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wrathandgreed · 4 years ago

Text

A crafty MC making goodbye gifts for the demon bros (unromanced and romanced).

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: I’m a huge crafter (knitter, crocheter, spinner, weaver, cross stitcher, etc) and I’m currently knitting my husband a winter hat, so I started trying to figure out what a crafty MC would make the brothers as goodbye gifts when they go back to the human world.

Also, this got REALLY REALLY long.

Lucifer

(Unromanced)

This guy is hard to make stuff for.

His aesthetic is VERY tight and leaves no room for mistakes

So a simple winter scarf, in business-black, is probably the way to go.

Somewhat lux yarn, cashmere/silk or alpaca/silk, so it has a sheen

He travels to the human world sometimes, and Diavolo has winter themed events in Devildom sometimes, so a scarf isn’t totally impractical.

He would appreciate the amount of time you spent making it, even if he didn’t get a chance to wear it that often.

(Romanced)

Let’s get more personal, now. You still have the same problem with his aesthetic, and the fact that if you want to give him something ~~personal~~ he won’t be able to wear it openly. His pride says no.

He’s stern in public, but affectionate in private.

You knit a medium-sized decorative pillow cover for his bed, in his signature wine-red.

It’s simple and elegant and can sit on his bed like it’s something he picked up in a Hellhome Goods store, and only *he* knows it’s a private gift.

After swearing him to secrecy, you get Solomon to help you charm the pillow, so it never pills up or wears out, and it maintains your scent forever. (Actually, it’s fair to say you do this for all of the romanced gifts).

“I thought, you know, if I can’t be there with you every night, something of me can?”

Awkward MC is awkward.

He not only appreciates how much time went into the gift (who knows how busy you are better than Lucifer?) but that you spent that much time thinking about him.

Mr. Acts of Service over here. Every stitch is something you did *for him*

You assume he’ll just leave it on the bed, and maybe, if you’re lucky, it’ll help you be the last thing he thinks of at night and the first thing he thinks of in the morning.

Maybe he’ll smile when he sees it, and some of his weariness will lift.

Oh, if only you knew.

Mr. “Stern In Public” wraps himself around the pillow every night. Well. Every time he manages to sleep. Which, let’s face it, isn’t every night.

But when he DOES sleep, it’s with that pillow. If he can’t sleep wrapped around you, this will have to suffice.

Finds he doesn’t sleep well when he travels, because he refuses to bring the pillow with him.

If asked, he says it’s because it’s not important.

But he just doesn’t want to lose it.

It’s too important to him.

Mammon

(Unromanced)

You’ve seen this boy’s room.

You’re not spending hours and hours and tons of money making him something.

You love the guy, but you’ve seen how he takes care of his possessions.

Most of what he owns is chucked aside when the next new-shiny comes along.

You know he loves you to bits and he’ll be careful with whatever you give him.

But “careful” has a different definition for Mammon than for some of the others.

So you knit him a hat. A trendy, slightly-too-small hat in black with a small yellow stripe on the brim.

You can use some lux yarn because, for a single-skein project, investing in cashmere or mohair or something isn’t too awful.

It looks really great on him - the fluff of his white hair, the small yellow stripe, then the wash of black as contrast. It makes his eyes pop and his skin look even warmer.

He wears it to a shoot one day and the photographer loves it

Now everyone wants one

But he has the only one because it’s handmade

Suck it, losers!

The Avatar of Greed finally has something everyone else wants that no one else can get!

(Romanced)

Yeah, you’ve seen his room. You’ve practically lived in his room. But you know he’ll be careful with anything you give him because he loves you.

It would break his heart to have to ask you to fix something you made for him.

You know he’s going to suffer when you leave

You want him to know that you’re always there, even if you’re not *there*

So you knit him a sweater

A big, oversized sweater out of super soft chunky wool with tons of texture.

You finish it early so you can wear it around your room for a few weeks. On the rare nights you sleep alone, you sleep in it.

Again, get Solomon to enchant it.

Now it smells like you.

You wouldn’t notice, but a demon’s sense of smell is far stronger.

“I know it’s not, like, fashionable or anything. But it’s comfy and it can be…..a portable hug?”

His face turns red and he winds up stammering. Obviously. So he puts it on to avoid having to look at you.

Chucks it on over his tshirt. He immediately pulls the neckband back up over his face to take a deep inhale from the fabric.

He looks really cute in it

(He looks really cute in anything, let’s face it)

Might start crying.

Hug him pls.

Any night he feels lonely (which is most nights) he wears this sweater. Falls asleep in it half the time.

It really is like a hug, and the boy needs all the hugs he can get.

Leviathan

(Unromanced)

Out of all the brothers, Levi is the one who will appreciate STUFF. No matter what you make for him, he’ll love it.

It’s limited edition! No one else has anything like this!

So this boy is getting crocheted plushies.

(They’re called amigurumi, and he’ll appreciate knowing that)

You make a mobile for his room

Hanging from it are little plushies of all his favorite sea creatures

Henry 2.0 is the biggest

But there’s a few jellyfish

A whale

You had to completely invent a pattern for a kraken, and it came out okay!

You had some extra yarn, so you made a few extra jellyfish

They get suction cups.

Now he has jellyfish in his tanks and outside his tanks

Spends the next hour rigging up the mobile over his tub so he can see them before he goes to sleep and remember how much his true friend cares about him.

(Romanced)

This took….time to make.

You had to basically invent two patterns from scratch

There was a LOT of frogging.

And swearing.

When Levi opens the box and pulls aside the tissue paper, there’s two crocheted figures

One of each of you

(The one of you may or may not be dressed as Ruri-Chan)

“You made these…..for me?”

Tell him you made ONE of them for him. You take the one of him and hug it, “This one comes with me. So I’ve still got you.”

(Don’t let him cry!)

(Too late)

Then you show him the best part - each figure has a magnet in one hand.

When they get close to each other, the magnets snap together and the figures hold hands :)

Even though the two amigurumi will be in two separate realms, those magnets will want to find their partner.

Levi is floored - this is just like something out of an anime! Like two halves of a locket or something!

He can’t even find words. Possibly not for the next hour or two.

But he makes the cutest little squeaks and the verbal equivalent of keysmashes.

Like Lucifer, he sleeps with your gift. But he also carries it around his room. It has pride of place on his desk, and he purchases a stand so you can sit with him while he games or does his online schooling.

He talks to it like he would talk to you, especially on busy days when you can’t actually talk to him on the D.D.D.

It eases the feeling that you left Devildom and forgot about him. Eases - just a little - the jealousy of every human in your world who gets to talk to you. Because none of THEM have a handmade you. Just him.

Satan

(Unromanced)

This guy is either the easiest one to make for, or the hardest.

Like, you could make him a stuffed kitty. Or knit him a tie. But he’s not a super sentimental guy (unless romanced) and, in the end, that’s just stuff. His room is FULL of stuff.

Soooooo, you take out your sewing skills and sew him a traditional Sherlock hat - the deerstalker one, the one that never was actually in the books, but is still associated with the character.

The most straightforward of the brothers, Satan is indeed touched that you spent so long making something for him and he tells you so.

Insists he’ll wear it when solving mysteries.

You laugh, but he actually does wear the hat when reading mysteries now.

It reminds him of the trip to London - how he got to solve an actual mystery, save his brother, and see the sites with his friend.

(Romanced)

YouTube made it look so easy.

It’s just paper, right? Paper and thread and a needle. You can sew clothes and stuffed animals. How hard can it be to sew together pages to make a book?

Oh, my sweet summer child.

You considered actually pulping and making your own paper, but after the seventh ruined batch of signatures you’re grateful you talked yourself out of that one.

You also considered an actual leather binding, but go for boards and a more simple Japanese sewing technique.

This project is the perfect thing to give to Satan - not just because it’s a book, but because making it is causing you SO MUCH RAGE.

Who needs firewood when you have the ruined attempts of your gift?

You may have thrown various attempts on the floor and stomped on them before chucking them in the fire.

It takes weeks but you finally get the book together. Now the REAL work can begin.

Every book the two of you read together. Every book you discussed. Every book you recommended to him. Every single one gets a page - a title, a date, and a discussion of your discussion of the book.

The book itself becomes a tour through your growing relationship.

While not as stern as Lucifer in public, Satan is also definitely fond in private - he’s completely unsurprised to receive a book as a present, but once he begins leafing through it, the semi-smug smile vanishes.

He looks shocked, and his hold on the book gentles.

His fingers run down the page, tracing your handwriting on a page particularly precious to him.

Speechless for a few minutes, he finally returns with only “I love it.”

Said so softly and sincerely that you can’t doubt his sincerity.

There are blank pages at the end and he begins to use them to document newer books he’s reading - ones he wants to discuss with you later.

Asmodeus

(Unromanced)

Good luck keeping your gift a secret!

Asmo loves craft and crafty things, so he’s always curious about what you’re making and fascinated with the process.

Probably helps with suggestions for the others, especially for a romanced brother (although WHAT you see in them is beyond him, after all, what can THEY have that Asmo doesn’t?)

Because he seems to pop up out of nowhere, he’s already seen his gift a few times. Thankfully, he thinks you’re making it for yourself.

Bonus, he’s whiny and jealous about it, and obviously wants it for himself. So, score. You know he’ll like it.

It seems simple; a pair of fingerless gloves in his signature hot pink. But the yarn is mohair lace (you’ve cursed at it many, many times for tangling on you) held double with merino/silk black yarn.

The gloves are lacy and airy, sensual and soft. They feel wonderful to wear, and look great with a majority of his outfits.

He absolutely squeals and hugs you when he opens up the gift - the gift he was so jealous of! Of COURSE you were making it for him this whole time!

Wears them constantly. His Devilgram pics start having a lot of “what am I holding?” themes. Cups of coffee or hot chocolate. Someone else’s hand. A ticket for an absolutely fabulous play. And a LOT of peace signs and finger-hearts :)

(Romanced)

This one requires the cooperation - willing or not - of everyone in the house.

You start with your DDD. That’s easy enough.

Since you’ll need Sol’s help anyway, it’s easy enough to plunder the pictures on his phone, too.

The rest of the brothers you get, one by one. Belphie’s you steal while he’s sleeping, although you found nothing useful on it. Beel just lets you borrow his phone. You ask to borrow Mammon’s while he’s gambling and he doesn’t notice that it takes you an hour to give it back. Satan - the real photographer - must be taken into your confidence - you might need his help later anyway. But he’s particularly close to Asmo, and knows how to keep his mouth shut.

You stalk Lucifer for a few weeks. You ask Satan for advice. You consider asking Diavolo to just order Lucifer to hand over his phone.

Finally you just ask him for it.

Getting a hold of Asmo’s phone is the hardest bit. You have to wait until he’s deep in a spa day, hanging around in his tub with both a sheet mask AND cucumber slices.

Then you make off with his phone. And go through the photos.

His wonderful Devilgram-worthy pictures you ignore. You start looking for the ones that he rejected, but kept. The one where both of you cracked up laughing right before the photo snapped. The one where he dropped his hot chocolate and then stole yours.

The two of you in clay face masks and toe spacers? Yep. The one you took of him with super-wide eyes as he put on mascara? Definitely. Selfies of you two surrounded by his brothers, by Sol, by Simeon, even a few with Luke.

The one Satan took of the two of you dancing at one of Diavolo’s balls, so lost in each other that the rest of the ball might as well not exist? Of course.

You combine them with the ones taken by everyone else in the house.

Culling them for the best takes weeks. Because you don’t just want the ~~prettiest~~ pictures or the ones designed for social media.

You pick the ones with emotional meaning, ones of important events, but mostly you choose pictures of genuine laughter and affection. Ones that show how much the two of you love each other, and how much true friendship exists in the house.

