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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

Text

Aerosmith

Alright, y'all: here's that fic that I'm low key scared no one is going to read that has taken me a few months to write, a Trent x single mom!reader fic

It's a long one, with the Bruin's feral little fighty boy from St. Louis, around 13.3k words. The songs listed as the headers of each section are all by Aerosmith, each part partially inspired by the song (hence the name of the fic)

Shoutout to @toplinetommy for helping me with this the entire time and being my beta AND to @chara-hugs for letting me bounce ideas off of you and talking through what I was thinking of. Love you lots 💛

I hope people like this

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Just Push Play

Considering how much was happening around you at the bar your friends had dragged you to, the only thing that could keep your attention was your phone. It was the only thing, at this point, that you would allow to keep your attention. You had no desire to be there. Part of you wanted your phone to start buzzing, anything that would give you an excuse for you to leave, but the other part of you knew that something bad had to happen in order for you to leave. Every second that you stayed was costing you more money and less time being where you wanted to be.

“Hey, Y/N, put the phone away. This is your first night out in, like, years,” Molly tells you.

“Four years. Maybe five?” you guess.

“Six years, exactly,” she wrongly says, earning a disappointed head shake from you, a small ‘no’ escaping your lips that goes ignored as she takes your hand that’s holding the phone. “Can we please just enjoy tonight and have some fun? He’s going to be fine.”

You take in a deep breath, almost sure she was right about that. You hadn’t had a night to yourself in years, and Molly was also almost right that this was your first one in over four years. Actually, given the timeline, it was probably more like five. “But what if something happens?” you ask, the natural worry and constant fear you felt taking over your ability to just enjoy the night.

“If something, anything happens, you’ll be able to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and I will go home with you to take care of it,” she reassures you, playing around with the settings on your phone. She hands it back to you, pulling you up from the table you had yet to move from in the first place. “He’s fine. He always is. Why don’t you request a song?”

“Because you keep telling me you hate my music.”

“Well, that’s because you have the same music taste as your sixty-something-year-old father when you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman.”

“You don’t even know how old I am? We’re the same age.” Molly rolls her eyes at you, dragging you up to the line of people to request songs, a book sitting there with the songs you could request. “They’re not going to have anything I like,” you tell her as the line behind you gets longer.

“Don’t you listen to that one guy?” she starts.

“That could mean anything. Have I told you lately that you are the most unhelpful person I know?” you snap at her, trying to find anything in your Spotify that you could request as the line got shorter and shorter in front of you. “What about this song?” you ask, your finger hovering over someone from one of your Daily Mixes. Molly looks over your shoulder at your phone, shaking her head at your song choice, and every song choice that you suggested. “I’m just going back to the table, you’re being impossible.”

Before she can protest, you turn around and head back to your table, sitting off to the side away from the rest of your friends, your eyes glued to your phone. At this point, you were praying that you would get a message from Rachel asking you to come home, telling you that something was wrong. Even something as simple as she had to leave unexpectedly so you could, too. Anything so that you could leave sooner rather than later.

“Sorry, but you really couldn’t find a song in that book?” you hear a guy's voice, tearing you away from the screen. He sits down next to you, not too close that it was uncomfortable but just close enough that you could smell his cologne, covering the smell of beer that had been lingering in the air around you. “There was some Aerosmith in there, I have a feeling that’s the closest to something you’d enjoy,” he says, smiling at you.

He must have been in the group that was in line behind you, hearing your conversation with Molly. Regardless, you smile back at him, something about his own being so infectious that you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Well, you’re right, but it depends on what Aerosmith song,” you respond, a hint of flirting in your voice.

“Is there a bad one?”

“No, but there are some superior ones,” you tell him, his eyebrow cocked as a sign to get you to explain. “Sweet Emotion is great but not as good as their cover of Come Together. Dream On and I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing are easily, in my opinion, their best songs.”

“Is that up for debate?”

“Oh, you think their most popular songs aren’t their best?”

“I think the one that’s about to play is one of their best,” the guy says, both of you pausing as there’s a lull in the music, the chatter and screaming of the bar’s drunk patrons overtaking everything.

“Just Push Play?” you ask, a smile on your face. It wasn’t one of their most well-known songs, but you still had to admit it was an underrated one.

The boy shrugs, a smirk on his face. “I might have requested it so you’ll have a reason to dance with me,” he flirts, getting up and extending his hand for you to join him.

You hesitate, unsure if you should get up with this mystery man standing in front of you. There was something about him that you couldn’t figure out. He looked young, probably younger than you but looks can be deceiving, nevertheless telling you that there was some sort of innocence or naivety to him, but the obviously fit physique under his clothing telling you that he could and would break your heart in a moment if he had to, the time leading up to that would be like nothing you had experienced before. You didn’t have time or the energy to spend on something you knew would lead to heartbreak, but you felt like you wanted to, like you had to. “I’m not sure I can dance with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

“I’m Trent,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you away from the table. You introduce yourself as his hands snake their way around your waist, holding you close enough that you could feel his heart starting to race against your own chest as your hands met the skin at the back of his neck, your fingers grazing along the collar of the back of his shirt, the two of you not moving at all in sync with the faster beat of the song. Not that you cared. There was something about this boy you were talking to talk to over the music that made you completely disregard the movement around you, forgetting about your phone and what was waiting for you at home for the first time in nearly five years.

You danced for what felt like forever, for what you wanted to last forever, every song passing you by as he listed out song after song that he recognized, most of them country as he claimed he had a country playlist that went on for seven hours, all of them involving him trying to sing bits and pieces of the lyrics off-key, every time pulling a laugh from you.

“I don’t know what I like more,” he starts, resting his forehead against yours as the space between the two of you disappeared, “the music they’re playing or your laugh.”

You roll your eyes, a smile on your face as the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Those lines usually don’t work on me.”

“But?” he asks, his lips ghosting yours.

“But from you, they do,” you tell him, planting your lips on his before he has the chance to say anything else. You didn’t know what it was about Trent; you were never the one to make the first move, you barely interacted with guys at this point since your life was permanently hectic. But Trent was something else. You don’t know what Trent was, you just knew he was different.

His hands were on your back, finding their way to your waist, his grip tightening when you feel someone tap your shoulder. You pull away, a pout on Trent’s face as you turn around to see Molly, waving your phone in your face. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh, shoot!” you squeal, taking your phone. “I’m sorry, I have to get home.”

A confused look covers Trent’s face. “Is your Uber going to turn into a pumpkin if you aren’t home, Cinderella?”

You laugh at his joke, going back to your table to grab your stuff. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, “But I really have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.”

You stop in your tracks as you were rushing out the door. You never brought a guy anywhere near your apartment, knowing that most of them would want to go in, most of them would want to sleep with you if you invited them, most of them would be gone by morning when they found out why you didn’t want them there in the first place. You don’t know why you knew Trent would be different. “No, you don’t have to,” you tell him, instead, even though you wish you could bring him home with you.

Before he can answer, someone calls out his name, pulling the two of you away from each other’s attention. “Trent, we’re leaving.”

Trent looks between you and his friend, the group of guys aggregating around him as they wait for his answer.

“You don’t have to,” you repeat, trying to get out the door because you had to.

“Jack, give me a minute,” Trent calls to his friends, “I want to,” he tells you, taking your arm, turning you towards him. The look in his eyes was sincere, begging you to let him walk you home. “Please?”

You let out a sigh, caving in even though you knew you shouldn’t. “Fine, yeah. Let’s go,” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him out of the bar, his friends left without an answer as they watched the two of you walk away.

Come Together

“I’ve had a really great night. Sorry about my friends, though” Trent apologizes to you again. He explained that he had gone out with them after their game that night, supposed to be spending their off-day tomorrow together, but Trent leaving with you had seemingly changed those plans. As the two of you walked and talked on the way back, his hand never left yours, from the time you left the bar to now standing outside your door. He pulls you in for another kiss, the worries of what was on the other side of the door melting away. You wanted to invite him in, but you weren’t sure if he would even want to once he found out.

Your door opens, Rachel stepping out. “Sorry, it’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” you tell her, Trent confused by the girl sneaking out of your apartment. “That was Rachel. She’s my babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

You could feel your face twisting involuntarily at his question. You knew you should have told him before you got home, it would have been easier leaving him at the bar than watching him walk away from you outside your door. Why did you even let him walk you home in the first place? Because he’s hot and you’re dumb, that’s why. “I have a four-year-old son. If you wanted to leave, I would understand. Most guys do when I tell them about Ben,” you spit out, not making eye contact with him. You weren’t ashamed of your son, you just knew people your age got weirded out and panicked at the thought of the responsibility that came with having a child.

He tilts your head up, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips, a lazy smile on his face. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to stay?”

“If you’ll have me,” he says, kissing you yet again. You bring him inside, showing him Ben’s room first. The two of you stand in the doorway, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lean against the door frame. You feel him kiss the back of your head as you watch Ben wriggle in his sheets before settling down, you taking Trent’s hand and leading him down to your room. You tell him that you don’t want to do anything because of Ben being so close, Trent giving you a sweet smile, kissing you before settling next to you in bed. You had no idea why, but it all felt so domestic, so right that he was there with you in that moment.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice pierces the silence that had fallen between you.

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you mention Ben before?”

You swallow hard. You weren’t ashamed of having Ben, something you found yourself repeating in your mind every time you told a guy about your son. He was the best part of your life. Everything you did was for him. “We’re young. Being a single mom at our age has such a stigma around it. When guys find out, they normally bolt. I didn’t want you to until the last possible second.” You turn to him, still able to make out his features in the dark, the pout that was forming on his face visible without anything lighting him up.

“You could have told me before we got here,” he says, pain in his voice as he reaches for your face, the pad of his thumb gently grazing over your cheek. “I don’t care if you have a kid. I mean, I do, Ben is part of who you are. But, I would have understood. I understand. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling someone about that part of you. What I know about you so far is pretty amazing, I can only imagine what Ben brings to the table.”

“That seems weirdly out of character for what I know about you,” you tease him, pulling a smile from him.

“Well, maybe, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, right?”

You kiss him, a feeling of relief washing over you at his words. The two of you spend the rest of the night telling each other about yourselves, keeping quiet for Ben, despite the amount of laughter you let you. You couldn’t remember the last time a guy made you feel so happy, falling asleep with a smile on your face, his arms wrapped around your waist as if that’s where they belonged.

You wake up the next morning, the sun shining into your room, but no Trent. You get out of bed, probably figuring that he had left in the middle of the night, trying to spare your feelings about you having a son. You understood. What guy really wants to get into a relationship with a single mom at this age?

You go to check on Ben, opening the door to his bedroom to find that he wasn’t in his room. You started to panic at the sight of his empty bed, unmade with his blankets in disarray. If Trent was gone, and Ben was gone, where could they be? He wouldn’t kidnap your son, would he? He was a professional athlete, that’s not something he would do, right? Your panic starts to recede when you hear laughter coming from the kitchen.

Trent is standing at the stove, spatula in hand with eggs cooking on the stove, a piece of bread held up to his face with holes bitten out of it where his eyes are, making Ben shriek with laughter. “Sorry. I heard him get up and I didn’t want to wake you, so I started making breakfast. Is that ok?”

You can’t help but smile, going over to Ben. “How’s he doing so far?”

“Mommy, look! French toast!” Ben says, pointing excitedly to the cut-up pieces of bread on his plate.

“French toast?” you repeat, your eyes wide to play along with his excitement. “Give me a bite,” you tell him, opening your mouth as he picks up a piece with his fingers, nearly missing your mouth. You hear Trent laugh, you not containing your own.

You go over to Trent, leaning into him as the two of you watch Ben eat the food Trent made. You feel him kiss the top of your head, his fingers dancing up and down along your arm. You look at his hand, a bandaid on the back of his hand. “What happened to you here?”

“Oh, oops,” he says, looking at his hand. “Got a little cut, but don’t worry, it’s not bad. Dr. Ben here fixed me right up,” he tells you, going over to Ben and ruffling his hair.

Trent hands you a plate of french toast and eggs, pouring you a cup of coffee, kissing you in front of Ben, who either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. No guy had ever stayed the night, let alone stayed and made breakfast for the two of you the next morning.

“So, what were you two talking about before I joined?” you ask, taking another bite of the French Toast. You already knew it was good from what Ben gave you, but you were still devouring it.

“Bears, boots, and battles of galaxias,” Ben lets out, his full mouth spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I’ve been trying to make sense of that all morning. I have no idea what he means. Why does that sound familiar?” Trent asks, sitting down next to you, his hand on your thigh under the table, sending a chill through your entire body as his fingers lazily traced an unknown pattern on your skin.

You take a sip of the coffee he had handed you, setting down your cup and putting your hand on top of his under the table. “He saw that one part of the Office, the identity theft cold opening, where Jim says, ‘Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica?’ That’s how he remembered it,” you explain, Trent looking over to your son who was fixated on the food in front of him.

“Benny,” Trent calls him, your entire body going numb hearing him call him the same nickname you used for your son, “do you like bears?”

“Bears are the coolest!” he squeals. Everything he saw with a bear on it, he would start begging you to buy him, your heart breaking from the look on his face when you had to tell him no, we don’t need the kitchen towel just because it has a bear on it.

“Can you do your best bear impression for Mom and I?” You felt your heart skip at the sound of Trent calling referring to you as just ‘Mom’ instead of ‘your mom,’ like he was already part of the family. You didn’t even hear Ben growling, his best attempt at being the ‘scary’ Baby Bear that he was just laughing along with Trent.

“Hey, buddy, what if I called you Benny Bear from now on? Do you like that?” Trent asks, Ben nodding excitedly at his nickname.

“You’re nice,” Ben says to Trent while he clears his plate, Ben running off to go play.

You look at Trent, not able to help how you were beaming at him getting along so well with your son. It was like he belonged there with you, and with Ben, making his presence that much better. “That means he likes you.”

“Not trying to pry,” Trent starts, standing beside you at the sink while you wash the dishes, “But how often does he like the guys you bring home?”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “I almost never bring guys home. And when I do, he generally doesn’t talk to them.”

“So he likes me,” he starts, getting closer to you as you nod your head. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the sink. “How about you?”

“That depends,” you flirt, stretching to turn the sink off before draping your arm on his shoulders, twirling his hair through your fingers at the nape of his neck, “do you like me?”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you in for a kiss. “I do.”

“I like you, too. Help me finish cleaning up and then we’ll go watch Ben, ok?”

The two of you wash dishes in silence, weirdly domestic and comfortable considering you knew this boy all of twelve hours. “Can I ask you something?” Trent breaks the silence, just as he did the night before.

“Sure.”

“Where’s Ben’s dad?” You take in a deep breath, knowing that this would have come up eventually. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he continues, a wash of panic over his face at the thought of asking something too personal too soon.

You shake your head, smiling at him to try to calm him down. “No, no, that’s fine. Um, we were together when we were in college, but we broke up. I started feeling like shit so I went to the doctor and she told me, ‘Congrats! You’re two months pregnant!’”

“Does he know about Ben?” Trent asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, he does. I told him when I found out because I knew Ben was his. I told him that I was going to keep the baby and since we weren’t together anymore, he had the choice of either being present and helping out or if he didn’t want the responsibility, then that was fine, too.”

He didn’t know what about the way you were talking was making him feel this way. A lump in his throat was forming looking at your eyes start to shine with the threat of tears while you refused to make eye contact with him. You rarely talked about Ben’s father, making the decision a long time ago that he wasn’t worth your time thinking about since he didn’t want much to do with his own son. “And he didn’t?”

“He sends a present to Ben on his birthdays and Christmas, but other than that nothing really. I’m not even sure if Ben’s made the connection between the presents and his father yet. Like I said, though, I gave him the choice.”

“Do you regret anything?”

“I could never regret Ben or anything with him. I almost regret giving his father the choice, though. Being a parent isn’t easy, even if you have someone to take up half the work, but it’s even harder when it’s just you by yourself, you know? And I’ve gotten help, but it would be different if Ben had his dad as a constant in his life. Ben’s only seen him a few times, anyway. He calls him Andy instead of dad, and it’s just,” you stop, trying to find the word, “heartbreaking seems too severe, seeing him not acknowledge his dad as his dad, but what can you do?”

Trent didn’t know what to say. He was practically still a child himself when you really look at him. He couldn’t imagine having his own at this point in his life, let alone raising one on his own. “I’m sorry,” is all he can get out, trying not to cry even though he could hear Ben’s laughter ringing from the other room, sending a weird sense of joy through him at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I would rather do this alone than do this with someone who didn’t want Ben to begin with. You can’t be a parent if you aren’t all in.”

He had no idea why, but he already felt so connected to Ben. There was no reason why, but he did. “I’m in.”

You turn back to him, shocked, confused, not even sure if you heard what he said properly. “What?”

“I’m in with you. With Ben. If you’ll let me. I want to see you again, keep seeing you. And that includes Ben. He already likes me, after all.” Trent was used to making snap decisions, on the ice, off the ice, wherever. He knew this was one, but this one felt like his best one.

“You don’t have to, you have your own life with hockey and everything,” you try to insist, cut off by Trent’s lips connecting with yours.

“I want to. Let’s go play with Ben.”

Angel

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask him for what was probably the millionth time, getting out of his car in front of the rink.

He runs around to get Ben out of his car seat, you grabbing the stuff he had stashed in the trunk. “Yes, I promise it is. The guys bring their kids all the time and they’re way younger than Ben.” He had invited you and Ben to the family skate the team was having, you reluctant to go since Ben had never been skating before. Naturally, you were worried he would get hurt, either by falling down or being curious about the skate and somehow cutting himself, something you were sure he would do if given the chance.

You two had been together for about a month, Ben falling head over heels for Trent, jumping up and down whenever he saw him on TV. Much to your dismay, Ben loved it when Trent was fighting, begging you to let him play hockey so he could fight just like Trent. You loved taking videos of his excitement despite that fear of him skating and fighting like Trent, sending them to him to see during the game, Trent always making sure to FaceTime you the next afternoon when you got home from work if you two couldn’t meet up so that he could talk to Ben. He was acting like the dad Ben never had.

And that was terrifying to you. The thought of you and Trent breaking up and him suddenly leaving Ben’s life was the reason why you never got close with a guy before. You didn’t want Ben to go through that. You didn’t want to go through that.

But there you were, sitting rinkside at the Garden as you tried to tie up the skates that Trent got for Ben, his feet swinging back and forth in excitement no matter how much you tried to get him to stop for a moment.

“Are you excited, Benny Bear?” Trent asks, picking him up and walking out to the ice.

“Yeah!” he says, squirming around and clearly ready to go.

You weren’t sure if you were more nervous about Ben being on the ice for the first time, Trent already showing him how to skate, or you formally meeting all his teammates for the first time, that night at the bar not really counting. The three of you step onto the ice, Ben in between you two, practically swinging in the air as you both held his hands while you skate.

“You’re nervous?” Trent asks, reading the expression on your face.

“They look like they didn’t know about Ben.” You saw the looks you were getting from the guys' families as you and Trent were skating around with Ben between you. You knew they were looks of confusion, but you couldn't help but think that they were the same looks when you went out with Ben in general, the societal disapproval of being a young mother, no ring on that finger to show that this was planned with another parent on the other side. People were judgemental; it was in their nature, but you were hoping Trent’s teammates were accepting like Trent had been.

“Um, I guess I didn’t tell them? I didn’t think I needed to,” he says, looking down at your son. Ben was beaming, not paying attention to what you two were talking about, not that he would probably understand it if he was. Trent didn’t think it would be a big deal to have your son around. The guys knew he was seeing you, but was it really that big a deal that you have Ben? He looks over at you, the scared look that was on your face worrying him. “We can just tell him he’s your nephew or your little brother?” he whispers so Ben doesn’t hear.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to want them to know he’s your son?”

You stop skating, pulling Trent over to the side while holding onto Ben’s hand as he begs to pull away and take a lap on his own, something you weren’t going to let him do. “I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben,” you hiss at him.

“I’m not saying that you are. I’m just saying if you’re scared of what people would think we could just tell them something else.”

You look at him for a moment, trying to properly process his words. “Am I scared of what people think, or are you?”

He steps back, careful not to fall on whoever's kid was zooming past him at that moment, Ben begging to go skate with him. “Hey, Zach,” he calls Patrice’s son over. “If he takes Ben is that ok?”

You knew you shouldn’t say yes, but you didn’t need Ben hearing this conversation, no matter how oblivious he might have been to begin with. “If you trust him, fine.”

“Zach,” Trent starts, crouching down to their level, his hands on Ben’s shoulders so he can’t skate away before he’s done, “Can you take care of my guy Ben here? Make sure he doesn’t fall? Go skate to your dad.” Zach and Ben practically rush off with each other to Zach’s dad, eager to skate around and surprisingly good for their age. “What do you mean I’m scared?”

“Who’s the one suggesting that we don’t tell your teammates that Ben is my son? We’ve been out together when people ask if he’s my brother, my nephew, if I’m his nanny, and every single time you’ve seen me correct them. I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben. And to come here and have everyone giving us looks because they’re trying to figure out who he is to you makes it seem like you are. You couldn’t even tell the guys you claim are like your family about Ben. He’s not old enough for that hurt, but I am.”

He looks down at the ice, shuffling back and forth on his skates. “I’m sorry.”

You move closer to him, tempted to reach out and hold him. He looked just as hurt as you felt, part of you glad that he was actually showing he was sympathetic instead of just saying it. “Are you ashamed of Ben?”

His head snaps to you, a look of disbelief on his face. He starts shaking his head, the curls on his head that were loose enough going wild with his movement. “I’m crazy about that kid. I know why you aren’t ashamed of him because I don’t think I could ever be.” Trent turns around to find Ben on the ice, skating around with the other kids, some of the guys playing a small game with them, Ben with his own little stick. He watches Ben score on whoever was playing goalie, Ben shrieking with joy. Trent couldn’t help but smile, turning to you. “He means more to me than I thought someone else's child could.”

“Then why didn’t you tell them about Ben?” you ask him.

He shrugs, sticking out his bottom lip. “Because I’m dumb.”

You can’t help but laugh, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close to you. “Well, I do call you a stupid muppet,” you joke, earning a groan from him, “Hey, I say it with affection and you did say I could call you that.”

He cups your face and kisses you, momentarily forgetting his teammates and their families around you. “We could go tell them now?” he suggests, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Do you want to?”

Trent starts skating over to the rest of the guys, Ben giggling and playing with the rest of the kids. The two of you start talking to his teammates, introducing yourself to Jack and Jeremy, keeping your eye on Ben while he plays as you wait for Trent to finally say something about him.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben’s voice tears you two away from the conversation. “I’m you!” he yells, using the stick to try to shoot the puck, instead missing the puck and falling down on the ice. He was trying to process what just happened, hopefully not meaning to do what he did.

You look at Trent’s face, his teammates laughing while his face turned red. Ben shoots back up and starts skating again, Trent beaming at him. “That was cold,” he says to you, a smile on his face anyway.

“You know he didn’t mean it,” you tell him, squeezing his bicep before skating over to your son. You lift him up off the ice, thankful that he was still small enough to do that as you kiss his cheek and skate around with just him for a bit.

Trent couldn’t take his eyes off you, his teammates doing everything they could to try to peel his attention away from you. He watched you interact with Ben, the same light in your eyes when he looked at your son.

“Dude?” Jack finally succeeds in bringing Trent back down to Earth, “is that her brother?”

Trent shakes his head, turning back to you. “Nope, that’s her son.”

“Son? What are you thinking?” Jack asked. He knew what he meant. Trent was young. You were young. Having a kid was something real adults did, not whatever definition of adult he fell under.

Trent shrugs, watching you and Ben laugh and smile as you skated around, talking with some of the guys' girlfriends as they coo over Ben. “I’ve been better since I started seeing her.”

“You were fine before you started seeing her,” one of them mumbles.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to them. “Come on. I was fine but I wasn’t great. All I did was punch a few guys and get a couple of secondary assists. Even Butch said something about my play last game. Everything in my life is better with Y/N in it. And Ben.”

He didn’t hear what the guys were saying, and honestly, he didn’t care either. He loved your son, probably not as much as you did, but he felt like he was getting there. He wanted to get there.

Because he loved you.

Dream On

“Where are you?” Molly's voice comes through your phone, panicked and irritated. “I thought you were coming in today?”

“What are you talking about? Today’s my day off.” You were at home, sitting on the couch with the tv playing in the background while Ben played with his toys in front of you. It was one of the rare days that you could spend from the time you woke up until you went to sleep with your son, and you had no real intention of changing those plans, which is what it sounded like Molly was going to ask you to do.

“Well, you know that funding we secured for that new project?”

“Yeah?” you say, Ben coming up to you, trying to show you something. “Hold on, Benny. What’s going on, Mol?”

“They’re getting cold feet.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, we need you here. You and DeAndre were the ones who got them in the first place, and he’s already here. Please?”

You take in a deep breath, trying to figure out if anyone is free to watch Ben. You couldn’t bring him in and have him running around the office while you were trying to convince a major investor to give you the money promised. “I have to find a babysitter but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you sigh, wracking your brain as to who would be free. Rachel couldn’t typically do weekends, but maybe she could if you promised to pay her extra? But then there was the issue of: did you have the money to pay her extra?

You start scrolling through your contacts, trying to figure out if anyone in there would be able to watch your son, running into your room to get changed to look at least a little presentable.

Trent’s name pops up, calling you with what you hoped would be somewhat perfect timing. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you answer, your phone on your bed as you try to find something to wear.

“What am I looking at?”

“I’m changing for work and my phone is on my bed, so the ceiling.”

“I thought it was your day off?” he asks as you throw what seemed to be the only clean work shirt that you could find. You knew you were forgetting to do something today, now you realized it was laundry.

“Molly called saying that I need to go in and now I have to find someone to watch Ben or else I’m going to have to bring him in with me, which doesn’t seem like a good idea. And most of my friends are from work or have their own lives and can’t watch him, Rachel can’t do weekends, but I guess I could ask her if she has any friends who could watch him last minute.”

“Y/N.”

“But then I have to pay them and since it’s so last minute I would need to give them more money, right?”

“Y/N.”

“I guess I could, but I think I would also have to pay for meals, and then I have no idea what time I’m going to get home, and whenever that is I’m going to have to do laundry, and-”

“Hey. Earth to Y/N. I can watch him,” Trent finally cuts you off long enough to get a word in.

You were hesitant; Trent had never been left alone with Ben, and probably never left alone with a four-year-old ever by your assumptions. “No, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you tell him, picking up your phone to see him.

“I’m serious! You just said you need a babysitter, I was going to ask if I could come over and see you before the road trip, anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip. Did you trust Trent enough to let him watch and take care of Ben? If you could trust Rachel, a girl who still had a curfew and couldn’t even drive her friends in the same car as her, why couldn’t you trust your boyfriend?

“Of course!” he says, clearly getting up and walking around what you think was his apartment. “I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hangs up and leaves you to finish getting ready, hurrying through trying to make yourself look presentable and finding the stuff that you needed. You couldn’t find your work bag, or your computer, mentally cursing yourself for the one time you didn’t leave it in your closet like you normally did.

“Hey, Benny? Have you seen Mommy’s computer and bag?” you go into your living room to where you left Ben. He shakes his head, his overall attention not leaving whichever toy he was fixated on. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, trying to find it. “Ben, how about you and I play a game?” you ask him, getting down in front of him. “If you can help me find my blue bag and my computer, someone really special will come over tonight!”

Ben gets up and starts looking for you, hoping that you can find it before Trent actually gets to your place. “Mommy! I found it!” Ben comes running to you, your bag nearly as big as him as he struggles to carry it to you.

You take it from him, kissing his head as he goes running off, a knock at your door just in time. Opening it, you see Trent on the other side, a bag in his hand. Kissing him hello, you tell him, “I owe you big time.”

“We can discuss payment when you get home. And I have some ideas as to how you could pay me,” he says, bringing you in for a kiss.

“Trent!” Ben runs over, interrupting.

Trent practically launches himself off you, picking up Ben and hugging him while your son’s laughter and happiness fill your home. “Benny Bear!” He gives Ben the bag, telling him to open it.

“A bear!” Ben jumps up and down with the small stuffed animal that Trent had gotten him.

“What does a bear say?” Trent asks, both of them going, “grrrrr,” with their hands curled like claws, their faces scrunched. You felt yourself melting at the sight of Trent getting along so well with Ben, your son running around in circles with his new toy that he would probably say is his favorite since it came from Trent.

“Did you buy him a Benny Bear?” you gush, bringing him in for a hug.

“I saw it when I was on the road and had to get it for the little guy.”

“You love him,” you tell him, not needing to ask since you already knew what his answer would be if you did.

“Of course. But you have to get to work,” he tells you, pushing you off him.

“I’ll pay you for whatever you get for dinner, order what you want, within reason for him.”

“You don’t have to pay me back, and I’ll make sure to get him lots of candy,” he jokes, earning a look from you. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Go, go to work. I’ve got this.”

“If you need anything call me, or even one of the guys who have kids. If you trust them, I’ll trust them.” You kiss him again, yell goodbye to your son and remind him to behave for Trent. You were nervous about leaving Ben alone with him, but if you wanted to be serious about this guy, you had to do it at some point, right?

You close the door, leaving Ben and Trent alone on the other side as you try to think about how you and DeAndre can now keep your investors from pulling money, practically running down the hall so that you can get to your car.

Trent turns around, Ben already sitting back down on the floor and playing away with his toys. He had no idea how to watch a four-year-old. He takes in a deep breath, sitting on the ground with Ben, his back leaning up against your couch. “Alright, Benny, what do you want to do?”

Ben hands Trent a toy, starting to ramble on about whatever magical world he’s conjured up that Trent was no part of. He had no idea what he was doing, trying to follow along with your son’s imagination as best as he could.

Trent didn’t know how you did it. Ben was a ball of energy all the time, and at home seemed to be no exception. Trent was chasing him around as they played ‘Bear catcher,’ which Trent wasn’t really sure the rules of in the first place, just following around your four-year-old through your apartment while he sprinted, jumped, hid, crawled, and did every other action that Trent felt too old for.

