulus was pushed in and all but froze. He had never seen such a place.

There was no entrance hall in here either, the front door directly opened into a small living room with an open kitchen and a dinner table shoved into a corner, half hidden behind an overloaded laundry rack.

The windowsills were crammed with pot-plants in several states of... health? survival? decay? Books and knickknacks were messily shoved into the tall but sloping shelves lining the walls, which were painted in a soft warm yellow, making the room look sunny and warm, even in the middle of the night.

Nothing, not even the chairs or precariously crooked shelves seemed to belong to the same set of furniture. And was one of the table-legs different from the others?

It was... all over the place, really.

The worn maroon rug in the living area clashed horribly with the big, ugly purple corduroy couch and the mismatched and multicoloured throw pillows.

Posters of 80's movies -Regulus recognised Ghost Busters and Back to the Future- and lots of unframed photographs almost covered the wall behind the couch.

On the far wall were three doors, one closed, one revealing bits of a very messy bedroom, the other ajar, sporting a poster of a rather ancient wooden privy... What. The. Hell.

Regulus did not know what to make of this. He somehow loved it instantly while simultaneously cringing over all the chaos and all the stuff crammed in here. His, stylistically uninspired, mother would probably die of shock at the view and somehow that made the place a little more endearing to him.

However, he always thought of himself as tidy and some part of him died just a bit at the sight of the mismatched socks and shirts littering the part of the bedroom-floor he could see. This place, starkly contrasting the house he grew up in was bursting with life, messy and welcoming instead of an assembly of model rooms resembling what was shown in some posh interior-design magazine. This is what a home looks like, Regulus decided.

He allowed himself to be ushered further inside.

"Leave you shoes here please and put your coat..." Regulus turned around as the sentence did not continue and saw Ben looking at the overflowing coatrack behind the door.

"...Put your coat somewhere you will find it again" he concluded, nodding to himself.

Mateo already went past them into the kitchen and dived headfirst into the fridge. "We have some left-over Minestrone from yesterday, if you want, Reg."

Regulus turned, having disposed of his coat on one of the chairs. As he didn't answer for long enough to be considered impolite, Mateo lifted his head from the fridge, noticing Regulus blank stare

"Is it OK, if we call you Reg? Regulus sounds so stiff..." This warm, infuriatingly disarming, smile. Regulus could only nod.

These people rendered him speechless at a disturbing rate. Usually, he chose not to speak but with them, he often couldn't.

The only one who had ever called him Reg was Sirius and even he stopped that years ago. Could he really be Reg again? Was he allowed to? No, a malicious voice echoed through his head. You do not deserve that comfort. Remember what you did. Regulus felt sick.

"Soooo... Minestrone?" – "I am not hungry, but thank you" Regulus looked at Mateo, hoping he would not call him Reg, regretting his thoughtless agreement.

"When’s the last time you eaten?" Ben asked as he came from the Bedroom in striped Pyjama-bottoms and an old shirt. Regulus tried to remember if he had had lunch today. Not good.

"If you need to think about it, it is too long ago. You eat." The man stated as Mateo chuckled and put a pot on the stove.

"Do never deny again that you are a freaking mother hen", he joked while walking into the bedroom, probably to change, too.

Regulus hovered in the room, wary and utterly confused. He struggled to maintain a safe distance, still trying to fathom what's going on and why these strangers were more welcoming and affectionate than his family ever been.

A quiet but reckless voice in his mind - very different from the sneer that chimed up just a minute ago and sounding suspiciously similar to a younger Sirius- reminded him that he fucked up already and that he might as well go and enjoy his time while the universe and/or his mother were probably already in preparation to take him down.

----------------------------------------------------------

A while later he was seated on the ugly, lumpy couch, nursing a bowl of minestrone. He was clad in a much too small shirt ("this is the biggest shirt we have, you are just a giant") and borrowed underwear (his blood-stained sweatpants were soaking in the sink along with his, also bloody, shirt) and wrapped in a baby blue blanket with pink chickens on it. Why does such an item even exist?

The TV provided mindless background-noise while Ben and Mateo chattered along about anything and everything. Regulus just sat there in silence and listened intently. He never met people who would just go on and lay out their life in front of a person they just met. Let alone a person they found bleeding in the shower, mid-meltdown... Maybe their life history hinted on why they were so careless with private information.

And they really were. They told him everything and Regulus was confident he could write their memoirs by now.

Apparently, Mateo grew up in Manaus, Brazil So, it was Portuguese, not Spanish. ("That's where Rio Negro and Rio Solimões meet to form the Amazonas" The more you know...) He came to the US to study medicine on a scholarship, is in the last weeks of his training and only stays in Slytherin because-

"One cannot choose their training hospitals on that scholarship. No offense, mate." None taken.

They recounted how they met almost five years ago at an airport. That, after spending eight hours waiting for their delayed flight, they were joined at the hip. "Metaphorically and literally." Regulus went bright red at the innuendo while Ben patted his back sympathetically, shaking with suppressed laughter. He and Mateo were huddled up together in a yellow blanket with... Flamingos? Where did they even get these bird-themed things?

Ben had a sister, Josephine, who stayed here during semester breaks ("But do call her Jo or she will end you.") After Regulus gave a pointed look to the closed door, he was informed that he did not need to worry about their noise as she slept like the dead and even overslept a fire alarm in the building last summer.

Jo was 18, like Regulus but already in her Sophomore at Boston University as she skipped a year in middle school. "Got herself a scholarship and does computer-sciences, the insufferable nerd and know-it-all."

"She's really great, Reg. Ben is just her brother and thus, bound to think she’s annoying." Mateo interrupted Bens speech about his sister.

Regulus allowed himself a minute of going over the relationship with his own brother. Sirius was annoying. Very annoying, to be exact. But if anyone except him had called him out in the past, Regulus remembered feeling a little surge of protection against the git he was related to... maybe this was a siblings-thing.

He focused back on the conversation in front of him, fascinated by the insight of other people’s relations and upbringing.

The siblings grew up in Bristol, Great Britain, and moved to New York when Ben was seventeen and Jo ten but he did not elaborate on why they came here. That’s why I couldn’t place the accent.

Ben had studied Art History at NYU and actually worked at the Art Gallery in the city-centre. Cleaning the rink in the evenings was his means to save money for a tattoo shop he wanted to open in Boston, where they would move, come February, for Mateo’s new job.