How much he’s not alone, and how much he is loved. How much the people around him appreciate him.

With Satan and Solomon, you gather and enchant a simple glass cube.

It displays these photos, gently lit up, like the digital picture frames in the human world.

“I want you to remember me,” you say quietly. “I want you to remember how much fun we’ve had, and how much I love you for you.”

Not gonna lie, Asmo cries.

The cube moves around his rooms depending on where he is - it’s by his tub if he’s taking a bath. It’s on his vanity when he’s putting on his makeup. He credits it with helping his relaxation and makeup game.

It’s always on a nightstand by his bed before he goes to sleep. Sometimes he just lays on his back, puts the cube on his stomach, and watches memories float through it.

What you wanted - for him to remember that he’s loved for more than his sexual prowess - comes true. The pictures remind him of the life he has outside of a bedroom.

He starts spending more time with his brothers. He starts taking more pictures.

His followers appreciate the diversification in his content :)

He appreciates how much you love getting texts of those photos - the not-social-media-ready ones, but the REAL ones.

Beelzebub

(Unromanced)

I mean, you could just bake the guy a dozen cakes.

But then he’d eat them and they’d be gone.

And you can’t make him anything that looks like food, because he’d eat it.

You’ve finished your gifts for half of the brothers before you even figure out what to make for him.

And then it comes to you…..socks.

He’ll use them.

He won’t eat them.

They’re not the most interesting gift, but you’re running out of time.

You actually manage to find a pattern covered with colorwork triangles that mimic his usual shirt.

You get Satan to charm them for you - the problem with handmade socks is that they wear out FAST. Not anymore!

Beel LOVES them.

(To be fair, he’d probably love anything you gave him)

Once he knows they won’t wear out, they become his Game Socks.

Like most athletes, he becomes superstitiously obsessed with the socks, wearing them for absolutely every game he plays.

Is convinced they help him win.

(Romanced)

You encounter basically the same problem as above - what on earth to make him?

You want something that reminds him how much you love him, and it absolutely can’t be anything he could even be tempted to eat, because he’d never forgive himself.

You try a number of times to build a small tapestry loom, but that skill seems to be beyond you.

Finally you have to beg Lucifer to pick one up for you in the human world.

Once you get it, you’re off and running.

Now, just because things can’t look like food doesn’t mean it can’t be inspired by it.

Red yarn, the exact juicy red of an apple - but here, just an abstract circle. Mixes of pale cream, yellow, and red in a triangle - an abstract pizza slice.

Those cookies Barbatos makes? There. The broccoli-cheddar soup you learned to make for her? Now just an orange blob with tiny green squiggles. And on, and on.

And buried, scattered throughout, little woven hearts.

The hearts are made of slightly different yarn, puffier and thicker, so they stand out just a little bit.

In the end, you have a decent-sized wall hanging, full of texture and shapes that are just reminiscent enough of food to bring a smile to Beel’s face, but not enough to actually be worth eating.

He passes the hanging every day, and every day he brushes his fingers over the yarn or through the fringe; a physical reminder of you.

Belphegor

(Unromanced)

This guy is probably the easiest one to make things for.

Is it soft? Is it cuddly? Can he use it as a pillow? Can he snuggle it like a stuffed animal?

Click “yes” on any of those questions, and you have a happy - well, a slightly less annoyed - Belphie.

Which is why you take this as a challenge. The easy answer - a pillow - is BORING. And the other easy answer - a blanket - would take WAY too much time.

So, like Levi, he gets a plushie.

But not just any plushie.

He gets a plushie of Lucifer.

Lucifer…..on a pastel unicorn.

Belphie starts cackling the moment he opens it, which is fair, because you laughed a fair bit designing and making it.

He starts leaving it where Lucifer can find it, then saying that the elder can’t do anything about it, because MC made it and there’s no way he’d want to harm anything made by MC.

Satan tries to steal it.

In the end, an “anonymous” Devilgram is created, dedicated to the “adventures” of this particular plushie.

It’s all fun and games until Diavolo wants one.

(Romanced)

Well, for your boyfriend, the time and effort involved in making a blanket is just fine.

You debate endlessly - comprehensive color scheme? Granny squares or stripes? How heavy?

You go with your gut instinct - this isn’t a boy who cares about color schemes or blanket styles.

(Just look at his clothes, seriously.)

He cares about one thing - comfort.

You find the softest, smushiest yarn you can, and a pattern you can tolerate working on for like 100 hours.

You go old-school; a granny square blanket like the ones that pretty much every person had thrown over the couch in the 70s and 80s. The perfect nap blanket.

Black… mostly black, with some bright accent colors. Kind of obnoxious accent colors, actually. You figure it’ll appeal to his (dubious) sense of humor. Also it’ll piss Lucifer off seeing it around the house, clashing with literally everything in the oh-so-perfectly-decorated Gothic interior.

This one requires….special enchantment.

A little bit of ritual, and that blanket will fold up into a tiny square; easy to carry from place to place.

Belphie is torn between wanting to carry it around everywhere, like his pillow, and to leave it in the attic room, always waiting for him.

Depending on his mood, he’ll do one or the other.

But no matter what, he also sleeps juuuust a little bit better under it, snuggled up under your love.

You make him the Lucifer plushie, too. It’s too funny not to :)

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nyan-koii · 3 years ago

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Hashira ft. Sabito as genshin impact players

aunotes : Bad grammar ahead! I didnt proofread it so be aware of brain damage. plus i initially wrote it at the 1.6 update

PART 1 : T.Muichiro, R.Kyojuro, K.Shinobu, S.Sanemi, U.Tengen

Muichiro : he probably would be uninterested at first. He's more to first person shooting game or anything other than this concept of farming or investing. So that's why when he saw yuichirou banging his fist on his desk, trying to get his fav character, he would simply just watch

"Fck this game, i've had enough,"

"But you havent finish your wishing things yet,"

Stares. "How about you give it a try mui. You might get the character i want,"

"You sure about that? You might get angry at me," "better than nothing. Now go go, get em you donkey,"

His first ten pulls on the game brings out a light we all want to see

"Eh is tha-" "AAAA A FUCKING 5 STAR FCK FCKFCK,"

Apparently, it was one of the luckiest wish yuichiro had ever seen so far

"OHMYFUCK, you GOT A GODDAMN KLEE, QIQI AND SUCROSE WTFF???"

"I think i get your fav character?"

"Yeahh!! More than that to be honest. I want klee but you brought me two more person," sniffles and cries "you're really lucky mui. You should try and play the game,"

"It's probably the system. I doubt im that lucky tho,"

Nah, he really is lucky. Apparently he wished for his friends and got what they all really wanted for so long

"Thank you for getting me the aquila favonia, muichiro,"

"It's nothing really. I just simply press the button. It might be the system that's giving you the thing you want when i wish,"

"But still, even if i were to wish, i can get really scared and paranoid over it,"

"That's bad. You shouldnt invest yourself that much in the game tanjiro. It's just a game,"

"Ehehehe, i guess so. But you're really good at it muichiro! If you download it, we can play together :D!"

!!!!

It took the word "play together" to get muichiro down on his knee for that game. Usually the idea of playing with your friends is not that interesting. So when tanjiro said that, you bet he's going to play it

Type of player

Extremely lucky it's not even real. He got a five star on the beginner's banner

Fast farming. He probably will complete all the quest and become an endgame player within one month

"I just wanted to play with tanjiro..." bashfully

He's really good with whatever he's doing. Attack combo, dodging, elemental reaction and all sorts of stuff. If he invest more of his time on artifacts, he would probably even one shot it!!

He's very lucky. Very

Kyojuro : he wouldnt even know the existence of this game. Well, he took a glimpse of it one day and boom, heart stolen. Maybe it was the fiery burning passion in bennett that made him play the game.

'oh wow!! What a determined young boy! Even though he has a very bad luck he still keep pushing forward! Amazing!!'

'I want to be like him'

Kyojuro's the type of player to read and pay attention to every single lore of his fav character. Bennett, oh my how he wish he could've had bennett in his team. Every wishes he made would make him a c6 bennett main if only barbara wont stop coming home

"I really like you barbara but i dont want you!! Thank you for the c6 though!! I promise to use you in the future but just-" he prepares to wish

"not NOW!!" Clicks

The highest con of bennett he had ever gotten is probably c1. One day the paimon's bargain shop offered bennett as their monthly character. Kyojuro had never been so excited over a game before. He usually perks up over academics and not this kind of thing. But it's bennett, the character he admires the most.

Unfortunately he couldnt get it due to low currency. He had never feel so sad in his life.

"I shall not give up. Dont worry, i will be a c6 bennett main!!!"

He will be a c6 bennett haver!!

Type of player :

Carefully reads every stories and listens to their lines attentively. He finds it amazing how the company spent their everything on this game. It amazes him. From the stories, lores and lines, he truly appreciates it.

Balance his team pretty well. He mains bennett so he doesnt need that much of a healer in his team.

Enjoys bennett's hangout very much!! He tried to not get him killed by the dungeon's trap but ended up having to sacrifice him which ultimately ends the route. He had never felt so down and guilty before.

Not much of a damage dealer. He prefers to play it in normal mode and doesnt care that much about one shotting monster.

He feeds his character three meals a day!! If only there's a sleep option, he would be sending bennett to sleep first before the rest.

Everyone loves his teapot

Shinobu : found the game while she's scrolling through the app store out of boredom. Initially she played it on her phone but due to the fps and a really bad ping, so bad that douma wouldnt find her interesting anymore, she finally downloaded the game on her pc where things has starting to get real

"Ara, shinobu chan, it's lunch time already. Come downstairs please,"

"Sis give me five more minutes, JUST FIVE PLEASE I NEED TO KICK CHILDE's ASS,"

"he's not going anywhere sweetie,"

"yEAHH BUT MY BP IS,"

'Bp?'

"DIE DIE DIE!!" Aggresive clicking intensifies

"Shinobu chan dont hurt the keyboard that much!!"

She got lucky on the beginner's banner too and pulled a 5 star along with bennett and noelle. Who's the 5 star? Diluc Ragnvindr in all of his glory. Shinobu benched him sadly. She prefers sword over any other weapon

"I mean he's cool i guess but i just really dont get that 'WOAHHH COOL' vibe from him you know?"

"then give your diluc to me! I really want him so bad shinobu chan!"

Deep sighs "yeah sure. You can have my c2 diluc mitsuri..."

Loses 50/50 to diluc everytime everyone would think she either is lucky or cursed by the amount of that man greeting him on the screen. She still bench him though, sadly

"Im begging you, give me jEANN THE GRANDMASTER I NEED HEALER iN MY PARTY TO DO ABYSS

Type of player :

Suffers a lot in the abyss because she just want the primos which is a valid reason to do because that's the only thing that keeps her going

She's a sword character main. She'll properly build every character as either support or dps. The support would be kaeya and bennett, and her main dps ayaka

Ayaka main btw

Honestly at some point she wanted to quit the game because of how tiring it is but then inazuma came out

Fragile resin = 0

Resin = 160/160 happens once in a blue moon

"i should probably control myself with the amount of resin i've used,"

"But i cant,"

Hates domain but always can be seen playing in there

Only coops if mitsuri is there

"So that someone can calm me down,"

"That's not a really good reason shinobu chan,"

Sanemi : dude probably know the game through obanai. He watched the latter play and finds it interesting on how high the numbers he dealt. He loves challenges so a game like genshin impact would probably satisfy his need.

"Obanai, are you hearing this shit?"

"What is it sanemi, im busy doing this event,"

"That loser giyuu is also playing the game,"

"Oh yeah i know,"

"YOU KNOW? WHY YOU DIDNT TELL ME??"

"i just know right after you told me,"

"...."