Ben finally sits down and focuses on the tv when he hears some song coming from it, the first moments that Trent can sit down as well, hoisting himself onto the cushions. His phone starts buzzing, a call from Jack coming in. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?” Jack’s voice comes through the phone as Ben gets up again, starting to run around with the bear Trent bought him.

“I’m watching Ben.”

“Since when are you a babysitter?” Jack asks, judgment dripping in his voice.

“Since Y/N needed a babysitter and I was free.” Ben climbs up on the couch and starts jumping, Trent suddenly feeling a wash of panic over him at the thought of Ben falling and getting hurt. Jack starts saying something that Trent knew he didn’t want to hear anyway, giving him the perfect excuse to cut him off. “Hey, Ben, you’ve gotta be careful. Sorry, dude, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

He hangs up before Jack can get another word in. “Hey, Benny. Mom said we could order dinner,” he says, pulling Ben into his lap in hopes that he would calm down long enough so he could talk to him. Ben squirms as his energy never seems to stop, Trent doing everything he can to try to figure this out. “What sounds good to you?”

“Ice cream!”

Trent lets out a small laugh, Ben’s face glowing at the thought of ice cream for dinner. “No, bud, you can’t have ice cream for dinner.”

“Ice cream! Ice cream!” Ben wriggles free of Trent’s grasp, repeating the phrase over and over again as he sets off running around again.

Trent was way in over his head. He didn’t think that Ben would have this much energy for this long. Whenever he was with you, it was either during the day and Ben stayed relatively calm, or when you were playing, he had you to help counteract and keep Ben from being the seemingly crazy child that he was right now. He could call you and ask what to do, but from how you sounded on the phone and when he came over, you were way too stressed out to also have to worry about Ben at that moment. He could call one of his teammates who actually knew what they were doing when it came to child care, but Jack’s words from the family skate practically haunted him. He wasn’t in too over his head when he was with you, or when he was with you and Ben. But just Ben? Not going too well.

“Benny Bear, come here,” Trent says, reaching out to catch Ben as he runs by the couch. “How about, we get something else to eat, and if you eat all of it, I’ll get you ice cream?” he asks, making a mental note to at least text you to ask if it was ok that he have it. Ben nods his head since Trent technically said he could have ice cream. “What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“What about,” he starts, pulling out his phone. “Some chicken fingers?” Something told him cheese and ice cream wasn’t going to end well for Ben’s stomach that night, and by default, it wasn’t going to end well for Trent, either.

Ben nods, going back off and running around the room. He had to tire out at some point, right?

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Trent calling you to make sure his dinner plans were ok.

“Hey, Ben said he wanted ice cream, but I told him only if he eats his dinner, and I had to make sure it was alright with you, first.”

“What did you settle on?”

“Chicken fingers?”

He hears someone calling your name in the background, you yelling something back to them in panic. “Yeah, there might be some in the freezer? If not, just tell him that the ice cream fairy is coming later and he can have it tomorrow, or something. There are also some carrots in the fridge, too. Tell him he has to eat some of those if he wants ice cream, even if I don’t have any. Have some with him, pretend they’re spaceships, and play with them before you eat them, that normally distracts him long enough.”

“That works?”

“Trent, he’s four. Most things like that do.” He hears more yelling from your end, Ben coming zooming by him yet again, nearly tripping over Trent’s feet. “I’ve gotta run. Love you, bye.”

You hang up before Trent can react. You hadn’t told each other that you loved the other yet. He knew he loved you, but he didn’t know if you loved him back. But you just said it, and he didn’t even know if you meant it since you said it in such a hurried context. He hoped you meant it. He can’t even focus while he’s ordering dinner, not really sure what he was having other than the carrots you mentioned were in the fridge.

Trent just sits there while he waits for the food to arrive, getting the carrots out and trying to see if there was anything close to ice cream, or even yogurt that he could throw in the freezer for Ben while he continues to zoom around your apartment. “Hey, Benny, look!” he says, holding up the carrots. “Spaceships!”

This felt like he was talking to a dog, which seemed weird, but at this rate, Ben was tiring him out so fast he didn’t know what to do. He and Ben start playing with the carrots, watching your son eat what was in front of him when the doorbell rang for food.

Ben keeps playing with food, something Trent thought you probably wouldn’t like too much, but at this point, he didn’t know if he should care. He had no idea how you did this. There was no way Ben had this much energy every night, right? He had never seen you exhausted, so Ben couldn’t be a ball of energy all the time. At least, that’s what he convinced himself as he sat there eating his food.

Eventually, Ben goes to sleep, Trent helping get him ready for bed and tucking him in. You had texted that you weren’t sure when you were going to be home, but Trent was free to stay the night instead of driving back home regardless of what time you would be back, something he gladly took you up on.

Trent finally settles down after finding a pair of sweats he left at your place a while ago, collapsing onto the couch in complete exhaustion from Ben’s running.

“Trent?” he hears Ben’s small voice coming from down the hall, pulling Trent away from the trance he fell in trying to stay awake until you got home. “Trent!”

He runs down the hall at the sound of the increased panic in your son’s voice, not sure what he was supposed to expect when he practically burst through his bedroom door. “Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ben was breathing heavily when Trent got close to his bed, clutching his sheets to his chest, “I had a bad dream.”

Trent sits down on Ben’s bed, a sad smile on his face. “Ah, Benny, it’s all over now. You’re safe.” Ben nods his head, a terrified look still on his face. He pulls Ben in for a hug, kissing the top of his head, Ben’s small arms wrapping around Trent’s own. “How about I read you a story to help you fall asleep?”

Ben nods, jumping out of bed and getting a book for Trent. “Goodnight Lab?” Trent reads, a confused look on his face.

“Mommy likes science,” Ben offers as his explanation.

“Of course she does,” he says, opening the book, putting his arm around your son as Ben cuddles up against Trent’s chest. “In the great green lab, there was a laser, and a lab notebook, and a picture of Einstein with a stern look,” he starts, already seeing Ben’s eyes getting heavy.

You finally get back home, seeing the light on, no one in the living room. Wandering through your apartment, you hear Trent’s voice coming from Ben’s room, finding him there with your son, him asleep against Trent’s chest as he whispers the end of the book to him, “Goodnight liquid nitrogen, goodnight compressed air, goodnight scientists everywhere.”

You stand in the doorway, Trent not noticing you as he slips himself from Ben, your son curling up with his blankets. Trent bends down to kiss him on the head, tiptoeing out of the room.

“Hi,” you whisper, closing Ben’s door behind you, giving Trent a kiss hello. “What was that?”

“He had a nightmare, so I read him a story to calm him down and get him back to sleep,” he explains.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you tell him, leading him down the hall to your room.

He shrugs, closing the door behind you. “My mom used to do it for me and my siblings. I always told myself that I would do it for my son or daughter.” You don’t know what to say, just pulling him in for a kiss, down on your bed. He pulls away, a smile on his face, “Oh, and I love you too,” he tells you, hoping that Ben didn’t wake up and hear what you two were about to do next.

Sweet Emotion

“Happy birthday, Benny!” Trent says, taking a video of your son as he blew out the candle on the small cupcake in front of him. Your son’s fifth birthday was spent out with Trent, starting with him making breakfast again, taking the two of you to the park and Boston Commons as he played with Ben the entire time, out to dinner where you were now, treating you the entire way. Ben didn't even care about the gift that you had gotten from Andy, something he had previously looked forward to every year. Ben was starting to see Trent as a father figure, something that was both terrifying and exciting to you.

If Trent, for whatever reason, stopped wanting to be part of your life, that would mean he would also probably leave Ben’s, a boy who already didn’t know his father and didn’t seem to want to know him. But he wanted to know Trent, he loved Trent, and you knew Trent loved him, too. You were just afraid he would fall out of love.

Ben was giggling as Trent smashed part of the cupcake against his nose, the bright red frosting making him look like Rudolph as he tried, and failed, to lick it off himself.

“Did you get that part, too?” you ask Trent, leaning over to see his screen.

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you. Do you mind if I post it to my private story? Some of the guys and their wives would go crazy for this.”

“Only the private one,” you tell him, laughing as you turn to Ben to see his face more of a mess than before, the red frosting now spread to his cheeks, “Benny, what happened?”

“I’m painting,” he says, using his finger to smear the frosting on his face.

Trent can’t help but laugh, you pulling Ben in for a hug. Trent snaps a picture of you kissing the frosting off his face. “Wait a sec,” he says, calling over a waiter to take a picture of the three of you, both of you kissing Ben’s cheek as he beams at the camera.

You see him set his phone down, notifications lighting the screen up as you guys get ready to leave, the picture of the three of you his new phone background.

The next morning, Trent had morning skate before needing to get ready for their game that night. The last game before the All-Star Weekend marking the halfway point of the season was always both nerve-wracking and exciting, the hypothetical of ‘if the season ended today, would you be in or out of the playoffs?’ always on everyone’s mind even though it meant virtually nothing, but still wanting to stay at one of the top spots in the league regardless.

“Hey, what was with that story yesterday?” Jack asks him after practice.

“It was Ben’s birthday,” he shrugs.

“Isn’t it weird?” Zach asks. “She has a kid. She’s a mom. You aren’t a dad.”

“I never said I was his dad,” he defends himself, starting to take on a hostile tone.

“Well, you’re acting like his dad, aren’t you?”

Trent rolls his eyes as his only response. What was he supposed to do? Ignore that you have a child? Trent gets up to leave, Jack now standing in front of him to stop him.

“You’re with them all the time. You watch him when Y/N is busy. You brought them to family skate. You know his favorite toys, his favorite tv shows, you facetime them every night before the game because he’s going to be asleep by the time the game is over. You’re not his dad,” Jack lists to Trent, Trent getting more angry with every word that comes from his friend.

“What am I supposed to do? Pretend that Ben isn’t part of her life? Pretend that she has no kid? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s messing with you, Trent!” Jack yells, the rest of the remaining guys getting quiet. “You don’t do this. You don’t date a girl who has a child and play ‘house’ with her. You’re the guy who just fucks around and has fun. Where did he go?”

“I can’t change? I can’t settle down because I wasn’t settled before?” Trent responds, knowing that his face was bright red, “I love Y/N, and I love Ben. I don’t care if you think it’s ‘not normal.’ It’s what I want and you don’t really get a say in that.” Jack stands there, stunned by his friends' words, still struggling to find them as Trent grabs his bag and walks out of the room to go home before the game.

He wanted to call you and talk about it with you, but what was he going to say? ‘The guys think my dating you is weird since you have a son?’ The flash of your expression appeared in his mind when you realized the guys didn’t know about Ben at family skate, the pain he knew you felt when you thought he was ashamed of Ben. He wasn’t then and he isn’t now.

But what was he doing? Jack was right: he wasn’t Ben’s dad. He could never really be Ben’s dad. Why did your son mean so much to him if he had no relation to the child in the first place?

Why did he have to say he was all in? He was supposed to be focusing on himself and his hockey, not a girl he met at a bar and pouring all his excess energy into you and your son. What was he supposed to do? Pull back? Pull you away from your son? There was no way that was going to be an option, and there was no way that was an option he wanted to follow.

He was supposed to be following his normal pre-game traditions and routines, not having his mind run rampant over the thought of you and Ben and what his teammates think.

He pulls out his phone, a notification from Instagram telling him that you had responded to his story a few hours ago while he was at practice. Trent opens it, seeing the picture of Ben, looking so happy with the cupcake that was all his, the red frosting seconds from being smeared all over his face. Trent didn’t think about being a dad anytime soon. He really never had any intention of settling down, at least not yet, not seriously, yet there he was, thinking of Ben like his own son, head over heels for you and your son.

It was too much, wasn’t it?

His phone started buzzing with texts from the guys to make sure that he was ok after they watched his and Jack’s blow up in the locker room. Trent didn’t even care about them at this point, knowing that he should at least answer them even just to tell them to leave him alone for the time being.

But what if they were right? Jack’s words kept ringing through his head, that he was just a guy who had fun because that’s what he wanted, not a guy who settled down with a girlfriend, and especially not a guy who settled down with a girl who had a toddler.

He spent the entire time he was supposed to be taking a nap going back and forth between whether or not he was in too deep or if he was fine because he was in love. The night he met you, he had never intended to get this far in with you. He had just wanted to hook up, the reason he went home with you in the first place. But as soon as you told him about Ben, seeing the crushed look on your face at the prospect of him leaving because of your son, he knew that he couldn’t just be one and done. There was something about you and Ben that he had to be part of it once he was introduced, that part of his life that he never knew was missing until he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you.

And it was just too much.

Attitude Adjustment

Trent finally gets to the Garden, not even remembering who they were playing that night. He couldn’t think about anyone else, almost tempted to tell Bruce that he was sick so he could be a late scratch instead of letting this mess with him. Because no matter what he did, he couldn’t get out of his head and focus. The music that he normally played before a game wasn’t working, even so much as trying to close his eyes and picture being on the ice while he was in the locker room before the game.

No one approached him while he was in his stall, probably out of fear of another outburst from him. He wasn’t even paying attention when Bergeron gave his traditional pre-game motivational speech before they all went out to the ice, Trent skating around by himself in hopes of being able to focus before they played the Flames that night.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he hears someone say, not even noticing who came up to him in the first place.

He looks at Brad, suddenly thankful that there was someone on the team who knew what he was going through. “Katrina already had Sloane when you two met, right?”

“Y/N and Ben on your mind?”

“You were in the locker room after practice.”

The two of them skate around their half of the ice, the time before the game ticking down. “When you date a woman, when any two people date, there’s always going to be something that can get in the way and potentially break you up. That includes their family, their kids if they have them. You need to decide if you want to let Ben break you and Y/N up or if you’re going to take him in and not let him do that.”

The guys were migrating back to the bench, Brad still on the ice for the starting lineup. “It worked for you, though,” Trent says, hanging back as long as he could, his eyes darting back and forth between the clock and his teammate.

Brad shrugs, looking out to the blue line where Bergeron and Pastrnak were already waiting. “I don’t see Sloane as any less of my son than I see Sawyer as my daughter. It worked for me. If you want it to work for you, then you have to make it work.”

The buzzer sounds, Bruce yelling for Trent to get off the ice and onto the bench. Did he want this to work with you and Ben? What the three of you had was already great, but Trent had barely spent any time with you, a time when you and he could just be a couple without worry of anyone else.

Trent’s line goes out on the ice, his mind still occupied as he skates. The puck touches his stick, him making a mad dash towards the Flames net, only to get tangled up with Tkachuk, sending Trent to the ice. He doesn’t get up for a minute, trying to process what happened, an easy shot and probably goal just messed up, leading to a breakaway to the other end to put the Flames up 1-0 against the Bruins.

By the time he can finally get himself up, Bruce is yelling at him that if he messes up like that again then he’s benched the rest of the game, definitely not a good look going into the All-Star break. He gets back out on the ice, the same thing happening with him tripping on a breakaway, this time over himself instead of a Flame, again leading to them scoring and putting them up 2-0. He couldn’t get out of his head. Trent sat there the entire time, not even focusing on the game, not focusing on the comeback his own team had to win the game 4-3.

He didn’t talk to anyone in the locker room, rushing out as soon as he could to go home, hearing Brad’s voice carry through the hallway to the elevators as he explained what he knew about the situation, no doubt that Jack offered his own remarks that Trent was sure would have lead to them fighting right there.

He had never wanted to fight one of his teammates over shit they said before, let alone one of his best friends. Other guys on other teams? Sure. But Jack?

Trent gets into his car, his phone already blowing up, asking him if he had still wanted to come on the trip to Puerto Rico he and the guys had planned with their girlfriends a while back. He had completely forgotten about the trip, no one even mentioning it for the longest time, not even sure that it was actually booked by anyone.

What surprised him most was Jack asking in the group if you were going to come with them, followed by a separate text saying that he meant it, that he wanted you to come.

Maybe this is what you and Trent needed; a trip with the guys, the two of you able to spend some time alone and just be with each other without the constant worry of someone or something else. He texted back that he would be there, not sure about you yet.

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Ben’s coming through the background. Hearing him made Trent hesitate, swallowing hard.”Trent?”

“Yeah, uh,” he swallows again, “Sorry, um, mind if I stop by for a few minutes?”

You sit up from the couch, looking at the mess you didn’t even realize Ben had created during the game. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon?” you say, hearing him start up his car.

“Yeah, awesome,” he says, hanging up before either of you could say anything else, practically speeding out of the Garden as fast as he could to get to you. The more he thought about it, the more excited he was about spending a week with you.

“Hey, Benny, guess who’s coming over soon?” you put on a cheery voice, crouching down to the floor where Ben was playing with his toys.

Your toddler started bouncing up and down, his arms waving around in excitement. “Trent?” he squeals.

“He should be here any minute, help me pick up some of your toys, ok?”

You and Ben start to scramble to pick everything up. You knew Trent wouldn’t normally care if there were toys on the ground, but there was something about the tone of his voice when he called to tell you that he was stopping by that worried you.

You had watched the game, you weren’t stupid that he had had an awful game, thankful that it was an earlier evening game that Ben could watch with you. Even he was upset when Trent fell, both times, getting benched and hearing Jack and Brick speculate what was up with one of their favorite players.

Ben continued to buzz around as you waited, thankful that he couldn’t sense the anxiety that was building up while waiting for Trent. You hear him knocking on the door, getting up while Ben seems to be oblivious to the sound. You smile when you see him, mirroring his own expression, the complete opposite of what you expected given the conversation you had minutes ago.

“I have something to ask you,” he starts, his hands on your waist as he starts walking you backward down the hall, seemingly toward your bedroom.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben comes up to the two of you, bouncing up and down, Trent's hands releasing their grip on you. “Are you coming on Friday?” Ben asks him, referencing his concert at school that Trent had promised to come to.

You saw the smile on Trent’s face fade at Ben’s words, a nervous look taking over as he knelt down to look Ben in the eye. “I really want to see your concert, buddy, but I’m not sure if I can make it. I’m gonna try, though, ok?” he tries to save face when he sees the crushed look on your son’s face.

Ben nods, not understanding what Trent was really saying to him. In his world, Trent saying he wasn’t sure meant he didn’t want to see him sing with his other classmates. “Um, Ben, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit, ok?” you ask him, guiding him to his room, watching him run down the hall. You turn to your boyfriend, clearly confused by what he just told Ben. “It’s the All-Star break, what came up?”

“The guys and I are going away for the break, and I want you to come with me.”

“What are you talking about? You said you were staying here?” you ask him, praying that Ben doesn’t come out of his room and couldn’t hear any of this.

“I know, I know, but, come on, things change,” he says, taking your hand and trying to lead back down your hallway.

“Wait, Trent, come on,” you stop him, turning him around to face you. “You want Ben and I to come with you on a trip with the guys? What guys, where are you going?”

His expression drops again, “I was kinda hoping it would just be me and you.”

“And where would Ben be? I can’t just leave him alone. I can’t go away with you.”

“But, Y/N, come on,” he whines. “This could be so good for us. A few days, just you and me, no distractions, nothing stopping us from just being together, like a real couple.”

“Distractions? A real couple? Trent, what the,” you stop, realizing you were standing right outside of Ben’s door. You look between Trent and the door, Trent’s pleading expression as you take him down the hall, practically slamming the door to your own bedroom. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss.

He sits on your bed, you still standing, towering over him. He puts his hands in his face, letting out a deep breath. “I’m,” he starts, “I just want time where it’s you and me. Other than that night at the bar, we almost never have had more than a few hours when you and I are alone. I need to get out of Boston for a bit, and I don’t want anyone with me beside you.”

“Trent, I can’t,” you protest, sitting down next to him.

“Yes, please, just say, yes.”

“No, Trent. You aren’t hearing what I’m saying.”

“I am, I just-”

“Ok, then you aren’t listening! I can’t just drop everything on a moment’s notice and go off with you on a vacation. I have a kid, and if you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly afford a babysitter for more than two nights in a row, let alone watching him all day every day for an entire week.”

“Don’t worry, I can pay for one, I just need to get out of here, and I need you with me.”

“Trent, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Ben can stay with a sitter.”

“Don’t you get it? Ben comes first. Ben has to come first. When it comes to a decision between you and Ben, or anyone and Ben, my choice is always Ben. There is never a case when I’ll pick something or someone over him, especially not going on some trip with you and your frat boy-like teammates because you’re upset you had one bad game. I choose him every single time. Especially over you, Trent.”

“What about Ben’s father? Can’t he stay with Andy?”

You can’t help but gasp, hurt by what you thought Trent meant. “You mean the father that didn’t want him? I. Told you. This,” you say, standing up again, “Andy wants nothing to do with Ben. And right now it seems like neither do you.” You could feel the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, turning around and heading out of your room. You couldn’t look at him. You had no idea where you were going to go, given that you had Ben in his room and couldn’t leave him.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he runs after you, stopping you before you reached the door. “I just want a few days, where it’s you and me. Where everything is easy for us. Where there’s nothing, no one, besides you and me.”

“This isn’t supposed to be easy. You knew it wasn’t going to be so why are you so shocked that this is how it is?” you tell him, the tears finally falling.

The two of you stand there for a minute, Trent starting to reach for you a few times before running his hands through his hair. “It’s me and Ben, or neither of us,” you give him an ultimatum. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, wishing he can find the words. “Fine. If you can’t make the decision, I will. Get out.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No. If you have to think about it, then you aren’t ‘all in,’” you call back to the morning after you two met. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Trent doesn’t say another word, pushing past you and leaving you there.

You press your back against the door, letting out a silent sob so that Ben can’t hear you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, wiping the tears from your face and peeling yourself off the door. You walk down the hall, hoping that Ben wouldn’t notice the redness that was probably in your eyes from crying, opening his door.

“Where’s Trent?” Ben asked, handing you a toy of his when you sit down on his floor with him.

You swallow hard, not sure what to really tell him. “He had to go, Benny,” you say, running your hand on his hair, pulling him close to kiss the top of his head.

“When’s he coming back, Mommy?”

You put on a fake smile for him, not wanting to let him know when you really thought Trent would be back. “I don’t know, sweetie. Not this week.”

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

You hadn’t checked anyone’s story on Instagram since last night, sitting on the metal chairs in the middle of the day, surrounded by parents much older than you, figuring now was probably the only time you hate the chance.

You tap through them, some stories from friends from college, random celebrities that you followed. You finally get to Jack’s story from last night. They were in Puerto Rico, in some dark restaurant. Zach and Jeremy were dancing, Jack behind the camera. In the corner, you could see Trent sitting at a table, looking miserable. He sees Jack with his camera, shakes his head and storms off. You replay the story, Jack’s shaking making you think that he was saying something and turning the sound on low, holding the phone to your ear. You could hear the music more than anything else, sounds of Zach, Jeremy, and Jack’s laughter breaking through after one of them said something inaudible. Trent must have gotten up at that point, because you hear Jack yell, “Oh, Trent! Come on, man! Have some fun!”

You go to Trent’s profile, hoping that he had posted anything. The last photo he has posted was of the two of you, him strategically cropping out Ben because you had asked him to. It was from Ben’s birthday, outside the restaurant. He had captioned it, ‘Spent the day with my two favorite people, Bear not shown.’

Ben’s preschool teacher gets up on the stage, the high-pitched whispers of the four- and five-year-olds starting by the back door as Ms. Barry introduces the class, all of them walking up in a line to the stage. They start waving to their parents, Ben waving to you as everyone, including you, has their phone out waving back and recording the moment. The children start singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ their pixie-like voices filling the auditorium, all slightly out of key and slightly out of sync with each other. Towards the end of the song, you notice Ben starting to jump up and down, anxious over something he saw towards the back of the auditorium, as did some of the other children. You figured it was nothing, none of the other parents turning around to look at what it was either.

They go onto their next song, one you weren’t paying attention to, nor did you recognize it. Ben was no less antsy than he was before, waving again with the biggest smile on his face. It had to be someone.

You turn around, Trent leaning against the back wall, one hand in his pocket while the other was waving to Ben. All of his attention was on Ben. You turn back in your seat, shocked that he was there. He was supposed to be in Puerto Rico.

You put your bag on the seat, the mom next to you promising to watch it. You sneak back to Trent, not sure what to say to him. You turn to Ben, giving him the thumbs up and a single finger to tell him that you were going to be back in a second, feeling bad that you were leaving your so. Ben jumps up and down, nodding and continuing to sing.

You grab Trent, pulling him out of the room and into the small hallway. “What are you doing here? You were in Puerto Rico last night; I saw you on Jack’s story.”

He looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip. “I couldn’t be there knowing you and Ben were here.”

“That’s not what you said when you wanted to go.”

He nods, looking up at you for a second before his eyes flick back down to his feet. “I told you I was dumb.”

“So why are you here then?”

“I told you when we first met that I was all in. I can’t be all in if I’m not here.”

“So?”

He takes a step closer to you, hesitating for a moment. “So. I don’t want to miss anything with you, or with Ben.” You don’t know what came over you, kissing him outside your son’s concert the way you did. You can hear the parents start to cheer, signaling that the concert was finished. Trent pulls away, your foreheads pressed against each other. He smiles before stealing a kiss again, pulling you back inside.

Ben comes running up to you, giggling with his arms open. “Trent!”

“Benny Bear!” he responds, crouching down with his arms open, hugging Ben when he came in contact. He picks him up, kissing him on the cheek, your hand on Trent’s back.

“You came! You’re back!” Ben squeals, burying his face in Trent’s shoulder.

“Back and here to stay,” he says to you, giving you a quick kiss before putting Ben down, getting your bag, and going home.

#trent frederic #trent frederic imagines #boston bruins #bruins imagines #boston bruins imagines #bruins #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #aerosmith fic

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years ago

Text

for @bend-me-shape-me's spn advent calendar 2020. prompt IV: cooking and baking.

Footsteps approach the kitchen, and Dean Winchester turns back to the stove with a widening smile. The second stack is almost done. Perfect timing, he tells himself, smug, and only maybe swaying his hips more than what comes naturally while cooking breakfast in pyjamas to a background of Freddie Mercury wanting to break free.

The footsteps reach the doorway just as Dean flips his pancake.

"Remind me never to ask you why you love me." He throws over his shoulder with a grin, wondering indignantly for a second how it's at all fair that he's blushing at his own words.

But then life would be a lot easier, and way less fun, if all things weren't fair in love.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean finally turns, pancake ready, about to launch into a half-rehearsed, half-gleefully-winged monologue about love languages and food, pancakes, and being the best husband of all time.

But he stutters to a halt before he's even begun, eyes glued to Cas.

Cas, in his unfastened robe and bedheaded glory — perfect, pink lips pursed, still grumbly from sleep. Cas's shoulders, his chest, hipbones, and beyond. Cas, with his adorably bleary stare, quick to flip to hungry once they fall upon the plate in Dean's hand, blue, and unerringly pretty.

Cas, looking like the stuff of Dean's dreams, barely even awake. And Cas, the love of his life.

Just — Cas.

Dean's heard of head-over-heels before, but he's never quite expected it to literally feel like toppling over, and going flying through the sky — kind of like in the animated cartoons Cas wordlessly watches with him (for the plot, he insists, and for Dean, Dean knows, because he's the best friggin' thing that ever happened to him, that's why.)

"Remind me," Dean whistles, going for suggestive though he's pretty sure he's objectively too dazed for it. "To never ask you why I love you."

Cas tilts his head, tradition and all, eyeing Dean mildly as if he's not quite sentient enough to do the human equivalent of reading Dean's mind — "understanding you involves picking up on everything you don't say as well, Dean, and that is not unlike angelic thought extraction!" — yet, but can tell there's been a revelation he's missed.

"Unless you're joking," Cas says at last, ponderous, and pulling a chair. "I'd like you to know you can ask me anything."

Dean tsks.

"Although," he keeps going. "You've never asked those things before, and the chances of you asking them in the future don't strike me as many."

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, putting the plates on their wooden table-for-two, and sitting down across from Cas.

(When it's just them, they've started having breakfast in the kitchen — less distance to carry the dishes, more easily served helps, and occasionally Dean manages to persuade Cas into making out with him sat on the counter, general rules of domesticated living abandoned and Cas between his legs, since there's nothing quite like a post-breakfast kitchen-makeout to wake you up, he'll never stop claiming.

When Sam and Eileen are over (every Saturday) or Jack or Claire are visiting (they just pop in whenever really) or Jody and the the girls, of course, there's always the big dining table in the real dining room.)

"It's like Humaning 101 every morning with you." Dean informs Cas around a mouthful of pancakes, and Cas wrinkles his nose in indignance, laced with disapproval.

"That's unfair."

"Okay." Dean smirks, putting his fork down, and propping his chin in his palm. "So the robe, you know, the whole frontal nudity thing you've got going on today, it's a conscious choice?"

"I —"

Probably for the first time since morning, Cas looks down at himself. Dean waits, watches his eyes widen in realization, and ultimately close with a sigh of regret.

"Oh, son of a bitch."

And that's it.

Dean throws his head back and bursts out laughing because nothing could possibly get more human, or more perfectly fitting an end to this morning than that, and when he's able to breathe again, he leans in to kiss Cas's disappointed frown off — and Cas meets him in the middle, because he's awesome like that — and this right here?

Breakfasts, and falling a little deeper in love every morning for no particular reason, and random profanities, and kisses?

It's exactly Dean wants to do for the rest of his days.

And that's a whole bunch of perfect in itself, so there's that — and there's them — and by handwritten fate, and some strokes of incredibly good luck, they're it.

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aotsimmer · 4 years ago

Text

Our Future

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader/OC

Words: 1.2K

Genre: Fluff, comfort, and some sprinkles of Angst.

Warnings: Mention of death. Serious conversations. Also bad grammar... most likely. Sorry.

Summary: There was a question that had always plagued Eden since joining the scouts. So, she asked Levi the question: what happens after the titans?