He got informed that a note has been shoved under Jos door, announcing his presence, a spare toothbrush was presented and then, at nearly half past two in the morning, he is left for the night with a hug (!) from both of them. How touchy they are.

Regulus was not cuddly, never had been.

Really? You loved to snuggle up with Sirius in bed. The voice of reckless young Sirius supplied unhelpfully. This whole situation was completely surreal but also comfortingly normal.

This is a dream or, more likely, a godamn fever-trip. C’est pourri! This is shit! Regulus sighed.

These people were mad... hell, they didn't even know him. Yet, they took him in, fed him (very good) soup and freaking hugged him good night. They probably even stayed awake that long, filling the air with their complete life-story to keep him from feeling lonely... Allez savoir pourquoi! God knows why!

Reckless young Sirius suggested again to just roll with it and Regulus began to wonder whether he, instead of them, had gone mad.

This life he had a short glimpse into, this night was not real for him. He couldn't have that, considering the family he was born into and his obligation to live up to their expectations. Not to mention that he absolutely did not deserve being cared for after he de facto kicked his brother in the face ruined and his career.

The tiny voice piped up again, but Regulus silenced it with an exasperated groan. Yep, mad.

He surely would not sleep here on this odd couch. He would sit here, mull over all the shit that happened in just this one day, wait for them to wake up to thank them appropriately, return to the Malfoys and sleep there for a week to recompose himself.

#the spare #regulus black #oc's #Sweater Weather #lumosinlove

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freewheelshippin · 4 years ago

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FIC: “What Do I Call You?”

There was something so honest about how she hyped the crowd, leaned so forward she seemed like she might leap into a crowdwalk, pointing at her ear until the whole crowd bellowed in their own guttoral harmony. And she smiled so much at her crewmates -- Ranmaru realized he was smiling, too, while she played guitar and accompanied the others’ solos, only breaking from her deep sway with the music to look at them with brightness and joy in her eyes.

In those moments, Ranmaru understood something he hadn’t before, but it also made him realize that the hunger in him wasn’t being sated so much as it was deepening.

So! I had some fun writing for the roleswap AU, where I’m the punk rock idol and Ranmaru’s the freelance artist getting some juice from all the love and music.

Not much by ways of content warnings -- lots of eating, a fair amount of alcohol, too, and you know, we utter the word ‘fuck’ a few times.

Ranmaru swore as he dropped the case on his toe. He could tell immediately that this was one of those jammed toes that would hurt for days from the bruising, especially when he still had half of the city to cross before he could get back home. And what was home? His shithole apartment and limping around while he went on his rounds for the local cats?

At least the train was empty enough he could sit alone, even comfortably with all his equipment. He was still cross that the live house didn’t have it themselves. Weren’t they professionals? Stupid. The show had sucked, too, with the band spending more time fucking around then putting on the damn show they were paid for, that their fans came out to see, that Ranmaru had put such care into getting the tech just right to enhance. And that one jackass trying to throw hands with anyone in the crowd. Nobody on staff did a fucking thing to kick him out until Ranmaru dragged him out himself, and now he had a black eye and the stink of shitty beer and stale cigarette smoke hanging on him to show for it.

Thirty minutes ‘til his stop. He could listen to some music to smooth over this shitty...everything. He slipped his headphones on, ready to mute the rest of the world and stop anyone from entering his.

Reiji (12:42 AM) : Iiiiiiiiiit’s dropped!!!!!

What, your balls, Ranmaru thought ruefully to himself, unconsciously clicking his tongue in annoyance. He moved his finger to swipe and mute him for … a week, maybe, from how shitty he was feeling right now, but Reiji was too fast. The link appeared, and Ranmaru hit it, if only to have something concrete to be annoyed with him for.

It was a preview for a new PV. That’s right. It was technically tomorrow already, the day this content was due, but this was still early. Reiji must have found a leak. Lucky he was such an otaku, Ranmaru never had to go hunting for sketchy files or talk with weirdos he knew he wouldn’t be able to level with outside of the crowd. There was a long windup before the music even started playing, the visuals building dramatic lighting and obscuring anything but their silhouettes, but there was the low fuzz of an amp before it all hit at once.

Ranmaru didn’t want to admit that his eyes darted right to that flash of turquoise as the lights came up in the PV, because it would mean that he might’ve smiled at just the sight of her. No, it had to be the sound. That clean, driving guitar, that strong bass, it felt like Deep Purple and Iron Maiden, but pushed to be danceable and idol-friendly with synth and a digital drumkit beat Ranmaru could vaguely recognize parts of.

His toe and face didn’t stop hurting and body didn’t stop aching, but he stopped feeling so mad about it for the minute he watched and listened. There was professional polish there he’d missed seeing at the shitshow that was tonight’s gig, but there was still that rawness there of a good, irreplaceable concert. Something less precise than other idol groups’ practiced, saccharine perfection, but Ranmaru found it more welcoming than any other group he’d seen or worked with.

The camera cut to a focus shot. Her hair was as bright as ever, styled like she were one of those princely girls from anime, just somehow made real, and she turned to look right at him--

Reiji (12:44 AM) : Ranran~~ how are you liking your girlfriend in this one :3c

Ranmaru actually growled a little. He only realized he had been smiling because of how intensely he frowned at that bastard, barging into his texts --

Ranmaru (12:44 AM): shut the fuck up and let me watch it. don’t call her that

Reiji (12:44 AM): Isn’t she doing all the things you like???

Reiji (12:45 AM): So handsome! So rock! So passionate!

Reiji (12:45 AM): Feels tailor made for you ;o

Ranmaru (12:45 AM): I told you to shut the fuck up. go text natsuki if you have to annoy someone

Reiji (12:46 AM): Aww Ranran did the show go bad? :(

Reiji (12:46 AM): But I already did, you know! And I’ve already gotten twice as many sparkly sticker replies than texts you’ve sent me in the past week!!!

(He had to admit he laughed a little at that. Reiji was probably getting another onslaught as he was typing, his own push notifications as clogged as he was making Ranmaru’s.)

Ranmaru (12:47 AM): I’m muting notifs since you won’t learn how to fucking shut up

Reiji (12:47 AM): ohhhh she’s getting ranran’s full attention~! You must really like this preview, huh? I guess it’s true love

Ranmaru (12:48 AM): WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY

Reiji (12:48 AM): You’re right, I should, I should be listening for wedding bells!