Sanemi's a meta but a mediocre one. He's meta but he doesnt show it that much. Probably buys welkin once in every three months or when he really needs it same goes with battle pass too. Honestly, he really just use his money when he really needs something

"Donno if my allowance can buy me a welkin so i'll probably skip,"

"But the next banner is zhongli's,"

"....."

"Ah fuck it," buys

My man cant dodge after he got zhongli. Its very painful because he used to studies the enemies movement in the early game so that he can utilizes it on the team but zhongli's shield is so tank he forgot that dodging exists

"Im gonna kill you and you and you hhahaahhaah just you wait im gonna shred all of yo- oh shit zhongli's shield. puT IT BACK PUT IT BACK ON,"

That one event where zhongli's shield plays an important role in the domain? Yeah, he felt like a god at that time. Even got his c2 on his rerun. Sanemi just really like zhongli because it kinda reminds him of himejima. Calm and wise and strong too. He looks up on that kind of person

"Zhongli sama, im in debt for all of your hard work protecting my team," bows and wipes tears

Type of player :

Spends a little money on the game to get what he wants

Zhongli main

Is that one player that has hoards of food but doesnt even use it

"Why need healer when you have zhongli's shield,"

Compare to kyojuro, he doesnt even touch the teapot because he finds it ridiculous and bothersome to create and design everything in it

Loves one shotting bosses and compares it to giyuu. He ask for advices from obanai regarding team build supports and stuffs

Doesnt do character's story quest. The key is full every single time. He unlocks it but leaves the quest like that.

"Ah shit, i accidentally activate the quest,"

His friend list only has obanai in it. Whenever people sent him friend request, he wouldnt hesitate, more like wouldnt care to accept it

They either have to coop in obanai's world or his world and after that, unfriend immediately

Says thank you after coop because he has manners and then completely disappears

"Zhongli main forever,"

Tengen : played since 1.0 this madlad has been staying loyal to the game ever since. Quite huge amount of money he spend on this game to be honest but he never gets broke by it. You can see his regular donation to the game by purchasing welkin and battle pass and some genesis crystal too. He's loaded with money, he didnt know what to do with it.

Uzui also plays honkai impact and guns girl Z so when he saw the unknown god at the intro , he was not surprised.

"Oh we have to pick between the siblings? Cool cool co- oh hi kiana,"

"Thats so herrscher of void hahahahah,"

Although he is a loyal fan to MihoYo games, he lost his composure when he saw the 1st genshin anniversary reward because what was that. Imagine getting billions of money and they give us this? Tengen cant believe this shit

"Oh god wtf was that reward, i have to draw to get a welkin and some primos?? aND I ALSO HAVE TO BE LUCKY? WHAT-"

"WHERE'S MY FREE MONA,"

In need of mona. He needs mona so bad he literally spent his money on standard banner to get mona but always ends up with qiqi. Not that he's complaining but he just wants the astrologist to complete the support team

"GOD QIQI YOU AGAIN? WTF WFF WTF-" converts genesis crystal to primigems

"Tengen, you should control yourself!"

"SHUT UP KYOJURO, IM GONNA WASTE MY MONEY TILL I GET HER,"

"yeah but my f2p ass is hurting with how many bennett cons you got," droops

Tengen sees potential in every character. Everyone has their weakness and strength so when kokomi comes out, he diss her at first but then realize maybe its a new way for a character. Adds the uniqueness if he may say so.

"Meh i dont care honestly. You guys should pull whoever you find nice or beautiful. Like me ;)"

"Who do you main uzui?"

"Beidou,"

Type of player

Spoils the storylines, lores, leaks A LOT THE REST HAVE TO BLOCK HIM ON SOCIAL MEDIA

Speed runs the game and has become an endgame player ever since but he still does his daily commission and helps people with domains and stuffs

R5 every battle pass weapon

Fights azhdaha for fun and to test out his characters rather than ruin guards and stuff

Mona wanter

Puts traveller as the pfp and doesnt display any showcase of his characters and namecards. You can only see his achievements and spiral abyss ( 12-3 ). Says its for fun and mystery

Throws a lot of pickup lines and roleplays a lot. Spams your chatbox messages with stickers and censored stuffs

Probably steals your ores and exotic things like violetgrass, qingxin and silk flowers

Screams in the chatbox whenever he saw Mona until Kyojuro had to calm him down

Changes signature every single time and sometimes put spoilers in it

In every survey he would complain "MihoYo where the fuck is my Mona,"

Doesnt heals his characters

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer hashira #kny hashira #tokitō muichirō #shinazugawa sanemi #shinobu kochou #uzui tengen #rengoku kyojuro #kamado tanjiro #kochou kanae #iguro obanai #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #hashira headcanons

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! So, something that always intrigued me is the concept of “reverse aus,” and I’ve been thinking about that in the context of Cobra Kai for a while now. How do you think it would go down if Demetri was the one to get roped into Cobra Kai? Obviously, I don’t think he would be as into as Eli canonically was (probably due to it becoming a special interest for him), but I’d be curious to hear your take on it. Would Eli end up going to Miyagi-Do like canon Demetri did, or would Demetri and Eli sort of become the new Evil Karate Husbands™️? And possibly, how do you think Demetri and Johnny’s dynamic would go? (I’m just going to awkwardly add that this is cc-tinslebee, coming to you live from my main blog because I don’t think Tumblr let’s sideblogs send asks-)

So this is actually the SECOND ask I’ve gotten about this scenario--Cherry sent in another one!--so I figured I’d give it a stab. Took me a while to work out how I think it would go and how everything would play out different if Demetri and Eli’s roles were reversed, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I tried to make it more interesting than just “Demetri does all the stuff Eli does and Eli does all the stuff Demetri does.”

Also I lowkey LOVE the idea of Evil Karate Husbands and even though that isn’t the direction this particular AU goes in, I might do a divergent spin-off AU to explore that too??? Because man...the thought of Miguel desperately trying to save his two best friends who have fallen to the dark side...*cries*

Fair warning that this AU is gonna get dark as shit--I fully belive things would’ve gotten equally fucked up between them in a role reverse AU, just, ah...in slightly different ways. A lot of this will not be Happy Times later on, much like their canon relationship XD

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

After getting his ass handed to him--for trying to stick up for Eli, no less--Demetri was pissed. Why the hell was he paying some guy to beat him up for daining to have a problem with him bullying his best friend? Going home in a rage, he nearly texted Miguel to tell him he was quitting--but something stopped him just before he hit Send.

He remembered the look on Eli’s face just after Kyler shoved him away. He remembered seeing Eli stiffen when Kyler grabbed him by the chin, practically feeling the terror emanate from his friend’s body. He remembered how completely and infuriatingly helpless he felt.

It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. But maybe if Miguel was onto something--maybe if karate really could protect him and Eli from the bullies--it could be the last.

Mr. Lawrence (or Sensei Lawrence, as he obnoxiously insisted on being called) hardly let up on bullying Eli. Even at Eli’s request not to call him “Lip” and the pleading of his star student Miguel Diaz himself, the man only seemed to crack down harder--in some sort of twisted effort to “toughen Eli up,” Demetri guessed. Demetri defended Eli every single time, not mincing any words mouthing off at Sensei Lawrence. It got Demetri punched in the face, flipped on the mat, saddled with much harder drills than the rest of the class, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t about to let anyone treat Eli like that, no matter what pain he had to endure for it.

Johnny, meanwhile, is immensely annoyed by this obnoxious, sarcastic kid who just can’t stop running his mouth--but working him twice as hard as the rest of the class is proving to be fruitless in shutting him up. But, Johnny’s finding, Demetri constantly antagonizing him doesn’t have to be a hindrance. Anger like that can be weaponized--the more he provokes Demetri, the more he insults and belittles that Eli kid he’s so attached to, the harder Demetri punches. The quicker he moves when he fights. The stronger he kicks. Johnny sometimes comes home after training covered in nasty bruises, almost entirely from sparring Demetri--they’re enough to make Carmen and Rosa Diaz worry he’s getting jumped on the way home.

One day Johnny takes his ribbing of Eli just a little too far, hoping to get an especially vicious reaction out of Demetri. Eli, pushed to the end of his rope, runs out of the dojo, barely holding back tears. Demetri starts to go after him, but Miguel puts a hand on his arm and stops him, saying they can both check up on him later.

When Demetri finds Eli after practice, Eli’s sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore, Deme. No matter what you say to him, he just keeps picking on me. It never stops.” Demetri winces, because Eli isn’t wrong--Sensei Lawrence really hasn’t stopped bullying Eli at all, and while Demetri was busy letting himself get riled up by it, he didn’t actually think to see how it was affecting Eli. “Well, I know it sucks now, and Mr. Lawrence is a huge asshole, but we’re learning to be tough,” Demetri reasons. “We’re learning to be intimidating. A few more months here, and the bullies will never touch us again! Just like Miguel!” And Eli just scowls, uncharacteristically angry for his timid self, and says “Well, it’s not worth it if I have to feel like shit the whole time! If every time I step in here I get everything about me picked apart, over and over again! I’m done with this, Demetri.”

And just like that, Eli is out of the dojo. Demetri can’t help but be disappointed--he’d looked forward to them training together, and seeing Eli become a badass, fearless fighter who could hand Kyler’s ass to him after all those fucked up things he said to Eli. And to make matters worse, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t stop using Eli as fuel to rip out Demetri’s rage long after Eli’s gone. “Oooh, Loudmouth, feeling sad today? Missing Lip the Quitter?” “You keep throwing punches like that, and you could get beat up by that loser with the fucked lip you were so enamored with. Although knowing you, you’d let him win anyways.” And Demetri can’t help but hate the man, but damn, if it doesn’t feel good to land an especially good hit on him, or jab him in the thigh with a powerful kick.

But things aren’t bad--Demetri still has Miguel, and their new friend Aisha. Eli still hangs out with them outside of practice, and indulges Demetri in his ever-increasing ramblings about martial arts, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable karate tends to make Eli. If Demetri likes it that much, maybe he should make an effort to show interest in it. The four of them crash Yasmine’s birthday party, and Demetri even finds himself smooth-talking them into getting alcohol with his newfound confidence. After all, if he can land punches faster than a snake can strike, how difficult can it be to weasel his way into getting a little beer?

Meanwhile Moon, feeling understandably unfulfilled in her popular clique, takes an interest in the Cool New Karate Gang in town, and after apologizing to Aisha at the beach rager, the two strike up a friendship. She comes to hang out with their group more and more, and Eli finds her surprisingly easy to talk to. Moon constantly makes an effort to include him when the others get to wrapped up talking about karate, and he appreciates her kindness and sincerity. It’s odd, really, how easy it is to have a conversation with her, considering how nervous he tends to get around her. But Eli doesn’t think too much about it.

When it comes time for the tournament, Moon and Eli go together to support their friends. Eli finds his gaze flickering back and forth between Moon and Demetri, lingering on each of them longer than he would care to admit--and he can’t quite explain why. Something about Moon’s wide, excited smile, the smell of cherry shampoo in her hair...but also Demetri’s smug, triumphant smirk when he pulls off an especially impressive move, the way his wiry arm muscles ripple when he fights. They’re both just so...captivating.

Demetri, for his part, is ruthless. Much more so than Eli has ever seen him be. He’s always been sarcastic and cynical, but resigned to his fate--at the tournament, Demetri lashes out in vicious ways the old Demetri would never have had the courage to pull off. He talks shit to the other contestants far beyond what’s considered “sportsmanlike”--and Eli can tell he’s not holding back, with the theatrical body language channeling every awful thing he’s saying.

Demetri fights like lightning--he weaves and maneuvers and strikes at breakneck speed, a limber, flashing form hitting all across his opponent’s bodies before they have any idea what’s happening. He dodges hits and jumps aside like he has some cosmic sense of when and where they’re coming. And it scares Eli, seeing a viciousness and relentlessness in Demetri that he’s never encountered before--but somehow, he finds, he just can’t look away.