A/N: It’s just some creative vomit I spewed out because creativity struck me when I needed to do homework. Also, it’s easier to write an OC character than for a Y/N character. Don’t worry, Eden is a tall Y/N with a name. Also another thing, a warning on grammar and stuff. I’m not the best writer but I’m trying my best. Will try to edit it when I feel embarrassed about this piece. (Probably in a few days.)

Also apologies if Levi came out OOC. I’m learning how to write his character.

Enjoy!

“What’s your plan after we exterminate the titans? Once they’re gone?”

Eden had been thinking about their future for quite a while. Humanity’s future. Once the titans were exterminated and the bane of their existence gone, what will happen then? Eden knew that leaving everything behind once that happened will be impossible if not unrealistic. So, she wondered what will happen to the scouts. Will they continue to survey lands? Explore past their horizons? Conquer land again?

She had asked Levi the question. She wanted to know what future he hoped for if such a scenario happened. What will he do? Will he continue being part of the Survey Corps? Did he plan to be a soldier all his life? Where did she fit in his ideal future?

“… I haven’t thought that far ahead…” Levi answered honestly after thinking about it. He was sitting by the table in her room, drinking tea while he kept her company during their weekend break. His gaze had been focused on that day’s newspaper and he had been frowning and muttering about how much someone was an idiot for doing Walls knows what.

Eden hummed in thought at his answer before finally nodding. Accepting the answer before letting the conversation drop. She picked up her discarded book and didn’t notice her lover stare at her in thought. Eden started to become engrossed in the fictional romance again when her reading was abruptly interrupted by him clearing his throat. She looked up and raised an eyebrow while she waited for him to speak. Levi looked away from her, ears and cheeks turning red at the sudden attention she was giving him.

“… Maybe… A tea shop in a town… far away from the walls…” He mumbled into his teacup. Distracting himself from her gaze.

Eden smiled. She had not expected him to think about her question. She put her book down and gave him her full attention. His eyes widened, and immediately gave her that face he made when he was embarrassed by her attention.

“It’s not a bad idea, I like it. It suits you.” She stated. Looking for another specific reaction of his.

“Does it?” He almost whispered.

“Yes. Will I be able to visit?”

He turned to her quickly. A frown forming on his already naturally scowling face before he opened his mouth to spew his words at her.

“What are you on about? You’re coming with me, idiot. Or what? A tea shop is not up to your standards?”

Eden thought they had gotten over the topic of her “noble” status after the last argument they had about it. She frowned at his defensive words, feeling offended that he brought it up.

“Do I look that shallow to you? I thought we had gone past this. That’s not it you idiot…” She paused before she looked away, “I just wasn’t sure if I had a part in your future…”

Levi’s frown quickly relaxed. Eden couldn’t look at him without feeling embarrassed of the implication of her words. Preoccupied on overthinking her words she did not see him move from the table but felt the bed dip in front of her. She refused to look at him.

“Forgive me. I assumed you didn’t… want to be part of it…”

Eden sighed and looked over to him. Levi’s cheeks were red again, but his eyes held that sincere look. It spoke more words to her than he ever could. She softly smiled again and grabbed his hand. She stayed silent for a few moments before she cleared her throat.

“I see myself in that tea shop far away from the walls, living in a small cottage with you… far away from the pompous lifestyles of the interior… spending the rest of our lives there, serving tea. I could make paintings and sell them if they’re good enough. Maybe we could have a pet, or I don’t know… maybe adopt or have children of our own if you’re up for it-“

“Children are messy.”

“Or no children is fi-“

“I didn’t say I didn’t want any… just that they’re messy... and a lot of work....”

Eden chuckled and kissed Levi’s hand before she sighed happily. Levi let go of her hand for her cheek, caressing it softly before cupping it and running his thumb over it adoringly.

“Point is I see our future together… Once all of this is over and we can live to honor our friends and comrades, I want to see our dreams come true.”

“And what if something happens and our dream changes?”

Eden pretended to think before she answered him. Already knowing the answer.

“Then we improvise. A few changes along to the way won’t hurt.”

“And if we die? Or one of us does?” Eden smiled sadly, laying her hand over his.

“Always a possibility… Well, if we both die then the plan went straight to shit… But if one of us is dead, then we’ll just have to live for the other. Although I will very much like to be alive to grow old with you…”

The conversation was long overdue between them. Levi often avoided the topic of death or any topic that involved one of them missing. He also avoided any conversation that involved the future or plans of the future. It surprised Eden slightly that he had continued to speak about it with her and indulged her on the topic. It made her feel at ease now that a few things were out in the open.

“… Will you live for me… If I die?” She suddenly asked.

The look in his eyes was enough to break her heart. He pulled away but took her hand in his before speaking with the most determined voice she had ever heard him direct at her.

“I will… will you? Will you live for me?” If I die, was the unspoken part.

Eden sucked in a breath before holding his hand as tightly as he did. She pulled it to her heart before she looked directly at his blue-grey eyes. Promising it.

“I will. I promise.”

“Good.”

There was a heavy silence between them. Then Levi cracked it.

“Good… I’m a horrible painter.” Eden chuckled. The tenseness lifted.

“And I’m a horrible cleaner. Guess that leaves us with the only option of living, doesn’t it?”

“Not a horrible cleaner. You’re a shit cleaner. Can’t believe I even fell in love with you with how horribly you clean.”

Eden laughed, and let him go. Levi stood from the bed and made his way to the cooling kettle. He clicked his tongue as he frowned at it before looking over to her. Already grabbing the tray to take it to the kitchens.

“I’m going to make some new tea. This is going to taste like cold shit if I continue drinking it.”

Eden grabbed her book again and opened it to where she left off. She looked up as she saw her short significant other open the door and walk out, sending him off to his important mission with a simple, “I’ll be waiting,” before he closed the door. She sighed and leaned back onto the wall, book in hand. She was really looking forward to their future.

#levi x oc #levi x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #aot fanfiction #aot scenario #female oc #snk x oc #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #snk levi #levi fluff #levi angst #levi comfort

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holyjareau · 4 years ago

Note

imo, the show was often unilaterally focused on Piper, but only on what she could do for others (Piper the wife and Piper the mother) rather than who she was as a person. Piper's individual characterization was lost sometime around s5 as soon as she got pregnant, and being a mother and wife pretty much became her sole defining characteristic for the rest of the series. I would be very interested to hear what you define as Piper's mental issues/trauma, bc as you say it doesn't get said enough

this has been in my inbox forever and i’m just getting around to it so my apologies.

but okay. so. yes. i think a lot of tv shows fall into this weird place where like. all of their characters begin with these kinda vague personalities because you’re just getting to know them. and as the show goes on, you pick up more pieces and stuff . and that’s great. that’s interesting and entertaining and it takes you on a journey and all. but often what happens is many shows fall into this pit where writers either get lazy, they change, or whatever, and the actors are tired of playing the part or whatever . and like. the characters become like. caricatures of themselves. and it just gets exhausting to watch because they’re not like. real people anymore.

Piper's individual characterization

so now for the charmed thing. so from the beginning. i have loved piper. like she’s the middle sister, overlooked, quiet, reserved, pessimistic but also realistic, gentle, thoughtful, all that. we see right away that she loves to cook .. she’s so happy her family is back together. she kept in touch with phoebe behind prue’s back. but she’s loyal to the both of them. her first idea was to have a reunion dinner when phoebe came home. she’s literally so cute n she deserves a hug. but no like. as we go on, we see that she wants to be good, she wants a stable life with no more loss, she Loves Love !! like. she wants to just be happy , open her own restaurant n just cook. she’s also so shy .. definitely panicky and anxious. and she doesn’t trust herself. she’s skeptical of everything, and she’s very thoughtful when it comes to big situations. even in the early days with leo and into season 2, she mentioned a few things about like “i’ve been thinking a lot about this...” and you can see she’s good at communicating with people. she’s also got these other dimensions to her like . she is interested in lots of cuisine types, she loves to read (and is a camus fan !!) , she drives a jeep (which i wanna know how she got bc i have questions), when she found out she was a witch her first thought was just . i need to go and see if i am still a good person . and she went to church. prue was surprised to learn that piper enjoys knitting. in the early seasons (especially mid-late season 3) we saw her with her plants and all. she’s just this natural peacekeeper. but like. we literally got a crying scene in the second episode because she was so conflicted about this. and she’s such a deep and complex character that i fell in love with so fast . and like . literally my favourite fictional character to exist . genuinely holly breathed so much life into piper . anyway . so. here’s the thing.

being a mother and wife pretty much became her sole defining characteristic for the rest of the series

like. piper was who i described above. and like . i kinda think . a bit. that like . the writers . especially in s4 . were like . hmm well . she’s just lost prue, she’s gonna be grieving . and like we need more for her. so. she’s been married to leo for the better part of a year, been with him for like . 3 years. so. let’s maybe consider giving them a kid but not just yet . just Content kinda stuff. so anyway they drop little hints in here and there starting in like . 4x07 i think? which . brain drain really paid the rent . fully just. holly did so well. but like. that ep was just. a neat way of looking into her mind and seeing the horrors of manipulation and gaslighting and everything . and of course holly knocked it out of the park. but at that point, they were kinda like . hmm . kids ? and they started toying with the idea, having piper and leo consider it, talk about it, they had paige and phoebe ask about it , all of that good stuff. as you do. made for some funny tv at some points. and like . i really, really Get It . when piper’s like . ahh the baby wouldn’t be safe around here !!!! like. Girl, Valid . your sister just died and like . you went on forever about how she was The Most Powerful One . The Strongest One . and yet she still died . so she’s like ??? am i next ?? and like obv it doesn’t make sense for her to jump on this train of like . i’m gonna have a kid !!!! so she’s really valid in her thought process there. and like. after having wyatt . i think the writers really . idk. couldn’t do waaay too much with her character anymore because i feel like . to an extent, anything she does will be scrutinized bc i’m not just . saying this . i rlly feel like sometimes piper’s the easiest to hate. like idk why but i loved her. but anyway. if she stays at home with wyatt and doesn’t wanna fight demons n all . then she’s selfish towards her sisters n she’s awful n prue wouldn’t have let her do that !!!! etc . but if she fought demons it’s like . uh sweetie you have a child . really ??? why put yourself in a situation that might have you ending up like patty 2.0 ... bc i could do a Whole post on how patty’s situation messed piper up the most. but anyway.

it’s the way i’m fully rambling so if you’re reading this . i love you . anyway okay . so . i think in a tv show you’ve gotta kinda check boxes. the best tv shows have characters you see yourself in . you relate to them. you hear them and understand their decisions and actions and thoughts. the things they do just makes sense 2 you. so like. with prue, anyone married to their job could relate to her. any oldest sibling could see themselves in her, you know ? she was hard-working, committed, logical, protective. and with phoebe, anyone who couldn’t “settle down” in their early 20s related 2 her, anyone who felt like the outcast of the family, the “screw-up” .. right. makes sense. she was so kind, caring, had-your-back kinda girl. we all love those. paige was like . the new kid, trying to fit in, creative, curious, and definitely a lifelong learner. and then there’s piper who was shy, resistant, really just wanted to be normal. and loved. and i think everyone could kinda identify with at least one of the sisters regardless of where you stood in your own family. so as the show went on, it’s like . they still want you to keep watching and keep being able to identify with them because it’s not like they’re humans with normal lives so they’ve already kinda lowkey got that going against them . so their more “human” and normal lives... we’ve gotta be able to identify with them to be able to invest time. so they had prue always working, having trouble balancing love and work, looking out for her family. we had phoebe kinda living her life, getting her career going, then kinda wanting a family. we had paige learning magic and being super interested and involved and then getting married. and we had piper who had her career pretty early on, got married, and had kids. like. i think the big thing is the marriage and kids. and when you’re a mother . the only mother really in the show, the show lowkey centres around you . like. for starters, the show usually is in the manor, and if you’re a mother, you’re very likely at home, esp with young kids. so i think that alone kinda was like . huh yeah . won’t see piper out waaay too much anymore i guess !!! but no like . there’s That. that’s kinda. the thing that really can’t change with the show . like. piper’s got kids now and a husband and very, very likely . her life will be centred around her home. which. listen she’s wanted that i think - the stability . she’s wanted that forever. and this is the form it came in. but i should stop rambling here and cut to the point .

Piper's mental issues/trauma

disclaimer: i’m not diagnosing her, i’m just speculating based off of my own experiences with mental health

so. okay. very early on. we saw that anxiety. like. yes . she was nervous about like a whole new life experience . or whatever we’re gonna call it when you figure out you’re a witch . but like she was Anxious . like. crying in the attic over being a bad person . needing phoebe to talk her down by telling her she’s such a caring person, she’s always doing things for other people . and then there’s the whole anxiety that comes with. my family’s falling apart because my sisters are fighting so i use really awkward methods of getting out of things . like using humour as a coping mechanism !!! which. gave us some iconic one-liners. but that’s beside the point . anyway. point is. early on, that anxiety was there. there’s an ep in season 1 where she’s literally entering a panic attack in her kitchen and phoebe’s using a menu to cool her down. like. Yikes! and then she’s just. her awkward self around everyone but that’s endearing and is just part of her personality . and i think a lot of the anxiety stemmed from childhood. we heard a few times about how prue and phoebe had boyfriends growing up, were always pretty and popular and all. phoebe was popular, too, just, in the other crowd. but nonetheless, piper faded into the background, doing well in math - well enough to go off and be a banker . and like. she sacrificed a lot for grams. she stayed in san francisco ... we all know the girl had the marks for stanford or something . like. though . still, i think she liked the stability of home and prob would’ve stayed . but in 3x17 she’s all !!! grams !!! the doctor said no caffeine !!! and when grams was taking the pic of them outside and she had an episode , piper was all !!!! shallow breaths !!! like. it was clear piper was the one taking her to the appointments and footing the bill. like. she literally became a banker just bc it had benefits n stuff. like. poor girl really thought . anyway that’s a whole spiral. but no. like she really sacrificed The Most for her family and everyone still thought she was selfish for wanting to move out . when like back then grams was literally ... sick ... and prue was out here moving out and phoebe was nowhere to be found . so. that . definitely would have added to her anxiety about even wanting to do anything for herself because she’ll be perceived as selfish in a heartbeat. even if it’s not Mean . it’s just. she’d never risk it. but there’s the anxiety. there are a few lil things here n there about how she gets nervous n stuff, she represses things (3x07 i think was where phoebe said piper represses her anger n just sucks it up n does whatever) . she literally cancelled her doctor’s appointment Twice . anyway. it still angers me. then in season 7 . patty and victor were like . oh she had night terrors that were so bad we took her to the doctor ! and i just ... honey . baby. she thought she caused the divorce. at 4? 5? she watched victor leave on her 5th birthday, watched a demon attack her, grams, and victor. prue said she didn’t cry at patty’s funeral and i’ll make a safe bet that piper did. and i think growing up without patty was strange for sure. prue had more memories and phoebe had none. and piper had fragments of this person everyone loved . and she was stuck between knowing her and not knowing her. and when patty was sent to her for her wedding day, (as well as in 1x17) . both times when patty hugged them . prue and phoebe hugged her, eyes closed n all. while piper was on the outside, eyes open . looking numb as all hell . and you know. i rlly think she was Giving Them That because phoebe didn’t get her and prue kinda . in a way. lost more of her . if that makes sense ?? and i just. patty really was like . they sent me to You. and 5 seconds later . piper’s like . they sent mom to Us !!! and it’s that idea of sacrifice and never having anything for yourself because she was never just . given anything for herself . everything in her life has been a sacrifice and as a mother, that’s perpetuated. she can assume that role with more of a purpose . like. people won’t really feel sorry for her now as the “forgotten” sister, they won’t try and coddle her or anything. and another thing. control. piper craved stability and control. i think while cooking was something she loved, it also gave her a lot of control . she could control her whole kitchen . even in season 8 .. maybe vaya con leos actually . leo mentioned how much piper craves control. and the control motif makes sense with her powers too. like. piper craved control so much that her powers allowed her to control things down to the atom. so there’s the whole anxiety and needing to control things to ease her anxiety and all. there’s That whole thing.

and then we get to the infamous season 5 fearless spell . ms girl really sat in the attic just writing everything on the wall and it’s the way i screenshotted it and like . zoomed in and tried deciphering it . and like . there’s words like “stop” and i think “sister” is in there a few times, so is “loss” or “lost”. when i watch it next i’ll grab a cap because it’s . disturbing. girl was so scared . literally was writing a spell to get rid of her fears . she also writes Fear . as in. capital F . and like. yeah that’s deep but i do it too like i emphasize words with a capital letter . and like holly marie combs might just have quirky n fun writing but like ... capital F . for Fear. for real . that’s . trauma !!! and she also was having panic attacks at the beginning of season 5. let’s not forget those. which ... we should’ve gotten more of an explanation for . i hope that girl is getting help bc she was Going Through It . and in season 7 when zankou reads her diary . firstly. we Knew this girl kept a diary like . for Sure . she did. and just that little excerpt of when prue died . oops. i’d pay big money to see the rest because again i just think she’s got such a complex mind and like. i’d be so interested to read that. and i think everything re: prue is just Awful for her. like . idk if this is just something quirky i noticed but obv we know prue died in may 2001 . but at the end of 4x03, when piper goes 2 paige’s work 2 bring her muffins !! soft !!! the calendar on one of the desks reads july 2001 ... and i really just. ms girl. i Know they prob just filmed the ep in july but it honestly tracks that she’d be so awfully upset about everything and just . barely able to do anything but cook . for 2 months. like. honey. baby. i wanted 2 just cuddle her bc she was so sad. and like. she tells paige she’s having “good hours” and “not so good hours” . she’s going by the Hour . by the Hour . just. need i say more . i’m so . but no like. if anything like i could see her having like . depression where she’s high-functioning and like just . walking depression i guess ?? like . not even after prue. i think in general. like . she definitely has a melancholic temperament and a type 6 enneagram (the skeptic). that’s For Sure . but i think. just. she’s always just had time to think bc she’s always alone, reading, knitting, cooking, tending to her plants, all that. and i just . think. she has issues. and i think prue knew that. of all people. and i think her knowing that . and then dying. destroyed piper. she lost the last person that was truly a constant in her life . like they shared a roof over their heads forever. and then she was just . gone . and piper was suddenly left to pick up the pieces . and become the oldest sister . and i’m So glad she didn’t fully assume her personality. i’m glad she stayed as piper . just. she’s more cynical and snarky and defensive and cold and that’s okay. she’s hurting. she’s always gonna hurt . and i think it makes her human . she’s pessimistic and sad and has a short fuse at times . but just. again. i love her to bits and i think those issues make her more relatable for me. because while many like to say she became selfish and a negative person and just . awful to be around . i’d say the opposite . i won’t sit and apologize or justify things. also i don’t think piper’s done anything wrong . i just think she’s hurt. she’s been wronged so many times. and she’s .... scared. i think she’s scared . and in season 5 “sympathy for the demon” we learn her true biggest fear is her happiness being stolen away. and like . it’s not that she’s scared she won’t be happy. she’s scared all of the good she’s got will be taken from her . and that’s . terrifying . so . i see why she’s so snarky and bitter and tired and all . she’s terrified of things being taken from her like they have been her whole life. and as i watch the show i really like to just keep that in mind as i get further and further in because yes. she did become a mother and a wife and we saw her arguing with leo a lot and their marriage falling apart and That Whole Era . we saw how it kind of took over her life but i think it happens . i think she even said at one point . i’ve been so many things to so many people, i don’t know who i am anymore . and i think it sums her up perfectly. she doesn’t know who she is because she’s someone to everyone . she’s just. nobody to herself except this scared little girl who just wants Something . Anything . to make sense . some Stability . and her babies, her husband, and her sisters . are all she has for that idea of stability to make sense in her mind. and it was an easy hole to fall into - the Mother - but i think she jumped in. because at the Very Least . nobody could take that title away from her . regardless of how hard they tried .

#i really cannot believe i did an entire ted talk #like did anyone actually read this #if you did . wow #piper halliwell deserved better #tw: mental health #tw: depression #tw: anxiety #tw: panic attack #but no listen #she deserved so much better #holly paid rent #ask me #charmed #ramble #💌

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heartofsnark · 3 years ago

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Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Twelve): Your Demon, Never Leaving

Notes: Soooo, its been a minute, like I said, been kind of sick. And I've been sitting on this chapter for a while, I was gonna wait until I finish the next. But decided, fuck it. We're still rocking around the angst train with this and I'm sure some of you are like, when is Johnny gonna be let out of brain jail and the answer is soon, next chapter, promise. Our girl just needs some time to process and what better way to do so, then to get into a fist fight and talk to some folks.

Word Count: 11873

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and mentions, bit of blood and violence, general angst, some talks of sex but no actual in chapter sex.

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V finds herself in Westbrook next, kicking herself for forgetting that Wakako never paid for the Dorsett job. The sun’s barely been up but an hour by the time she makes it to Jig Jig street, the merc preoccupying her time by pouring more energy drinks from a vending machine into her thermos. A quick hack used to get them for free.

She leans against the wall of the pachinko parlor while she waits, someone passing by offers to sell her drugs and a joytoy tries to flirt with her in the meantime. Both swiftly denied and the merc jumps when she sees the parlor lighting up, Wakako likely already tucked in her back room. She slides on her mask as discreetly as she can before she walks across the blue tiled floors and past the desk clerk, who shoots her a dirty look.

Past a beaded curtain, she sees Wakako at her back desk. A slick black and gold color scheme that seems completely at odds with the gaudy vibrancy of Jig Jig street. Wakako is one of the older fixers, V would wager to guess she’s at least Padre’s age, with long gray hair pulled back off her face and cold shrewd eyes.

“Well, well,” the fixer greets, “who do I spy but V, in my humble parlor no less.”

“Here in the flesh, never did answer my call,” V can’t help but sign, thankful her bitter smile is hidden behind her mask.

“I must have been busy, I’m sure.”

“Of course.”

“So, what brings you here?” Wakako asks, tapping her red nails across the wood of her desk.

“Last gig, said I had to swing by to grab my payment, remember?”

“I don’t forget such things, V. Here is your reward, it comes with a fairly ample bonus. Go to Cassius Ryder in Watson, he’ll weave you a derma-imprint with smart-gun compatibility, a Tyger Claws special. You did good work, you and that… friend of yours.”

“Appreciate it,” V signs, feeling her muscles tighten at the mention of Jackie. Then the money comes in, over three thousand, not bad at all. But, she could still use a bit more before she pays back Vik. If she completely drains her bank account for him, Vik will throw a fit.

“And V,” Wakako calls out before the merc can leave, “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for your calls from now on.”

V simply nods, unsure of how to take the comment as she leaves the pachinko parlor. Wakako is hard to read, that much she knows. Everything the woman says seems to drip with poison and sarcasm. She could wish V could morning and the merc would wonder if it’s a veiled death threat. Kindness and cruelty sound the same coming from Wakako. Meaning the statement could be a cruel taunt regarding V’s ruined reputation or it could be genuine, that somehow the merc has built back some of it. She has been going hard the past three or four days, refusing to do much else. Deciphering Wakako will only drive her crazy, V determines, leaving Jig-Jig street and climbing in her stolen MaiMai.

The fight in Kabuki is worth at least two grand, meaning if V’s lucky enough she can finish it up and pay Vik back while still leaving around… two grand in her bank account. Not much, but she’s worked with less. If she loses, she’ll just have to make it back in more scanner jobs, she supposes. Or start selling some stuff.

She parks near the coordinates Coach Fred sent her. V pulls off her mask, it could be considered unfair, fighting with a face cover. When she gets out of the car, she catches a flash of something in the side mirror, breath catching in her throat. Thinking it’s a flash of dark hair and a beard, think it’s him, she looks again. But only sees her reflection, granted, she looks like she’s already been fucked up in a fight.

Her hygiene has… suffered during this ordeal. Nose bruised to hell and back, looking a little crooked she realizes. There’s blood and dirt on her face, the worse of it down her lips and chin. She smells like sweat, blood, and still vague hints of stagnant water. Wakako probably smelled V before seeing her.

The merc first takes a deep breath, grabs her nose and cracks it back into place, setting it as pain shoots through her face and tears blur her vision. . She curses, giving herself a moment before she goes looking through her bag for wet wipes or antiseptic ones, something to give herself a quick whore’s bath. But finds nothing, her supplies needing a restock.

In a pathetic attempt at something, she spits onto her hoodie sleeve and tries to scrub some blood off with the drool. Only managing to smear the dirt and blood into a new pattern. As far as she knows, no one she cares about will be at the fight. She’ll shower before she sees Vik. For now, she’ll just be gross. Too exhausted and overwhelmed to care about how strangers view her hygiene.

She takes three heavy drinks of energy drink and makes her way to the feet, down a set of stairs that run next to the overpass, walking across cracked cement through patch work metal shacks. Up a little yellow ladder and climbing over air conditioning units. Even getting to the fight has to be an ordeal it seems.

V can see the backs of people, on one of the other rooftops involved in this little parkour endeavor. A crowd gathered around and she has to assume that’s where the fight is. A little set of metal steps up to the slightly higher platform. When she walks up the stairs she can see the crowd is around a clearing on the roof; two identical men squaring off. She half expected a Tyger Claw gang member, given the area is their turf. But the men look fairly nondescript, twins who box, she supposes.

“This is pointless, I know where I’m gonna strike before I do it,” one of the men say, fist raised to his brother, though the wording seems off. Of course, one would know where they’re going to strike. Brain damage too many blows to the head, maybe.

“Typical, I knew I’d say that.”

She raises an eyebrow but shakes her head, and clears her throat. The men straighten up, two pairs of brown eyes staring straight at V. They’re older than her, which isn’t saying much, with bald head and implants around their heads. Completely identical, only thing to separate them out is their clothing; one is a tee shirt and the other in a tank top.

“Was told I have a fight here,” V signs, “so, which one of you is it?”

“Me,” the men speak in unison and V blinks, confused.

“Didn’t know it was a tag team fight, but alright, who’s up first?”

“No, no,” the one in the t-shirt waves his hand, “you don’t get it. That body and his one, I’m the same person.”

“I’m seeing shit then?”

“I used to be twins, which you could probably guess. The twins had a close bond, but they wanted to be closer, stronger. “

“So they installed neural oscillation synchs. And now they’re… well.”

“Me, one person, two bodies,” the twins finish in unison again.

And here she is, two persons, one body. Whether she likes it or not. The whole tale is horrific to the merc, unable to understand why anyone would willingly undergo something like that. She has a twin, Eira, and despite everything that’s happened, V loves her sister dearly. But, she can’t imagine ever wanting to merge themselves together, to want to lose herself. Its part of why what’s happening with the chip is… horrifying. She doesn’t want to be something else, someone else. V is far from perfect, but, she’s her. As many times as she’s wished to be better, she’s always wanted to still be her.

These two willingly signed up for the horror show, V’s enduring, just split across two bodies. They wanted to be someone else, to morph into some new amalgamation of who they once were.

“So, I’m fighting you both at once?” She asks, trying to get out of her own head, to focus on the here and now.

“My bodies do everything together. Everything,” the pair speak with finality and V can’t help but smirk at the implication. How far does everything go?

“Everything? Even in the bedroom?” She signs, waggling a brow and can feel the immediate annoyance.

“I have one girlfriend for both bodies, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Shared between both.”

And it takes everything in her not to laugh, a smile pulling at her lips and face flushed at how stupid it is.

“So, what. she gets a daily double teaming?”

“No. She’s with one body from Monday through Wednesday and the other Wednesday through Sunday. Bitch.”

“You take shifts?!” V bursts, the entire ridiculous nature of it is exactly what she needed, cracking up at their whole situation.

And maybe it’s mean to laugh, but she can’t help it, holding her stomach as she cackles. The insult more than worth it to know these two have their girlfriend on a sex schedule, that they take shifts for fucking. They have fuck shifts, how is she meant to handle that information?

“We doing this or what?” The twins yell, obviously not amused by her outburst.

“Yeah, yeah,” she signs as she comes down, “but we’re doubling this, four grand.”

She was already at a size disadvantage, the twins not huge, but taller than her. And now they’re outnumbering her as well, it’s already high risk, so she needs higher reward. The twins consider her deal for a moment, before nodding to each other.

“Fine, see no problem there. So, can we get started?”

“Show me what you got.”

And three pairs of fist raise. The twin the tee shirt moves towards her first and she steps up to meet his charge, swinging the first punch and knocking her knuckles into his head. And then she steps back, grin on her face. Its been a long time since she’s sparred, a good clean fight with just fists and no weapons, it feels good.

She throws another punch and misses, the same twin comes back in to hit her, but she connects another punch first. He staggers back, but swings at her, a hard pain wracking her jaw when he connects. V blocks the next swing and momentum makes him twist around, letting the merc get a cheap shot against his back. Then another as he twists then she connects a right hook to his jaw; three hits in rapid succession, he stumbles back. He hits the ground. Then the other twin comes charging.

V throws a right hook into the force of his run, catching just the right way to make his nose bleed. She swings for a left jab but the tank top wearing twin ducks and steps back, the one in the t-shirt is back on his feet.

Tank-top comes at her again, right fist hitting her temple and she throws her own in return, knuckles catching his ear. She misses with her left and he brings a knee up, knocking it into her chin, making her teeth clang together as she bites her tongue in the force. He swings another punch and she deflects with her left forearm, punching her right into his face. He falls back.

T-shirt comes at her next and gets punched in the eye, blackening under her fist. She connects the next punch to the opposite cheek, knocking into his nose. He stumbles back and wipes blood from his nose.

The other twin swoops in, he acts like he’s going to knee her again, then swings a fist and catches her already injured nose. Pain cracks through her, but she laughs and throws a punch in return, connecting two more hits against him. Twins switch out again, t-shirt twin kicking her in the gut before throwing three quick hits. Then he shoves her back, only for her to push back and throw two more punches. And he’s down. One half done, she turns her attention back to the twin in the tank top.

He tries to keep distance from her and she waits him out, fist raised. And after a quick moment of dancing around each other, he runs at her. A punch to her head, a swing to his own, and she connects one more to his chest. And he hits his knees. V stares for a moment, unsure if she really just won a bare knuckle fist fight against two grown men?