Ranmaru (12:48 AM): go make out with your gacha girlfriend body pillow and leave me alone

Ranmaru (12:49 AM): hypocrite

He finally muted all his notifications. An hour should be enough to ride it out, he thought as he settled a little into the hard plastic of the seat, restarting the video. The anger from the past couple hours melted away as he watched, uninterrupted, and replayed it with eyes closed as the sound flowed in through his headphones and released the tension in his body bit by bit.

---

The hour ran out when Ranmaru was squatting over an especially runty kitten, eating noisily while the others watched from a couple feet away. Why stray cats could understand him better than anyone else when he said to piss off, he’d never know. He swiped around to turn his notifications back off for the rest of the night before pocketing his phone again.

“...Oi. Slow down.” He pulled the plate of food away from the kitten. It shook with hiccups as it watched carefully, almost fearfully, before it pounced back onto the food, gobbling it down like it was going to be its last meal. Ranmaru sighed but couldn’t blame the little thing. He dumped out the last of the food, gave the rest of the cats one last look as he stood up to walk away, and he heard the frenzied scratch of their claws against the pavement as they swarmed the plates of food.

Maybe it wasn’t so much they understood him as he understood them. To hunger like that, both literally and for something less physical but just as carnal.

He plugged his headphones back in, listening to the leaked preview a few more times on his way back to the apartment.

He liked this group to begin with mostly because of her. She dressed, talked, and acted more like someone from a band than an idol, and something about that felt weirdly familiar and good. The rest of the group were more unique than a lot of other idols -- you’d expect that from a unit made up of a pack of ragtag international recruits, sure, but it was refreshing how they’d made everything about their presence wholly their own.

Hers just made the most sense to him. The brashness, the way she talked about music, the way she performed, it all felt like someone who was chasing and understood the same things he did. She even said her music was about giving people power in an interview Reiji’d dug up for him.

“Beyond language, or the way words reach people,” she’d said in decent but definitely non-native Japanese; she’d grown up some in Okinawa while her family lived on the military base, but mostly shuttled between America and Bangkok before getting recruited by chance here. “I want to give everyone a home that makes them feel strong through my music.”

He wondered, dimly, as he took a hot shower and stared down at his swollen red toe, if he felt drawn to the group because he wanted that for himself, or because it reminded him why he kept picking up jobs that made him as angry as tonight’s did.

He went to bed that night with an ice pack balanced on his swollen eye, the frustration more or less passed as he listened to the classic bands that new song reminded him of.

---

He woke up to his phone buzzing, the hold on push notifications finally expired, and he murmured in bewilderment at just how many there were. Not just from Reiji, but Natsuki, too.

Rather than try and parse whatever the hell happened while he was asleep, Ranmaru just went into the group chat well after he’d gotten himself breakfast.

Ranmaru (9:28 AM): what the hell happened last night that you had to blow up my phone

Natsuki (9:30 AM): Maru-chan-senpai! Ah! You’re alive!!!!

Ranmaru (9:31 AM): I just went to bed is all

(“Why the hell are you calling me ‘senpai’?” Ranmaru had asked him, and Natsuki had looked at him with those big dopey eyes and earnestly said since he’d been a fan longer, he was naturally Natsuki’s senpai, and any protest Ranmaru made never stuck.)

Reiji supplied a link without any fanfare, introduction, or goofy dramatics, which almost startled Ranmaru.

Notice (posted by Ootori Eiichi x/xx/xx):

We are currently seeking an emergency replacement sound/stage technician for performances at the following dates and locations. Inquire immediately. [PAID]

Ranmaru stared at the listing, barely processing the lurch in his stomach that came from just reading it. It was for them. That act. The debut mini-tour for that new single. It’d take rearranging his sound editing queue and massaging some deadlines, but he could feasibly make all of those dates and times.

He thought for a moment of doing that sound check, and seeing for himself the electric energy of that live. Of working with that group whose respect for their audience he personally felt, of watching her prepare, having to talk directly to her as she tuned her guitar....

There was the very real possibility that it’d prove everything he believed about them - about her, really, that ethos he was drawn to - was just smoke and mirrors, too.

Natsuki (9:35 AM): Can you do it, Maru-chan-senpai?

Reiji (9:36 AM): Ranran, you have to do it.

Ranmaru (9:36 AM): this is just a listing, just because I ask doesn’t mean it’ll go through

There was a long pause, where everyone went on and off typing, never actually saying anything, and he frowned.

Ranmaru (9:40 AM): can you all just fucking say what you’re thinking already

Natsuki (9:42 AM): You really love their magic and energy, I just wanted to say I hope you do it and get it because your heart wants it!

Reiji (9:45 AM): Yes, Nacchan, you said it! Ranran, I’ll give you all the free bento you need to keep your tummy full to go do this!

Ranmaru (9:45 AM): don’t fucking do that, reiji, you’ll just piss of your sister. I’ll buy them myself

Ranmaru (9:45 AM): assuming I even do this

Reiji (9:46 AM): I really think you should.

Reiji (9:46 AM): Not because we want the insider scoop. But because when’s the last time you had fun at a live you worked?

Ranmaru could curse Reiji where he stood. Whenever he stopped fucking around and got to his point, it was always a good one.

---

He got the job, somehow, after a little emailing back-and-forth and negotiating the contract. Now he was on a train to Yokohama for the first gig, his case packed full, his backpack stuffed with supplies for a week. Comping travel, hotel, and meals was enough to take the job, even if it paid like ass, but it didn’t. The contract was actually pretty decent. They -- or, well, at least that Ootori guy -- were upfront that he’d be worked hard, the hours were going to be long, and there wasn’t going to be much room for rest or leisure. But the pay was good. Enough that if he had a dryspell of jobs afterwards, he’d be okay for longer than usual.

It was worth it for other reasons, though, he thought to himself, stuffing spare merch he’d gotten in blindbags (and a couple other last-minute buys he didn’t tell the others about) into a bottom corner of his suitcase. None of it was of her, none of it for him. Something felt unprofessional spending this job acting like a fan, but at least there wasn’t any harm grabbing some signatures for friends who never made it to meet-and-greets.

The single was out properly, now, and so was the PV. There was a section of it he especially liked and had gotten into the habit of watching on train rides, where she broke out of the dance routine to put her arms around her teammates, grin a dumb grin, and kick her legs high. It cut to a different shot of the group in different costumes but perfect sync, and when it cut back to that first shot, she stumbled and fell right on her ass, dragging the others down with her. Still grinning stupidly, and singing through it all.