Season 2

After the tournament, Demetri’s life has never been better. At the summer’s start, he’s still riding the high of the Cobra Kai tournament win. He didn’t take home the trophy, but suffice to say he got much farther than anyone believed a scrawny, lanky nerd ever would, and he is incredibly smug about it. He realizes, at the end of the day, he’s gotten what he always wanted after all--the bullies don’t come near him and Eli at all, and he can rest easy, knowing Eli is finally safe. However, he’s so busy embracing his new skills that at times, he almost forgets that was ever even an issue. His newfound fighting prowess has caught the attention of Yasmine, of all people--maybe someone who can throw kicks that good isn’t as much of a loser as she originally thought.

She finds out after her family’s plans to go to France for the summer fall through, and she finally patches things up with Moon after their fallout at the beach party. Moon can’t stop gushing about how amazing Demetri was at the tournament--both she and her new friend Eli (who Yasmine definitely thinks seems like a weirdo, but hey--maybe if Moon thinks he’s worth her time, he can’t be that much of a loser) were so impressed with him. Interest piqued, Yasmine joins their little but ever-growing group. She finds herself quickly drawn in by Demetri’s ever-growing confidence, intelligence, and surprisingly enjoyable (if somewhat annoying) sense of humor, and before long, the two are dating.

Yasmine and Aisha are...cool. Kind of. Yasmine doesn’t quite apologize, and the two aren’t friends by any stretch of imagination, but they tolerate each other, and Yasmine refrains from making awful comments and picking on Aisha in front of their friends. Aisha, for her part, does her best not to lash out or be mean to Yasmine either, keeping the peace mainly for Demetri’s and Moon’s sakes.

Meanwhile, it would take an idiot not to notice the rather starstruck looks Eli’s been shooting in Moon’s direction. Moon, for her part, is either entirely oblivious or simply doesn’t even think to consider a shy, timid, nerdy kid as a romantic option, even if she does consider him a friend.

Oddly, Demetri finds himself extremely bothered by Eli’s doe-eyed crush on Moon. He really can’t place why--he has a girlfriend already, so it really shouldn’t bug him so much that Eli is finally growing noticably interested in girls too, now that they tend to be in closer proximity. And it’s not even like Moon seems to be at all interested in reciprocating. Maybe, he figures, it’s the fact that Moon never would have even looked their way if it weren’t for the fact that he and Miguel and Aisha were the “Cool Karate Gang.” The same karate gang, of course, that Eli quit. That Eli didn’t have it in him to fully be a part of. And yet here he is, reaping the benefits still.

Interestingly, Yasmine also seems bothered by Eli’s affections for her friend. Demetri feels her stiffen beside him and sees her shooting disapproving looks whenever she catches Eli staring at Moon. Demetri isn’t sure why she seems to take issue with this too--perhaps she thinks Moon is too good for Eli, and her friend deserves better than a shy, awkward nerd.

Something about this mindset very much rubs Demetri the wrong way, but he pushes the feeling aside. Maybe he should count his blessings instead of being so inwardly critical of his girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets to date the hottest girl in school.

The day of Valley Fest arrives, and Yasmine goes to support her boyfriend. Moon and Eli tag along, eager to support their friends as well. Caught up in the thrill of the blaring music, the bright, flashing lights, the audience cheering, Demetri feels a wave of pride as he looks at his little group of friends that came for him, yelling and whooping and jumping up and down. For some reason, he finds his gaze drawn specifically to Eli, wearing a grin bigger than Demetri’s seen in months and eyes absolutely glowing.

Suddenly Demetri feels an overpowering urge to wrap Eli up in this world he’s fallen in love with, immerse him entirely in the karate that’s made Demetri feel so much more happy and free in the past several months. Grinning, he strides forward and reaches down, using the absurd upper body strength he’s built up since he’s started karate to yank Eli up onto the stage. He hands his best friend a wooden board and steps back, racing forward and snapping it in half with a jumping roundhouse kick. For a few seconds, Eli can do nothing but stare at the broken board, something shifting inside of him.

After that, Eli decides maybe it’s time to give karate another go. Something about the way Demetri positively shone onstage--how genuinely happy all of it seemed to make him--makes him thing it can’t be so bad, even if he does get taunted for his lip again.

He stops by the dojo the following week, gathering up every ounce of courage he has to ask that mean blonde man how he goes about joining the dojo again. He’s hoping against hope that maybe, after all these months of teaching students and a tournament win under his belt, the edge of his pathetic cruelty will at least have been taken off.

No such luck. Upon seeing Eli walk into the dojo, Johnny greets him with “Hey, Lip is back! Real world not treat you as nicely as you thought?” The two are, regrettably, completely alone in the dojo. Eli sucks in his breath--Demetri isn’t around, so if anyone is going to defend him, it’ll have to be him himself.

“Could you please not call me that?” His voice shakes as he says it, but nonetheless, he finishes the statement. It occurs to him that not once in his (admittedly brief) stay in Cobra Kai did he simply...request that Sensei Lawrence not call him Lip. Demetri’s approach was always to get angry about it, go off on the sensei about how wrong it was to mock someone’s appearance, but Eli himself had never been the one to make a case for Sensei Lawrence to treat him better.

It hardly helped. Sensei Lawrence just claimed that if he didn’t want him to call him Lip, he shouldn’t have a freaky lip, and then went on to claim whoever did his cleft lip surgery must have done an awful job. Eli attempted to move away from the topic, but Sensei Lawrence didn’t let up. “It’s hard to when it’s right in front of me. Hard to believe Demetri was so willing to defend you like some knight in shining armor or some shit. You’re pathetic.” Having heard enough, Eli storms out, anger overtaking him. How could he have been so stupid, to think this was going to go any better? Why did he think that just because this man had been willing to help Miguel and Demetri (who were normal) become badass meant he would extend the same treatment to the freak with the lip scar?

Eli calls Demetri in tears. “I don’t know how you can train with someone like him,” Eli spits out. “He’s a shit person, Demetri. I--I don’t know what you and Miguel are thinking. It’s like he gets some kind of...I don’t know, sadistic pleasure out of bullying people. He’s not any better than the people he claims he’s trying to help you fight.”

Demetri, to his horror, reacts only with scorn, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “God, all this drama because he was mean about your lip again? Jesus christ, grow a backbone, Eli. I hate to say it, but I think Mr. Lawrence was right--if you can’t even handle someone making some insensitive comments about your scar, how are you going to handle an elbow to the teeth? Or any training more intensive than a slap on the wrist, anyway?”

Eli can do nothing but just stare at him through the screen. Demetri, the one person who he has always been able to count on to not comment on his scar, the one person who has always comforted him or talked him through it when he cried, is brushing him completely off--being an asshole about the one thing Eli was certain he never would be. Why is Demetri, of all people, not taking his side on this?

All Eli knows for sure is that he doesn’t like this new version of Demetri one bit. What happened to the best friend who was always willing to fight for him, no matter what it took? Now, he seems more concerned with looking cool and tough and upkeeping some kind of ridiculous reputation than Eli’s own well-being.

Over the next few days, a rage he didn’t know he even had in him bubbles up inside Eli. He decides if Demetri’s going to play dirty, so is he. And maybe, if Eli plays his cards right, the old Demetri will come back.

Despite his long-standing frustration with the way adults treat him--delicately, condescendingly, like a Thing of Pity--Eli figures he can get some use out of it for once. If this is the only way they’re going to see him regardless, he might as well use it to his advantage. And so he goes crying to his mom, who he knows for a fact other adults talk about being a “valued member of the community” and probably has some influence and some strings she can pull. He bawls to her about how his best friend has turned into an unrecognizable jerk, all because he’s training with a middle-aged man with the mindset of a high school bully who has no issue verbally abusing his students. Sure enough, discussions are had with the Neighborhood Committee, phone calls are placed, and Eli overhears his mother vowing to shut down that degenerate karate place if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Meanwhile, back at the dojo, Kreese makes an announcement. The elderly, intimidating man has recently teamed up with Johnny to teach--and he gives Demetri the creeps, if he’s honest, but he seems to know his stuff when it comes to karate, so Demetri goes along with this new addition to the sensei roster. However, when Johnny goes off to visit his high school friends and leaves the kids alone with the new Sensei, Demetri can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Now, the dojo’s been getting some concerned phone calls,” Kreese says, arms crossed and expression difficult to read. He doesn’t seem to be angry--if anything, he looks faintly amused. “Parents of the local teenagers are worried. They think Cobra Kai is full of bullies. Think our methods are...abusive, even. They want to shut us down.” Worried murmurs start to echo around the room, but Kreese silences them as he goes on. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I have my ways of talking people down. We know better, anyhow. They’re just...intimidated by us, because we’ve honed skills here they couldn’t even dream of having. But nonetheless...” Kreese smirks in a way that makes Demetri feels ever-so-slightly unnerved. “If you run into one of your little peers whining to your parents about getting rid of us, well...show them Cobra Kai can’t be messed with so easily.”

And suddenly Demetri’s seething, because he knows exactly who made sure those phone calls got made.

Eli, for all his timidness, is notoriously smart. Demetri knows this intimately. He’d hardly put it past Eli to be this cunning, to manipulate the pitying adults around him to get what he wants.

When the Cobra Kai kids take a trip to the mall later that day, Demetri knows exactly where Eli will be. Every Wednesday, a new issue of Dungeon Lord comes out--they used to go get it together, but since getting into karate, Demetri hasn’t been keeping up. Demetri would figure someone like Eli wouldn’t have the balls to go out in public alone, if not for the fact that he knew how invested Eli was in the current plot.

And so Demetri heads to the comic book store, a group of reluctant Cobra Kai “pledges” in tow. Maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but he likes having someone to be able to boss around--it feels nice to be at the top of the food chain for once. Lord knows it’s the first time that’s happened. And if he isn’t going to milk that tournament win for all it’s worth, then what even is the point?

When Demetri arrives, Eli turns to look at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he says, lip curling slightly. “I figured you were too tough for this kind of stuff now.”

Demetri just scoffs and crosses his arms. “Well, Mr. Kreese said the dojo’s been getting some calls from weepy parents concerned we’re bullying their poor kids. Saying our Senseis must be some evil, abusive monsters twisting and corrupting the neighborhood teenagers. So I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

Eli just looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence that makes his blood boil. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demetri advances on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t bullshit me, Eli. I know you’ve been meddling.”

To his surprise, Eli looks up to meet his gaze evenly, pretense of naiveté completely gone. “And what if I have? I don’t like the influence they’re having on you.”

Well, Demetri doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like it. “What is it about Cobra Kai that’s got you in such a tiffy, huh? You’re jealous I found a way to fight back and actually protect us? You don’t like that I’m not a pathetic loser you can look down your nose at anymore?”

Eli just looks at him in bewilderment. “Jesus, no, that’s not it at all, dude. Just...do you even hear yourself? You’ve turned into such an asshole since you started all that karate shit. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You walk around thinking you’re hot shit and everyone has to bow down to you all because your dojo won some stupid tournament. Well, news flash, Demetri--nobody cares.”

The callous way Eli, of all people, says it can’t help but throw him off. Is that really what his best friend thinks about him now--that he’s just some arrogant prick strutting around flaunting his success?

And then Demetri remembers how he got here--what it was that pushed him to be such a hard-assed fighter in the first place--and he feels a wave of venom coarse through him so powerful that he nearly chokes on it. Before he knows it he’s grabbing Eli by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall.

“You fucking ungrateful brat,” he spits out, his words poison. “I did it all for you, you know. Everything I did was so that I could finally protect you. And this is how you thank me? After I’ve been getting my ass kicked over and over again so you wouldn’t have to worry about bullies anymore?”