“Stop, stop, I give up!” One twin yells and gets up, face bloody as he walks to the railing. V looks down at the other twin.

“You got more fight in you or had enough like your brother?”

“That ain’t my brother,” he yells as he gets up, “that’s me. Jesus, what’s so hard to understand?”

One leans against the railing and the other sits on a table by a couch, each with fresh blood and bruises on their faces. She finds herself standing before them, mind still revisiting the twin’s dynamic and situation. Melding yourself with someone else, even someone so close, she can’t even imagine being that close to someone. Even her own sister, she has a strained relationship with. She’s going into this situation with the chip kicking and screaming.

“Here, your winnings,” the twins eyes glow as they transfer four grand into V’s bank account.

“Not bad at all.”

“Don’t worry, there’s always the next fight,” one twin tells the other.

“Stop talking to yourself!”

V can’t help but smile at the odd exchange, “Thanks for the fight, it was fun just sparring for once, I’m V. By the way.”

“Certo,” the one in the tee introduced himself.

“Esquerdo,” the other chimes in.

“I know I kind of razzed on you earlier, just your situation is… interesting to me,” she admits, genuinely a part of her just wanting to ask a bit more about it. The twins must not have been perfectly alike, not anyone is, then they melded together. She can’t help but think of the ghost in her head, the man she’ll meld into, the fear of it.

“If you’re here to pry more into my sex life, piss off.”

“No, no, not that. Do you two read each other’s thoughts?” She asks, Johnny responded to her thoughts in the subway, assuming it was him and not an exhaustion induced hallucination.

“No. Same person. Same thoughts.”

“If that weren’t the case, I’d be on schizoid meds.”

“Yeah, be weird having someone else's thoughts in your head… Would drive anyone crazy. Speaking of, wasn’t that, I don’t know… scary.”

“What?”

“Melding together like that, becoming one person. Because like… you’re no longer you, right? You’re a new combo, wasn’t that terrifying, to lose yourself?”

“Not really, everyone’s always becoming someone new. Brothers knew each other well enough, loved each other enough, they knew they didn’t mind becoming each other.”

“Strange… no offense.”

“Why you so curious about it?”

“I don’t know,” she stumbles for a response that makes sense, can’t explain she’s thinking about the ghost in her head, “I got a twin myself, actually. Love her, but life took us to different places. Can’t imagine… becoming part her, part me.”

“You don’t though, you just become something new, the best of both of you.”

“Interesting, uh, I won’t hold you up any longer. See you around.”

V heads off and makes her way back home, guzzling energy drinks along the way, stinging the new bite mark in her tongue. She passes by Barry’s apartment on the way to her own, she’ll grab a shower, she decides before she talks to him either. Showing up at a former cop’s doorstep covered in blood and sweat sounds like a bad idea.

The merc strips down as soon as she’s in the privacy of her apartment and makes a beeline for the shower, Hot water a godsend even as it stings her cuts and bruises, the heat relaxing her tightly wound muscles and the ache in her head. Her eyes drifting shut, body relaxing. A blink that lasts a second, maybe a minute, or two too long.

Then pain shoots through her tailbone as she crashes to the wet shower floor, falling right onto her ass. She curses beneath her breath and gets back onto her feet, finishing her shower quickly before she falls asleep again. The energy drinks are cutting it less and less, three days without any sleep, other than long blinks.

She checks her tongue in the mirror thankful the bite didn’t tear at her piercing, and sighs as she takes a look at herself. Still bruised, but no longer bloody or dirty, dark bags have formed under her eyes and she’s paler than before. Her headache has become a constant throb she can’t get rid of, ears irritated from the rub of her hearing aids, the pain in her joints is equal parts overexertion and neglecting her immunosuppressants, the familiar burn of her disease flaring up.

If Vik and Misty see her like this she’ll never hear the end of it. It feels like lying as she grabs up her foundation and concealer. She laves on a heavier layer of makeup than she’d usually do, applying it until she looks a little more human, a little more awake and put together. After everything she’s put them through the last thing she needs is to cause them any more worry.

V throws on some clothes and makes up a new fresh batch of her caffeine cocktail before she leaves out again, fiddling with her bullet pendant as she makes her way down the stairs. She knocks on Barry’s door, trying to get the neighbors attention.

“Hey, you home?” She signs, turning the volume up a little on her translator, hoping he’ll hear.

“Who is it?!” A rough voice yells out.

“V, your neighbor, remember? We talked about rides, You were all worked up over the newest Mizutani. I said it was for flash-posers.”

“Heh,” he chuckles behind the door, “you don’t forget a gonk thing like that.”

“You gave me this look, I was about to run back to the Badlands right then and there.”

The door finally opens, showing Barry, just as she remembers the older man. Dark crew cut, over a foot taller than her, with tattoos across his biceps. He leans against the door frame, looking down at her by necessity.

“I remember, what do ya want?”

“To talk, I know that’s what you need right now, even if you don’t realize it. I can’t turn back time or magically make everything okay, would if I could, promise. But.. if nothing else, I’m good for a chat, hear you out as best I can, and make sure you know you’re not alone.”

“Now hold on a sec,” he makes her pause, the heaviness of it taking him off guard, “we barely know each other, and you just rock up here talkin’ to me about my problems? Where’d you get the idea something with me was up? You watchin’ me? Somebody send you?”

“You got me, your buds from the station asked me to drop in. I figured, why not, decent guy even if he’s got shit taste in rides,” she signs, with a teasing smile.

“Come back just to get your ass kicked?” His grin makes her snicker, “man, you really know how to cheer a guy up. Maybe those two asshats really are worried about me… All right, come on in. You wanna talk, let's talk.”

Barry leads her into the apartment, it’s layout a little different than her own. Most notably where her window stretches across the wall, he has none, with a couch against it instead. The apartment dark and gloomy without the sun being able to touch it, her boot knocks into an empty can, one of many. There’s trash across his floor, discarded takeout boxes, bottles, cans. Has he left the apartment since she spoke with his friends? Has he locked himself up in here for the past three days?

He sits down on the couch and V plops herself on the table in front of it, careful not to sit on his ashtray or nearly empty pizza box. She wants to be able to make eye contact and she knows human voices are far more comforting than AI ones, turning off her translator.

“I lost someone, too,” she hates the scratch in her throat, the slight widening in Barry’s expression as he hears her speak for the first time, “he was my best friend, a good man.”

“What do you mean ‘too’? Wait, this about Andrew? They… told you about him…”

“Yeah, I know it ain’t easy, losing someone like that.”

“Best bud I ever had… known him my whole life. Only person I could spill to without being judged.”

“Take it Petrova and Mendez weren’t that great at listening?” She raises an eyebrow, Mendez seemed like a genuine dickhead, but Petrova was nice. Surely, she wouldn’t have minded hearing Barry out, given how worried she seemed. Barry shrugs his shoulders.

“Petrova’s a decent gal, but she’s not good with this stuff. Mendez just doesn’t get it He thinks us blues need to be tough. Can bear the sight of a kid getting murdered? Born with pussy genes, according to him,” Barry tells her, the crestfallen expression telling her those are exact words from Mendez.

“You told them about Andrew, though?”

“Honestly? I thought about it a lot. Anyway… they don’t know everything. Better that way,” his soft nearly whispered tone tells her there’s more to this, something he doesn’t want them to know Or maybe he’s just like her and prefers to keep his cards close to his heart.

“What exactly happened with Andrew? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Does it matter? Uh,” he rethinks when he looks at V’s face, “old age took him…. No wonder, seeing as he was only a few years younger than my grandma.”

“I know it doesn’t make it hurt any less. But, Andrew had a long life with a good friend like you sticking by him through most of it. No better way to go, if you got to. And in Night City of all fuckin’ places? That alone deserves a fuckin’ monument.”

That makes Barry smile, a soft laugh tumbling from his lips, “ashbox in a niche will have to do.”

“So, was Andrew like a grandpa to you?”

“Hm. Wouldn’t go that far. He was like… egh. I don’t know. A window into the past or… something. He reminded me of my gram-grams, about our little talks… time when everything had its proper place, y’know? He was the last living record of those times.”

“He clearly meant a lot to you, it’s only natural losing him is gonna hurt. Mendez is full of shit, to be blunt. Life and loss is hard, really fuckin’ hard. And feeling that hurt doesn’t make you weak, makes you human.”

Her throat feels tight as she speaks, each word making her feel more and more like a hypocrite. Preaching the importance of feeling out your hurt while hiding from her own. She can still taste gunmetal, feel the weight of the barrel on her tongue as she willed herself to pull the trigger. Talking a man off a ledge she tiptoed no more than a few hours before. And it’s not that she doesn’t mean what she says, but she can’t give herself the same kindness she affords him.

“What if he’s right though?” Barry asks, eyes big with worry, “maybe my genes are soft? Don’t only the strongest survive?”

“Losing people hurts. And that’s okay, doesn’t make you weak, and ignoring it don’t make you strong. If you felt nothing at all, then his loss wouldn’t have any meaning. You lost someone you cared about, who was there for you most of your life; anyone with a heart would be hurting right now.”

“I guess… so. Thanks for the talk. I, uh, need time to take all this in.”

“Alright, take care of yourself,” she stands from the table, “and if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

She leaves Barry’s apartment and lets out a soft sigh, rethinking what she told Barry, wondering if she handled it well. Taking in how it applies to her. The words she can easily speak to someone else, but not to herself. Feeling hurt doesn’t make her weak, just human. Painfully, disgustingly, revoltingly human.

V shakes her head, making her way out of the apartment complex and taking the NCART down to Buran and Bradbury. Walking down the family little cluster of storefronts, pass strippers dancing in windows, where Gary the wannabe prophet sleeps on some abandoned filthy mattress, and into Misty’s store. Her heart jumping in her throat when she sees the older woman.

“V!” Misty calls out, green eyes brightening and a breath of relief leaving her chest, “its been a minute, got worried about you.”

“Nothing to worry about, just been, busy… Actually, wanted to see Vik, got a debt to pay back.”

“Hmmm, c’mon then, I’ll walk you back.”

“I think I know the way by now,” V signs with a raised eyebrow. Misty isn’t going to start babying her now, is she? Sure, V got hurt and is in the shit right now, but that doesn’t make her any less of a grown adult.

“You’re the first customer to walk in today and I’m bored out of my mind, just give me this,” Misty jokes and V feels bad for doubting her intentions, though there's still something in the way the older woman looks at the merc. More akin to a worrying mother than a friend.

“Alright, whatever you want.”

The two women leave out the back of Misty’s store and into the back alley, V searches for the bald little cat she pet last time she was here, but it’s gone now. Misty leads the way down the stairs to Vik’s clinic, the ripper doc in his usual spot at his desk.

“Someone’s here to see you, Vik,” Misty announces as they walk through, the older man looking up to see V. A smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes pulls across his face, more of pity than happiness.

“Hey, kid, how you’ve been?”

“Getting by,” she shrugs, “more importantly, I got the eddies to pay you back.”

“What is this?” He asks as she starts to transfer the seventy thousand.

“Optics, mantis blades, and the launcher; all adds up. That’s the best estimate I could ge. If they cost more than that I-”

“Hold onto ‘em,” he waves her off, “just in case. You need ‘em more than me.”

“Not taking them to my grave, Vik, please, it’s the least I can do.”

His jaw clenches, gaze dropping; “twenty-five thousand, I’ll won’t take a dollar more”

“What? That’s not even half?” V blinks incredulously, can see Misty smiling at the exchange.

“Covers the mantis blades; you didn’t ask for the optics or launcher, seems fair to me.”

“Even if I didn’t ask for ‘em, doesn’t mean they didn’t cost you a pretty penny.”

“Not worried ‘bout it, spend the money on yourself.”

“Vik, seriously, there’s no point in me keeping it.”

“Six months is longer than you think, V,” his voices rises, a hint of frustration, “I’m not letting you throw that kind of cash away just because your-”

And he stops himself, before he can says what they all know. Just because she’s dying. Her jaw clenches and she swallows hard. Trying to search for how to respond, how to deal with that.

“I know you wanna pay him back, but Vik’s just trying to look out for you, V. Never hurts to keep some money in your account and besides, you’ve got way more than six months left in your,” Misty says, trying to smooth over everything. Her concern and worry always softer spoken than Vik’s.

“It’s not just because I’m dying, you’ve done a lot for me over the years, want you to have something to show for it.”

“That’s what friends are for, V.”

“Fine, fine, never had to beg someone to take my money,” she jokes, sending a transfer for the twenty-five thousand instead.

“Other than that, how have you been?”

“Already told you, getting through, not much to report.”

V shrugs her shoulders again, wondering why he’d ask the same question twice. And she can the clench in Vik’s jaw, the somber downward pull on Misty’s expression. They don’t believe her. And she can’t blame them for it, because she knows its not true.

“And how are you really feeling?” Misty asks, softly.

“I… is there anyway we could talk about Silverhand and the chip?”

“I’m no expert, but fire away, I’ll see what I can do.” Vik tells her.

“I’m seeing him, I saw him, again. And I hear him, even without my hearing aids, is that? Is that normal, I none of this is fucking normal what am I talking about…” She rakes a hand through her hair, cleaning her jaw.

“Well, that biochip is designed for users to communicate with constructs. It's just doin' its job. As far as hearing goes… Johnny’s in your brain, not your ears. You're deaf because the autoimmune disease destroyed your inner ear, but the Relic bypasses that and stimulates the auditory processing part of your brain like he’s actually there talking to you.”

“So, my brain treats him like he’s real, even though he’s not?”

“I mean, he is real, he’s a person,” Misty softly corrects, “just a person in your brain.”

“He’s data on a chip,” Vik corrects Misty in return, earning an eye roll for his troubles. V can’t say she gives too much of a shit about the philosophical aspect, more just wanting Johnny not to choke her out.

“He… tried to kill me,” V admits, both Vik and Misty’s eyes going wide.

“What!?”

“Oh… V.”

“Tried to put my head through my window. It… he… felt real as anyone else. He wants to kill me, I think, I don’t know what to do.” V can feel her eyes stinging again, tears threatening to escape, as she finally puts her anxiety out into the world.

“Well... long as you don't give him control, can't do too much harm. 'Course that won't necessarily be possible after some time.”

“And… what then?”

“What do you say, we don’t let things get that far? Find a way to get rid of Silverhand and fast.”

“What about his memories, why can I see them?

“You two share a brain now,” Vik says matter of fact and she wants to scream, “he has access to your senses, perceptions, even memories. Likewise, you get a look into his. After a while, won’t even know whose is whose.”

“Right…”

“V…” Misty says the merc’s name in a soft voice, “if you need to talk, we’re here for you. ”

“I need to go,” V signs and shakes her head.

She doesn’t want to deal with this. Hasn’t wanted to deal with it for days and she has no idea where she’s even going or what she’s going to do. But she hurries through the clinic gate and up the stairs, getting ready to cut through the backdoor of Misty’s shop.

“V!” Misty yells out and grabs V’s shoulder, all too reminiscent of the merc’s exchange with Cecelia the night before. Women who’d be better off worrying about someone else, spending their time worried about V.

“I can’t do this right now, Misty, I’m sorry.”

“You can’t run yourself ragged, honey, you’ll kill yourself before the chip does.”

“And is that really such a bad idea?!” She blurts out without truly meaning too, at her ropes end, because she can’t do this anymore.

“You don’t mean that, V.”

“Why not? I can’t fuckin’ live like this! I haven’t slept in three days, I’m fuckin’ terrified that I’m gonna wake up and it’s not gonna be me! That he’s gonna take over and kill me in my sleep or, or, if it’s not him, it’s gonna be his memories, his life, that I’m gonna lose a piece of me and not even know which one! I survived, but maybe… I shouldn’t have… ”

Her voice trails off, becoming choked and pathetic as a dam threatens to burst. Tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, threatening to break lose. But she doesn’t want to break down in front of someone. A few people in the alleyway give her side eyes, looking at her like she’s already lost her last scrap of sanity.

“C’mon, V, we can talk more up on the roof, okay?”

Misty wraps her hand around V’s, gently tugging the merc into the elevator. And V doesn’t have the energy to fight her, holding Misty’s hand in return and following along. The warmth and kindness of the touch sinking into her bones, making her squeeze tighter just to hold on to the small gesture of affection. As the elevator starts to shake and rattle upward, V can feel her limbs getting heavier, her exhaustion pushing her to lean her weight onto Misy.

To the merc’s surprise, Misty doesn’t seem to mind her weight, doesn’t even flinch when V lays her head onto Misty’s shoulder. Instead she lays her own head over V’s for the short moment, short wispy hair tickling the shorter woman’s cheek. Misty’s warmth and affection feels like a lifeboat, rather than the innocuous touch V knows it to be.

The elevator comes to a stop and Misty pulls V up the stairs up to the roof. A place V has visited so many times with Misty, Jackie, and Vik. A cool September breeze rolling through, cooling V’s skin while the sun works to warm it. The two women sit in the little plastic lawn chairs that are put around a table. V feels like she’s sinking into it. She feels heavy and like she’s dragging her own weight. Her emotional outburst just compounding her physical exhaustion.

“I meant what I said, V. That as long as your alive there’s still hope.”

“Misty...I-”

“I can’t imagine how hard this is, I don’t think anyone could. But… I don’t think it has to be this terrible hell, you think it is. Fate doesn’t act without reason and there has to be a reason for this, for all of it. But if you…end it all like that, you’ll never know.”

“You think this is fate…?”

“I do, your soul and Johnny’s were brought together for a reason, I think you owe it to yourself and Johnny to find out why.”

“So, what, everything that happened is fate, I’m supposed to blame fate for all of this, for the heist, for Jackie, for-?”

“Better than blaming yourself, isn’t it?”

The question takes the winds out of her sails for a moment. She’s never put much stock into fate and the idea that things are meant to be, meant to happen. It sounds ridiculous to her. That the fates or some mystical pull in the universe put them in that hotel, an excuse to take blame off her own shoulders, a way to avoid accountability.

“I already had a bad feeling before you and Jackie left, the heist was on the anniversary of the tower going down, and it just happened to be Johnny on the chip. And theres your tarot reading… there’s more to this, V, I know there is. There has to be,” Misty tries to implore her to understand, to accept the idea that this was meant to be. And all at once V is reminded of something she’s wanted to forget.

“I’m sending you something,” V says softly, watching Misty’s brow furrow as she sends her the image of that SID profile, that night her door wouldn’t unlock.

“What is… is that?”

“His SID data.”

“How’d you get it?”

“Night before the heist, I tried to unlock my apartment door. Wouldn’t work, mainteance guy comes down, says my SID chip is reading as someone else’s. Sends me the data, it’s him… How the hell does that happen? We hadn’t gone near Konpeki yet, I… “

And she’s said it, put out that maybe there is a little something to this fate thing, that she doesn’t want to admit, doesn’t want to acknowledge. How cruel can the world be if this was all intended? But, she can’t quite come up with a logical reason for it. It could just be the mother of all coincidences, but that feels like a cheap explanation at best.

“V... “ a small almost incredulous smile comes across her black stained lips, “this was meant to be. You and him, merging, it’s fate. There's something the world wants from you two, just got to figure out what.”

“Its… a hell of a coincidence… “

“A higher power is screaming at you and you’re gonna turn a deaf ear?”

“Only kind I got.”

“Smartass,” Misty teases, “have you talked to him?”

“Who? Takemura?”

“No, Johnny.”

“No,” V blinks in disbelief, has Misty lost her mind, “strangely enough I didn’t feel like striking up a convo while he was trying to kill me.”

“You should.”

“And why the absolute fuck would I do that?”

“Like it or not, V, his fate and yours are one now. This is as much about what the world has planned for him as it does for you.”

“He tried to kill me!”

“And?”

“And!?” V flails her arms out exaggeratedly, the flippant response taking her back, “I didn’t appreciate it!? I…?”

Misty laughs at V’s shocked reaction and the merc can’t help but chuckle too, the entire thing sounding and feeling ridiculous.

“Did you appreciate it when Jackie put a gun to your head?”

“That’s different, Jack was just doing a job.”

“So, it’d have been better if he was being paid to do it?”

“Yes, least Jackie had a reason, dipshit just wanted to hurt me.”

“Is that what you think?” Misty raises an eyebrow and tilts her head softly to the side, halo of blonde hair bouncing with the movement.

“Is there anything else to think?”

“Not saying it makes it okay, but, Johnny woke up fifty years in the future, in the head of a stranger. Feeling your feelings, your memories, and last thing he remembers is whatever the hell Arasaka did to him.”

“And?”

“And maybe, the fear you felt that night, wasn’t all yours.”

V hums, rubbing her hands together, “I’ll think about it. Still kinda think offing myself is the easiest move, though.”

“What would Jackie say if he heard you talking like that?”

“He’d kill me first for even talkin’ like that. Tell me to pull myself together, that it’ll all work out in the end.”

“And it will, don’t know how, but it will. Just need you to want to live long enough to see that happen.’

“Fine, fine,” V sighs, “no blowing my brains out on this fine day, happy?”

“Wanting to live is about more than just not killing yourself, V. You need to sleep, eat, drink something other than energy drinks and booze. Take care of yourself and actually deal with your shit”

“But that sounds hard.”

“Is it harder than running yourself ragged and no sleeping?”

“Maybe.”

“V…”

“I’m just… scared, of seeing his memories, his past. Or, him getting a hold of me in my sleep.”

“I could watch over you, make sure nothing happens.”

“And what if he hurts you?”

“He’s still in your body, V.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t use it to hurt you, I’m not risking that,” V tells Misty, shaking her head emphatically.

“You could sleep in Vik’s clinic, no offense, but pretty sure Vik could stop your body if Johnny uses it to do anything.”

“Nah, this is my demon, no one else’s. I appreciate the chat, really, I think I need to be going though.”

“V… please.”

“I’ll sleep tonight, in my own bed, alone. Just in case, but I’ll sleep, promise,” V reassures Misty as the merc gets up out of her seat, a few ideas already fluttering around in her head.

“C’mon, I’ll get you set up with something to help you sleep, alright?”

V’s soul feels a little lighter as she follows Misty back into her shop. The older woman getting a little sleeping kit put together for the merc. Lavender oils, tea, and spray. Moonstones meant to relieve emotional tension and help her relax. V can’t help but smile at the kindness of it all, Her money refused for the second time when she offers to pay Misty for it.

“Take care of yourself, please,” Misty begs again, ruffling her hand through V’s hair.

“I’ll give it a shot, thanks again, for everything.”

“Wait,” Misty calls out, stopping V before she can head out, “you mentioned Takemura earlier, did you and him talk?”

“He called me, morning after I got back to my place, wanted me to meet him for a chat.”

“What about?”

“Don’t know, not meeting up with him.”

“V…”

“You know you keep saying my name like that it’s going to start hurting my feelings.”

“Why haven’t you talked to him?”

V shrugs, “He’s a corporate rat, can’t trust him.”

“He saved your life.”

“He also tried to kill me, which I think balances itself out.”

“If he wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here, V.”

“Corpos are tricky bitches, guy probably has some scheme up his sleeves, kept me alive so the wolves would have fresh meat or some shit.”

“V… “

“My name is starting to feel like an insult.”

“Talk to him, what’s the worse that can happen?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

Misty rolls her eyes and the two part with a quick goodbye, V feeling a little more energized, despite still being sleep deprived. She still has a few things she wants to cover before she goes home and sleep. Misty brought up something important, what Jackie would tell V if he were here to tell it. He’d want her to at least try and she owes him that much.

It's a longshot, she knows, but she pulls out her holo. Evelyn, the client, claimed she knew how to remove the chip. That was before it was damaged and V’s not entirely sure Evelyn knew half as much as she claimed too. But it’s worth a shot, prefers it to anything a corpo suit like Takemura might be offering. She calls Evelyn’s number, but an automated message tells her it’s not avaliable at the moment, V opts to leave a message anyway.

“Hey… this is V. Got the chip, I know the heist had a few… hiccups, but if you could call me back, that’d be cool.”

V huffs as she hangs up, blowing hair out of her face. She still doesn’t want to risk talking to a corpo, so she opts for her next idea. Learning more about Johnny, which feels weird to even think about. She’s not sure she buys the fate angle, not sure she really wants to ever have a chat with the man who bashed her head against a window. But, if nothing else, she wants to know more of who she’s dealing with. And while she gets his memories, she doesn’t have a good grasp on accessing them. She could look him up online and fully intends to. But, she has some other ideas in mind.

Dino is in the rockerboy scene, would know a bit about Samurai and Johnny. And despite what his faceplate looks like, he may actually be old enough to have crossed paths once or twice with the guy. The fixer may not be offering her jobs right now, but he only knows her as a V the merc when she’s wearing her mask. Without it, she’s just the girl he fucked in a bathroom stall once. Not her proudest moment, but hey, means he may entertain a conversation with her.

The trickier one is Rogue, who she knows was close with Johnny, was too close. V grimaces at a few choice memories that stand out to her. But Rogue’s the queen of fixers and has never so much as looked V’s way. It's doubtful the older woman would want some no-name merc asking about her ex from fifty years back. But, that’d be her best source to try to get some solid first hand info of how the beast in her brain operates.

The Afterlife is closer, but Dino is more the sure bet as far as talking to her goes. So, she catches the NCART into City Center. She gets off at the nearest stop, making her way through the crowd as she walks to his bar; Electric Orgasm. Because the man can’t name anything without sex being involved. The humiliation of fucking a bassist who named his band Gloryhole Bandits will truly never leave.

Her boots scuff across the black and white dirty tiles, music blaring in the bar, making her turn her hearing aid volume down. She walks past the arcade and vending machines on her left, the stage with a band playing on her right. Dino is in his usual spot, leaning against the red bar.

The fixer is taller than her by a ways, as most men are, prominent muscled biceps, one plated with bolts in an implant. Chrome in his jaw and along the back of his head, a mohawk of teal dreads and eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. An energy that suddenly seems all too familiar, a rockerboy wearing sunglasses indoors with a smug air, the attitude of a man convinced it’s his world and everyone else is just living in it.

“Hey, you,” Dino greets her with a smirk she’s never seen him without, the drag of his tone telling her he remembers her face. Or maybe he’s just remembering what her throat feels like.

“Hey,” she signs and she can see his brows furrowing, thinking for a moment. ASL and translators aren’t… particularly common. She’s the only person she knows who uses them, but Dino seems less confident in that fact.

“You finally decide you didn’t get enough of ole Dino?”

“Maybe I did, but turns out men speaking in third person makes me dryer than a desert,” she teases, climbing onto the stool next to him.

“Oh, c’mon, girl,” he wraps an arm around her shoulders, leaning in close, “don’t break my heart like that.”

“I don’t think your heart is what you’re most concerned about,” she ends her signing by tapping her finger to his chromed chin, “so any news in the music scene?”

“Nothing too exciting, a few new baby faced wannabes. We’re planning another show here in a few weeks, if you wanna pay me another visit, that is.”

“What, not a fan of the newer crowd, prefer the classics?” She pointedly ignores his invitation, she can’t deny she’s attracted to him, but fucking a bassist in a public bathroom needs to be a one time experience in her life.

“‘Course, new bands ain’t got style or soul, just young pissants hoping a guitar will help them get their dick wet.”

“Because you’re so much better than that,” she rolls her eyes and he smirks, “old school bands, like, I don’t know… Samurai, more your thing I take it?”

“Oh fuck yeah, you wanna talk style, Johnny Silverhand had fuckin’ style.”

“You ever meet him?” She signs, stomach drop at the mention of that name.

“Pssh, c’mon, little young for that. Did hit one of his gigs once.”

“So, not that young, actually,” she taunts him, because she can’t resist.

“Only as old as you feel, but...” he seems to to drift off for a moment, remembering, “that gig was fucked up, remember that much.”

“They play that good?”

“Eh, played normo. But Johnny, ‘parently he had some ‘saka suit tied up backstage. Said if they didn’t get at least three encores, he’d bash the poor bastard’s faceplate in. Like I said, he had style, kid.”

“Firstly, you don’t get to call me kid after your dick has been inside me. Secondly, that all you know about the guy?”

“What? You a Silverhand fangirl?”

“I would actually enjoy killing you for saying that,” she signs and forces a smile to her lips, to make it seem lighthearted. But just the notion of being that man’s fan has left her stomach churning and her skin crawling.

“Hehe, well how about I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

“I actually got to head out now, bye.”

V is out the door before Dino can say another word or stop her. Sex isn’t exactly a prority right now, dying taking precedent. Though she’d be lying if she said a part of her didn’t want to take Dino up on his offer. Her sex drive truly knowing no bounds.

Additionally, the merc tries to limit her amount of repeat partners; Cece and Jake the exceptions because of her own odd logic. Cece and Jake are both in their forties with kids. They’d have to be out of their mind to want anything more out of V, considering a twenty-year old merc isn’t exactly step-mom material, at least not if you give a damn about your kids.Means less worries about them wanting… more.

While less tethered than them, Dino is a grade A fuckboy with the same love them and leave them attitude, so he’s low risk as far as that’s concerned. Maybe another time, when there’s not a bomb in her head.

She takes the NCART back towards Watson, feeling a little silly for pinging back and forth between the areas. But as expected, Dino was ready to spill his limited knowledge on the rockerboy with only a little bit of needling, probably just happy to oogle the merc. Rogue will be her own problem of getting information out of, given the Queen of Fixers is a little over V’s head. Maybe she can pretend she’s looking for work, granted she knows Rogue would never work with her after her reputation tanked. But, could at least get her into Rogue’s booth and a chance to have a convo.

There’s an odd, bittersweet sense of nostalgia as she gets off a stop near the club, slides her mask on, and reaches the little enclosed alleyway that leads there. Stuck in one spot in the alley, remembering the night she met up with Jackie here, half expecting to hear him on the phone with his mother. But there’s only chatter of other mercs. She takes a deep breath and curses beneath her breath when she sees the flashy red and blue poster pinned to the alley wall, graffitied over. But the band is clear, bright red flaming oni face and Samurai underneath it.