She didn’t take many vocal solos. She only had one line in this song to herself, and she was singing with the whole group for this shot. He read in an interview she wasn’t happy with the tone quality of her voice yet -- it needed to be richer, and she still needed plenty of training before it reached what her teammates and audience deserved.

Ranmaru told himself, as the train was minutes away from the station, that this had to be the last time he watched this video and listened to the song like this. At least for the duration of this job. Every time he watched that shot, as she kept singing and the rest of the group tumbled down with her with the same dumb grin she wore, he knew in his gut the voice she sang in must’ve sounded like the soul of rock. Even if that gesture were directed and performed, there was still something genuine there that reminded him of those moments at concerts that convinced him to walk the path he did.

Maybe he’d get to see it live. Maybe he wouldn’t. But he had to stop imagining it. She - this whole group, rather - was about to become real, and whether or not everything he imagined would turn out to just be something he made up to deal with his shit, he had a job to do.

------------------------------------

He had a chance to leave his clothes and belongings in the hotel before heading to the live house. Ranmaru was unsure why this Ootori guy had picked him. He didn’t have an exactly long resume with idol shows, but then again, this was a group that debuted without any typical idol sound. There wasn’t any gimmick to them (Ranmaru wouldn’t call being made up of foreigners much of a gimmick when it came to the music), and they weren’t afraid of reaching into all sorts of genres he more typically worked with.

Right as he got to the live house, his phone rumbled with back-to-back notifications.

Reiji (5:48 PM): Ranran~!!! Ganbarimachochho from us!

Ranmaru wouldn’t deign the attached selfie with a response right now (he was about to work, after all), but he felt himself suppressing a smile. Reiji was sticking his tongue out and making a victory sign, Natsuki further in the background, half-buried in stuffed animals and doing the same. They were going to be streaming the event for special-tier fanclub members like REIJI, which Ranmaru had always harangued him for. If he was a fan, wasn’t it enough to just cheer their hearts out live, enjoy their music, buy a CD and shirt, and feel the energy they had to give that way?

(He still pored over the behind-the-scenes and advance material Reiji forwarded to him and Natsuki regardless. Sometimes he translated the English from their social media accounts, even. It was satisfying, as stupid as it felt sometimes, to do those little things in between the real shows.)

He’d never been to the live house before, but it had the same vibes as so many others he’d been to. He found the back entrance effortlessly, where a man with glasses almost took him by surprise.

“Kurosaki?” he asked. His gaze felt just as intense as all the other communication they’d had over e-mail.

“Ootori,” he grunted back.

“You’re early,” Eiichi replied, grinning at Ranmaru. Not that it surprised him in the slightest, but it made him look less approachable and instead even more intense. “Good. I like that in a recruit.”

Ranmaru gritted his teeth quietly. This guy was going to be an absolute bastard, he could feel it, but at least he seemed like he knew how to run a show. “Don’t say that like I joined your agency. Tell me where the group’s at with setup, and I’ll get started.”

Eiichi’s eyes glinted from behind his glasses. He looked too satisfied with himself for Ranmaru’s taste. “I liked how you didn’t beat around the bush when you reached out for the job, and it’s good to see you hold to it. They’re rehearsing in the space, but we still have equipment to unload and cues to sync. You read the notes I sent you, I trust.”

“All forty fuckin’ pages of it.” Ranmaru left out that he’d actually found it pretty impressive, appreciating the thoroughness and ambition of the show for a smaller group and venue. “Are we going to stand around shooting the shit or are we going to get started working on them?”

Eiichi laughed at that. Ranmaru wasn’t sure if it pissed him off or made him feel eager to get to work.

“This way,” he said, showing him to a van stuffed full of equipment.

------

Ranmaru went straight to the live house staff to start doing his work. The master controls were kept in a little room that overlooked the stage. His gut flipped when he first saw them all, rehearsing some specific-looking choreography that needed to adjust to a new stage. He wasn’t about to let that interrupt work. This was just like any other job, except he liked the performers a whole lot more, and things progressed like any other job. Until she looked dead at him from the stage, calling out.

“Heeeeey,” she said. “Scuse me, are you the new tech guy?”

“Yeah.” Ranmaru forced the feeling rising in his throat back down (as much as he could with sheer willpower, anyway). “Whaddya want?”

“I just wanted to ask your name! We gotta call you something!”

“Ranmaru,” he answered, hoping dearly that whatever he felt burning on his face was hidden by the dim lighting.

“Cool, OK. Ranmaru-san,” she continued cheerfully. Ranmaru felt his chest tighten as he heard his name on her lips. “Are we queued up enough that we can do this number with music?”

“This is the one for the new single, right,” he called back. He took a look at the levels, gain, and so forth as they were and instinctively nudged the knobs where the countless plays of that new song told him to. He’d imagined the vision of its stage presence for weeks. “I’m gonna test out some different settings for the levels ‘n stuff while you do that.”

She made an expression of surprise as it came on. Delight, even, as she rode out into the following beats. Ranmaru couldn’t help crooking into his own smile, satisfied his know-how just helped that vision become a little bit brighter. She flashed him a thumbs up, then a gesture to pause, still grinning.

“Can we take it from the top? Five, six, seven, eight---”

--------

Ranmaru had never felt this sort of contradiction. She was restringing her acoustic guitar, from steel to nylon strings, as she hummed and practiced segments of songs, and Ranmaru was adjusting amplifiers and other equipment on the stage nearby. His head swam with the thought and excitement they were sharing the same stage, even just as a tech and pre-show performer, but approaching her felt like being both sides of a magnet at once.

But that push and pull gave way, eventually, as the guitar finished being re-strung and tuned, and the humming turned into full-on singing. Ranmaru fought desperately to make sure he wasn’t just confirming what he’d already imagined, to just appreciate her live voice on its own merits and flaws. But he could feel in his chest that that character, that quality he’d responded so much to was there, that even with some lacking technical skill, there was still a rich tone color you could only get with passion and the spirit for rock.

“You doing any solos tonight?” he asked in English.

“Hm?” She looked caught by surprise.

Ranmaru answered, already anticipating the question. “I’m half-American. I speak it fluently enough.”

“Well, shit,” she said with a grin. “That’s convenient for us. I mean, I don’t mind Japanese if it’s easier…”

“‘Sfine. Do what you want. I won’t complain about the practice, though.”