Eli is surprisingly unfazed. “And where was I when you were learning to be such a good protector, Demetri? Getting shit on as a tool to motivate you? Nobody bothering to check how I felt about that? A real good bodyguard you turned out to be.”

“And yet Kyler and his little posse haven’t bothered you once. Who do you think that’s thanks to?”

“Miguel too. You don’t get all the credit. And anyhow, not like it matters when your Senseis would just as soon take the same cheap shots.”

Demetri just curls his lip. “Don’t get mad at me because you were too weak to survive Cobra Kai. Because...what, a middle-aged karate teacher hurt your feelings? I’d like to see how you go about taking a real fist to the jaw.”

Demetri raises a fist as if to demonstrate. Eli flinches, anger and defiance suddenly completely gone as his eyes widen in horror.

“You’d actually hurt me?” he asks softly.

Demetri slowly lowers his fist, realizing the answer as soon as he sees the terrified look in his friend’s eyes.

“Consider this your warning, Eli,” he spits out, with as much venom as he can manage. “Don’t mess around with Cobra Kai, or things are going to get ugly.” He smirks--a little sadistically, he has to admit. “You saw the tournament. Well...you’d better believe that’s the least of what I can do.”

When a downtrodden Eli shows up at Daniel LaRusso’s front door, timidly requesting to learn karate, far be it from Daniel to turn away a new student. Eli’s sob story about how he’s being bullied and threatened by his best friend only makes the new sensei more determined to take him under his wing--Daniel is no stranger to bullying, after all.

The next time Cobra Kai goes on an outing to the mall, Demetri catches Eli in the food court, eating with Samantha LaRusso and that kid whose ass he kicked at the tournament--Robby Keene, was his name? Mr. Lawrence’s kid. This seems...odd. How would Eli have met them?

An unexpected wave of jealousy rips through him. How did shy little Eli manage to make other friends? Let alone with an ex popular girl, of all people. Nonetheless, he figures this might be a good time to make sure his ex-friend isn’t trying to start any more shit with Cobra Kai.

He catches Eli in the deli line, sliding up behind him and purring, “Oh, I hope you haven’t been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, have you, Eli?”

Eli turns and glares at him with a venom Demetri didn’t know the other boy had in him. “Why, Demetri? Scared your precious Cobra Kai is going to lose all its coolness cred if it gets out how shitty you all are?”

Demetri seethes with anger again, and before he knows it, he’s shoving Eli out of the line and ramming him up against one of the pillars on the edge of the food court. The crowd of eaters around them “Oooooh”s, but Demetri ignores them. He raises a fist again, fully prepared to follow through this time. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

Eli just curls his lip, more defiant than Demetri’s ever seen him. “You don’t scare me, Demetri. I know who you really are.”

The Cobra Kai pledges start to loom behind them, ready to provide Demetri with backup if needed. Eli notices and scoffs. “Wow, siccing your goons on me too? Way to set up a fair fight, Demetri. You’re so badass.”

Struck by a sudden desire to prove him wrong, Demetri socks Eli in the jaw before he can think better of it. He pauses afterwards, momentarily shaken by what he’s done.

To his dismay, Eli’s horrified shock is short lived before he laughs darkly. “Well, you’re not the only one who knows karate now. I joined Miyagi-Do.”

Demetri just scoffs. Ah yes, a little karate training and Eli, of all people, is going to kick some major ass. “All right then. Let’s see what you got.” He takes a step back, allowing Eli to try and get a hit in.

When the fight breaks out in full force, it’s vicious. Eli throws the first hit, but it’s weak--he’s out of practice since abandoning Cobra Kai. Demetri has him on the ground in seconds, throwing punches and kicks with a speed and rage he had no idea he had. Eli barely has time to get up before he’s getting his ass handed to him.

What Demetri doesn’t count on is Eli’s new dojomates coming to his rescue, getting the smaller boy behind them and executing a near-perfect synchronized fighting routine. Even with his lackeys helping him, Demetri is completely annihilated--nearly unconscious on the food court floor within minutes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is Eli staring down at him, blue eyes wide with horror.

When word of the incident at the mall gets back to Moon, shit hits the fan--to put it lightly. Yasmine is with Moon when she confronts Demetri, but she doesn’t say anything--just stands glaring with her arms crossed while Moon goes off at him. “How could you treat Eli like that? He’s your friend!”

“Not anymore.” Demetri curls his lip. “He joined Miyagi-Do. He’s made it pretty clear where his loyalties lie now, and it’s not with me.”

“Who cares about Miyagi-Do?” She retorts. “He’s still your friend! Our friend! And I don’t like the way you’re bullying him.”

Demetri scoffs. “Don’t you get it? He’s just a pathetic nerd who can’t handle the fact that I’m cooler than him now. All he wants to do is drag me down to his level again, I guarantee it.”

Moon’s gaze is more poisonous than he’s ever seen it. She turns to Yasmine. “Tell him, Yas,” she says, her tone dangerously quiet.

Yasmine sighs. She says--with notable hesitation, Demetri notices--“If you don’t stop bullying Eli, we’re through.”

Thrown off, Demetri laughs harshly. “What do you care? You don’t even like Eli! I see those...disgusted looks you shoot in his direction, when you think we won’t notice.”

Yasmine bites her lip. “That doesn’t matter. Moon is my best friend. If she’s not okay with this whole...thing, then neither am I.”

“You’re not fucking serious. You’re dumping me because your bleeding-hearted friend told you I wasn’t being nice enough to a guy you can’t stand?”

Yasmine pauses, but ultimately stands her ground. “I’m sorry, but if it’s between you and Moon, it’s going to be Moon. So her word goes. So either stop with this whole stupid feud with Eli, or we’re finished.”

“I...” Demetri can only stare at her, shocked. He never could have imagined getting this ultimatum...and yet here he is.

He must have hesitated a second too long, because Moon grabs Yasmine’s arm and starts to pull her away. “I think that’s all the answer we need,” Moon hisses.

“Wait!” he called helplessly after them. Yasmine turns around once as she walks away, but only to spit “It’s over!” over her shoulder. As if for good measure.

Kreese finds Demetri circling a punching bag in the back of the dojo, spinning around it and throwing kicks and punches faster than cobra strikes. Seizing his opportunity, he advances. “What’s wrong, son?”

Demetri turns, tensing. He’s still wary of the man, but to hell with it--it’s not like he has anyone else to talk to. “Fight broke out with Miyagi-Do, and we lost. Pathetic, I know. Please don’t rub it in.”

“Cheer up.” Kreese smirks. “The fight isn’t over until you say it is.”

Demetri just sighs. “No use going in for a rematch. They’re strong. I couldn’t take them again on my own.”

Kreese’s smirk widens. “You’re a smart kid. There are other ways to fight back, you know. You don’t always have to beat them into the ground.”

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

Well, Demetri is nothing if not tech-savvy. May as well make some use of that Yelp Elite status. He spends hours setting up dozens of sock puppet accounts, programming them to post terrible review after terrible review blasting everything he can think of about Miyagi-Do. The encouragement of violence in youth (Eli had technically punched first, hadn’t he?). The weak, subpar fighting style that broke down as soon as it was challenged by serious fighters. The pretentious, culture-appropriating sensei. Daniel LaRacist indeed.

During the Coyote Creek excursion, Demetri finds himself pitted against Miguel, fighting in the world’s most intense game of what essentially boils down to Capture the Flag. Demetri, about to get the better of Miguel, finds that he can’t help but gloat about his little online attack. Can’t be long before a one-star dojo goes out of business.

When Miguel seems to take issue with it, saying the whole thing is mean-spirited and over the top, Demetri can’t help but scoff. Miyagi-Do has been plenty clear in declaring war--their little battalion at the mall proved that. Demetri wishes Miguel wasn’t still too caught up in pining over Sam LaRusso to realize that.

Miguel, meanwhile, decides this dojo war of sorts is getting out of hand. It turns out Demetri isn’t the only tech-savvy student in Cobra Kai--Miguel designed their website, after all. With a little bit of basic internet coding and some rudimentary hacking, he manages to access the sock puppet accounts Demetri made and take the bad reviews down. He even goes so far as to go over to the Miyagi-Do dojo and personally apologize for how Cobra Kai has been acting, telling Robby Keene that he found out who blasted the bad reviews and took them all down. “We’re not all assholes.”

Come Moon’s end-of-summer party, Demetri is surprised to get an invitation. He hasn’t seen her or Yasmine since they both chewed him out, and Yasmine ended things. But perhaps this is a show of good faith. Maybe Moon wants to be friends again--and maybe that means Yasmine’s come to her senses too, and might be willing to talk things out.

Moon welcomes him when he arrives, previous animosity gone for the moment. “Hey, thank you for inviting me. I’m...sorry,” he starts. “Of how we left things off. I was an ass to you and Yas.” “It’s alright,” Moon replies cheerily. “I invited you because...well, I’m hoping that before school starts, we can stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

His heart sinks as he sees Sam LaRusso lead a stream of kids through the door, Eli trailing at the end, and he realizes exactly what she means. The Miyagi-Dos are here.

He sits forlornly on a couch with Mitch and Aisha, thinking about how much worse this night just got. He brightens, however, when he sees a shock of blonde hair at the door not long after. So Yasmine came after all.

Moon grins in delight, calling over to her. Taking a breath, Demetri stands up and approaches the two girls, determined to smooth things over with them both.

He’s not surprised to see Yasmine make a beeline for Moon, not noticing him for the moment. What he isn’t expecting is for Moon to sweep Yasmine into her arms, kissing her full on the mouth.

Demetri stops in his tracks. The girls turn to him a few seconds later, seeming to notice him for the first time. They look at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to finish walking over to them. Or say something, and not just stand there gawking stupidly.

“Uh...are you two...um...like...uh...” All he can do is shuffle closer and gesture abstractly, not able to find words. Yasmine blushes and looks away, while Moon tucks a hair behind her ear, her smile strained.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she admits, laughing nervously. “We’re, um...”

“Girlfriends?” Yasmine offers, looking up and smiling at Moon with uncharacteristic shyness. Demetri can’t help but bristle--shyness she never showed him.

Well, far be it from him to be judgmental. Even if Yasmine broke his damn heart just now, Moon is still his friend. He gives them a strained smile. “That’s...that’s great! Happy for you two. No shame in uh...trying out something like that.”

Demetri excuses himself and sulks back to the now-empty couch, mind racing as he sits down. Is that why Moon was trying to encourage Yasmine to break up with him? Was it even about Eli at all? Did Moon just want Yasmine for herself? It seemed unlike Moon, but who could say?

And Yasmine...had she always wanted Moon, too? Is that why she seethed every time she saw Eli shooting lovestruck glances at her friend?

...had she even ever liked Demetri at all, or was he just a cover-up for the fact that she was...lesbian? How was someone as feminine and fashionable as Yasmine a lesbian, anyways? All the lesbians Demetri saw on tv cut their hair boyishly short and had about 5 nose rings and walked around in leather jackets and combat boots.

His thoughts are interrupted by the last sweatered boy he wants to see taking a seat at the other side of the couch, glancing nervously at him with darting eyes. What did Eli want? And why was he so nervous? He’d been unduly bold as of late.

“You seen the new Doctor Who trailer?” Eli mutters.

Something about the nonchalant way he says it--like this is the olden days, when Demetri always felt like shit about himself and had no one who tolerated him but Eli--makes Demetri’s blood boil. He scoffs. “I have better things to do than watch nerd crap like that.”

A short silence. “Capaldi regenerated,” Eli offers finally. “I know you weren’t big on 12.”

No more Capaldi? Demetri turns to look at Eli, interest suddenly piqued.