Childish as it may be, she scratches her nail up under the corner of the poster and gets a hold of it, ripping it from the wall. An odd little sense of satisfaction at the way it tears half assedly, destroying the logo and oni head. Mild act of vandalism completed, she drops the piece she ripped up and continues on her way.

Turns the corner, through the doorway, down a set of stairs, through a pair of double doors and down another set of stairs. Fellow mercs are scattered in the hallway outside of the main doors, a few stare at her, seem to be whispering. Must be her imagination, flashbacks of the other kids in The Herd mocking her start to flicker in her mind. They’re all adults here, though,way above schoolyard rumors and bullying, right?

The same bodyguard from that night is blocking the entrance to the bar, he looks down at her and scoffs. Her jaw clenches behind her mask and her stomach drops, she really is a fucking laughing stock here now, isn’t she?

“And what do you think you’re doing here?” He mocks her and she hears some snickers, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin.

“Here to drink and talk shop like anyone else,” she signs, hoping he can’t see the nervous twitch in her fingers.

“After the shitshow at Konpeki? Not happening, get lost.”

Her face burns hot with shame behind her mask and it takes every ounce of self control not to kick him. She forces herself to turn around and walk out instead, trying to behave. Trying to ignore the side glances or the soft snickers as people watch her get turned away, mocking the pathetic little merc who thought she could still have a rep after that shitshow. The fuck-up they all blame for the heist gone bad; for Jackie and Bug being gone.

When she reaches the alleyway, alone, she pulls off her mask and puts it into her bag, tugging at her hair. Her feet stomp, anger and shame hot under her skin as she walks. She wanted to prove she was strong, capable, worthy of respect, worthy of something. And all she did was prove she’s as worthless as she always thought, as her supposed clan thought.

“Fuck!” V screams her anger out as she reaches the end of the alley, and slams her fist into the wall, feeling her knuckles split open against the wall. She follows up by kicking it, she needs another boxing match something to get the anger out.

“Need a smoke?” A sly female voice asks and leaning against the wall around the corner is Rogue. V still recognizes the much older woman from when Jackie pointed her out. And her face is still recognizable from Johnny’s memories, just more wrinkled with time. Her teal fluffed up mohawk of hair now traded for long gray hair shaved on one side. Cyberware notches along her cheeks and chrome peeking out over the neckline of her shirt. She’s puffing away on a cigarette, eyebrow raised as she watches the merc like a cat watches a mouse. Rogue is exceptionally tall for a woman and casually even in her older age, V can see the maintained muscle of her abs around a chrome inset.

Dumb luck seems to be on V’s side. Rogue, if she knows V at all, knows her as the masked merc. Which means V may be able to pass as a random civilian. She double checks and casually musses with her hair, making sure her hearing aids are covered. Rubbing at her neck but turning off her choker translator.

“Appreciate the offer, but I don’t smoke,” V tells her, shrugging her shoulders and leans against the wall, hoping her body language is as casual as she intends. Even if her own voice is grinding to the ears.

“Sure looks like you need something to take the edge off.”

“Eh, I’ll survive, always do.” V picks dirt from her bleeding knuckles, “you’re Rogue, right?”

“We know each other?”

“Boss of the Afterlife, everyone knows you,” V opts for stroking the older woman’s ego, on the off chance it makes her lips even a little looser.

“Ugh,” the older woman scoffs, V’s praise not quite hitting how she wished.

“Not all it’s cracked up to be?”

“You don’t know the half of it, but ain’t too keen on that label. ‘Boss’,” she roll her eyes, ''Makes it sound like I've got an army of greasy henchmen.”

“I mean, guy inside didn’t look that greasy.”

“Cute.” A soft sarcastic lilt colors her tone, but the slight hint of an almost smile lets V know she’s at least amused by the merc.

“So, what’d you rather be called?”

“Hmm,” she hums, taking a drag off her cigarettes before breathing out the smoke, “Good question. I'd have to think about that one…”

“Mind if I shoot another question your way?”

“Why not? But ask at your own risk.”

There’s an almost condescending bite to her voice, making it clear if V doesn’t traverse this next question carefully, she may find herself back in the landfill. Something about it… attractive, if the merc is being honest. And she’s not sure if that’s a physical attraction to the much older woman or that Rogue is… what V wanted to be. Exudes the confidence, commands respect, and is a legend in Night City; no one questions her strength or her competence. Rogue truly made it in Night City, something V can only dream of now.

“You use to run with Silverhand back in the day, right? What was he like?”

“Johnny...? Where’d that come from?”

“Seem to be as many rumors about him as there were fifty years ago. And not all of 'em gel together, figured this be one of my few chances to ask someone who actually knew the guy.”

“You a media, now?”

The ‘now’ hits V’s ear the wrong way, maybe just a slip of the older woman’s tongue. But, Rogue doesn’t know V, especially not without her mask, just some random stranger striking up a conversation. For all Rogue knows the stranger could be a media, maybe V’s worrying for nothing.

“Just curious, ain’t got to answer if you don’t wanna, both know I can’t make you do shit.”

“It's good you know that,” Rogue smirks, “Johnny was… strong, arrogant, uncompromising. He'd burn down half the city just to prove he was right. And burn the other half just for fun.”

“Sounds like…” V trails off, not completely sure of what she wants to say.

“Like a kid with a box o' matches and a can of CHOOH2.”

“Still stuck by him, though, didn’t you?” V can’t help but ask, more to herself than to Rogue, but the question bugs her. Even back in the day, Rogue was a certifiable badass, hot as all hell to boot. Yet she wasted her time on some greasy manchild?

“And how exactly would you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” V quickly covers her ass, “called him a kid, but way you say it, sounds more fond than mad, ya know?”

“Maybe, doesn’t matter, won’t speak ill of the dead, anymore burning questions or can I get on with my life?”

“I ain’t stopping you,” V says, shrugging her shoulders as she watches Rogue stomp out her cigarette and walk back down the alley towards the club.

V lets out a heavy sigh, she didn’t exactly get a great deal of information. She didn’t expect to get a biopic of the guy’s life. At the very least she got a bit of a better idea of his personality, but it’s done nothing to put her at ease. Anti-corp rockerboy, reckless, unpredictable, and destructive. It doesn’t give her much more of an idea of how to handle the guy. Misty is saying to give the guy a chance to at least talk, but god knows what he’d do if he had half a chance to hurt her again. V shakes her head, she knows Misty means well, but whether it’s fate or shitty luck, being stuck with this asshole can only mean bad news. She’d be better off keeping him under lock and key. It’s not worth the risk.

She makes her way back to her apartment at that, remembering her promise to sleep. She grabs a shower as soon as she gets home, letting the hot water relax her for a moment. Ther merc changes into comfy pajama, throwing on her slightly silly but cute plush golden brown hoodie, with little bear ears. It’s ridiculous and childish, but she loves it. The softness of it making her want to burrow under the sheets and never come up. Already exhausted and ready to sleep by the time she’s placed the moonstone in the shelves at the end of her bed cubby and sprayed lavender mist over the pillows.

Her eyes are already heavy when she lays down, half asleep already, she grabs her holo, deciding to try one more time. Evelyn hasn’t called back at all, so V sends her a quick text message. Right now, the blue haired woman is her only real lead on anything that could help. Other than speaking to Takemura and… that’s a road she’d rather not travel if she doesn’t have to.

V: We need to talk, it’s important!

[Unable to deliver message. Recipient may be temporarily unavailable.]

The merc blinks at her phone screen, yawning as she puts it aside, what on earth is going on with Evelyn? There’s no way Arasaka could have linked the heist to her is there? They wouldn’t have had a chance to track V’s call, Jackie’s phone had no correspondence with Evelyn if they got it, the bot couldn’t be linked back to her. Maybe Evelyn changed numbers and ditched town? V hopes the fuck not, but it would have been the smartest thing to do. But if so, V’s one lead is gone.

Thoughts and worries flicker through her mind, but exhaustion crashes down on her before they can run rampant, slipping into sleep. Darknesss flooding her vision.

A blanket of black then neon begins to bleeds through, brighter and brighter until it blinds.

World around her shifts and she’s no longer her but him.

Bright lights in a dingy club, the cling of sweat on skin, the weight of a guitar. Hands of flesh and chrome strum the strings, vocal chords straining as his voice screams out his lyrics. Kerry not far off to the side, the rest of Samurai behind him as they play through Blistering Love. A decent sized crowd screaming and dancing along to every note they play.

And its a soft thrum at first, the chaos that starts to erupt, but not because of the music. A steady murmur thats something is wrong, then chaos bursting forth as security starts running through the crowd. Trying to push through people, shouting over the music for someone to stop, unable to draw their guns in the sea of bodies without risk of hitting someone else.

Johnny’s gaze looks over to Kerry, confirmation that his friend is seeing this too, that the attention on them is shifting elsewhere. Samurai forced to play second fiddle to the growing commotion and when he looks back to the crowd he sees her, a woman cutting her way through the audience. Sweat stuck to her brow, a split lip with a steady drip of blood, and a wild mused mohawk of teal hair. Bloody lips pulled into a smug sneer as she ducks and dodges through the crowd, away from security.

Then that soft thrum explodes into something more, someone in the crowd throws a punch at a shoving bouncer and they throw one right back. The audience breaks out into a brawl as drunk idiots start attacking the bouncers or each other; blood spraying and teeth knocked clean out. Music stopping as they know the audience is done giving a shit about them.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ,” Kerry curses as a beer bottle smashes at the back wall behind the band, nearly nailing him right in the head.

“We better delta before the pigs get called.”

“Take care of this for me, Ker,” Johnny ignores Nancy’s warning, handing Kerry his guitar. He can see her making her way towards the door, trying to slip out in the commotion with a bouncer still on her heels. He’s not letting her go without making damn sure she knows who he is. An undeniable pull of attraction to her, to the kind of woman who can turn a crowd of drunk club goers into a battle royale.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Kerry questions him, but Johnny’s already jumped off stage and into the fray, shoving and pushing his way through people. He walks surefooted, head held high and no shame as he cuts his way through. Shutting down anyone who gets in his way however he has too; a solid left hook, silver knuckles leaving their nose a cracked mess. Slamming an elbow into someone's jaw and hearing the crack of it over the noise of the crowd. All with his eyes staying focused on her, on the flash of teal hair under neon lights.

She's nearly to the backdoor, Johnny not far behind, when a heavy wraps around her upper arm. One of the bouncers finally gaining ground and trying to wrench her backwards, though he can't manage to drag the amazon of a woman back.

"Think you'd get away with this, bitch!"

Her hand pulls back to throw a punch at the bouncer, but Johnny's hands are faster, stepping in to save the day. He slams his fist onto the bouncer's face, nose cracking and teeth gnashing under the force of the blow. The man is knocked back, the woman's green eyes glaring at Johnny, she looks pissed. Lips bloody and sneering, eyes dark with distrust. Domineering and angry in her demeanor, even while he's playing hero.

He reaches over her to wrench the door open, an excuse to be in her space, taking what advantage he can of the small height difference. She's only around an inch shorter than him, the heels of his boots extending that difference slightly.

"C'mon, no reason to stick around," he says, hand on her back as he pushes her through the door into the alley.

The night air cools his sweat slick skin, the woman quick to move away from his touch as the door shuts behind him. Silence enveloping them with the noise of the club is shut out. Johnny just takes her in for a moment; hot as all hell. Sweat clinging to her skin, freckles across her cheeks, split lip, and dyed hair falling into her face. A face cold and cruel in its expression, contrasted against the flush of exertion on her skin.

"The fuck do you want?" She asks him, glaring. Tone and attitude nasty, making him smirk. Always did like the bitchy types, more fun when someone's got a bite to them.

"Just saved your ass, wouldn't kill you to say thanks," he returns, already thinking of tasting the blood on her split lip and grabbing a handful of her ass.

"Don't need your help, rockerboy." She rolls her eyes at him, if he gets half a chance he could have her eating out of the palm of his hand by daybreak. Or better yet, could find himself between her legs before the sun comes up.

Johnny's not stupid, knows damn well the effect he has. The way he can draw people in, only reason Kerry still hangs around, maybe the only reason Samurai still exists at all.

"How 'bout a drink then?" He offers, smirk on his lips. And she groans, pissed off by the littlest thing.

"Fuck off."

He watches her stomp off, eyes drawn to her ass and the swing of her hips. But he doesn't go after her. Not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him chase after her twice in one night, instead lighting himself a cigarette. He's seen her type before, runs with the Atlantis crowd; no doubt in his mind. They'll run into each other again.

And as he breathes out a cloud of smoke, the world around him obscures. Gray filling his vision, flooding it, choking him on it. Until his throat itches, his stomach churns, pain cracking through her head… her head.

A migraine wakes V up, every single cell in her body on fire, a sharp pang in the back of her skull. Her stomach clenches and twists, tighter and tighter. When she opens her eyes, the world is shifting and glitching, swimming before her, eyes unable to focus. Every muscle in her body winds itself into knots and can’t get a deep enough breath, lungs struggling to take anything in.

Relic Malfunction Detected

The words flash across her optics as she flops out of bed onto her knees, gasping for air and retching to vomit all at once. Body unsure of what to do while everything seems to fall apart at once. She clutches at her chest, claws at her rib cage desperate to feel if her heart is even still beating, begging herself to just breathe, to just breathe.

And it starts to pass, her stomach calming down, her breathing evening out. Her muscles starting to release some of the tension. She’s still dizzy and the world is still wobbly as she wipes spittle from her lips, forces herself to stand up. V needs to do something, speak to Vik, maybe he can give her something. Do something for it, but he’s made it clear he has no idea how to save her.

She trips over herself on the way to her bathroom, grabbing at her sink for some balance. Looking down with her eyes closed as she breathes, steadying herself, waiting for the new fresh wave of nausea to pass before she looks up into her sink mirror.

But it’s not her she sees. Johnny fucking Silverhand reflected back at her, leaning his hands against her sink and staring into her eyes; glare harsh with that barely contained anger he brims with. Always looking a moment away from lashing out. And when she twists her head, his follows, as natural as a reflection. Like she’s really him.

“Jesus fuck!”

She curses and jerks back, falling back onto her ass, not even minding so long as she doesn’t have to see him. V grabs at herself again, feeling that’s her. Soft flesh, not hard muscle, skin where his chrome is. Her blue painted nails, her dumb bear hoodie, her bleached hair, and her smooth face; that’s it her. That she’s still herself. And she is; for now, But for how long?

V can’t keep doing this, can’t just wait until Evelyn answers her calls or texts back, she needs to do something. Anything. Even with popping the blockers like candy, she’s seeing him, living his memories. He’s bleeding into everything and she’ll lose herself to him before long. She can’t hide away, Jackie would want her to save herself, would want her to live. And she if she intends to do that she needs to move.

The merc rises, as she’s had to so many times before. Her reflection is her own again, still woozy from the aftermath of the relic malfunction, but she pushes through to shower and change. Collecting all she needs before she leaves the apartment, marching out of the apartment building with single minded determination towards Tom’s Diner. She’s got a date with a corpo. Maybe it’s a trick and maybe he can’t help, but he’s something. As he put it so elegantly, if she intends to live, she’s got to get back in the ring and she’s been fucking around in the sidelines for too long.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #silverv #misty olszewski #female v #aidan becker

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brokenjardaantech · 3 years ago

Text

absorbance of the deep (chapter 6: new duties)

kinda rambling for this because it's more of a filler chapter than anything.

also on ao3

To Simon, the decision to include him in the meeting was, quite frankly, absurd. They had never listened to him before and including him in anything was considered a waste of time - even when it was his own fault that his mind just refuses to focus on matters that didn’t interest him - so why now? It wasn’t like he could suddenly force himself to listen to their boring babbling after all these years but the fact was that he was dragged to school on a day that was supposed to be a holiday, so good luck to them to make him focus.

Unfortunately, his brain seemed to have other ideas.

‘After this incident, we have determined that Simon Parrell is no longer suitable for the school,’ the voice that said this was semi-familiar. The headmaster, maybe? His homeroom teacher? His subject teacher? Hell if he knew. It didn’t matter. ‘The students involved have been expelled, logically, but it will be up to you to decide if you would like your son to be transferred to schools that are… more to his speed.’

Simon scoffed under his breath, but it came out more like a usual exhale. ‘Meaning?’ he heard his mother ask.

‘A school for the differently talented,’ another voice, another new term. ‘It will be quite far away from here, though my understanding is that you’re planning to move to the city anyway?’

City? Simon’s mind snapped into a state of alertness. City meant being away from the sea, away from their home, away from Markus, and what would he do? Where would he be? What would become of him? He found himself shaking his head frantically; that, at least, was a gesture that both he and others understood. He didn’t want to go to the city; he wanted to stay here. This was where he belonged.

‘There will be no need,’ his father replied. ‘We already have plans for him.’

‘Oh?’ the first voice. ‘May I ask what it is? We can help you with the withdrawal, but you’ll have to give a valid reason.’

‘Someone will have to maintain the lighthouse when we’re gone. Simon can do it, can’t you?’

It took him a long time to realise that the question was directed at him instead of the school’s… whoever they were. What did his father say again? Right. Staying here. Not going to school. Being a lighthouse keeper. And although he wasn’t sure if he would be up to the task - his interest was in the ocean, in Markus - he would do everything to stay. So he nodded.

‘I’m glad,’ the second school voice said. ‘Good. The matter’s settled then. I trust you can handle the position transfer on your own?’

‘Yes, we will.’

His father stood so Simon did as well. He wanted to get out of here.

‘Good luck, Mister Parrell.’

He skipped all the way home, every brush of sea breeze against his cheek a caress, every crash of the shore an encouragement, a celebration of a monetary victory. His father, thankfully, left him be. They returned to a house that was half-emptied already. Simon’s things were left alone, naturally, just as the furniture and bigger household items, but the cushions on the sofa, the cups and dishes in the cupboard, even some of the soap and perishables - all the things Simon didn’t bother to notice before, their disappearance were felt acutely now. His father quickly vanished to find his wife, and when Daniel came downstairs with a bag full of things, instead of greeting Simon directly like he used to, his gaze darted away as if he was the one ashamed for once. ‘Do whatever you like,’ he said dismissively. ‘Just stay out of our way. Dad will brief you on what your work will be like when we’re done with packing.’

So he picked a spot he imagined he would spend a lot of time at: the top of the lighthouse. The giant lamp was turned off for the day, the ships having no need for extra light to guide their way while there is daylight. The door to the small office was unlocked because there was never a need to - no one would do such a boring-sounding job for such a small salary now, according to Josh - and he sat in the hardwood chair and brushed the pads of his fingers on the surface of the desk made out of the same material. Both of them were worn out but study and cool and smooth to the touch, and with only a two-buttoned keyer and a radio on the desk, Simon envisioned a spacious working environment. He fit his pointer and middle finger into the two keys and imagined them moulding into the shape of his fingers as time passed. His arms weren’t as long as his fathers so he would have to drag the keyer forward to make himself comfortable, but with the muted sound of the ocean as company always… he could get used to it.

He didn’t know how long he sat there idly tapping nonsense with the keyer along the beats of the sea until the door creaked open, breaking his solitude and dissipating the fog that he had shrouded himself in. ‘Care to use some company?’ North asked as she set a dictionary - a full-sized one this time, not the one he usually brought with him for convenience. Simon nodded and looked around for an extra chair, but North had already perched herself at the corner of the desk. ‘You know they’re abandoning you, right?’

Abandon? Simon frowned in confusion. He flipped to the page explaining the world and checked if it suddenly had a new definition - dictionaries get updated every year, after all - but no, it still meant the same thing. [they - are - just - leave - for - the - city - with - brother,] he manages to construct. [they - are - not - abandon - me]

‘But they are!’ North exclaimed, and Simon’s hands flew up to cover his ears from the loud noise. ‘Don’t you understand? They’re taking everything they can away! They’re moving for good, Simon! They aren’t coming back!’

Simon thought of all the empty spaces he would fill with his own things instead of being told no because there weren't any more places they could put new stuff into. He thought of a quiet house where there was no one whispering about him as if he wasn’t there at all. He thought of falling asleep at dawn to the music of the waves and then waking up at dusk to activate the lighthouse with Markus at his side one way or another. No more school, no more sudden outbursts from either his father or twin brother, no more being ignored by his mother. He would be free. [I - do - not - see - any - problem - with - it]

‘Your entire family is leaving you behind in this shithole and you don’t even care?’

Simon was offended. [this - is - not - a - shit - hole,] he argued. [I - have - mark - us - and - you - and - J - O - S -H]

North was quiet for a while, and somehow, that worried him more than her shouting. ‘You know both of us are going to leave sooner or later, don’t you?’

It gave Simon a pause, but it didn’t take long for him to realise that it made sense. [you - are - from - the - city - J - O - S -H - is - smart - so - he - also - goes - to - the - city - because - there - is - not - enough - here]

‘You will have no one.’

[I - will - have - mark - us]

‘What if you two break up?’

As if on cue, a sudden gust whipped past them as the air suddenly cooled down. Then Markus was scooping Simon up and sitting in the chair with the human on his lap. ‘Simon is my intended,’ he declared. ‘Nothing will separate us. Not distance, not time, and certainly not ourselves. Have I not proven myself to you, surfacer?’

North recovered quickly from the sea’s sudden appearance. ‘Sometimes I don’t even think you’re real,’ she muttered, and she was gone before Simon could explain himself.

Markus held him silently for a while. Are you alright? he asked, his voice quiet and soothing in Simon’s mind. I do not hold the highest regard for your family, but this -

I’m okay, Simon interrupted before the ocean could finish. I will be as long as you are with me.

The sea kissed him. Alright.

They were on solid ground, but somehow, for some reason Simon was suddenly too tired to wonder about, he felt as if he was adrift at sea on an enclosed raft, the endless gentle bobs and lulls that terrified most people the softest lullabies to his body. Markus held his hand in his, and despite his circumstances, Simon found himself falling asleep.

When Daniel finally called him downstairs for dinner, the ocean had retreated, leaving a long, slumbering human behind.

His father didn’t say a word about lighthouse keeping that night, but Josh did break the news to him when Simon’s parents dropped him off at his house for the last of their packing - whatever that meant.

‘I’ll be leaving for university after this school year ends,’ he said, straightforward both because there was no way to get around it and also due to Simon’s inability to understand anything more. ‘I have been accepted into one. Full scholarship.’

[how - to - spell]

Josh flipped to the page directly.

[good - for - you - congratulations]

‘Thank you, Simon.’

They read together in his room for a few short hours, during which Simon learnt quite a few new things about the ocean that he had to ask Markus to show him, and he happily asked Josh if he could borrow the book for tonight when it was time to go home.

‘Actually,’ Josh cleared his throat, ‘you can keep it. Forever.’

[why]

‘It isn’t like I am bringing all these -’ he gestured at the books overflowing from the ceiling-high bookshelves which lined three of the four walls - ‘with me. I’ll bring some, of course, but the rest are yours.’

Simon paused in his tracks and let himself take in everything. So Josh was leaving a lot behind, but why? Why didn’t he take everything with him like his family if he was leaving like them? And he asked as such.

‘I’ll come back and visit if I need the books, though I don’t think I will - the book part, of course. I’ll try to visit at least once per year.’

[for - how - long]

Josh shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Simon. It all depends on how busy I will be and how much it’ll cost to come back.’

For the first time since they met, Simon hated the answer his friend gave him. [just - tell - me - when - and - i - will - prepare]

‘You don’t have to -’

He hopes that his firmness goes through by his loud flipping, though the softened paper of the dictionary dampened the impact. [i - will]

‘Okay. Of course.’

They walked to Simon’s house together. Josh initially offered to help carry a few of the books so that they didn’t have to bring them all later at the same time and potentially needing to bother North to borrow her car, but Simon decided against it because he didn’t want to add to the mess that was already stressing him out; either that or it was in fact that so many things were changing suddenly was the actual reason. Either way, he made himself scarce for the next week while strangers entered the house and more and more things disappeared, and in no time, he no longer recognised his home, which felt both liberating and terrifying.

He slept in his cave in Markus’ arms that night and didn’t return until the evening when his family was scheduled to leave. They at least told him that much. He hadn’t known they had a large car, he hadn’t known his father knew how to drive, but these were just two more things on his to-forget list because it wouldn’t matter in the future.

‘Take care,’ his mother said, the first sentence she uttered to him directly in years.

‘Here,’ his father said, handing him a folder no thicker than Simon’s thumb and Simon’s thumb was thin. ‘This is all you need to know on lighthouse keeping.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Daniel said, and Simon didn’t know what he was apologising for. He didn’t ask his twin to clarify because he knew Daniel couldn’t stay.

Then they were gone, the car disappearing behind the slope that led to the lighthouse. Simon didn’t even notice that Markus had appeared until his legs finally buckled and he fell back against a warm chest. Let’s get inside, he heard the sea clearly in his mind. Tell me what they took away and what you need.

He turned on the lamp before starting to catalogue the things in the house under Markus’ guidance, discovering that he really didn’t know a lot about practical living, and at some point North and Josh arrived to help as well. There was a look in North’s eyes that Simon couldn’t decipher, but from the way Markus kept glaring at her while they, once more, substituted dinner with canned soup, it wasn’t anything good. Josh took the chance to stock up some of the books he was going to leave to Simon’s care, and North brought a few furniture catalogues and picked a combination that would bring colour to the house and made the place Simon’s properly; Simon let her choose for him because he got overwhelmed by the colours and examples on the small, thick booklets. With things settling down and their decisions made, they arranged two trips, one for groceries, one for new decor, and North and Josh left close to midnight with the promise that they would guide Simon through everything. Simon didn’t manage to process everything until the moment before he fell asleep in the cave, and he made up his mind to thank his friends properly before their eventual departure from the village.

The grocery trip wasn’t that overwhelming given the limited choice in the village’s grocery store and Markus’ and his friends’ calming presence by his side - despite the arguments between Josh and North that he mostly toned out of - but the furniture shopping was - how should he describe it?

Don’t do that again, he told Markus as they wheeled a cart full of new cushions and bedsheets out of the furniture store with too-bright lights and noisy customers. I hate this place.

Markus laughed visibly, though Simon wasn’t sure if it was silent in reality or not because it seemed to echo in his mind instead of being heard from his ear. I’ll find you something better next time.

‘Are you two gonna stand there all day while we do everything for you?’ North’s voice cut through the small bubble that somehow always appeared when Markus was close. Simon had half the heart to tell her that yes, everything was hers and Josh’s idea and therefore they should do the brunt of the work, but since the sea offered to help, he followed him and loaded their new purchases into the car just to return to his house and unload everything again and placing them in the correct spot. They took their time to admire their handiwork, and North proposed, ‘We should paint the walls.’

It took Josh a few seconds to formulate his answer. ‘Agreed. The colour combination will be nicer.’

[no,] Simon grabbed his dictionary and said. [do - not - like - paint - smell]

‘There’s paint that doesn’t smell.’

Simon thought of how many extra things they had to do that time his father repainted all the walls within and outside the house. He didn’t think he had the energy to do it then, but in the future… [maybe - later]

‘Sure,’ North accepted the suggestion quickly. ‘Just hit us up whenever. Not sure how much school work we’ll have in the future, but we’ll always make time for you, won’t we, Josh?’

‘It’ll be fun,’ Josh nodded.

That was the last mention of the renovation project between the three of them. With Simon’s inverted daily schedule and North and Josh’s increasing responsibility in their studies, it was difficult for all four of them - Markus included - to coordinate time to spend together. Sometimes he went to Josh’s for breakfast after spending the entire night on the lighthouse, sometimes North came to his house to do the same, and once per week Simon would stay up to have brunch with them on the beach with an assortment of snacks and food they could prepare with a camping stove. They would hang out together until Simon passed out with his head resting on one of Markus’ body parts - one way or another. He assumed that they always packed up and left afterwards, Markus carrying him back home so that he could have a good rest until the sun started to set. This happened every single week until after Josh and North had their final exam, which marked one step towards Josh’s departure.

Simon threw a party for his friend the day before the big date, or as much of a party as it could be with four people inside a house that was more patchwork than everything else. Instead of moving all the books to Simon’s, Josh merely gave him the key to his house and told him to let himself in whenever. ‘It’s easier this way,’ he said. ‘Besides, it isn’t like you’ve got a lot of room here. I trust you not to wreck my house.’

[cannot - do - it - even - if - i - want - to,] was Simon’s reply. [do - i - look - like - i - can]

‘Not on your own,’ North took a sip of her beer. He had no idea how she got alcohol in the first place given that none of them was of drinking age, but if someone could withstand alcohol, it would be her. ‘But with Markus? Yes.’

‘I promise I won’t destroy your house,’ Markus said solemnly. ‘Not unless you give me a reason to.’

‘I won’t,’ was Josh’s reply. He took a sip of beer from North’s can and was promptly sent into a coughing fit for the next five minutes.

Simon had been awake for more than 16 hours at this point so everything was hazy and blurry, but it didn’t stop him from dragging his friends for a marathon on his favourite documentary. Josh had to leave midway to prepare for his departure, but North stayed until she fell asleep on the sofa. She woke up when Simon tried to tuck her in, and she left and drove back home. Markus made them some tea so that they didn’t fall asleep, they watched over the lighthouse together and waited for ships that never came, and when the sun peeked through the horizon and turned the edge of the sky white, he leant on Markus while they walked to Josh’s house to send him off. He was too tired to feel and do anything apart from waving goodbye and watching the van drive off away from the village by then, but he woke up that night feeling empty, the events and the passage of time sinking in. Markus stayed with him until midnight, after which he returned to the ocean for his own business.

He was all alone in the world now.

It was as if Josh’s absence severed one of the lines holding their group together. There were no more canned dinners on the beach, no more trips to the library, no more squabbling over whose home they should stay at next; Simon was bad at reaching out, his body reacting before his mind did whenever he tried to get close to the school, North’s house was too far away to reach on foot, and North herself no longer seemed interested in ‘hanging out.’