She chuckled. “Man, maybe losing our usual guy from the agency was a stroke of good luck.”

Ranmaru laughed challengingly. “Say that after the show goes well. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Oh, uh. Right. Not really? Why do you ask?”

“Why not?”

She took a moment and laughed brightly in reply. Ranmaru could practically hear the insecurity she was covering up.

“‘Cuz we’re an idol group.”

Ranmaru gestured and murmured in vague acknowledgement. “You still have less solo lines than everyone else.”

“Oh, do I,” she replied flatly, going back to her guitar, trimming overhanging strings. “I guess you would know, now that you’ve gotta manage all our sound.”

“I just think it’s stupid you’ve clearly got your own voice but can’t think of sharing it without hiding behind everyone else’s.”

She looked up at him incredulously. “Ranmaru-san, right?”

“...Just call me Ranmaru.”

“Alright, Ranmaru.” She looked at him again. Somehow when she looked at him dead-on this time, nothing went to mush inside of him. “Don’t fucking talk to me like our group voice isn’t the backbone of everything we’re trying to do.”

“Nothing’s wrong with your group voice,” he shot back, getting heated. “It’s good. I can feel the soul behind it all, even when you’re rehearsing.”

“So why are you fucking complaining?” She was still smiling, laying cheer and energy over her growing frustration. “Is there something you wanna say to me about my crew’s voices?”

“They’re fine!” he barked back, frustrated she wasn’t getting his point. “This isn’t about them! You have something your audience is gonna be lit on fire hearing more of, that’s all!”

Some eyes were starting to fall on them, but Ranmaru could barely notice them over the way her chest rose sharply and her expression became inscrutible.

“...how about,” she said, speaking slowly as she deliberately, diplomatically pulled out her words, switching back to Japanese. “You save any notes you have for after the show.”

“......Sure.” His stomach flipped again, more intensely and more painfully than the last few times. He went back to fussing with the amp, and she laid the pliers she’d trimmed her strings with on it before heading backstage until the show started.

---

The show was electric. Ranmaru couldn’t say he was the right audience for most idol groups -- not so much out of distaste as much as incompatibility, he guessed. The way Reiji and Natsuki would lose their minds over their favorites’ cheerful cuteness or the kindness in their voices, Ranmaru wouldn’t. The fanatical, cult-of-personality devotion some other idols could curate with otaku-types, he didn’t connect with, either. What spoke to him was passion, backed by steely sounds and the sweat behind them; the excitement and fervor of rock and a crowd stinking of sweat; how well you could make someone scream themselves hoarse for that one, shining moment without any care for how sore they’d feel the next morning.

Maybe it was the adrenaline from earlier, but when he could look away from the tech, he felt that here, too. There was no drum or bass player onstage, but he could still feel the beat thrum through his chest and rumble through his bones until his breath quickened, like he were jumping and dancing with the crowd. There was joy in their teamwork. In how they shaped their bodies together in song and in voice, and pushing and pulling the spotlight until it was something brighter, something shared and tangible between them and the audience.

His eyes fell on her. What should he call her? She had a stage name in Thai, but she was open that wasn’t her given name or anything friends and family called her. “Aroon” was just something she picked so she could wear her heritage proudly. It meant ‘dawn,’ it sounded cooler, more idol-ish than her Western name, which wasn’t a secret, by any means, but he heard her called by so many versions of it, none felt real.

It only felt so weird because seeing her onstage, he felt far beyond any confirmation bias he could’ve had that the person he’d seen in the PV’s was every bit as real as he’d hoped. He saw someone who didn’t just fit on stage, but relished and grew like a plant in the hot lights burning down on them. There was something so honest about how she hyped the crowd, leaned so forward she seemed like she might leap into a crowdwalk, pointing at her ear until the whole crowd bellowed in their own guttoral harmony. And she smiled so much at her crewmates -- Ranmaru realized he was smiling, too, while she played guitar and accompanied the others’ solos, only breaking from her deep sway with the music to look at them with brightness and joy in her eyes.

In those moments, Ranmaru understood something he hadn’t before, but it also made him realize that the hunger in him wasn’t being sated so much as it was deepening.

They got cheered back on for an encore. And towards the end of that last song, Ranmaru watched as she broke choreography to literally lift the one Natsuki was convinced was a fairy, spinning them around as the practiced moves dissolved into joyful chaos. The whole group ended the song arm in arm, sloppily holding mics for each other as they alternately laughed, belted, fumbled, and shouted thank-yous into the audience.

Ranmaru still felt something tug at him as the mic got held in front of her, she grabbed it, and handed it to someone else. Just sing, damn it, he thought to himself. It didn’t matter if it was perfect, it just mattered that it was hers.

Didn’t she realize she deserved to be adored the same way she wanted the rest of her group to be?

Ranmaru cut everything as they filtered offstage, staggering and softening the mics as they put them back and let them go. He took a deep, sighing breath in and out, almost like he’d been holding it for the entire concert, as his stomach growled.

Maybe he should’ve taken some more of Reiji’s bento, after all, and give Natsuki’s cookies another try.

--------

They closed up quickly. With the group no longer bound by rehearsal, takedown went faster than ever, and there wasn’t any meet-and-greet at today’s venue. Ranmaru dimly considered looking at the merch table, but he had a week to do that and had other things to finish with today’s closeup, anyway.

He could hear the group discussing amongst themselves in English about where to go for a late dinner celebrating a good show.

“I want chicken,” she pleaded. “Is there one of those Taiwanese shops where you can get boba and chicken around here? You know, the kind that comes in a little bag and a toothpick?”

Eiichi approached them, and she started to repeat herself in Japanese before he asked to interrupt her.

“We’re all headed to the izakaya two blocks from here,” he announced to everyone. “I’ve already called ahead to reserve the space. Consider it a reward for a triumph of the first show on tour.”

“But is there chicken,” she repeated in Japanese in mock desperation as she mussed her own hair, fussing it out of the careful styling she’d had it in for hours.

Ranmaru’s phone buzzed from the notifications he missed, shutting them off for the duration of the show. Mostly from Natsuki and Reiji. He scrolled through the groupchat as they reacted live to the stream and tried to compliment Ranmaru on managing sound so well, though he was sure it couldn’t have possibly made much of a difference for the stream.