“What’s the new doctor like?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

“She?” Demetri finds himself grinning back. “How progressive of them. Welcome to the 21st century, Doctor Who.”

A sudden giggling catches his attention, and Demetri looks to where Yasmine and Moon are sharing a chair across the room, tangled up in each other’s arms and trading soft kisses like they don’t have a care in the world. He tenses.

Eli seems to sense his discomfort, and sighs. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. If it helps at all, I liked Moon a lot, too.”

Demetri just scoffs. “Yeah, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. They just have to be gay, right?”

Eli gives him a strange look. Demetri shuffles uncomfortably, realizing what he’s probably thinking about. The...incident, 4 years ago. Demetri glares at him, hoping to banish the thought before it arrives. None of that meant anything--they were just dumb kids. Dumb kids doing dumb shit that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know, I mean...if they’re happy together, shouldn’t we just be happy for them?”

Eli reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, and Demetri hesitates. Their special touch. Eli still remembers, even after everything that’s happened.

For a moment he’s overcome with longing, wishing things with Eli could just go back to how they used to be. Back when he knew no matter what hell he went through at school, Eli would always be there to pick him back up again. But then it sinks in what Eli’s really trying to say.

Be happy for them. What a bunch of Miyagi-Do bullshit. Just accept his sad little lot in life, just like he used to do. Go back to nerdy little Eli at the bottom of the food chain, doomed to spend the rest of his youth admiring pretty girls from a vast distance.

He never wants that to be him again.

“Oh, fuck you, Eli,” he spits, grabbing Eli’s hand and yanking it off of his shoulder. Eli freezes, looking like he’s just been slapped.

“What, so I’m supposed to do like you, moping and pining and hoping a pretty girl will look my way if I wish hard enough and just sucking it up when she doesn’t? Well, I’ve had plenty enough of that--I’ve been on the top. And I’m going to be on the top again. But you? You’ll always be pathetic--you and your entire sorry excuse for a dojo.”

He gets up and walks away, bristling with an anger he can’t even fully place anymore.

As Eli watches Demetri go, he realizes he’s finally had enough. Demetri doesn’t want to patch things up? He just wants to keep being an arrogant shithead? Fine. But Eli’s not about to take his prodding and insults anymore.

Eli makes his way over to Moon--still his friend, despite the unreciprocated feelings--and Yasmine, strikes up a conversation with them. Yasmine, he notices, is being notably nicer to him--probably at Moon’s request. They get to talking about sexualities, and Eli accidentally lets a little something slip about Demetri.

When they were 12 years old, they had kissed. It was Eli who suggested they practiced kissing, to get ready for all the girls they would inevitably date. However, a bit of choice wording and it sounded like Demetri had planted one on Eli out of nowhere...and Eli, of course, hadn’t liked it one bit, because he was totally straight. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he pleaded the girls, big sad eyes every bit as convincing as he had hoped. “Demetri doesn’t want it to get out that he’s...you know. Gay. He’s worried it’ll ruin his reputation.”

Moon nods sincerely, but Eli can tell from the almost imperceptible smirk on Yasmine’s face that she has other plans. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Demetri’s ex over the last few months, it’s that even trying to be a better person, she can’t resist a good bit of juicy gossip.

And from what Eli gathers...two girls dating? No problem, as long as they’re hot and popular. At least creepy guys can fetishize it. But guys liking other guys? Now that...Eli has a feeling that won’t go over well.

As soon as Eli excuses himself, Yasmine gets to work. A few whispers at the snack table when Moon isn’t looking, and news of Demetri’s supposed orientation spread like wildfire.

Demetri, meanwhile, is determined to prove Eli wrong. So what if Yas doesn’t want him anymore (or never did, the mean voice in his head keeps prodding)? He’ll find another hot girl to have on his arm. He’s a top Cobra Kai fighter, after all--it’s not like it’ll be difficult.

He saunters over to a group of girls, leaning up against the wall in what he thinks has to be a very suave way. “Hey ladies,” he says. “Name’s Demetri. I’m sure you’ve heard about me--seasoned Cobra Kai fighter, finalist in the All-Valley tournament. But no need to be intimidated--if any of you beautiful ladies ever need a hand with anything, I’ll--”

“Take it off of the nearest dick to help us out?” one of the girls cuts him off. They all break out in snickers. “No thanks.”

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

Then he realizes there’s only one person who could have made them think he was into that sort of thing.

He tenses. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but--”

“We’ve heard all we need to,” another girl says, eyeing him up in disgust. “Not interested in getting it on with someone who’s probably had his cock up another guy’s ass, to be blunt. Gross.” Before Demetri can say another word, the girls are gone, turning and slinking hurriedly off into the crowd.

Every time Demetri tries his luck with another girl, he gets similar rebuffs. And every time, he seethes a little more. Fucking figured--timid little Eli couldn’t take the fact that Demetri had worked up the confidence to win over a girl and he hadn’t, so he had to ruin Demetri’s chances with every other girl so he’d feel better.

Besides, Demetri remembers that day from 4 years ago. He remembers that Eli was just as into...all the stuff they did.

Unfortunately, before Demetri has a chance to go over and confront Eli about the whole business, the cops show up. He’ll just have to wait until school, he figures.

Meanwhile, word gets back to Sam that Miguel showed up at her door, apologizing and promising he took all the bad reviews down--apparently Robby didn’t relay any of this to her. When Miguel admits to Demetri about the drunken kiss, Demetri chuckles, slapping him on the back. “My man! Trying to build up a whole harem here, are we?”

Miguel sighs, looking sullen. “I cheated, dude. That’s shitty.”

And then comes the PA announcement. Tory Nichols is starting shit, and Demetri can’t pretend he’s not intrigued to see where this goes.

As soon as the fight breaks out, Demetri is overcome with adrenaline. He whips through the crowd, spinning and throwing kicks and punches like explosive flashes. All he can think of is Eli, Eli, little Eli...oh, when he finds him, there’s going to be hell to pay.

And it doesn’t take long--of course Eli is the one who tries to pull a teacher in to stop the fight. The fucking wimp.

When Eli makes a run for it, Demetri can’t help but smirk when he leads him straight to the computer lab. How very typical, for someone whose hero is Steve Jobs. He grins, something frighteningly sadistic bubbling up inside of him.

For a second it almost scares him, how badly he wants to drive his foot into Eli’s chest.

“Little Eli Moskowitz!” he taunts, before he can stop himself. “Cowering away in the computer lab, just like the little nerd he is. Can’t hide forever, outer. I know damn well what you told them about me.”

He tries door after door, continuing in a singsong voice as he goes. “Oh dear me, what would they say if they knew you enjoyed it too, Eli? Well, I guess they won’t believe me now. But I know. I know you’re no better than me.”

Ever since they were kids, Demetri has been the speedier one. They used to race across the playground at recess, pretending to be Quicksilver and the Flash, but Demetri always came out ahead. Long, gangly legs tended to do that. So when Eli turns to see Demetri in the doorway, and he makes a run for it, he doesn’t get far.

Demetri grabs Eli around the waist and throws him against the wall, whipping kicks and hits into his stomach and thighs faster than he can block. Demetri hardly notices the bruises forming, or the bleeding cuts.

It’s then that Eli does something Demetri doesn’t expect--flips the script, as it were. As Demetri reaches out to strike again, Eli surges forward and grabs him by the shoulders, flipping him around and pinning him against the wall. Maybe Miyagi-Do specializes in defense, but they still taught him how to throw a good hit or two. He throws defense to the wayside and starts raining punches down on Demetri--sloppy, uncoordinated, but something the “Strike First” Cobra Kai student is entirely unprepared to defend.

When his chest is stinging and his head throbbing, Demetri can’t take anymore. Eli was a lot more...well, powerful than he expected. At his first opportunity, he turns and books it. Maybe this isn’t a fight he can win after all.

Eli doesn’t chase. As angry as he still is at Demetri, he can’t stop thinking about the mars and bruises and cuts that appeared across Demetri’s face and skin as he punched him, mirroring his own, and he feels sick. He can’t hurt Demetri anymore, no matter what Demetri thinks of him now.

Demetri just makes it to the staircase when he sees Miguel motionless on the floor, Robby Keene looking over the railing. Sam LaRusson hovering over him. He runs to Miguel’s side, world crumbling around him.

Turns out he showed mercy, just like Mr. Lawrence always said to. And look where it got him. When John Kreese offers him a place in a new Cobra Kai, determined to make the Miyagi-Dos pay for hurting Miguel, Demetri isn’t about to say no.

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

On the first day back at school, Mitch is quick to remind Demetri that there are other girls in the world besides Yasmine. Surely it won’t be too hard to work his charms on some of the freshmen--after all, word about that little incident with Eli when they were 12 can’t have gotten across the entire school, can it?

“Well, hello, ladies!” he purrs to a passing group, leaning against the wall in the most nonchalant way possible. “Welcome to West Valley High. I know freshman year can be intimidating, high school classes and new people and all, but if you ever need help with anything, I’m--”

“--the scrawny little gay kid who ran his pussy ass away from the world’s easiest fight?” one of the girls finishes scornfully. “Yeah, we know.”

As they walk away, he notices one shoot a flirty smile at a passing Eli, surrounded by his squad of Miyagi-Do losers. “Ooooh, you’re famous now, E!” he hears Chris say, and his blood boils all over again.

Ah. So everyone knew about Eli’s little triumph.

Mitch saunters over, and Demetri follows his lead. “Got something to say?!” he snaps.

Demetri’s eyes lock with Eli’s, and he glowers down at him. Eli’s face is tight, expression almost...sad.

Not like he’d expect anything less from that little crybaby.

“Oh, little Eli,” he chides. “I’d like to see you try and hide behind security.”

“I don’t need to,” Eli mutters, not breaking eye contact.

“Everything all right here?”

At the sound of the counselor’s voice, Eli does something unexpectedly bold. He sidles up to Demetri’s side and presses into it, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “No, Counselor Blatt, we’re all friends here!” he says, offering that shy little Eli smile that made every adult in a nearby vicinity go mad with protectiveness.

Eli’s arm is tight around his neck--like a chokehold. But, Demetri notices after a few moments, it’s shaking--the grip almost frantic. Like he’s scared of when he’ll have to let go.

Odd.

Demetri turns, and his and Eli’s eyes lock. He tries to give the shorter boy the most intense, seething glare he can under his forced smile, but Eli returns the look with equal intensity. Demetri jostles his backpack his backpack and thumps him on the chest, feeling an odd compulsion to touch his old friend right back.

Maybe he missed feeling Eli’s body underneath him. But that wasn’t a thought he could afford to spend a lot of brainpower on right now. “Yeah!” he says. Of course we’re still friends! Of course you didn’t fuck up my love life and humiliate me to the entire school because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting some and you weren’t!

When the counselor chides them about having somewhere to be, Eli just nods, murmuring, “Yeah, of course, Counselor Blatt. Sorry.”

As Eli pulls away, he pats Demetri’s shoulder a couple times. Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Demetri can’t tell if it’s serious--if Eli still cares--or if it’s just a cruel mockery of their old touch. He’s not sure he wants to know.

When Demetri runs into Samantha LaRusso in the hospital and she insists she wants to help, he hardly expects a whole fucking fundraiser gleefully using Miguel as their poster child. As though the Miyagi-Dos weren’t the ones who put him in the hospital in the first place. When he catches a glimpse of the carwash while driving Mitch to practice, he decides he’s going to do something about it.

Beating up the kid is an easy fight, getting the money with Mitch and the others a sinch. Maybe at some point he would’ve felt bad for this--pummeling some short kid and then taking his charity money. But all he can think of is Miguel, his best friend, lying in a white gown and hooked up to wires. Because of this kid and his stupid “peaceful” dojo.