‘Not everyone can be a genius like Josh,’ she snapped one day when Simon finally flagged her down out of what seemed to be pure chance. ‘Not all of us can have a job where you can fuck around all day and get a paycheque delivered straight to your bank account. Someone actually needs to work hard on their grades to get out of this place, so stop bothering me, okay? There’ll be time after this whole exam shit is over.’

But there would not be. Before the exams were apparently university applications, then came the exams themselves, then more university application things which Simon didn’t understand, and the next thing he knew was that North was leaving for the city. Back to where she came from, though he supposed whether she actually went to the city or just another village like theirs wasn’t important; the village was… the village, of course, while everything else was simply ‘out there.’ ‘I’m sorry, Simon,’ she said after he walked all the way to her house to find her, ‘but I really need to leave. You know how long I’ve been looking forward to this.’

The door slammed shut then, and it didn’t take a lot for Simon to realise that it was a cue to leave North alone. When he returned the next day to check, no one answered the door.

He didn’t even get to say goodbye this time.

Josh visited a few weeks later, having decided to actually use his summer break instead of studying this time, and he told Simon that North contacted him and told him to tell Simon that she wouldn’t come back. ‘It isn’t about you, don’t worry,’ he added as Simon continued to stare at his glass of juice. By that point, Markus hadn’t shown up in two months. ‘Village life just isn’t for her.’

[but - no - contact - at - all]

Josh did not have an answer for that, but he did say, ‘I guess this is growing up.’

Simon turned to face him. Questioning.

‘People drifting apart to do what they want now that they can. Deciding that the old life isn’t worth their effort. Moving on. Stuff like that.’

[maybe]

The space between him and Josh suddenly seemed so far now.

#simarkus #dbh simon #dbh marksu #dbh josh #dbh north #dbh daniel #detroit: become human

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cycat4077 · 4 years ago

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Reunited

Summary: You reconnect with an old college friend only to find that your past comes back to haunt you. Set during summer 2016 (S17). Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Mild cussing, some angst, some feelings and dialogue (sorry) Words: 3247 AO3 here

Part 8 of the Changes verse. Masterlist here if you're interested :) (Could probably read as a stand alone fic if you’re not into series.)

A/N: I really wanted to give my main character a friend and ‘Sydney’ popped into my brain. Also, do y'all remember back in 2015 when Sonny said he had an ex at the LAPD? Yeah, me too. So I took the liberty of using it :P Sorry this fic is kind of meh (On a separate note, the pic doesn’t necessarily mean the reader is blonde. I just thought a Sonny hug would be fitting!)

"Sydney?" you question, walking slowly up to the blonde who stands collecting her order at the campus coffee shop.

Immediately she spins on her heels and her face lights up with recognition. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaims, raising her arms to embrace you.

You and Sydney had graduated together from the master’s of education program; she, with a background in English lit and you, in biology. Despite being from different disciplines, you often worked on projects together and used your contrasting perspectives to bounce ideas between brains. As a result, Sydney became a close friend. But, as too often happens when people part ways, life whizzed by quicker than the two of you could stay in touch.

Now however, as you set foot on your new campus for a summer orientation workshop, you are thrilled to see a friendly and familiar face.

"What are you doin’ here, girl?!" she asks with the same enthusiastic energy you remember her for.

"New job!" you reply cheerfully.

"Ahh! That's awesome!" she squeals. "It'll be like old times! I've been in the English department for a few years now and I just love it."

You smile fondly. "I always knew you'd move back here.”

"Yup! You can take the girl outta the city…and all that stuff,” Sydney sweeps her silky locks behind her ear, “but I am surprised to see ‘little miss rural’ out this way!"

You raise your hands and shrug. "Me too! Though, opportunity knocked and I couldn't turn it down. Actually, this is my second teaching gig in Manhattan. I won't name names, but I got booted from my last one when a prof crawled out of retirement." You frown towards the ground, the wound still fresh.

"Bastards," Sydney mumbles under her breath. "That musta been rough, but I'm glad you're on the rebound." She offers you a hopeful smile. "You liking NYC then, since you ended up sticking around?" "It's alright. Different,” you admit. “I just moved in with my boyfriend though and he's slowly but surely converting me."

Sydney lets out another delighted squeal. During your college days she was always trying to get you to date. You told her about your past and she swore to avenge you. Unfortunately, her best efforts involved dragging you to parties and other social events where ultimately you ended up preventing her from making the bad decisions. Still, she cared about you and her genuine excitement over your relationship success makes you realize just how much you had missed her.

"I'm so happy for you! Is he cute? Is he smart? Does he work on campus?" She stretches her neck to look behind you as if Sonny is tucked away nearby.

You chuckle. "Nuh-no. He's an SVU detective. That's how we met actually." Her face falls with worry and you quickly elaborate. "I took a summer job there last year and we just clicked. He's really great." You smile proudly, stopping yourself from bragging Sonny too much.

"Aw, hon, I'm so excited for you!"

"Thanks! Hey, are you still with Geoff?"

"Hell no!" she fires quickly. "Caught that ess-oh-bee sneaking around behind my back so I kicked his ass to the curb. But it’s fine. I'm enjoying the single life and New York has just what I need!"

You smile. Same old Sydney. "Well, I'm glad you're all right and I'm thrilled we're here together! We have a lot of catching up to do! In fact, you should come by our place sometime."

"Absolutely! I'd love that!” she grins enthusiastically. “And that means I'd get to meet the man who swooped my shy science-nerdette off her feet!"

A blush creeps over your cheeks. "Did I mention he's an amazing cook?"

Sydney covers her heart like she's been shot. "You did now! So, I'll be holding you to a meal, you here me?" She glares playfully at you as she backs up towards the door.

You laugh and wave her goodbye. Sydney turns into her smiling self as she spins around and leaves.

-x-

"Wheh!" huffs the blonde standing in the doorway to your apartment. She’s just gotten her first glance at Dominick "Sonny" Carisi, Jr. "Ya didn't tell me he was such a looker!”

You swat her arm playfully. "Down girl."

"Hey there," smiles Sonny as he lumbers towards the front door. He's dressed himself in a pressed shirt and slacks for the occasion and he looks absolutely gorgeous. "I'm Sonny, nice ta meet ya," he continues, extending a hand in greeting.

"Ooh, Staten Island," she remarks, accepting his gesture. "Nice to meet ya too. I'm Sydney."

Sonny chuckles and points out her accuracy with a raised finger. "That Brooklyn I hear?" he counters.

"Sure is!" Sydney releases a laugh that’s as smooth and as charming as she is.

"Come on in," Sonny gestures towards your cozy little apartment. She steps forward, making herself at home just as she would always do when the two of you would visit somewhere new.

The evening transpires with a lovely dinner followed by story swapping, playing catch-up and allowing Sonny and Sydney to get acquainted. As the evening wears on however, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach.

Of course, it's wonderful to have Sydney back in your life – she’s one of the few people with whom you had allowed yourself to really open up. But as you listen to her and Sonny talk about growing up in the Boroughs, it's hard not to feel just a little out of place. There's so much you don't understand. So much that you don’t share in common with them. The best you can do is smile and nod along as the conversation flows.

Sydney is an extrovert through and through. She converses with others easily and can win them over with her natural charisma. Sonny too has the gift of the gab, and the pair seem to be hitting it off really well.

By now you’ve lost track of what they’re saying, instead listening to your inner voice. It's selfish and petty to be feeling this way, but there's a small part of you that is sad...jealous, you suppose. Maybe Sonny would prefer to have someone who knows what it’s like to grow up in the city surrounded by a bunch of siblings. Someone who is talkative and charming instead of quiet and shy. Not only that, but Sydney is gorgeous, with her luscious blonde hair and winsome smile. She always draws the eye of every person in a room. You don’t resent her for it by any means, it's just that you’ve never been in a relationship when she was around and so you’ve never had to worry about a significant other falling for her.

Were you that insecure about yourself that you could feel this way? That you had to worry your boyfriend, your Sonny, would be swept off his feet? It wasn't fair to either of them. Sydney has always been kind to you and you hate feeling any jealousy towards her. But worst of all, it’s not fair to Sonny. You know he loves you. He doesn't care that you’re not a supermodel and he is genuine when he tells you that you're beautiful. He loves you for who you are…No other guy has ever done that before. And that's why you're so torn up right now. You shouldn't be feeling jealous or worried, yet you are and it makes your stomach churn!

"Doll?" a soft voice startles you from your thoughts.

"Hmm?" you respond, trying to act casual.

Sydney jumps in. "We’re comparing notes on the best hidden gem restaurants around the city and Sonny says you love a little Italian spot in Tribeca.”

"Oh yeah,” you mutter. “Great alfredo."

Sonny’s brow knits, clearly sensing something is off. His blue eyes narrow and lips purse. "It's a bit pricey," he states, putting an arm around you. The action knocks you off balance as he draws you to him. "But I like ta spoil my girl from time ta time." Sonny unleashes one of his signature smiles, squeezing you ever so slightly in hopes of easing whatever seems to be on your mind.

"Aww, you two!" coos Sydney affectionately.

-x-

It's late evening by the time Sydney is thanking you for dinner and heading home. You and Sonny work in silence tidying up after your guest. And in that silence, your mind once again resorts to fabricating nagging thoughts of Sydney and Sonny. Moments are replayed with emphasis on how naturally they seemed to get along. But it’s that same silence which causes Sonny to speak up.

"What's wrong, doll?" he asks, pausing to lean up against the counter.

"Huh?" you reply with confusion.

"Somethin's up. I can tell. You were kinda distant earlier too." It’s not a question; he knows you too well.

"Nothing," you lie, trying to refocus on wiping down the table. How can you admit any of this to him?

"Tell me. Please," he begs, bending his head down to try and meet your gaze.

"I don't know,” you wring the dishtowel in your hands, “it's just…I kind of felt out of the loop sometimes tonight."

"Whaddya mean?" his eyebrows shoot up with concern.

"Well, you and Sydney hit it off so well..." Your voice trails off for a moment before you finally meet Sonny’s blue eyes. "Sydney's beautiful and charming and easy to get along with.”

“And you're not?”

The bluntness of his question hits you like a ton of bricks. “But…but she's from here,” you argue, tears starting to prickle at your eyes. “That's one thing I'll never have in common with you!”

Sonny stares at you in utter disbelief. “Doll,” his voice drops down to a soft note, “that means nothin’. I love that you're from outta town. You're more naive to the city ‘n I can see that there's still things about New York that excites ya. The lights on Broadway or the view of Lady Liberty in the harbor. Your pretty eyes absolutely light up! It’s so easy to get lost in the hustle ‘n bustle, but you remind me to stop ‘n appreciate all the little things too.”

Sonny’s now standing directly in front of you. He grabs your hands in his. “And don't even get me started about havin’ things in common.” A cheerful smile forms on his lips and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You ‘n I share odd tastes in movies ‘n we're both suckas for nostalgia when it comes ta music. But that's just the tip of the iceberg! The most important thing we share is our values. Family is priority numba one, ‘n you have no idea how long I've waited to meet someone who believes that too. It…it hurts me knowin' that you would ever doubt my love for ya.”

Those words cause you to fall apart and the tears you’ve been holding back trickle down your cheek. You cram your eyes shut, heart aching over the thought of making Sonny feel any pain. At the same time however, he also deserves to know why you still have your doubts.

You open your eyes to a warm hand caressing your cheek. It’s a gentle nudge to have you look at him. You find Sonny searching your features, so you interlace your fingers with his and gently tug him towards the sofa.

Sitting down beside you, Sonny gathers your legs to place atop of his. The closeness makes you feel safe as you mentally prepare yourself to tell all. You take a deep breath and glance up to a loving, encouraging smile pasted across on your boyfriend's features. “Sometimes I get worried that I’ll scare you off,” you tell him.

Immediately he interjects, rubbing your knee soothingly. “That’s nonsense, doll.”

“I know,” you say half-heartedly, “but it’s more to do with my own self-doubt.” Sonny’s expression saddens and he reaches out for your hand. You take it, linking your pinky with his. “Back when I was a biology student, there was this guy taking the same classes as me. He was a year or two older and we got along really well. We shared a lot of common interests. You know, movies and sports and all that stuff. It led us to spend a lot of time together during our free periods. He started doing these little things that seemed so affectionate. For instance, trying to sit tight beside me or asking to hold my hand. He paid me all kinds of compliments and even told me I was beautiful. Needless to say, I fell for him hard.” You pause, fiddling with Sonny’s finger. You had forgotten how much this all hurt to talk about.

Rubbing a hand across your forehead you continue. “One day, I worked up the courage to ask him out. But that’s when things spiraled downhill. He got really defensive and flat out said that he didn’t feel anything for me. That all the little things which I thought meant flirting were actually meaningless and, that I was crazy for thinking otherwise. To add insult to injury, he also said I was too young for him.” Sonny’s shoulders drop and he squeezes your hand a little tighter. “All I could manage was a lame ‘okay’ and left. I cried for weeks and it really threw me through a loop. I’ve been insecure about my feelings ever since. I felt humiliated and embarrassed for being fooled by his charms and for allowing myself to love him. So, I just buckled down and focused on my education, never really trusting myself to openly fall in love again. I was scared of making the same mistake – that is, until I met you.”

With your soul bared, Sonny swiftly pulls you into a hug. He holds you tight, warmth surrounding you as if he hoped it would melt away your pain. You press your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a soft kiss.

Sonny leans back, trailing his hands down your arms. “None of that was your fault, sweetheart,” he reassures. “That guy was a prick who needed ta lead ya on ta make himself feel important. Guys like that enjoy havin’ a girl’s affection, but the moment ya had the balls to tell him how ya felt he was too insecure ‘n pushed ya away. But y’know what?” he pats your arms lightly. “That’s his loss because ya have the biggest heart of any person I’ve ever met. N’ I’m lucky to be the one who gets ta be on the receiving end.”

His compliment makes you smile sheepishly. “Thank you, Sonny.” You truly love this man with all your heart. “I’ve tried not to let it affect me – affect us – but it’s one of those things that festers in the back of your mind.”

“I know,” he agrees. “It’s normal.” You watch as he looks away for a moment and swallows thickly. “I neva told ya this before, but I went through somethin’ like that myself…”

With Sonny being a chatterbox and sometimes oversharing information, it comes as a surprise that he too is guarding a part of himself. You flash him a reassuring smile, once again linking your fingers as a silent offer of your support.

And so, he begins. “I spent a year in California when I got out of the academy. There was this rotation at the LAPD ‘n I was young ‘n thought it would be really cool to get outta New York. Turns out I immediately fell head over heels for one of their young detectives. One bat of her eyelashes ‘n I was a goner. We ended up askin’ each other out ‘n life seemed great. Fancy dinners ‘n presents I couldn’t really afford. But at the time, it all seemed worth it because we were happy.” Sonny turns shy as he speaks and you feel a twinge in your gut. It had never occurred to you that he had been in love before you came along.

He looks up to the ceiling as if he dreaded the next lines of his story. “Then my contract was up. I thought we were a strong enough couple to stick together, so I asked her to be move back to New York with me. I said that we could be closer to my family ‘n that they were dyin’ to meet ‘er. But…we didn’t see eye to eye on that.” Sonny releases a sigh. “Yeah, she told me that she moved to LA to get away from family n’ that she loved it too much out there to up and leave. I was dumb ‘n in love ‘n I just didn’t get it. I offered to stay with her instead but she gave me the ol' speech: Yourra nice guy, Sonny, but we have different paces to life. It would never work out.”

You whisper his name, heart shattering on his behalf. He looks to you with a furrowed brow and continues. “I gave her my whole heart ‘n she wasn’t even willin’ to make an effort to keep us togetha. I don’t like to admit it very often, but I was a mess. I flew back to New York ‘n not long after joined law school. Then I ended up bouncin’ around the Boroughs until I met you.” Sonny’s face warms. His eyes sparkle and he unleashes a smile. “Now the whole world seems right! We can be ourselves around each other. I know I have my flaws, but you’d never judge me for ‘em. Instead, ya love ‘em too ‘n I hope ya know that it’s a two-way street from me.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. You remove your legs from him to cuddle under his arm. Sonny wraps around you and kisses the top of your head. “I love you, Sonny,” you mouth into his chest.

“Love ya too, sweetheart.”

You lean back to caress his cheek with your palm. “I think we have another thing in common,” you offer and Sonny peers at you inquisitively. “We fall in love easily.”

Sonny chuckles. “Yeah, it’s like you’re divin’ into tha deep end head first, but ya only find out it’s too shallow once you’re already leapin’.”

You nod your head in agreement. “It’s funny how that stuff always lingers with you. Like a scar that keeps scabbing over. When you jump off the swings as a kid and scrape your knee, you’ll see that scar afterwards and your brain reminds you to never do that again! It’s a shame that the same thing happens when your heart gets hurt. I always felt like I was scared to put myself out there over the fear of being heartbroken again.”

Sonny hums understandingly. “But,” he says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “when the right person comes along, all that hurt disappears. Because this time,” he smiles affectionately, “when you jump off the swing, there’ll be someone there to catch you.”

Your serious faces contort into goofy smiles. “See? What did I tell ya, doll? We’re so alike that we even share a knack for makin’ up dumb analogies.” Sonny’s eyes once again crinkle at the corners and he shifts to kiss your temple.

Leaning into his touch, you close your eyes and savor the moment. It feels good to clear the air like this and to be able to forge a connection that’s just that much deeper.

---

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you’re interested in being part of a tag-list. Any and all feedback is loved :)

Part 9, “Stuck-On Cheese” is up here

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #sonny x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonnyshine of my life #law and order svu #the changes verse #svu fanfiction #changes #I'm having a bad day please go easy on me :'(#I'm also too shy to ask ppl if they want to be tagged so please if you do bash me over the head and let me know #my fanfic

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 4 years ago

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Only Mine Pt. 4

A/N: So this is basically a series at this point but I’m kind of in love with this idea I’ve created of a pop star reader and MCR Gerard? I don’t know it’s interesting. Also, if you haven’t figured this out yet, the reader is based heavily off of Taylor Swift. Not looks or anything but her career. But instead of country star turned pop star (now turned folk artist), it’s rock band lead singer turned pop star. So yeah. Pairing: F!Pop Star reader x Gerard Way Word count: 1,983 Warnings: Mention of eating disorder, I think that’s all.

Most interviews did not excite you in any way, shape, or form. The idea of sitting down and answering consistent questions, some bland, some too personal, and even some misogynistic was exhausting. But when you were offered a complete 25 minute feature on you and your life from 60 Minutes, you gladly accepted the offer.

Sitting down in your large, open living room now filled with lights and camera crew as well as the reporter, you introduced yourself and the interview began. Initially the questions were primarily about your upbringing, how you started in music, all the usual stuff. But as the interview continued, the questions got more and more complex, and more and more personal.

“Your album, My Midnight Boy, blew up, you won award after award, went on a world tour,” The interviewer began her question, her soft nature making you more comfortable, “You’ve mentioned before that there have been both positive and negative effects to the response of the album. You’ve talked about the positive, but what about the negative?” She asked with a slight smile, as if tying to both apologize and make you more comfortable with the question. You took a deep breath and a light laugh.

“Yeah, I mean, I will be eternally grateful for the opportunity that album has given me, and will continue to give me,” You began, “But the amount of fame and spotlight it gave me also comes in a negative sense. There’s been a lot of rumors that have started, and tabloids that seem to consistently try and build a narrative of my life that just isn’t true.” You continued, “And it gets more difficult when they begin targeting people in your life, besides yourself. You try to build a shield around those people, but they’re inevitably going to see what’s happening and the lies being thrown around about you and them.” “Who are you talking about, in specific?” She asked next.

“Well,” You took a deep breath, “It’s primarily my husband. Which is extremely ironic considering this entire album is abut him. There’s this tendency some people get when they see my personal life to attack it using my work as their weapon. So there’s been this rumor around for years, since the album was released, about Gerard getting married to me to use me for my money and fame, which is completely and utterly not true.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he would have left me during my worse and darkest days if he didn’t love me for who I am.” She hummed and nodded.

“And what were those days?” “Um,” You took a deep swallow, “I went through an extremely rough eating disorder a few years back. And I didn’t really know, or understand how bad it was until there were people who chose to intervene. And he was one of those people.”

“Speaking of your husband, you and him have been open about your relationship when compared to many other public figures in your same positions, which has led to many people to comment on it. What do you have to say to that?” She continued the topic of Gerard, sensing the uncomfortability of the last question and answer.

“That his and my relationship is not up for discussion,” You began, “We’ve been together for over five years now, we’ve gotten what feels like an endless stream of bad press and rumors, even from the beginning with a five year age gap, and now, somehow, our relationship exploded into somehow being infested by the world.”

“Is that why you and he are so private now?” “It was a mixture of that, and for our careers as well. Both him and I are constantly touring, or making music for our own projects, and we don’t get many intimate moments together. So when we do get those close moments, where it’s just him and I, we like to spend them with just each other, the two of us.”

“You and he have been an interesting couple, but fans seem to love you together,” She began, “There’s been common discussion about the two of you being so different. Gerard looks like this rebellious bad boy, and you’re an innocent good girl. Does that fit into your everyday life?” You lightly smiled knowing she was right, you and Gerard were opposite.

“Kind of, but not really,” You began with a laugh, “We’re similar in a thousand different ways as well. I think there’s a very common misconception among everyone in the music industry, that the image created by your work and by your stage persona is you in real life. And to an extent that’s accurate, but it’s also not. I don’t wear crop tops and short skirts, or sparkly body suits and dresses like I do on stage everyday in my normal life. So while both of us are different in many ways, such as our art and how we dress, our personalities are extremely similar. We’re both nerds about comics, we both love to read, we love to do a lot. So our careers are drastically different, but us as people, we’re very similar.”

“You’ve mentioned before that you’ve wanted to be a mom, start a family quite frequently.” You smiled and nodded, “Would you and Gerard still do that? Even after all the fame?” “I think so, yeah.” You began, “We’ve discussed the idea of having a family, of being parents a lot, and both of us are on the same page. We want to have kids, we want to have a family and raise one of our own. But we need the right time and ability to do so. We will both refuse to take a child into our world of chaos without knowing a way to remove them from that chaos, completely. And having them not be involved or in the public eye at all.” You explained.

“And I think in the future that’s going to require both of us to take breaks from our public personas, and our public lives, and focus solely on our private life for at least two to three years. At least to a point where we feel comfortable enough to say, ‘Okay, we’ve retracted our child from any chance of being targeted by anyone in the world who we don’t want them to see. Now let’s re-emerge ourselves, but only to the extent that we can be sure that our child will have two supporting parents, both of whom can properly care for them.’” She hummed with a light smile again, nodding.

“Now, there have been numerous ideas surrounding your previous project, Suggestions From Thursday, which was the band you started in and your only other project aside from your solo career.” You nervously nodded as the interviewer continued asking her question, “When you decided to release your first solo project, the band broke up. Is there any bad blood between the four of you?” “Um,” You nervously played with your fingers trying to create a fast and satisfactory answer that you wouldn’t regret later, “I would hope not. I haven’t really talked to the guys since the split happened. But I would hope there’s a mutual respect between everyone in the situation for both us as people and our history together.”

The interview wrapped up relatively quickly, the reporter was actually very nice and respectful. Her smooth and pleasant tone of voice, plus easy going vibe made you feel very open to talk, and pressured in no way. You knew the intention of 60 Minutes interviews was not to insult the person, but to explain and elaborate on who they really are, which you were more than happy to do.

Once the interview concluded and the camera crew had finished cleaning up your living room, you said goodbye, closing the door and taking a sigh of relief. While you enjoyed the interview and liked how no questions were asked as if to imply an answer, they were still exhausting. You went upstairs, running yourself a bath despite the fact it was 4 pm. And pouring yourself a glass of wine with that.

You were in the tub for a good hour before the water got too cold, getting out to change into an oversize sweatshirt and short pajama shorts. Gerard would be home in only a few hours and would be the only one to see you, so it was’t like it mattered what you wear.

You walked down stairs beginning to cook dinner, a good way to calm yourself down. You began reflecting on the interview, now partially freaking out over whether anything you said could or would be used against you. Yes, 60 Minutes was always pretty unbiased and tried their best to promote everyone who wasn’t actually bad, which you thought you were, but still. The PTSD from previous bad articles about you was slowly building up.

You were chopping some vegetables when you heard Gerard come in, kicking off his tennis shoes and walking into the large, modern kitchen where you were. He kissed your shoulder, giving you a hug from behind. “Hey babe.” You lightly smiled feeling his warmth.

“Hey,” He responded, still hugging you, “How did the interview go.” “Good,” You sighed, “Difficult, and personal, but good.”

“Personal?” He asked next, grabbing some water from your fridge, “What did they ask about?” “Typical things. How I grew up and got here, which grew into you and I, which went into even more personal stuff.” He rose an eyebrow at you taking a sip from his glass, as you sighed in defeat. “Well some of it was about my ED, but they asked me about kids too.” You mentioned.

“Oh?” He inquired again, “And how did you respond?” “With the truth,” You looked over at him from where you were previously invested in your cooking activities, “That you and I want a family one day, but only when we feel it best fit.”

“We could start right now.” He smirked and you scoffed.

“C’mon Gee, for real?” You whined. He sighed in defeat, walking over and giving you a hug.

“Fine, fine, I was just trying to cheer you up.” “I know.” You whispered, your head comfortably in the crook of his neck. “Maybe we should get a dog first.” You said.

“A dog?” He asked and lightly laughed, “We could.”

“Like as a test subject, to see how we would be as parents.” He lightly laughed, kissing the top of your head.

“Mkay babe, you go with that.” He let go of you, looking over at the food you has just started. AKA the chopped vegetables. “Let’s get takeout, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day.” “But-” You tried to protest “No buts.” He insisted. “I need you to not worry and do nothing right now. Other than sit down with me, and watch something.”

The two of you were placed on your huge couch, which could have easily fit eight people, your legs draped over Gerard’s as his arm tightly wrapped around your back, head on his shoulder. He had pulled a blanket over the two of you as you indulged in burgers messily, catching up on a show.

All day you had been heavily reflecting on a lot of what the interview was about. What hit so close was the idea that Gerard was going to corrupt you in a way, a common rumor that had been passed around tabloids and gossip sites dozens of times. You had never truly addressed the rumors, not even in the interview today. But as you mindlessly observed the scenes scanning the TV screen, you got an idea. A brilliant idea at that.

Swinging your legs onto the floor, you got up with haste, beginning to march out of the room. “Where’re you going?” Gerard asked, a confused look on his face.

“To write an album.”

#gerard way fanfiction #gerard way x reader #gerard way #gee way #mcr gerard #my chemical gerard #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

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fortheloveoflizards · 4 years ago

Note

ive actually been a fan of wof for years now, im just not super active in the fandom and i guess id like to be? so here i am, sending u an awkward ask lol. anyways, the more i think about animus magic, the more i hate the way tui executed the concept? like theres barely any consequences or limitations. dragons can do whatever they want with it, which is bad for the plot. idk what are ur thoughts?

Hah, this isn’t awkward at all, I actually do have a lot of thoughts on animus magic, particularly how it differs in each tribe. I think giving each tribe different types of magic, as well as individual drawbacks on top of the general “you go crazy if you abuse your power”. Though I think the latter could have worked as more of a “if you use your power selfishly, it’ll turn on you” sort of situation? In my headcanons, each tribe has a type of magic they work best with, and a type of magic that puts strain on their physical form.

As the tribe closest in appearance to traditional European dragons, I like to headcanon Skywing animus magic as Weather and Element based. Stuff like creating storms and controlling wind currents is easy to imagine, but also magic pertaining to emotions, often fueled by the feelings of the animus themselves. A Skywing animus might find it easiest to use an object to better conduct magic, like a branch or, most commonly, crystals of different types. Skywing magic is what you would call “cast spells”, meaning they have no need to write or say what they wish to do, just think or “feel” it. As for drawbacks, emotional instability is kind of obvious, huh? There’s also bad weather being attracted to the animus, and parts of their body slowly turning into whatever object they used to channel their spells. As an example, using crystals in his spells might result in an animus’ scales turning into crystals themselves, whereas an animus that used a branch to direct air currents would notice her tail growing small twigs and leaves out from between her scales. The magic Skywings have most difficulty with is Herbal and Brewed magic. I feel since Skywing magic is very much based on action and emotion, it would be difficult for a Skywing animus to properly channel it in such a passive way.

Mudwing animus magic is perhaps my favourite to think about, it being what I call Herbal or Brewed magic. Mudwing animi specialize in potions and medicine, though this is more of an inherent tribe skill, their magic works best when imbued into food or drink. To continue with this technique, “power-ups” would be cool to see. Potions to give a dragon super strength or speed, or to keep their scales permanently warm so they can always breath fire. I think Mudwings would be most likely to use so called “magical ingredients” for their spells, as in the act of the animus using an ingredient makes it magic, rather than a normal dragon including it in their stew. I don’t feel there would be much room for drawbacks when it comes to Mudwing magic, so I’m gonna say there isn’t one. However, I will say Brewed magic is one of the hardest to perfect, as if a quantity of ingredient is even slightly off, disaster is imminent. Transformation magic is likely to be the hardest for a Mudwing animus to use. While Brewed magic is hard, it’s precise and a recipe can be done a hundred times for a hundred different dragons, and the effects never alter. Transformation magic is the opposite, in that the spell must be altered for every dragon, as every dragon is slightly different.

Next up is Sandwings! They lean most towards Written and Solar based magic. As you can guess, this means their magic is linked at least partially to the sun. Though they can’t control them, Sandwing animi often have very keen senses when it comes to the weather and seasonal changes. Change itself is a big thing for Sandwings, so seasonal magic is common. Sandwings also find writing spells easiest, as the spell is then precise and exactly as they need it. Sandwing riddles, told at parties or in passing as a fun conversation topic, have their roots in animus magic. Sandwing animi also enjoy the company of animal companions, usually camels or vultures; animals that can carry scrolls and items for the animus in question. The downside for Sandwing animi can be either mental or physical. They can start forgetting things, losing track of time, generally being scatterbrained, which eventually leads to them losing their entire memory. Or, their scales begin to darken, although I’m undecided on what kind of colour they would turn. Should they just turn golden or maybe more of a sunburnt orange or red. Perhaps even black. I dunno, maybe all three. Spoken and Lunar magic are the clear opposites of Written and Solar, so it’s pretty obvious why a Sandwing animus would have trouble in this area. Sandwing magic can be very picky, kind of like a sadistic genie that goes by what a wisher says, rather than what they mean. A dragon has to be very careful how they phrase a spell, which is hard for most Sandwing animi, hence their avoidance of Spoken spells.