Ranmaru (11:37 PM): it was a killer show, wasn’t it

Ranmaru (11:37 PM): they’re talking about craving chicken right now. Guess it’s too bad we don’t have a kotobuki bento branch around here.

Ranmaru (11:38 PM): i could go for a kara-age bento

Reiji (11:38 PM): Ranran….!

Natsuki (11:39 PM): Waaaah~! I hope you find some kara-age soon and share it with your shining star!

Ranmaru immediately locked the phone after that. His stomach somersaulted once more time. He stood by what he said to her earlier, but he couldn’t imagine she’d want to talk after the way things had gone. Better to leave the group to that postshow glow, feed himself, and head back to the hotel.

---------

The room was swimming just a little. Ranmaru blearly looked at his phone, trying to ignore the fact that he’d drank beyond his limit like an idiot. He knew he was like this, so why did he keep downing beer after beer? He’d gotten too used to needing as much as he could stomach to tolerate Reiji’s antics (and, he knew dimly, he was just too used to being able to rely on him once he’d hit his limit).

She was seated right across from him, because of course she was, but they didn’t exchange any words or even eye contact. She was entirely focused on the rest of the group and the meal itself, laughing loudly between boisterous stories and jokes and devouring whatever snacks she ordered.

Ranmaru got up. He could make it back to the hotel by himself, probably. Nobody asked as he left, which was how he’d preferred things, right?

If there was such thing as taking a desolate wizz, maybe this is what it felt like, he thought to himself as he dried his hands on his shirt and left the restroom to step outside. Just for a moment. Just to get some air.

Eiichi followed him out.

“Can I help you,” Ranmaru said roughly after Eiichi caught the door behind him.

“Hardly.” He had the same look in his eye as before. “I thought I’d take the opportunity to say well done.”

Ranmaru grunted. “You still have six more shows with me. Compliment me when I’ve nailed all of them.”

“Hm. I’d certainly expect no less. But,” he continued, that grin going places Ranmaru especially didn’t like. “I can’t say that was what I was referring to.”

Ranmaru looked at him suspiciously.

“She’s been a tough nut to crack,” he continued. “I’m glad my instincts were right, Ranmaru Kurosaki, your brusqueness and deep experience with music laid her heart bare enough she recognized some changes she needed to make.”

He didn’t think, and only saw red -- he couldn’t blame the alcohol entirely, but the haziness was enough that his brain needed a moment to catch up to his gut reaction.

Eiichi laughed, unfazed by Ranmaru’s hands on his collar or snarling expression.

“Bastard!” he barked. Eiichi’s eyes glinted behind his glasses.

“I heard your little conversation. Do you not stand by those words?”

“Of course I do,” Ranmaru snapped.

“They reached her,” Eiichi cut in before Ranmaru could think of what to say next. “She’s already asking me about extra vocal training before the next recording sessions.”

“She doesn’t need more training!” He threw Eiichi back, finally letting go. He barely needed any effort to recover, and Ranmaru just glared at him as he kept raising his voice. “And I’m not your for-hire music coach! Is this how you treat all your contractors, you rat bastard of a producer?!”

He just laughed that laugh of his, making Ranmaru even angrier. “Your passion for music and straightforwardness was evident, even in your initial inquiry. It was just excellent luck your technical skills were just as useful for sending this idol group hurtling towards their fullest potential.”

“If you want her to reach it, you’d tell her she doesn’t need any extra lessons. You’d just tell her she’s a great goddamn idol the way she is right now,” Ranmaru spat. “Trusting her voice is just what’ll make her into a better one.”

“I hear some selfish intent in that, Kurosaki.” Eiichi looked like he was burning with excitement. “But that just means I can trust your intentions more than anyone. You speak as someone whose heart’s already been moved. A fan...a loyal follower who desires their success. Perhaps even more than she does.”

“I’m going back to the hotel.” Ranmaru strode past him, feeling himself burn from top to bottom. He gave Eiichi one last look in the eye. “If you need me before the show tomorrow, find someone else.”

-------

The next day and next show went uneventfully. Now that he’d met the group at Yokohama, he was travelling with them in the cars and equipment vans, and he made a point of finding a back seat nobody wanted to share, stretching out, and napping the whole ride. The setup at the next live house was a pain in the ass with their unusual devices and systems, but Ranmaru was quietly grateful to have his hands full. He liked having a good reason for not wanting to talk to (scold) anyone but the live house staff itself. Being irritated they went for weird, cheap models with lower quality helped him double down on the attention needed to make the group shine. They collectively got ramen afterwards. The only words he exchanged all meal were with the one Reiji liked so much, ferrying his ramen order for him when he got frustrated with the shop crowd and left to go wait outside.

(He’d have to find a way to talk with her later about Reiji. Not just for the autograph -- he opened up his phone, ignoring any notifications that weren’t his work email, and messaged him.

Ranmaru (9:42 PM): send me a pic of your Mae shrine

Reiji (9:45 PM): ehh? Ranran, what for?

Ranmaru (9:50 PM): just send it

Dutifully, Reiji did. Ranmaru couldn’t have imagined he really had no idea what he planned to do with it, but if he wasn’t just playing dumb, at least he’d be getting one hell of a surprise.)

It was during the third show that things started to happen a way he could scarcely believe. The show went pretty normally, except for one point where she stumbled badly enough during a complex turn she completely ate shit. But she played it off into something hammy and funny, rolling out of the way of the others, lying like she were posing in a cheesy beefcake calendar while she found the beat again to sing.

Ranmaru still thought she needed to own up to her lack of courage and just sing more, but putting it like she was a coward was a mistake. He thought dimly to what Reiji had said that had convinced him -- “when was the last time you had fun working a stage like this?” And he wondered if he’d ever had fun onstage like he saw. He might’ve tasted the glory and passion of the stage, the delicious energy of the audience, and the power of rock -- he knew he did, he’d looked an easier, blander life in the eye and felt too desolate to walk that path, even with his inescapable debt.

But it could be more fun. That audience could feel more, even more connected, that he could smile through mistakes when the performance came from camaraderie as much as passion and soul. Things could be better when they were shared beyond just the respect of an audience and a performer.

He didn’t realize he was smiling as much as he was until his cheeks were hurting, but that was also because he felt hungrier than he’d ever been.

----

He couldn’t help calculating how many meals he’d be cutting into as the convenience store clerk rang up everything, even though he’d already gotten Eiichi to confirm he was going to expense him the bill and get refunded every cent.