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

When Demetri walks into the cafeteria the following Monday, he’s not sure what he expects to see at Yasmine and Moon’s table, the place where he would be sitting, under different circumstances--but it definitely is not Eli Moskowitz with his hair dyed bright blue and spiked up. Miyagi-Do blue. Apparently all that coolness cred he felt he got from “scaring” Demetri off in the school brawl has gotten to his head, and he’s playing out his new “badassery” up to 11. He’s showing something to Yasmine and Moon, and they’re smiling and giggling. Yasmine, of all people, is smiling at nerdy little Eli’s antics.

Demetri squints, and sees that Eli’s showing the two girls a comic book--he recognizes the copy. It’s Eli’s limited edition Captain Marvel comic book, signed by Kelly Sue DeConnick herself. Demetri remembers standing in line with him at a con to get it a few years back--he’s pretty protective of the thing.

And now he’s using it to impress girls? Because apparently Yasmine and Moon are into that kind of thing? Oh, but of course Yasmine couldn’t be into nerd shit when DEMETRI was dating her, could she?

And those gooey eyes Moon is giving Eli, her little giggles--Demetri doesn’t like them one bit. What, now Eli’s worth her affections--now that his “nerdiness” is cool? Aren’t she and Yasmine a stupid item, anyways?

Deciding he’s going to put a stop to this, Demetri saunters over, lunch tray clutched so hard his knuckles are turning white. Before the group can react to his presence, Demetri picks up his chocolate milk carton and dumps it all over Eli’s stupid blue hair, making sure to get plenty on the rare comic book in front of him.

“Oh, I hope that wasn’t important, was it Eli?” he taunts, voice thick with mock sympathy. “That sure would be a shame.”

Eli turns to look at him, eyes wide with heartbroken shock. For a moment, the anger doesn’t set in.

“I had to wait in line 5 hours to get that,” he says quietly. “You know that.”

“Sure do.” Demetri smirks. “And it took all of 5 seconds to completely ruin. How tragic.”

Eli tenses, eyes darting around for a couple seconds. Demetri starts to walk away, his point made, when he feels an iron grip on his wrist. He turns to see Eli smirking at him, clutching his arm with more force than he ever thought possible from the once-timid boy.

“Careful there, Demetri,” Eli sneers. “Coming all the way across the cafeteria to bother me when you’ve got your cool Cobra Kai friends to hang out with? People might think you’re a little...obsessed with me.” Yasmine and Moon snicker, and Demetri bristles as he realizes the implication.

“Although I shouldn’t be surprised since you love obsessing over other boys, don’t you?” Eli goes on, like his point isn’t clear enough. “Y’know, I feel bad for Yasmine. I mean, any idiot could tell she used you as a beard, but I had no idea it was a mutual thing.”

Demetri tenses, willing himself not to lose his cool. “Really letting that little victory get to your head, aren’t you, Eli? Honestly, I was going easy on you. Now I know not to next time.”

It’s at that moment that Sam LaRusso decides to show up, sliding up next to Eli and glowering up at Demetri. “There won’t be a next time if I have anything to say about it,” she retorts.

Demetri can’t help but scoff. Of course Sam LaRusso would be all too eager to defend her little pet nerd now, even though she was all too happy to laugh at him with her mean girl friends a year ago. “I’m not scared of you,” he says. “Like you’d start any fight daddy couldn’t bail you out of. Or that doesn’t end with your ex boyfriend getting thrown over a railing because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

It’s a low blow, but Demetri doesn’t care. It’s hard not to look at this girl and see part of the reason Miguel might never be able to walk again.

Sam LaRusso shoves him just as the godawful counselor is sauntering over, but to hell with it--maybe Demetri could spin this to his advantage.

“She hit me, Counselor Blatt!” he cries out, pointing at Sam. “Attacked and physically assaulted me, completely unprovoked!”

“That’s not true,” Eli mumbles, eyes darting. Flawlessly slipping back into the poor little Eli role in a way that never fails to make Demetri seethe. “It wasn’t unprovoked. He started all this by destroying my limited-edition comic book for no reason.”

Demetri puts on his most convincing remorseful face and sighs. “Look, that was an accident. I just tripped while I was walking and my milk spilled. Anyhow, if your book’s that valuable, you probably shouldn’t bring it into a school cafeteria where people are more than likely going to spill food on it.”

He’d like to see the dumb counselor argue with that.

“Look, I don’t want excuses. I just want you all to respect each other.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Demetri turns to give Eli a forced smile. “Nothing but 100% respect in this environment going forward, I assure you. Sorry if we caused any problems.”

Please, just anything to make her leave.

With one last warning to Sam LaRusso, the counselor is gone. Demetri turns to the two Miyagi-Dos and smirks.

“To hell with respect,” he sneers. “Your lot hardly deserve it.”

It doesn’t surprise Demetri when Eli and his little gang of Miyagi-Do losers decide to start shit in gym class. What he isn’t expecting is for Eli and his stupid blue hair to start running next to him--right after he’s tried and failed to catch Yasmine’s attention after scoring a goal.

He’s been thinking about her all morning--was Eli right about her? Did she only use him as a cover-up?

...would no one ever want to date him for him?

Well, maybe if he won Yasmine back, he could disprove that. If Moon was going to be hanging off of Eli’s arm before too long, chances were her and Yasmine’s relationship’s days were numbered.

Whatever Eli is about to say, Demetri can already tell it’s not going to help.

And it doesn’t. “Wow, Demetri. Few guys are so bad in a relationship that they manage to turn their girlfriend gay. I hope you feel accomplished.”

Demetri balls his fists. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“You really did have a good thing going with her,” Eli sighed, voice laced with condescending pity. “It’s a shame she decided she could do better than some belligerent Cobra Kai douchebag.”

And then suddenly Eli lunges for him and tackles him, knocking him to the ground just as easily as Demetri once did to Eli at the mall.

Not that it ended up mattering all that much--Demetri was able to talk the Cobra Kai’s way out of trouble in the principal’s office, just as he so often could. Nonetheless, it seemed Eli was hardly turning out to be as much of a pushover as he thought.

When Mitch and the guys invited Demetri to go to Golf N Stuff--fuck around for a bit, cause some mayhem--he wasn’t about to say no. The thrill took over, running around, snatching tickets and prizes away, throwing them in the trash--he almost felt as powerful as Kyler must have, all those months ago when he tossed the lesser kids’ backpacks in the garbage. Is this how it felt, to be on top? To have everyone else too scared to mess with you?

Because Demetri loved it.

What he wasn’t counting on was Sam LaRusso and her little posse arriving to confront them in the laser tag arena--including Eli, face hardened and ready to fight.

Things seemed to be going pretty poorly--that was, until Tory Nichols and the backup arrived. That reduced Sam LaRusso to a sniveling mess, and finally it looked like this would be an easy finish.

Demetri found himself only stalling for a second when the way cleared for him to go at Eli. Something about the sudden terror on the other boy’s face made him hesitate, but not for long. Eli threw a weak punch, and Demetri quickly flipped him onto the ground, pulling his arm up behind him.

“No, please, stop, Deme, stop! It’s me!”

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

Demetri pauses, and suddenly he feels sick. Deme...Eli’s nickname. Eli.

Wasn’t all of this for Eli? To protect Eli?

And now here he was, about to hurt him. The one thing he swore he was going to stop everyone else from doing.

And then comes the goading cries from Tory, Mitch, and the others. Do it! Finish him! He deserves it!

He deserves it.

And then Demetri remembers what happened to Miguel when he didn’t take his chance to finish the fight with Robby Keene. Suddenly Demetri’s running out of the end of a hallway again, seeing Miguel’s motionless body lying on the stairs, and the rage and horror and mind-numbing devastation hit him all over again.

“Demetri, finish him!”

In a split second, Demetri makes his decision. Eli’s arm snaps in half.

All it takes is one terrible, pained scream from Eli for Demetri’s entire world to come crashing down on him. What the fuck did he just do?

He can’t even hear the other Cobras, gleefully congratulating him and sneering at the “pussy” on the floor. All he can hear are Eli’s pained sobs.

He’d seen Eli cry before, but never like this. Never thanks to him.

When everyone congratulates him next practice, Demetri barely hears. He’s just numb. All he can see is Eli, curled up and crying on the dirty cement floor. When Tory tells him she didn’t think he was going to do it, all he can manage out is that Miyagi-Do had it coming for hurting Miguel.

And as if his week can’t get any worse, here come Kyler and his goons sauntering into the dojo like they own the damn place. Demetri does his best to convince Mr. Kreese this is by no means a wise idea, but the sensei will not hear of it.

When Kyler and Brucks realize who he is, it only makes Demetri more livid. “Oh shit, it’s the yogurt backpack kid! Lip’s little friend! I thought he moved away!” When a fighting ring is formed, giving the new recruits a chance to “earn their spot,” Demetri is all too ready for combat.

He’s horrified at how quickly Brucks takes down Mitch, how quickly his friend is ushered out the door. It was bad enough to see Bert go, but this...this is different.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alone.

When Kyler steps forward, looking for an opponent, Demetri volunteers before anyone else can. Mr. Kreese shoots him a surprised look, but he doesn’t care. This fucko has been making his life hell for years--he can already tell this is going to be therapeutic.

Demetri doesn’t hold back. The fight has barely started before Kyler’s had enough. A few fast hits and his lip’s already bloody, and he’s backing away. “No...please stop...”

And suddenly Demetri’s back in the library, on that afternoon that seems like an eternity ago, watching Kyler grip Eli by the throat. Hearing him sneer “who would ever want to kiss THAT shit?” like Eli was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. Feeling absolutely powerless, hand clutching the back of a chair as he burned with rage that had nowhere to go.

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

And before he knows it Demetri has Kyler pinned to the ground, landing punch after punch to his face. Because, he realizes, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck if Eli’s on the other side?

That’s still his Eli, even after everything. The same Eli he stood by for over 10 years, the same Eli who he wished so long that he could protect from everything, the same Eli who felt like he had to constantly hide a tiny red line on his face because his peers collectively decided--for no good reason at all--that it was ugly.

And maybe he couldn’t make those people hurt the way he wanted to then, but right now...well, he could hurt at least one. And that was enough.

He doesn’t stop until Kyler is practically pulverized and his hands are drenched in blood. After throwing his last punch, he smirks, leaning down to whisper into Kyler’s ear.

“Now who’d want to kiss THAT shit? That’s right, asshole--I remember.”

Demetri kicks Kyler’s limp form as he walks away. He shoots Brucks a glare as he falls back in line--just for good measure.

When Miguel comes back to school, Demetri’s one of the first to greet him at the door. “Cobra Kai’s still going strong! It’s going to be great to have you back!” He’s a little confused as to why Miguel seems so hesitant, but he doesn’t worry too much about it--they can sort through all that later.

Miguel’s certainly taken aback by the clunky cast he sees on Eli’s arm when he runs into him in the hall--but perhaps even moreso by the fact that he has both shamelessly dyed his hair blue and spiked it up in a mohawk and is currently walking the school hallways with Moon on his (unbroken) arm. As it turns out, once word got back to Moon that Yasmine was the one who had shamelessly whispered around the school about Demetri being gay, she had broken things off with her. And, with his new “coolness” upgrade, she’d taken quite a liking to Eli.

Not like she had any way of knowing he’d been planning on Yasmine’s cruel gossip, after all.

But the cast, Miguel quickly learns, has a much darker backstory than anything he could have expected.

He wastes no time confronting Demetri about it in the lunchroom. “I heard what happened with Eli. How could you do that?”

Demetri’s stomach clutches. He scowls, determined not to show his discomfort.

“Wow!” He scoffs. “We go to all the trouble of getting payback on those assholes for getting you thrown over that railing, and this is the thanks we get?”