I think my Seawing animus headcanon is the closest to being confirmed in canon, since the Seawing animi we see using their magic are usually using what I’ve called Spoken and Lunar magic. This includes regeneration(like healing of themselves and others), curses, transfiguration of objects and generally verbal commands. And for the record, “verbal commands” is usually, like the animus test the Seawings take, telling an inanimate object to do something. Lunar magic is connected to the moon and the tides, opposite to Solar magic. This can mean it gets stronger under a full moon, and gives a Seawing animus a kind of bond to the ocean the more they use Lunar magic. As with Sandwing animi, the magic that comes most natural to Seawings involves change. Changing tides, moon rotations, drifting currents and rips, all those factor into their magic’s strength, in and out of water. Seawing animi can also suffer a lowering of inhibitions, and can suffer what I call “going feral”. Theirs is the most noticeable, though this final drawback can affect all tribes. I like to think the more a Seawing animus uses their magic, the more they start to look like a deep sea creature. Brighter glowing scales, thinner scales overall(sometimes so thin you can almost see their insides, bleurgh!), elongated, thinner teeth, and increased speed of growth to their whole body. As you can probably guess, Written and Solar magic are the areas that cause the most trouble for Seawing animi. I’m not sure what else to comment here, since I feel it’s pretty straightforward, so there you go.

Rainwings! The tribe I’m most like! I feel that since the average Rainwing can change the colour of their scales regardless of magical ability, Transformation magic would be a perfect match for any animi that might exist in the tribe. Transformation magic includes form shifting of themselves and others, body hrror/torture(which differs from simple form shifting because it’s specifically supposed to cause pain) and transfiguration of objects. Transformation magic requires knowledge of how the specific dragon’s body works, moves and how their mind reacts to things. You might think the average Rainwing is too self-centered to be capable of that kind of perceptiveness, but I believe they’re more perceptive than they’re portrayed in-canon. I think the most noticeable consequence of a Rainwing animus using their magic is their scale colours “glitching”. If the Rainwing is naturally purple and green and they try to turn red and blue, areas of their scales might change slower than the rest, or not change altogether. A camouflaged Rainwing might suddenly find themselves bright pink and orange. Stuff like that. Weather magic is most difficult for a Rainwing animus, since it requires a lot of, I guess passionate emotions? Weather magic is loud and aggressive and takes a lot of power to control. It also relies heavily on being strongly connected to every emotion, and can backfire terribly on a dragon that doesn’t know how to wrangle that kind of power.

Mind and Time magic is what I’ve assigned for Nightwings! I felt it fits with their whole Mystical Infinite Powers aesthetic. Obviously, Mind magic includes mindreading and and Time magic future vision - which were most likely a gift from a Nightwing animus a long time ago. Other abilities include fate writing(a spell that can change an otherwise unchangeable future), enchanting, illusions, and changing minds/the perceptions of a dragon. This magic is actually relatively simple to perform, and one of the most used types by all animus dragons. That doesn’t make it any less powerful or dangerous, in fact it’s probably more dangerous that it’s so easy to use. Nightwings certainly haven’t been using it for the best purposes. This is the magic I think is the root cause of dragons losing their minds, since “Mind” is like one whole half of the magic. The unfortunate thing is that Nightwings are excellent bullshitters, so they at least last a while before anyone figures out something’s wrong. The side effect of using other types of magic is most notably scale discolouration, to the point that there are records of completely white, full-blood Nightwings. Since Icewings and Nightwings are Enemies For Life I figure their magics would clash just as much, out of principal. Reflective magic in particular requires the user to be self aware, to know their faults and, if only momentarily, be at peace with them. Nightwings are pretty in denial about a lot of stuff, it’s part of the culture they’ve built up.

Finally, Reflective and Defensive magic is the natural inclination of Icewings. That means shielding and barrier magic - which can be physical or psychological, insightful magic, illusions and star spells. No insightful magic is Not future vision, if you make that comparison in front of even a regular Icewing you will be murdered. The Icewing mind is typically pretty guarded already, as we see when Moon tries to read them. I like to believe that an animus a long time ago used their Gift to make it so Nightwings can’t read the tribe’s minds, or at least not easily. This would be an example of a psychological barrier spell. Star spells are tied to the stars(no duh) like Solar and Lunar magic are tied to their respective namesakes. However, as opposed to change, star spells are constant. Once one is cast, it stays forever. Almost all Icewing magic is a star spell of some kind, making other dragons very wary of an animus born from the tribe. Thankfully, the fact that Icewing magic includes that of Defense, it’s rarely used for aggressive purposes. I believe Icewing magic would backfire by crystalising within the user’s bones, making their joints stiff and their mind fuzzy. They may dissociate from the world and eventually be lost, as with Sandwings. As I said, Icewings and Nightwings are opposites in magic, though there are overlaps which serve to infuriate both tribes. Considering Nightwing animus magic supposedly came from Icewings, the former retained some of the abilities of the latter.

There you are, my thoughts on dragon magic. This turned into much more of a headcanons post than an answer, so I hope you don’t mind. Thanks so much for the ask, and I hope you find content creators that make you feel safe being active in the fandom!

#Wings of Fire #Rose Brambles #Headcanons #Dragon Biology #Animus Magic #Mudwings #Skywings #Sandwings #Seawings #Rainwings #Icewings #Nightwings #i didn't think i had thoughts but then i did oop #guess who found motivation #i have so much stuff in my drafts #sorry to all the people following me who thought i was consistent #dunno where y'all got that idea

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iconfusionwastaken · 4 years ago

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Dream SMP - Not So Human AU

Basically, no one in the SMP is an absolute human. Of course what the SMP members are can change over time to fit certain scenarios/stories any of us come up w/. I wanna see this AU spread tho tbh. (Side note, I don’t know much about Dream SMP lore much less the characters.)

Dream - Humanoid Slime who happens to be/posessed by a Transmuted Dreamon. His nature as a slime makes him more slippery & thus harder to catch. Also, just because he was exorcised doesn’t mean he can’t be possessed by another Dreamon or the same one from before.

George - Gorgon. Idk anything about George. I mean the nature of a Gorgon would give George a reason to always wear glasses, & George gets wings!

Sapnap - Fire Breathing Dragon/Human hybrid or descendent of a Blaze. I mean, he has burned some stuff. Maybe if he’s part dragon he decides to eat Fungi after accidentally killing him as well as the other pets so as to get rid of the evidence. Perhaps he goes around killing pets because of his instincts as a dragon.

Callahan - Deer/Human hybrid.

Awesamdude - Creeper/Human hybrid. Pretty easy one.

Alyssa - Nymph. She’s helps Ponk during the disk war after his lemon tree’s burned down, & she makes a horse barn near Antfrost’s animal shelter. I geuss her domain would have to do w/ animals more than plants.

Ponk - Dryad. I already did a post on him being one though.

BadBoyHalo - Dreamon. Demons & Dreamons seem to be the same thing, they just have different titles, maybe the terms are interchangeable? What’s the difference between the two.

Tommy - Faerie/Human. Look, I’m all for Tubbo & Tommy being Faeries. Being part fae also seems to fit w/ Tommy’s character. IDK if the disks are shiny, maybe Tommy prefers disks/anything that makes music over shinies.

Tubbo - Faerie/Human or Faerie/Moobloom/Human hybrid. He liked bees alot, & being part moobloom would bring in the fluff. Not to mention my most recent reblog.

Punz - Golem/Revived Human? IDK, I was thinking that he’d be a very humanoid golem made for Dream & Dream’s only order at first was to be a good person, in the future it would be to fight for him. Of course Punz would still have free will. The other route could be that Punz died but Dream or the dreamon in him would revive Punz making Punz loyal to Dream. Perhaps Sapnap can also be involved w/ reviving Punz hence Punz’s reason to help Sapnap all the time he was in a conflict.

Fundy - Kitsune. I saw a post saying that Sally & Fundy could be Kitsunes since Kitsunes can shapeshift & so Wilbur could’ve met Sally as a salmon but it’s still make sense as to why Fundy came out a humanoid fox.

Purpled - Golem. IDK beings other than golems which follow orders. Maybe when he was made, he was told to “follow the orders you’re given” by his maker hence why he was a yes-man & despite getting involved w/ conflicts he winds up being neutral in the end.

Wilbur - Fae/Human. TBH, I might as well make everyone in the SBI Fae/Human hybrids.

Jschlatt - Satyr obviously, they’re litterally depicted as drinkers at least during Ancient Greek iirc.

Skeppy - Diamond Golem. I saw a post about Skeppy being a diamon golem, doubt I’ll be able to find it.

Eret - Gorgon, Fae, or fae/human. Again, it’s only because they have glasses that I thought of them being a Gorgon, but since Eret will only side w/ whoevers victory will benifit him according to the wiki, being a Fae seems to make sense.

Jack - Descendant of a Dragon or Dragon/Human hybrid. Since he can be bribed, maybe he wants the stuff for his horde?

Niki - Unicorn/Human hybrid. Um, Niki owns a bakery & w/ the idea of unicorns being able to purify poisoned water, it she wouldn’t have a problem w/ having clean water?

Quackity - Shapeshifter. I was thinking that he’d be human/duck hybrid, but why can’t he be a shapeshift that chooses a human/duck hybrid as his typical form. It’d also explain the whole Mexican Dream stuff that happens.

Karl - Vampire/Werewolf. He makes alot of buildings and those 2 creatures are more physically capable than your typical humans, not to mention that being either would give him good reasons to have 2 partners who are close to him.

HBomb - Werecat. IDK what else to make him. Not to mention that cats can be pretty violent when HBomb’s the oppossite of that.

Technoblade - Piglin or Human/Hoglin hybrid or the Humanoid Pig like he canonically is.

Antfrost - Werecat.

Philza - Fae/Human hybrid. That explains the wings he’s always depicted w/.

ConnerEatsPants - Werehedgehog or Hedgehog/Human hybrid.

CaptainPuffy - Sheep selkie. That onzie is her sheep fur/skin. Since she’s always wearing said skin, she can become a sheep or sheep/human hybrid whenever she wants. TBH I thought of this before the reblog b4 this post inspired me to make this one.

Vikkstar - Watcher. As in the Watchers from Minecraft Evo, I couldn’t think of anything else. I’ve never even watched Vikkstar.

LazarBeam - Gingerbread Man. Hopefully no one is starving near him.

Ranboo - Enderman/Inverted Enderman hybrid. I guess we’re pulling a lab experiment backstory on this one lads.

#Dream SMP #Not So Human AU #Dream SMP AU

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whitleyschn33 · 4 years ago

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RWBY Volume 8 Episode One: Quick Thoughts

Or not so quick, seeing how long it took me to write this and how much I ended up having to say. Spoilers (duh) under the cut, as this thing got insanely long.

So we open with a maid scrubbing a floor, a shot that lasted long enough I was starting to wonder where it was going before we cut to Cinder. So, Cinder backstory - interesting way to open the volume, but I’m not sure if it’s a good way. At the very least, I would have cut it a couple seconds, or have it flash between Cinder’s face and the flashback. Same information, but given in a quicker manner that lets us know exactly what we’re seeing instead of wonder who this random maid is for 10 seconds.

Whale aircraft carrier. The design is interesting, if looking a bit too clean for my taste. I would’ve liked to see the bones and muscles of the Grimm incorporated into the design a bit more, the surfaces less smooth and more textured, but it looks good.

Facial acting on Neo is good - I appreciate being able to see what’s running through her head, even if it also makes me wonder why Salem isn’t picking up on the obvious tells.

Emerald and Mercury are back and with new outfits; I can hear the diehard EmMerc fans screaming from here. Would’ve liked a better look at the whole outfits (I don’t think there’s even one close up of their entire bodies), but I like Mercury’s! Emerald’s model feels off to me for some reason, like it’s wider or more padded (?) than before, but it’s not a big deal and is probably just a result of her wearing a jacket now.

Oh, yeah, Hazel got one too, don’t care.

Why does the whale have a screen? A connection to one of those seer orb Grimm?

Cinder is still not interesting to me, but I am curious - can one woman hold multiple maiden powers? What happens if one woman holds them all? If they can hold multiple powers, what happens when they die? Do they both/all go to the same person, or would they split?

I like the Faunus that gives Oscar the soup. His design is pretty cute to me (I think he’s a mole Faunus?), and I feel like he’s based on something, but I’m not sure what. Getting a Narnia vibe for some reason, which I’m always on board for.

How did Ruby know where Oscar ended up? Did he call?

Weiss’s braid looks much better! I’m still not a huge fan of it, but this model is an enormous improvement - it actually looks like hair instead of rope, it’s slicker, and doesn’t look as heavy. Nice job, animators. Blake’s looks better, too, more fluffy, but it’s not as drastic a change to me.

Nice to see the Happy Huntresses actually doing something to help Mantle, and having Joanna(? that’s her name, right?) take charge and be helping Ruby get Oscar back in exchange for their aid is nice. It feels realistic for a situation like this.

And more secret keeping, but in this case, dropping the Oz bombshell would actually probably be a bad idea. There’s enough going on, bringing up Oz being back can wait until tensions aren’t as high.

Why would Ironwood stop evacuation? That makes no sense for his character, and there’s no reason to stop them. Until he gets Penny back, Atlas isn’t going anywhere. Might as well keep evacuating until you can find here, get as many people to safety as possible before getting away. I’d assume the Doylist answer for this is that Mantle still needs to be a factor in any decisions made after this and it can’t be that if we can get everyone evacuated, but that doesn’t make the Watsonian explanation make more sense.

Actually a good plan, getting everyone into the crater if it is in fact warm (why, I wonder? Thermal vents? Heat coming off of Atlas?) solves the cold problem (that people should’ve probably already died from) and having to defend one smaller location is strategically a good option. Corralling people would also make any eventual evac to Atlas easier. There is the small problem of, you know, Atlas literally crushing anyone in the crater if the staff is used on anything else, and Salem is known to be after that Staff, sooooooo -

Okay, maybe a nitpick, but I thought Pierto’s specialty was prosthetics and robotics. Doesn’t seem like something that necessarily overlaps with what’s needed to convert Amity into a satellite. I guess maybe the engine/whatever is going to propel it into the air could be similar to Penny’s boosters/whatever lets her fly, but it doesn’t seem like something that he would be involved in raising Amity. Whatever - I know we need a scientist person to tell these things to RWBY+Co and Pierto is the most likely candidate to be in a position to do that.

It seems like, from Ruby’s dialogue, she both wants to warn the other kingdoms and ask for their help. This has been trampled to death, so I won’t rant, but - there is no one that’s going to be able to help. Argus is hours away, will take time to assemble, and isn’t a very large force to begin with. Mistral is still weakened from V5 and has next to no huntsman, and is even farther than Argus. No idea what’s going on with Vale, but they’re probably still nursing their wounds from the Fall. Vacuo is the only kingdom likely to be able to muster up a force, but they’re on the other side of the map and will take hours, if not days, to get together an army - and that’s if they decide they want to help at all. The other objective was warning the Kingdoms about Salem. Ignoring that Salem is immortal and can just throw as many Grimm as she pleases until the defenses fall, ignoring that the other Kingdoms might not even believe Ruby, what’s to say they won’t go “F*ck Atlas, they’re on their own” and recall every available Huntsman and Huntress to shore up their own defenses? Or what if the other kingdoms just fall into anarchy? Learning an immortal witch with an endless supply of Grimm will come knocking on your doorstep soon tends to cause chaos. Or is Ruby going to leave the whole immortal part out again? I just can’t see what this will accomplish.

Holy shit, it’s actually happening. Dissent from WBY, and it’s coming from Yang of all people - I love it. I wish Yang had gotten to finish her sentence, say something along the lines of “Maybe if we’d told the truth immediately things wouldn’t have gone this way” since that would fit with her “hate secrets” thing she had going on in V5/6, but the fact that Yang is actually questioning Ruby’s leadership and choices - yes yes yes, more of that please, less of the hive mind. I wish it’d come a little earlier, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.

I’m slightly confused at the sides that Ren and Nora are taking here. I like that we’re splitting them up here (we never get to see them separated, and after last volume, I am more than on board with letting Ren get some breathing room), but Ren going with Yang, Jaune, and Oscar to help evacuate Mantle while Nora goes on the “bigger picture” team to get Amity up and running seems weird considering where they were last volume. Nora was always screaming about how the big picture stuff was hurting Mantle, while Ren was pushing to keep training, keep working, support Ironwood and try and work at the big picture problem, so it would seem like they should be on opposite sides. I’m not saying it makes no sense - I can absolutely see Ren feeling protective of towns under attack from Grimm with no Huntsmen in their corner - but it feels like a bit of a 180 from their last positions.

Did Oscar just call Jaune “John”?

Yeah, if nothing else, don’t let Penny get anywhere near Salem or her cronies. Salem can absolutely not be allowed to get her hands on the Staff, especially with the whole “get everyone to the crater” plan. Squish.

Yang and Blake splitting up, maybe we can actually get some conversations on what the hell is up with them that we should have gotten in V6/V7 instead of petty showing off and Nora projecting.

“But what about Mantle?” “Oh, I’m helping Mantle.” with the same thing you spent all last volume complaining about. Uh-huh, that’s not annoying.

Weiss has an idea on how to get up to Atlas - Winter’s ship, maybe? That one she came in on in V3 was her personal ship, wasn’t it?

Ironwood calls Penny. From the music, it sounds like they were aiming for foreboding and manipulative, but Ironwood just sounds tired, the poor man. Love how Ruby doesn’t even try for a comeback for Ironwood’s argument, really convincing.

Dead Clover, and I hope that he stays that way, because if he’s brought back to life, so much of V6′s themes of life and death and the natural cycle is just going to be spit on (again). Clover is dead, and there should be no way around that save interference from a literal god. Any attempt at bringing him back needs some kind of drawback - some prevision of life, a body that moves but his soul isn’t there, something, please RT, don’t double back on your “Death is permanent” thing again.

And Ironwood did lose his arm completely. It’s an awesome looking prosthetic, but the fact that it’s black when the rest of his prosthetics are silver, combined with the comments made by the CRWBY about Ironwood’s humanity, make me very afraid they’re going to go for some sort of bullshit parallel to Cinder’s black Grimm arm. I do like the orchestral version of Hero playing here, though.

I like Winter’s new hair style - similar enough to her previous one, but looser. Not exactly happy about what that might symbolize, but it looks really good. It looks like she might have nerve damage, though, which would mean she might be off the battlefield until she can get her hands (hah) on some sort of brace to help her move her hands (which might be hinted at in the OP~)

I do really like Ironwood and Winter’s relationship, please don’t f*ck it up, CRWBY.

Is the only thing CRWBY knows how to do to make Ironwood seem like the bad guy shoot people for no goddamn reason? Ironwood was surrounded by loyal soldiers after declaring martial law, there was no reason for him to not just order Slate detained (that one was Slate, right? Not that it matters). The man’s annoying and probably in cahoots with Jacques, but shooting him is out of character, excessive, and makes no sense when he could just be arrested. “It shows he’s slipping -” No. It’s lazy writing meant for shock value and to give characters a reason to go “Oh, he’s going evil now, I better question my loyalty to him” (based on the look Winter and Harriet share) rather than any actual flaw in his plans maybe because CRBY realized that Ironwood’s plans are rational and the best one on the table right now, so they can’t use that to turn people against him. F*ck that.

Salem sends a bloodhound or whatever after Oscar, we already saw this bit in the trailers. No comment.

TLDR: Once again, RWBY sets up a lot of stuff that I find interesting and want to see more of. However, their treatment of Ironwood doesn’t make me optimistic for them to treat him right, and RWBY has a track record of setting up good concepts/plots/characters/arcs and then failing to execute them well or at all. We’ll have to see if V8 actually lives up to the promise or falls flat due to the issues that plagued V6 and V7 .

Going to make a whole new list for the OP because dear Lord, this thing is dense.

This song is definitely more in line with RWBY’s usual sound than Trust Love, and I’m all for that. The beat is a little hinky to me - it’s going to take a few re-listens to get used to it - and once again I wish the lyrics were clearer, but I know people that weren’t as happy with V7′s sound will be happy with this return to form.

Establishing shots of Mantle going to hell, nice use of red and contrast, but I wish there was a bit more use of shadow to really sell the red coming from fires and emergency lights.

Ruby standing alone, turning to find the others standing at the ready to fight, but away from her and with their backs turned. Any chance of more dissent? Will we actually get some growth from Ruby, in regards to her leadership in particular? We can only hope.

The four girls, on a blackish/blue background with floating warm lights, with images of their V1 selves in their clothes/hair/weapons. I really love the animation in the portion, the girls look so good. It also makes me wish we’d get some sort of flashback to V1-3, because I want more of their Beacon designs in the new animation style. The fact that this background/setting shows up again later in the trailer makes me wonder if it might be what the interior of the Atlas vault looks like. No basis for that, just a random thought. Couple minor nitpicks, focused on Yang. The fact that she’s the only one not in a more dynamic pose (and this is Yang of all people) seems odd, and the way her hair flows looks weird to me based on the angles and whatnot. Putting her in a different pose like a charge would fix this, letting her hair flow more naturally and giving them the space they need to to add in her past self. Otherwise, gorgeous.

Ironwood with Atlas inside him, slowly being overtaken by the red as he looks up. No real comment other than beautiful.

Clover dropping his pin, with the AceOps and Qrow in the leaves, before transitioning to Qrow taking Robyn’s hand in prison. It looks like Harriet will be taking over as team leader. I don’t have a lot to say here - Marrow’s the only AceOp I’m interested in, and Qrow and Clover’s relationship has never been compelling for me. Robyn, similarly, is not a character I like, so a Qrow/Robyn team-up jailbreak isn’t something that I’m interested in unless Watts is involved. Already teamed up with one villain, Qrow, why stop there?

Oscar in pain holding his head, while Grimm eyes surround him and then Salem with wyvern wings comes out and looms over him preparing to grab him. I like the visual of Salem as the Wyvern at Beacon, but her face looks almost doofy in this shot. I think it’s the lack of expression mixed with the eyes. If she had a more menacing expression, I think this would work a lot better.

The falling weapons of the girls, Crescent Rose with Myrtenaster and Gambol Shroud with Ember Celica. Cue the shippers.

Jaune with his sword in front of his face, pulling it down to be at the ready, with Nora and Ren in the far background, their backs turned on each other but looking sad at their positions. I know Jaune’s thing is probably generic, but it gives me Mulan vibes, which is funny considering. Hey, hint that Martial Arcs will become canon now that Renora is on the rocks? fingers crossed More of Ren and Nora’s rough patch, and I really hope that that gets some focus. Their kiss last volume left a bad taste in my mouth with how it went down, and getting into these two as separate characters and their relationship. Ren not requiting Nora’s romantic feelings towards him would be a really interesting place to go with these characters that everyone’s pegged together since episode 4 (in no small part due to their lack of interaction with anyone else, but I’ll get to that).

Winter and Weiss walking towards each other on the Schnee symbol, passing each other by with Winter getting her new hairstyle and a brace of some sort. She’s actually wearing this brace in the hospital, but on the other arm, while now it’s on the arm she couldn’t bend her fingers with. Interesting, and it looks all looks really good!

The Schnee snowflake falls between Whitley and Willow, before shattering onto a chessboard. YESSSS, Whitley’s in the intro again! That’s more than I could’ve hoped, and I really really hope that him looking contemplatively like that means something - that’s he’s figuring things out, coming up with a plan, something! Still no new design though T-T CRWBY, what do I have to do to get my boy some new clothes?

From the chessboard, Salem rises up, turning the other black pieces into Grimm to attack the white where Ironwood stands. His pieces turn to dust, the board blowing away entirely. Nice callback to V1. Ironwood stands alone - no allies, and no space to move forward. He’s a king with nowhere to move - check or checkmate.

Smug Watts hacking while leaning against a mirror, rotates to show Pierto doing the same, his reflection looking over its shoulder at him, then a pan to Penny to show the same thing before the mirror breaks. I’m not sure what this might symbolize. Inability to trust yourself, maybe?

A snowflake flies through the air and lands in Ren’s palm. It turns into a flower petal, (or scraps his hand, I can’t quite tell) then Yang, Jaune, and Oscar join him, Ren smiling to Jaune. Another flower petal flies by to transition to Nora, who reaches out but can’t catch it, looking dismayed until RWBP comes in to join her. I assume the symbolism is straight-forward - the snowflake turns to a petal when caught by Ren (lotus guy), then flies to Nora who can’t catch it. Really living for the Ren focus in the op~

Pans to a shot of the whole group in the middle of everything - Atlas and Mantle overrun with Grimm on one side, Salem’s whale and Grimm army on the other, and Amity in the middle, which Penny flies up to hover below. Penny is going to be vital to launching Amity, and probably for reasons other than the terminal.

Then Ruby and Yang looking at each other with a smile and nod before the girls jump into fighting some Grimm. Interesting bit when the volume opens with the sisters starting to have disagreements.

The entire thing freezes, Cinder strolling cockily past the crew to walk in front of a bored/disgruntled Neo and Emerald who starts to wave but looks dejected when Cinder ignores her. Not much to say here - I don’t really like the freeze frame for some reason, no idea why. This also doesn’t give us any new info on the dynamics between these three characters.

Cinder grabs her Grimm arm in pain as fire flares up behind her, transitioning into Merc, Tyrian, Hazel, and Salem with the lamp in her eyes, transitioning to the lamp and staff twirling around each other, both emitting smoke like they’re being used as they come together. I wonder if this means that the last question and the Staff are going to be used, and maybe together? Once again, though - Atlas falling, people in the crater die.

Smoke clears up to reveal Ruby, looking up to Atlas first in invasion mode, then peaceful. Turn to a shot of the group standing looking to the left, Yang and Ruby looking like they’re posed but the others just kind of standing there. It’s a weird shot, and I’m not sure what to make of it, honestly.

The ice breaks beneath Ruby’s feet, sending RWBY falling into a void, their bodies trailing those lights that we saw before. Ruby opens her eyes to see the brightest light, the Staff. She reaches out to it, but Grimm paws and hands drag her down. V6 callback?

The word Happy? flashes only to be crossed out, a sketchy Grimm roaring, then the words Ever then Never as it’s crossed out, with a sketchy Penny lifting her head and her eyes then face going red, then the words After Again being crossed out. I’m not really of the words - I think it’s going for a Happily Ever After Happy? Never Again thing, but there’s no Happily that I can see, and it just kind of comes across as a bit emo to me. I like the sketches of the Grimm and Penny - I think it might be a Wyvern Grimm or something like that, and the red spreading from Penny’s eyes to her entire outline is interesting. I wonder if it’s connected to the Maiden powers and how she’ll use them.

Sketches of RWBY’s weapon fall into the snow, Crescent Rose falling with the tip stuck in the snow, then a flash and a pull out to Crescent Rose in the snow in full animation, framed by the broken moon as rose petals fly by with the “Created by Monty Oum” credit appears. I really like this as a reference to the Red trailer, and compared to the very cluttered ending shot of V7, this is a nice change of pace.

I like this OP. It’s definitely above V7′s for me, with a good song and some beautiful animation in it’s visuals. If I had to criticize it, I would say that it feels very long and cluttered. My breakdown of the opening feels as long as everything I mentioned in the actual episode. I realize one was going almost shot by shot, while the other summarized, but the point still stands that this things feels longer than it needs to be (I’d have to check time stamps to see if it is actually significantly longer).

A more promising start, all in all, than I’d hoped for. Things irritate me for sure, Ironwood’s treatment, Ruby’s plan, all that stuff, but I know I would have those bones to pick going in. The shake-up of the usual teams and the promise of inter-group conflict is enough to get me to want more, and I look forward to seeing how my favorite characters will be utilized.

What are your thoughts on the episode? Reblog and comment down below, and we’ll start a convo.

Until next time~

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby volume 8 #rwby8 spoilers #rwby 8 spoilers #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xioa long #episode breakdown

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breakingsomething · 5 years ago

Text

the fall - part five (here we go again)

basic summary: both naomi and marvin talk to some old friends. meanwhile, jackie clears some stuff up with henrik and chase. chaos ensues.

trigger warnings: explosion, panic attack

"so what do we do, exactly?"

naomi, sitting on the bed where anti should have been and staring into space, wasn't sure how to answer that question. she bit her lip and let out a sigh, suddenly feeling very tired.

"i don't know," she murmured. "i guess i - i got to get a doctor from hecate, if i can. i know someone who knows someone, so i can maybe do that. would you mind looking after him while i call?"

lucas hesitated, curling his legs up from his perch on the windowsill. "uh, sure, i can try," he said uncertainly, and naomi flashed him a grateful smile. she hadn't mean to get lucas so thoroughly involved, but she was glad she had help. she'd have to take him out for lunch or something later to thank him.

"you're the best," she grinned. lucas stood and smiled back before standing and walking over to where the man had passed out again, slumped against the door. naomi couldn't even imagine the amount of pain he was in, drifting in and out of consciousness between fits of confusion and anger. what could have actually happened to him?

she watched lucas press a hand to his forehead, wincing. "he might have a fever," he murmured. "he's all hot and sweaty."

"sure you're not a doctor yourself, lucas?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. he shook his head, snorting.