The show closed late. They had a special meet-and-greet he didn’t need to be around to handle, but none of them had had the chance to eat much outside of some spare snacks. He figured something fast and easy before they could collapse in the hotel would fit the bill.

She wasn’t there when he went around knocking on the hotel room doors and delivering the goods. Gone out to relax on the roof, they said, and when they offered to hold her food, he said no, he’d take it right to her.

The sound of the roof door opening looked like it startled her, and he didn’t know what else to do but hold up the bag full of food like a peace offering.

“Eat something,” he said in English, tossing her a banana from the bag. She caught it before eyeing him up and down, then settled back to the outdoor lounge chair she’d been resting on. Ranmaru took a seat in the one across for her, setting the bag on the ground as he pulled the rest of the food out. She looked hesitant, only speaking until he’d laid everything out, even the drinks.

“...That smells good,” she said in Japanese. “What’s that, kara-age?”

“I heard you guys were craving chicken.”

“I mean, I sure was. Thanks.”

“I told you English was fine,” he said, back to Japanese.

“My Japanese is fine,” she said, tearing into the banana first.

“Yeah, but if you’re tired of speaking outside of your native tongue,” Ranmaru started, already feeling himself get heated. “Why wouldn’t you take the chance to just rest?”

She finished her bite of banana before giving him a look. “...If you insist.”

They just sat in silence as she ate for a bit.

“Is there something else you want from me?” she asked. She left half the kara-age and bottled tea.

“...No, not really. I wanted to say sorry for the other day, though.”

“Ah.” She smiled knowingly, though she didn’t look happy about it. “Don’t worry about it. It sure isn’t the first or last time I’m gonna be criticized in this industry. I can handle it.”

Ranmaru murmured in acknowledgement, not sure to what end making himself clear to would earn, but he had to, anyways. He stared down the half-full kara-age container.

“...This is your goddamn food, you know.” He pushed it closer to her. “Eat it.”

“Oh, you’re sure?”

“I didn’t have a meet-and-greet that made me miss dinner. Do you really wanna work a tour on an empty stomach?”

She scooped it up with a knowing ‘hmm’ and a half-smile. After polishing it off, she let out a heavy sigh.

“You are right, though. I’m being a coward, not singing more.”

“You’re not,” Ranmaru grumbled.

“Sure,” she said dismissively. “But I guess I should apologize for getting so defensive. I thought you were just another macho shithead trying to talk the piss out of our group and the voice we have.”

“That’s nothing to apologize for,” Ranmaru said resolutely. “....when I was in a band, I wish I’d had bandmates who’d do that kinda shit for me.”

“Oh, shit, what’d you play?”

“Vocals. Bass. Rock.”

“Aw, c’mon, get more specific than that. Surf rock? Indie boy shoegaze? Folk punk with a little dash of polka?”

Ranmaru gave her an incredulous look. “...Oi. Do I look like a polka guy?”

She grinned widely, looking very satisfied with herself. “I dunno, you never know who’s got a secret accordion! I could see you, maybe you painted half of it, like, red to match that edgelord RPG hero heterochromia thing you got going.”

Ranmaru grumbled, looking away. She laughed. “....I just like rock. If you had to pull my leg I guess I’d tell you hard rock. Maybe a little alt and prog.”

“Ooh!” She exclaimed, barely letting the sip of tea get down her throat. “That’s the good shit! Did you ever record anything?”

Ranmaru hesitated. “...Yeah, but nothing that anyone can listen to anymore.”

She seemed to understand without much more explanation. “...Well. You’re fucking good at the sound engineering side of things. Don’t tell management this -- or well, just don’t quote me on this -- but I like you a hell of a lot more than the guy we were supposed to have from the agency. He doesn’t know shit about how to make music that’s about soul and hype. It’s like, all one level the whole time, you know? Like it’s just sitting at an 8 the whole time, we don’t really get to do stuff like crescendos. Or like, punch someone in the dick by taking it from a three and shoot it to an eleven, you know?”

“Yeah,” Ranmaru said, throwing a hand up. “What’s with that shit? There’s a bunch of stupid clients I had who were like that. Just one kind of loud, the whole album or concert through. What’s the fucking point if you aren’t gonna make people hear something other than just fuckin’ loud?”

“Yeah! You get it!” she whooped, before she held her hand out for a fistbump.

It surprised Ranmaru enough that it took a moment to register. But he smiled a little and pounded it.

------

“Man-eating momma, steam-driven hammer

Sorts the men out from the boys--”

She slid her arm around his waist, and he nearly choked on his beer.

They were at Korean barbecue tonight, their own private room. The last meal, after the last concert, after the last meet-and-greet, after the last frantic merch sales. Ranmaru tried to buy himself a shirt, but instead was presented with a staff hoodie for the tour and a “one of everything” comp for the rest of the merch. They were now safely tucked with other goods he’d gotten signed for Reiji and Natsuki last night while everyone hung out in their big hotel suite. Hotel management made a mistake and upgraded the whole crew to their biggest room with extra cots to fit them all, and they spent the entire post show in a dizzying, joyful, communal haze. Ranmaru even told stories of the embarrassing depths of his groupchat’s devotion to the group and each of their favorites, and everyone took turns recording chaotic, personalized videos for Ranmaru to share later. They fell asleep at a truly stupid hour, and Ranmaru wondered if this is what having sleepovers as a kid felt like.

“Takes no messing, all-in wrestling

Is one of her pride and joys”

Ranmaru recognized the words as she pulled him closer, swaying after slamming her beer to the table. Maybe less the tune, since that was being yelled more than sung.

“She's a classy, flashy lassy

Imitation sapphire shine-- c’mon, dude, you know!” She looked at him expectantly. She was very, very flushed, and at this point, he had to be, too.

“We’re not at a karaoke bar!” he barked.

“Where’s all that ‘you gotta sing more, fuckass’ energy now, huh,” she said, lowering her voice so much to mimic that Ranmaru briefly questioned if this is what he sounded like to her.

“....Fine! If you’re gonna sing it, actually fuckin’ sing it, don’t just yell!”

“Oh yeah,” she said with what passed for a shit-eating grin with her. “Then show me, partyboy. Hey, everyone, meet my new vocal coach! Hold onto your dick, folks, he better fuckin floor you with all the shit he’s been talking --”

Ranmaru looked at her a moment as she kept ranting, first with incredulity, then with a weird surreal awe. What the hell was happening?