"my brother was. a non mag, of course." lucas wrapped an arm around the man's chest, trying to carefully lift him up. "anyway, not important. go call your friend. i'll be ok."

she paused as she left the room, suddenly worried. this day had been a lot more stressful than she'd planned.

marvin had mentioned this brother before, of course. he'd never said his name until today - fuck, what was his name, andy? - but he'd mentioned his glitching, and what he'd done to his brothers. never specifics, but it wasn't hard to imagine. naomi wondered why marvin was helping him after all he'd done to them. she wasn't a revenge driven person herself, but she knew her friend usually was. then again, this was his brother. whether that changed things, she really didn't know.

she went down the steps to the store and sat at the bottom, calling a number she hadn't intended to ever call again. fuck, the things she did for marvin… "hello?" she said cautiously as the phone finished ringing.

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line. "naomi?" kai said softly. he sounded like he was on a train or something. "uh… i thought we agreed to… never speak again?"

she covered her face with her hand. fuck, this was so much worse than she'd wanted already. "ja, we did," she mumbled. "but, uh… i need a favour. are you still friends with char?"

she heard him take a breath, licking his lips. she cringed at the sound. "i am," he said. "why - wait, let me guess. a doctor?"

she nodded, although kai couldn't see her. "my… friend's brother is hurt, he needs a magic doctor and i don't have enough connections in hecate to get one. so -"

"- you called me," he finished. "yeah, that's cool, i get it."

she closed her eyes, a pit of guilt roiling in her stomach. "i'm sorry -"

"don't be!" he said, far too cheerily. "i'll call her up. are you at your shop?"

she made a noise of confirmation. "mmh. listen, kai, i'm -"

"nai," he said, and he sounded so defeated. "it's cool. you don't have to call me again if - if you don't want."

"ok," she murmured. "thanks."

kai hung up without another word.

naomi stared at her phone for a long moment, feeling sick. she wasn't sure how long she would have sat there feeling angry at herself if it weren't for the loud scream upstairs. a scream that could only have come from one person.

she scrambled to her feet, racing up the stairs two at a time and throwing open the door to the spare room. she was greeted with the sight of lucas, flat on the floor, and andy sprawled out next to him. lucas pushed himself away, coughing and grabbing at his neck. his face had three long, bleeding scratch marks down it. "he tried to fuckin' kill me!"

andy wheezed, shakily pushing himself back up. he was extremely pale, and trembling badly. despite that, he fumbled next to him on the floor and grabbed a book that had fallen from one of the boxes. naomi crouched next to lucas, holding both hands up to show she meant no harm as andy lifted the book threateningly.

"hey there, andy, we're all - we're all friends here," she said, trying to keep her voice level. andy growled, attempting to make what naomi could only assume was meant to be a threatening sign with the hand that wasn't holding the book. however, he seemed to have forgotten about his broken wrist and hissed in pain, pulling his legs up to his chest and curling into them.

"he jumped me!" lucas cried, voice higher pitched than usual. "he was pretending to be asleep or something, he tried to strangle me!"

naomi turned her attention to andy, who held the book up again in warning. "andy, we're with marvin, he - he helped you, didn't he? we're going to help you too. we'll help fix up your arm, you'll be safe here."

lucas sat up behind naomi, and andy promptly began glitching wildly, his eyes flickering from colour to colour. naomi smiled reassuringly, very slowly moving closer. "andy, it's ok, it's ok."

"i think, uh, his name is anti?" lucas said, thankfully getting the hint and moving further away. "is that right?"

the man's chest rose and fell rapidly, and his body twitched for a moment. then he gave a tiny nod. naomi's heart leapt. "ok, ok, i got it," she said. communication was finally happening. thank the gods.

"ok then, anti," she said quietly. anti's eyes darted back and forth, arm shaking as he held the book in front of him. "listen." she threw all caution to the wind. "i - i hear you have an interest in hecate, our international network of magic."

anti's eyes widened for a brief second, but he was silent. naomi waited, and when there was no response, she kept talking. "i can't tell you everything, of course. i don't even know everything. but if you go lay back on the bed and - and don't try and, you know, kill anyone…" she hesitated. "i'll tell you some things."

"naomi -" lucas began to protest, but she shook her head without turning round. anti glitched, face filled with anger and frustration and pain. he was very white, and looked like he might pass out again.

eventually, he gave a small nod, and naomi smiled in genuine relief. "ok!" she said, overjoyed to have handled the situation. "ok, good!"

her phone rang from inside her pocket. both she and lucas jumped, and she pulled it out to answer it. "hello?"

"nai," came marvin's panicked tone. "fuck, nai, they're not here, there's nothing but mess and missing clothes and - and everything smells of black magic, naomi, he must have another magician helping him, my brothers are gone!"

the ceiling fan spun above them, letting out a consistent hum that henrik tried to focus on. if he didn't focus on anything else, he'd be forced to think about the two green bots floating on either side of the fan, monitoring their every move.

always there, always watching.

he felt something nudge his side. he turned his head very slightly, just enough to see chase's face out the corner of his eye. he gave the tiniest nod to show he wae listening, trying not to act suspicious in front of the bots.

chase raised his eyebrows and flickered his eyes downward for a second. henrik glanced down too, watching as chase oh so casually moved his jacket, revealing… henrik gasped, and chase shook his head, covering himself again.

"a gun?" henrik mouthed, careful not to actually speak the words aloud. he held his fist in front of his mouth to hide what he was saying. "where the fuck did you get -"

"doesn't matter, ok?" chase mouthed back, also covering his mouth from view of the bots. "i thought we were gonna have to deal with anti, so i took it. i don't know if i should - should we try to jump him or something?"

henrik shook his head. "bad idea. he has - he has proper magic, chase, we don't."

chase rubbed his eye, scrunching up his face. he didn't respond for a moment. then - "are we sure he's not being possessed by anti? i mean, the black eyes -"

"can't be that," henrik mouthed. "i know what being possessed by anti looks like, unfortunately, and it's not that. this is something different. it must be that necklace he's wearing." he paused, glancing at the bots. "where do you think he got it?"

"black magic like that… i don't know," chase admitted. "i don't know as much about the whole magic aspect of this world as you guys do. jack only told me so much, and even he didn't -"

the door suddenly swung open. both of them jumped, before resuming their previous positions, trying to act as natural as they could.

jackie came in, the black having disappeared from his face and hands and now looking just like their normal brother. henrik couldn't see the necklace anymore, so he assumed he had tucked it under his black hoodie. jackie swallowed and sat down on the end of the bed, not blinking or taking his eyes off his brothers.

"what were you talking about?" he asked softly, calmly. too softly. too calmly.

"wh-what the fuck's it to do with you?" chase spat, failing to hide the trembling in his voice. his palm was sweaty against henrik's. "we don't have to t-tell you anything."

jackie blinked, and henrik let out an embarrassing squeak of fear. jackie glanced at him, his dark blue eyes full of something henrik didn't recognize.

"i should explain," he murmured. "i never meant to hurt you."

"you - you threw me into the goddamn air and slammed me into the floor!" chase cried, voice high. "you absolutely meant to hurt me!"

jackie shook his head, just slightly. "you don't understand, chase. i'm trying to protect you."

"then explain how," henrik said, and they both turned to look at him. they were the first words he'd spoken aloud in close to an hour. "explain to us, and we'll listen. we won't interrupt." he turned to his little brother. "right, chase?"

chase looked torn, but he nodded. "sure, whatever," he mumbled. jackie gave a shaky sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

"ok," he breathed. "ok. i'll explain everything."

marvin didn't bother heading back to the shop.

he'd already explained his plan to naomi as he was leaving his family's empty flat, where the tv was still showing a pause screen for a video game and the bedrooms were covered in clothes that had been hastily thrown out of closets and drawers. "i'm going straight to hecate," he told her. "i can't find my brothers myself."

"but - pye, fuck, hecate can't help you!" naomi exclaimed, distressed. "you left the organization! what do you expect them to - marvin!"

marvin buckled himself into the car, dimly thinking that a car crash would absolutely be the last thing he needed right now. "i was their best goddamn mage, naomi," he said confidently. "they'll let me back in. and if they refuse to help me - well, i have something they won't be able to refuse."

naomi immediately understood. "you - you can't just give that up."

marvin took a breath, starting the car with steady hands. "i don't have a choice," he murmured. the book he'd put in his jacket dug into his chest. "look after anti. he can be a bit unstable, just don't talk down to him or anything and you should be fine."

"i - yeah," naomi said softly. "good luck. and be safe."

hecate golf club was on the other side of town.

it only took about fifteen minutes to drive there. from the outside, it looked completely normal; a dark brick building next to a large green field, surrounded by a tall blue fence that marvin knew was warded to keep out unauthorized intruders. the sky was just beginning to darken, and there didn't seem to be anyone around that he could see. he stopped in front of the locked gates, glaring before climbing over it, swinging himself to the other side. he was sure he was attracting attention from inside. good. let them try to stop him.

the front of the building was lit up, pale orange lights glowing on the path to the red double doors that marvin promptly knocked on, three times as loudly as he could. he rubbed his arms, shivering in the cold air. fuck, he hoped his brothers were alright. he hoped he'd be able to find them before something bad happened.

would jackie hurt them? would he? marvin didn't like to think so. but then again, marvin had never thought jackie would kidnap and torture his older brother, either. he didn't know anything anymore.

the doors opened, a tall, dark skinned woman wearing a black vest answering the door. marvin didn't recognize her. "if you've left something inside, we can go and retrieve it for you," she said, bored. "if you're looking to apply for a membership, you'll have to wait 'til morning."

marvin felt his eyes spark. "fuck off with that shit," he spat, and the woman's eyes widened. "just ask the goddamn question so i can come inside."

the woman blinked, clearly taken aback. maybe she was new. "have… have you heard of argus s. litvak?" she asked, almost timidly.

"'i believe magic lives in every spirit, lurking, hungry, for those who deserve the knowledge to free the mind and body,"' marvin responded, titling his head up. "i need to see kazuki kamata."

the woman shook her head slightly. "i'll need to contact my supervisor, it's after hours and i have to see your records -"

marvin slammed his fist into the wall, startling the woman. "do you even know who i am?" he shouted, desperately trying to stop his voice from shaking. "marvin "the fucking magnificent" mcloughlin, one of the greatest mages hecate has ever seen?"

he was starting to panic as the woman shook her head again, faster this time, and began to close the door. "wait, please, please, i need help, i can give you rare spells!"

he pulled the book from his jacket, waving it in front of her. "these are all the spells i've ever discovered, some of them are rare and shit, please, this is all i have. i have to find my brothers!"

the woman looked startled. without looking away, she reached up behind her ear and tapped, a small device there lighting up. "miss kamata?" she murmured. "there's a man named marvin mcloughlin here, he wants to see you. says he has rare spells in exchange for your help. no, i don't know either. yes, i'll - are you sure?" she paused. "ok, we'll be right up." she sighed and opened the door fully. "come inside, we'll -"

the second the barrier spells were down, marvin raced through the door, running past the woman despite her cries of protest. "sir - sir, come back, you're not allowed to run off unattended!" he didn't listen. he never did.

he knew exactly where he was going. there were several protection spells that he immediately broke, darting down the brightly lit halls and ignoring the open mouthed stares of various other magicians. he didn't stop until he reached a door at the top of a long flight of stairs with a golden plaque reading "kazuki kamata - please knock before entering." he threw the door open and practically fell inside, gasping and panting. "kazuki -" he started, before realizing there were about ten other people in the room apart from her. he must have burst into a meeting. every one of the sharply dressed magicians was staring at him, eyebrows raised. his cheeks burned, but he averted his gaze from them and instead focused on the woman sitting at her desk.

marvin had always found her to be intimidating. he couldn't help it. she was about six feet and wearing heels to make her even taller, with white jeans and a matching jacket. her black hair was let down to her shoulders, framing her soft face. even from here, her blue eyes bore into marvin, immediately making him regret running all the way up here.

"always the rulebreaker, even after leaving our organization," she said, a smirk forming on her face. "you must have been really desperate to see me."

the other magicians tittered softly. marvin refused to look at them. "kazuki, i need your help," he said, straightening his back. "please."

she tilted her head and stood, her hair floating upwards as she rose into the air and over her desk, landing gently just in front of marvin. "we didn't do our usual alliteration joke. this is a serious issue?."

he let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep control. "my - my brothers are missing, taken by someone magic. i need your help in finding them. please." he looked at her with pleading eyes. "just this one last favour. then i'll go and i won't bother you again."

"would you like me to escort him out, miss kamata?" said a man with frizzy black hair and a casual black suit who was slouching against the wall, arms crossed.

marvin glared at him. "raymond."

the man nodded at him curtly. "marvin."

"ok, come with me." kazuki beckons him to the door and marvin wasted no time racing after her, face burning as he left the room of sniggering magicians behind. the woman walked down the hall, opening the door to an empty room filled with shelves of books. marvin immediately began talking, furious.

"why do you keep that bastard around?" he said angrily, sitting himself on a desk in the centre of the room. "he's such an asshole."

"he's useful," kazuki said. she folds her arm. "teleportation isn't common, you know."

marvin spluttered. "he - he tried to steal my magic books, he cheated on me, i'm pretty sure he tried to kill me at one point -" he was going to continue when he suddenly remembered why he was here, guilt slamming into him. "fuck, my brothers!"

kazuki folded her arms, waiting. marvin began to explain, suddenly panicky again. how had he forgotten, how had his anger gotten the best of him again? yet another strike in the "asshole marvin" book. "kazuki, fuck, my brothers are missing - two of my brothers, one of them is sick, the other one took the other two, i don't know where, i don't know -"

"slow down," kazuki said calmly. she held both hands up and brought them down, like that would make marvin any less panicked. "something is wrong with your brothers?"

marvin couldn't believe what he was hearing. "i - yes, that's not - did you hear what i said?" he rolled his hands in a circle, trying to find the words to explain. "they're missing, ok, i have brothers and they're missing!"

"explain quickly," said kazuki. "and i'll see what i can do."

marvin did, trying his best to make sense. once he'd gone through most of the main details, kazuki nodded, clearly evaluating the situation in her head.

"i see," she said. "a rogue magician. and you think he has a black magic magician with him because…"

"the house fucking reeked of it, kaz, there's no way -"

"you will refer to me as kazuki if you must call me by my first name," she said firmly, and marvin's heart sank. he nodded rapidly.

"ok, ok, ok sure, whatever. can you help, please?"

she narrowed her eyes. "you broke many of the protection spells on the way in here."

"i'm sorry," marvin said, suddenly feeling extremely small.

kazuki pursed her lips. "you also tried to steal from me. or have you forgotten?"

to his horror, marvin felt tears well up in his eyes. "i never meant to hurt you, i'm so, so sorry. please, fuck, i'll…" his breath hitched. "fuck, i have my book, ok? the one you wanted? i'll give you all of it." he pulled the book from his jacket, handing it to a surprised kazuki. "this is all i have. i'm fucking begging you, kazuki, i've never begged for anything in my life but i'm begging now. i can't find them myself. i can't risk them g-getting hurt!"

he scrubbed the tears off his face, embarrassed, and when he looked up again, kazuki had softened. "i see clearly how much you care," she said quietly. marvin just looked to the floor.

after a pause, kazuki spoke again. "fine," she murmured, and marvin raised his head in surprise. "i'll get some of my best on it as soon as i can. if the situation gets bad, i'll call a friend from crawley to help."

marvin sobbed, covering his face with his hands. "fuck, kazuki, thank you, thank you -"

"and then you don't contact us for help again," she said. marvin didn't really expect her to say anything different. "i've saved your ass too many times, marvin mcloughlin."

she silently handed him a tissue from her jacket pocket, and marvin took it, avoiding her eyes. "thank you for everything," he mumbled. "and sorry for being an asshole."

she didn't reply to that. he was grateful all the same.

they were both sitting fully up on the bed now, henrik still holding tightly to chase's arm. he didn't mind. he held him and ran his fingers through his hair, waiting silently for jackie to start.

jackie was sat cross legged across from them, hands twisting in his lap. "suppose i should st-start from the beginning," he muttered. his stutter was starting to come back full force, and he was staring at his lap instead of looking them in the eyes. chase couldn't believe this was the same person who'd tried to throw him into a wall.

"everything was going wrong," jackie began. "henrik had b-been kidnapped and k-kept in that fucking basement for so - for so long. chase's k-kids went missing and you went to jail and came back t-two or so weeks later as a suicidal wreck. jamie… left." he suddenly shook his hands out, biting down on his lip. "anti - he was getting in my head. in my d-dreams. trying to fuck with me. i wasn't gonna let him - wasn't gonna let him hurt us anymore. i was s-so scared, guys, fuck." he covered his face with shaking hands, and chase suddenly felt a rush of warmth for him. he was about to reach out and pat his shoulder when henrik made a small noise, reminding him of what was happening. he sat back again, feeling guilty.

jackie shuddered and continued. "i knew marvin had left hecate cause they - they wanted his b-black magic, they wanted all his spells and shit and he didn't want to give it to them. he was too much of a p-pussy to use the magic he found. but i knew he must have been finding this b-black magic from somewhere. i decided to… to use my own skills to find out."

he meant his talent with computers and hacking, chase knew. he nodded slowly.

"i found… some kind of fucking small or-organization thing. they said - they said they'd sell me some magic i could use to protect you lot." his hand flew to his chest, touching the necklace underneath his hoodie. "b-but it was at a cost."

he paused. chase narrowed his eyes. "the cost of what?"

jackie's lip trembled.

"marvin didn't even notice," he said, very quietly. "he didn't know how p-powerful those spells he had were. neither did i. but it wae good enough for them."

chase's eyes widened, heart pounding. "jackie - you, you - you gave marvin's spells to a random black magic dealing organization?"

"just a few!" jackie protested. "i tore a few pages out of his book, i'm sure marvin has a c-copy somewhere -"

chase covered his mouth and let out a long groan. "oh my god. oh my god."

"but it worked," jackie said, and his grin was back. "the magic worked. it's… it feels like a fucking drug. i'm so… i'm p-powerful. so much more powerful. it goes far beyond my photokinesis. it's like -" he waves his hands around, small sparks of darkness falling off of them. "it's incredible."

he suddenly went quiet.

"i hunted anti d-down," he murmured. "he was all alone in those waterworks, the p-pathetic bastard. really, there was no p-point in him wasting away there anyway. and he - he thought it was just another easy f-fight for him." he gives a sharp laugh. "you should have seen the look on his face when he realized. by then it was too late."

realization dawned on chase. he immediately felt sick.

jackie kept going. "he fought so hard those first few weeks. k-kept sassing me, fighting me. so…" he trailed off. "i m-made sure he would never do that again."

"you killed him?" chase said, voice extremely high in pitch.

jackie shook his head, eyes glazed over. "no."

he didn't elaborate. just continued talking. "it was exhilarating, watching him get q-quieter and fight less. i think it was the lack of elect-tricity that was subduing him. still, he t-tried - tried to - kept t-trying to -" jackie made a choking sound. "marvin found him. anti's in his head." he looked up, eyes wild. "d-d-don't you agree with me, chase, henrik, my brothers, don't you agree i was doing the right thing?"

"you tortured him?" henrik whispered. his voice was hoarse. jackie's face twitched, his eyes changing from blue to black to blue.

"he tortured you," jackie said. "wouldn't you like to know he got what he deserved?"

henrik was shaking. "you're the same as him," he choked out. "how would i know you would not torture me too?"

jackie made a noise of shocked disbelief. "henrik - henny, hen, schneep, i'm your brother!" he tried to reach out to touch him, but chase slapped his hand away, rage suddenly replacing his fear. jackie looked at him, surprised.

"anti is… our brother too," chase said. "like it or not. he's terrible, he's a fucking bastard of a person and he's done horrible things and i will admit, the sound of him suffering doesn't greatly upset me. but by blood, he is our brother. your family bullshit doesn't mean anything."

jackie stared at them. and for a moment, there was no brother in front of them. just a stranger. a stranger with fully black eyes and a disgusted scowl that chase couldn't have ever imagined on jackie's kind face.

"you don't get it," he said.

"you've said this," chase replied.

"i'm trying to protect you," jackie insisted.

"you sound like a broken record," chase said. "over and over. what would you do if we tried to leave? would you torture us too? you've already thrown me with your new magic. why would i trust you not to do it again?"

jackie's mouth opened and closed. he looked like a fish out of water, a man completely out of his element.

he was spared from having to answer when someone began to pound on the front door.

"open up!" came a booming, authoritative voice. "this is the police, and i would recommend opening this door!"

it didn't take them long to find him. of course it didn't. they were hecate, the most powerful magical organization in the world. normally, marvin hated them. today, marvin was grateful. he didn't know what he would have done without them.

"we've located a huge magical spike in new romney," kazuki told him as they quickly walked down a flight of stairs to the front doors. "a motel somewhere - dark magic, magic we haven't seen the likes of in years. there is…" she went quiet for a moment. "i'll talk about that later. we've sent magicians out there already, through portals"

"i can do portals," marvin said quickly. despite being several inches taller than kazuki, he was struggling to keep up with her pace. "please, let me -"

"i was going to advise you took us there anyway, mr mcloughlin," kazuki interrupted smoothly. marvin raised an eyebrow.

"oh, i'm mr mcloughlin now, am i?" he said with a laugh. then he played back what she'd said. "wait, you're coming too?"

"of course i am." she sounded almost offended. "this is unknown magic. whoever your brother has with him must be powerful."

they opened the doors and stepped out into the chilly night. several other magicians were racing around, back and forth into the building. "what kind of magic are we talking?" marvin said. "i've seen black magic. why so much fuss? i mean, of course i'm grateful, but -"

"you don't - i'll explain it all later," she said, sounding stressed. "also, that book you gave me? your magic book? a bunch of the pages are missing. i hope you weren't thinking i wouldn't notice that."

marvin stopped walking. "wh - no, they're not!" he spluttered. "i swear, i swear, i wouldn't risk doing anything that would harm my brothers!"

kazuki stared at him suspiciously for a moment. then she glanced away, shaking her head. "whatever. we'll deal with it later. come round here, don't tell me you've forgotten the portal spots!"

there was of course a premade portal path in every branch of hecate; that was just common sense. "i've never been to new romney before," marvin admitted. "this might be hard."

"just focus." and for a moment, kazuki smiled, and she was just marvin's old friend again, real warmth in her eyes. then it was gone. "and be quick about it, these are your brothers," she snapped.

finally, marvin felt at ease. he was contributing. he knew what he was doing. at last, he was able to help with something.

he closed his eyes and prayed, for jackie's sake, that his brothers were ok.

they were all very quiet.

"police," jackie mumbled under his breath. he'd gone very pale. absentmindedly, he began to tug on his hoodie strings. "fuck, ok, ok."

jackie had been afraid of police ever since he'd gotten arrested for getting in a fight with some guy. he'd spent three hours in jail, waiting until marvin came to collect him. he hadn't spoken for hours afterwards. chase guiltily wondered if they could use that fear to their advantage. his hand touched the gun in its holster on his side, loaded and ready to be used.

the banging continued. "if this door isn't opened within the next ten seconds, we're breaking it down!"

jackie was on his feet in an instant. immediately, the darkness returned to his eyes and face, inky blackness being summoned to his fingertips and forming a whirlwind in the air. the chest of drawers underneath the window was ripped from its place on the floor and slammed against the door, blocking the exit. more furniture around the room followed it, barricading the window as well and preventing anyone from getting in. once he was finished, jackie stepped back, eyes melting back to their usual blue.

"ok," he said, shaking with panic. he turned on his brothers, who were both still holding each other on the bed. jackie's pupils had dilated to small pinpricks. "ok, so we're gonna go out the -"

the door exploded.

one second there had just been silence. then there was a fist of burning fire tearing though the room, bursting through everything stacked in front of the door like it were paper. chase instinctively grabbed his brother at the same time as he grabbed chase, and the force of the blast blew the two of them onto the floor, slamming into the wall. they cowered there against the roaring, thunder like boom of the blast. at one point chase's hearing gave out completely, leaving nothing but a ringing like a constant tinnitus spike from hell. he didn't open his eyes - he couldn't. all he could do was hold his brother close and hope the pain would disappear.

they were outside the motel when the inside of the building blew up.

the journey through the portal had been fine, as kazuki had reassured marvin it would be. it was always slightly disorienting getting used to being in a completely different place, like stepping out of a lift in a building you've never been in before, so when the explosion went off, it took a moment for it to register.

once it did, everything seemed to slow.

"chase!" marvin screamed. his legs were suddenly moving faster than he thought possible, leaving kazuki in the parking lot. "henrik!"

there were magicians, so many of them. magicians, and nonmags, too. he could almost sense the difference in them after having been around both types of people so much. so much blurry movement, screams and panicked cries, racing away from the spot on the second floor where everything was burning. marvin was running towards it. "chase, henrik, jackie, jackie!"

there was so much happening. marvin couldn't even compute everything that was going on at once. he could see a water based magician trying to put out the flames, he could see a woman being thrown back, a man screaming in pain, flames, flames, sparks of coloured magic flying -

and darkness. pure and black, in coils of thick, inky looking magic. it was taking over the fire, but the magicians were fighting back. without looking, marvin relit some flames in his hands and pushed through the smoke, searching, terrified out of his mind. "chase, henrik!" he screamed again, desperate for anything, anything.

a face appeared through the blackness. it took marvin a moment to register who it was, because his face was so filled with dark shadows that he was almost unrecognizable. but marvin would recognize that reddish brown mess of hair anywhere.

jackie. black eyes, black veins, streaks of obsidian trailing down the skin of his face and neck. tendrils of sharp charcoal emerged from his body, wisping into shadows that dissolved to nothing at the ends. when marvin looked at him, his eyes flickered back to blue, fear instantly sparking in them.

marvin had never felt such paralyzing shock in his life.

"it was you," he breathed. the flames hissed in his hands, dying down to embers on his skin. "you were the black magic signal they saw."

jackie just stared.

marvin could see two men helping his brothers in the background, and his heart leapt. they were ok. that was something. that was something.

"i didn't mean for this to happen," jackie murmured. the darkness began to retreat into himself, his body returning to normal.

and before either brother could say anything else, there were disembodied chains of silver wrapping around jackie and he shrieked, spikes of pure black reappearing and attempting to tear through the magic, but there were more magicians upon him and he roared, panic shot through his voice, and there was one second in which marvin could see his blue, blue eyes, burning brighter than any flames or magic he'd ever seen.

"marvin!" jackie howled. "marvin, help, please!"

he just watched. it was all he could do.

he was almost grateful when the flames became too much and he collapsed to the floor in a heap.

what had happened was this.

someone had blocked the door from inside. the group of five magicians who had gotten to the motel first, under the guise of police, had tried to bust it down, but the door couldn't be opened. one of them had the brilliant idea of levitating the furniture from the other side in one fell swoop, vanishing it and reappearing it in the parking lot, and then opening the door. which, in theory, might have actually worked.

but the combination of jackie's unrestrained black magic and the simple levitation spell happening at the same time in such a small capacity had been too much pressure for the tiny room. the explosion had knocked out chase, henrik, jackie and all the magicians for a brief moment, but the blast had cleared the door enough for them to get inside. after marvin had collapsed, kazuki told him, jackie had gone completely off the rails, not holding back before escaping from the chains and vanishing completely. he had killed one magician. two others were injured.

marvin had listened to this whole thing from a hospital bed, where he'd been taken after inhaling so much smoke. once kazuki had finished telling him, he'd rolled over and stared at the wall. he couldn't summon words anymore.

"i'll leave you to your grief," was all she said before gently touching his hair and stroking a strand behind his ear. he'd almost sobbed at the contact, but didn't cry. he still hadn't cried. he didn't think he'd accepted any of it yet.

the nonmag's were convinced it was a gas explosion, and no one was going to say anything otherwise. no nonmags had been hurt. there was something to be grateful for.

chase and henrik were alright. marvin hadn't yet seen them. but raymond - yes, raymond, that bastard - had come to tell him that chase said he was sorry for not realizing and for being a dumbass. normally, marvin would have laughed hearing his ex say those words. today, he didn't say a word.

anti was ok too, apparently. naomi and lucas had been marvin's third and fourth visitors, and had sat on either side of his bed to talk to him. "my friend's friend who's a doctor came over and helped settle him, fixed his arm up as best she could and got some food into him," naomi said. "miss kamata herself later came round to see him, when she told us about the explosion - why didn't you tell me you were friends with her, by the way? i mean, kazuki kamata!"

she was joking, but it just felt like more guilt being stacked on marvin's shoulders. he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly tired. "i don't know. 'm sorry."

naomi seemed to pick up on his mood. "ok, well. anti is in here too, a few rooms away. he's still… pretty sick. luckily, i think the wounds in his mouth were dealt with almost immediately after it happened, or he would have choked on his blood. jackie must have -" she flinched at the look on marvin's face. "sorry. i'm… marvin, i am so sorry."

"me too," lucas said, reminding marvin that he was still there. he took a breath, looking uncomfortable. "i… i'm sure your brother was a great guy."

"he's not dead," marvin snapped, and lucas's shoulders shot to his ears. he cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses awkwardly.

"yes, of course," he mumbled, cheeks burning.

"maybe we should go," naomi said loudly. she jumped to her feet, eyes wide as she nodded towards to the doorway. lucas got the hint and raced out like he was on fire.

naomi turned back to him, a soft sadness on her face.

"i'm sorry," she said quietly. "please, don't blame yourself. i know you, marvin magnificent, and i know that's what you're doing. but… this couldn't have been prevented."

marvin nodded numbly. he could barely hear her anymore.

naomi leaned down and very gently pressed a kiss to marvin's forehead. then she straightened, blinking like she couldn't believe what she'd done. "see you," she said quickly, before following lucas out the room.

marvin touched his forehead gently and felt warmer.

when he turned back to look at his bedside table, a bouquet of multicoloured freesia flowers had grown out of it. they were the most colourful thing in the room.

no one knew where jackie was. his signal couldn't be tracked anymore, which could mean anything from he'd taken the necklace off or he'd died. marvin didn't believe it could be that last one, though. he'd know if jackie was dead. he wasn't sure how, but he'd know.

marvin knew everything about his brother. or he thought he had, once. he wasn't sure if he knew anything anymore.

end act one - beneath the music shop

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #jackieboy man #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #naomi gudmundson #lucas ross #kazuki kamata #the fall

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