Why the hell should he bother questioning it?

“-- Two-faced liar, full of fire

But I know the flame is mine!” He cut off her rant, singing as much as he could like this were a stage.

She -- and a bunch of other staff at the table -- whooped and cheered and laughed, but she and only she joined in with him without a care in the world. “Rocka Rolla woman for a Rocka Rolla man

You can take her if you want her

If you think you can--”

He let the arm that’d been just awkwardly dangling behind her wrap around her shoulder. He felt warmer than he’d ever had, burning all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Rocka Rolla woman for a Rocka Rolla man

You can take her if you want her you can!”

They hung on the last note of the chorus -- she hung on comedically long before dragging them both up to bow while everyone else clapped, laughed, cheered. A server came, yelling that they had an order of grilled beef up. Eiichi, from the other end of the table, gestured that he’d ordered it, but passed it down until it sat in front of Ranmaru.

--------

They had an overnight bus trip to get back home -- or close enough to home, anyways, Ranmaru still had another long train ride waiting afterwards, so he’d planned to sleep the whole bus ride.

But she wound up sitting next to him, and even if he could pretend like that didn’t make his heart thump now by itself, she was chatty.

He didn’t mind the conversation, though. They mostly talked about music, sharing concert stories and albums. He even talked a little about what he wanted to do now in between all the freelance work, and when she wished him luck and couldn’t wait to hear it, he didn’t feel like she was just blowing smoke.

There came a pause while she downed a bottle of tea.

“...I meant it when I said there’s something in your voice the audience oughta hear,” he said, looking at her intently.

She laughed uncomfortably after she swallowed. “Thank you. I’ll…..I guess I just have to go for it, huh.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I...hm….” She paused in intent thought for a while. “Well, for one, the technical control isn’t there.”

“Yeah, but you’ll improve that by doing it.”

“Yeah, yeah. But there’s more than just that, I guess.”

“Like what.”

“...Well, you know how this industry is. It’s…hard. Finding the balance of what you’re good at, what people want, and what the higher-ups think they want. I don’t think I’m anywhere near figuring that balance out...”

“Forget all that.” Ranmaru looked at her very seriously, shifting in place so he could look her in the eye a little better. “Don’t worry about any of those things.”

She laughed disbelievingly. “Okay, sure, lemme just. Throw out my job description while I’m at it. Dude, the whole point of this job and this work is to make other people happy.”

“I was happy hearing your voice just as it was that first day. You just. Sang the way you wanted to. I liked that. It felt good. Genuine.” He took a moment to recall the words he found at the beginning of the tour. “...You like it when people connect with your group’s voice ‘n adore your groupmates. So let ‘em adore you some.”

“Oh, cuz I’m so adowable,” she joked, laughing as Ranmaru scowled.

“I mean it. I….” he started. “...The audience is going to be better for hearing more of you. Whatever that means.”

She thought about that for a moment. “...I...you know. I don’t think I’ve ever asked myself what that looks like. Or let myself realize it, anyway.”

“You can handle the criticism if it comes. If that’s something you’re scared of.”

“...Maybe it is. Thank you, Ranmaru, I’m going to think about that and kick everybody’s teeth in the next time we record.

“‘Snothing,” he murmured, but he felt like his heart was going to soar out of his chest, and later, as they both nodded off and slumped over each other as the road stretched on, he realized he felt sated in a way he couldn’t remember being. A weird sort, that took away the pang of hunger, but made him feel it more deeply through his whole being.

----

When he arrived ‘home,’ it was lunchtime, and he was too dazed, hungry, and tired to weather one last long walk home without some food in his stomach. It was on the way-- he may as well go to Kotobuki Bento and make Reiji make good on the free bento offer.

(His sister rang him up, and Ranmaru paid up.)

Reiji found him after the meal, and he wound up heading to Reiji’s room. To give him the merch, theoretically, but after Reiji earned enough grouchy monosyllabic replies, he brought something that sounded like an actual question.

“...So, Ranran, while you were away…”

“Just say it,” Ranmaru muttered, eyes too tired to focus. “I’m too fucking tired for you to take the long away around.”

“Nattsun’s friend wants to join our little fanclub!”

“....And.”

Reiji shrank a little, speaking more sheepishly. “The thing is...we mentioned you and....he’s pretty sure you two already know each other and you’d want nothing to do with him.”

Ranmaru hazily tried to recall who that could be. There were too many people whose guts he hated for him to figure it out by himself.

“Who is it,” Ranmaru growled tiredly. “Just fucking say it.”

“Does...Hijirikawa ring a bell?”

It did. Ranmaru fumed in silence for a moment, thinking about the whirlwind of disaster that name was attached to, but also the vague memories of that quiet, serious boy in traditional dress who fretted after him when they were too small to know of things like debts and bankruptcy...

“...Whatever,” Ranmaru muttered. He looked at Reiji’s bed and decided he wasn’t going to tolerate any more of this exhaustion -- he had a reliable neighbor to leave food out for the cats, anyway, what was a couple more hours? “It’s not really much of a fanclub if it’s just the three of us. He can join if he wants. It’ll give you ‘n Natsuki someone who’s better at responding to your crazy nightlong gushing than me.” He tossed the dakimakura on Reiji’s bed, dented in the middle from so much hugging, to him, before he shrugged closer into his staff tour hoodie and slumped into Reiji’s bed.

He could practically see Reiji stammering, even as he turned away and settled into the comfort of eyes closed and a real bed. Clearly, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and it wasn’t the one Ranmaru was expecting to give, either.

“-- R...Ranran, you really--”

“Yes! What the fuck wasn’t clear about what I said! Masato can join! Go add him already! Just let me sleep, you noisy bastard!” Ranmaru barked one last time at Reiji.

Ranmaru ignored whatever last jabbering Reiji had for him, already carried off to proper sleep. He wondered what he could possibly dream about that would rival the past week and this satisfying feeling, cradled in his new hoodie.

(I perform semi-professionally -- not as an idol, mind, but I’m still getting up on a stage/camera to entertain people on the reg -- and it was so weird but also really......doki-inspiring, let’s say, to imagine Ranmaru being a fan of my stage bravado :’’’’’D To be honest I’ve been feeling a little discouraged and burnt out by it lately but this really refilled my tanks!!!)

#iron maiden & rocka rolla #hints of #matchamocha #and #peach lemonade #scribblings #roleswap au #selfship #self insert #selfship fic

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