Miguel shakes his head, horrified. “Dude, who cares what dojo Eli’s in? He’s our friend! And in any case, it’s not his fault what happened to me. What the hell were you thinking?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Demetri’s face hardens. He can only imagine how angry Mr. Kreese would be with him if he caught him showing any kind of weakness. Any kind of second-guessing.

But he can’t help it. Glimpsing Eli in that cast for the first time...

“Look, the Miyagi-Dos were the ones who picked a fight with us,” Demetri retorts. “We just had to do what we had to so they’d back off and leave us alone. We had to finish the fight.”

Miguel pauses, looking pained. “This isn’t...this isn’t you, Demetri. You’re letting Kreese get in your head. He’s trying to manipulate you, get you to...obsess over revenge so you’ll hurt people. But I know you, and I know you don’t want to. Eli, or anyone else.”

Demetri clenches his fists. “What would you know about how I feel about Eli?”

“Look, I can’t claim I know what’s going on between you two,” Miguel amends. “But you have to believe me--Kreese is dangerous. He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, Demetri. Just...come to Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo. Please. Things can be like they used to. You don’t have to be in this...this war.”

This gives Demetri pause. “He...made a new dojo?”

Okay, so he’s still not Mr. Lawrence’s biggest fan--the man is an asshole at the best of times. But to be able to train with Miguel again...to be able to be badass without being expected to be some soldier...

He can’t finish speaking before Brucks’s voice rings out through the cafeteria. “Look everyone, Lip’s got a dick in his hand!”

Demetri looks up to see Eli being held by the cast, eyes darting around as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Involuntarily, Demetri bristles.

And there it is again, that feeling of being the helpless kid in the library as Eli’s taunted. And even after all this time...he still hates it.

Miguel turns to him, shaking his head. “So these are your friends now? I thought you were better than that.”

And just like that, Miguel’s gone. Gone from the Cobra Kai table, gone from Demetri’s life.

It makes him wonder if he’s making a huge mistake. But he knows he can’t back out now--not when he’s this far in. Who would even want to take him back? Probably not Miguel and Mr. Lawrence--despite what Miguel said, Demetri knows there’s no way he’s going to forgive him so easily for hurting their other friend. And certainly not Eli.

What makes it even worse is seeing Eli later that day, curled up against some lockers with Moon. Moon is tracing over his cast in colored sharpie, slowly transforming the dick pic into a beautiful landscape and night sky. Eli is bragging about how the arm-breaking didn’t hurt that bad.

Demetri remembers when that soft little smile was reserved only for him, and a pit starts to form in his stomach.

Well, no use bitching. You did this to yourself.

It seems like the world is out to just make Demetri’s existence in Cobra Kai as shitty as possible these days. Mitch and Bert are gone, Miguel isn’t coming back, Brucks is being a royal douchebag like always, and perhaps worst of all, Robby Keene shows up at the dojo. Demetri tries his damndest to appeal to Mr. Kreese about how outrageous this is--this is the kid who paralyzed Miguel in the fucking first place, what’s the point of dojo-wide revenge if they just take in the main culprit like an old buddy? But of course Mr. Kreese spouts some nonsense about how they need all the help they can get for the All-Valley, and sometimes you have to be allies with people you aren’t the biggest fans of, blah blah blah. To make matters worse, Tory--not a friend exactly, but probably the closest thing Demetri’s got to one left--is getting far too chummy with Robby for Demetri’s taste.

Maybe Demetri’s insane, but it seems like more and more ridiculous shit is being handwaved in the name of...what? Winning a karate tournament? Getting revenge for a kid who’s already recovered, and doesn’t even seem to want it?

When word gets back to Cobra Kai that Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang are teaming up, Kreese sends the students on a special mission: Show the other dojos that even with their combined forces, they’re no match for Cobra Kai. It seems like a waste of time to Demetri--why antagonize other dojos just minding their business? It’s not like there was anything worth fighting for in this dumb war anymore, considering Miguel was on his feet again (literally AND figuratively). Nonetheless, Demetri finds he’s itching for a good fight--it’s been way too long since he’s charged into a full-fledged battle.

Maybe this will help him get it out of his system, if nothing else.

When the fight breaks out at the LaRussos, it doesn’t take long for Demetri to be overtaken by the thrill of it. Just like he was at the school fight. Just like he was at the tournament. He’s zipping through the house, landing kicks and punches left and right. And it feels good. With everything having been so awful lately, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alive.

And then he lands a fierce kick, and Brucks chest-bumps him. “Hell yeah! kick some ass! Dumb losers never had a chance.”

Brucks. The same kid who laughed when he saw Eli starting to cry about the comments he made on his lip. The same kid claiming Kyler tossing his backpack into a yogurt-filled trash can was “brute.” And now here he was trying to be buddy-buddy with him.

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

Miguel’s speech, saying Kreese is manipulating him. Saying Kreese doesn’t care about him. Kreese cherry-picking what does and doesn’t count as vengeance--hurting Eli, someone who had nothing to do with Miguel’s fall, does, but teaming up with the kid responsible for said fall apparently does not. Demetri’s friends being booted from Cobra Kai one by one, just for not being strong enough.

The sound of Eli’s screams and sobs in a dark laser tag room.

Miguel was right, wasn’t he? Kreese never cared about getting payback for him. He only cared about starting a war for his own sadistic pleasures.

Demetri hears grunting and whimpering, and he looks up to see two of the other Cobras kneeing Eli in the chest over and over. Pinning him into an arm bar.

“Yo, ‘Mete!” one calls out. “Free shot!”

Eli looks up, gaze full of fear and pain. Bright blue irises glinting with welling tears.

Once upon a time, Demetri made a promise to himself that he would stick with karate, aggravating as it may be, so he would never have to see that look on Eli’s face again. It’s time, he figures, that he finally made good on that.

His face contorts into a snarl, and he runs to Eli. Eli closes his eyes and scrunches his face, bracing for a pain that never comes.

Demetri kicks one Cobra to the wayside and smashes the other into a glass table with perhaps more force and adrenaline than he’s used all night.

When he turns to Eli, the other boy backs away, eyes still wide with terror. Demetri feels sick to his stomach, and the tears come before he can stop them.

“God, Eli, I’m so sorry,” he splutters. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I don’t know what I was thinking, and it was all so fucked up, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I’ll never hurt you like that again, but if you don’t want anything to do with me now, I totally understand, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I was so awful to you, and I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve been there for you, and I’m such a piece of shit friend and--”

“DEMETRI!”

Finally Eli raises his voice enough that Demetri pauses. “...yeah, Eli?”

“Please stop talking. I forgive you. Now are you going to shut up and help me finish this?” He raises a hand, as if to initiate their old handshake. An olive branch.

Demetri grins so wide he thinks his face is going to break, and he grips Eli’s hand like a lifeline. Something to finally pull him out of the darkness. “Yeah.”

They’re a lethal fighting team. Between Demetri landing speedy hits and Eli protecting him and shielding them both with his bulked-up form (where did he get all that muscle? Demetri wonders), they dispatch half the Cobras in minutes. Whatever rush Demetri was feeling fighting when he first got here is nothing compared to fighting with Eli.

When they stop the fight between Tory and Sam, Tory wastes no time voicing her disdain for the ex-Cobras. “You’d better watch your back,” she spits at Demetri, and he feels a chill run through him. Turns out this girl is terrifying when she’s not fighting on your side.

Eli intercepts her as she leaves, staring her down defiantly in a very un-Eli-like manner. “You’d better watch yours,” he growls. “Touch him, and I’ll end you.”

Demetri glances over in surprise. When did Eli get so bold?

Well...he thinks he could grow to like it.

Season 4 (because fuck it)

Demetri is hardly expecting Mr. LaRusso and Mr. Lawrence to forgive him, never mind let him into their new dojo. But life has a lot of pleasant surprises in store for him, it seems, after the shitshow it recently put him through. It’s also possible Eli (and maybe Miguel too) but in a good word for him.

Demetri can’t stop apologizing to Eli. Seemingly every day, he finds a new thing to apologize for. Eli gets aggravated with it before long, having to reassure Demetri at least 50 separate times that he forgives him for everything. Nonetheless, Demetri refuses to stop--because he’ll never stop being sorry.

Or trying to find new ways to make it up to Eli. Going easy on him during sparring. Buying him lunch after practice. Helping him perfect some of the most badass Cobra moves.

Things end between Eli and Moon. Eli can’t fully elaborate on why--he just tells Demetri something didn’t feel quite right. The spark died out, like Demetri’s adrenaline rush slowly seeping away toward the end of a fight. That, and, Demetri gathers, something seems to have been distracting Eli from his girlfriend as of late.

Most likely the approaching, high stakes All-Valley. Karate is Serious Business, as they’ve both embraced now.

Rumor has it Yasmine and Moon are trying again, Yasmine realizing for seemingly the first time how awful she’s really been and making an effort to be better. Moon makes her want to be better--more than Demetri ever did, he realizes. And maybe that’s okay--he and Yasmine probably just weren’t right for each other.

Then one day, after yet another one of Demetri’s long-winded apologies, Eli offers something other than an exasperated. “It’s okay. Seriously.” There’s a pause before Eli quietly says “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Demetri blurts out, baffled. Everything Eli’s done has paled in comparison to his own atrocities.

“For outing you,” Eli says simply. “That was fucked. And it wasn’t my place, even if I was mad at you.”

“It’s all right.” Demetri shrugs. “You were right, anyways.”

Eli gives him a strange look. “I was?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Demetri laughs dryly. “I don’t...like girls. I pretended I did, because I felt like I was supposed to. That’s what people expect you to do when you’re a top athlete and all that. But dating Yasmine, chasing other girls, it always felt...empty. Like I was just acting out a role in a play or something. And at the end of the day, I think...” He pauses. “I think I was always looking at you.”

Because the last few months have made him realize something. Training with Eli, teaching Eli how to protect himself, watching Eli step up and defend him from the mistrusting stares and the scornful whispers...

Just how much of the person he’s become is thanks to wanting to protect Eli. The fact that that was always how all this started.

“I love you,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. “I know I did a shitty job of showing it, and I know you were with Moon and you’re not like that, but I need you to know, and I understand if you don’t feel--”

Eli cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pinning him up against the dojo wall with unexpected aggressiveness.

When Eli pulls away, he’s smiling softly. The same smile he gave Moon in the hall as she drew on his cast--the smile that’s once again all Demetri’s.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “Why do you think I broke up with Moon? Every time I was with her...I couldn’t stop wishing it was you. She’ll never know me like you do.”

And Kreese had better look out because Miyagi Fang’s next big power couple is a force to be reckoned with--the snarky, frighteningly fast-attacking ex-Cobra, and the buff, blue-mohawked Miyagi-Do with more inner peace than anyone would expect.

SOME RANDOM SIDENOTES ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE PUTTING THIS ALL IN THE TAGS

~I’m sorry if anyone is OOC in this--I know Johnny is kind of a fuck, but he genuinely WAS pretty crappy to Eli at first and who knows if he would’ve treated him any better if he didn’t “flip the script”??? ~Dark/Evil Demetri is so fun but also so awful to write--I hope you like him being an absolute fuck because the Corruption Arc is REAL ~Yes, I DO in fact fully believe Demetri would go on a crazed revenge quest just like Eli/Hawk did out of his grief for Miguel--the boy absolutely loves Miguel and arguably would want vengeance as much as Eli if their roles were swapped!!! Because Demetri cares about Miguel SO FUCKING MUCH even if it’s not as obvious as it is with Eli but that’s a rant for another post ~I included YasMoon because fuck it, I thought it’d be interesting. That and, unlike the Cobra Kai writers, I am not at all afraid of what conservative audiences will say, so I am not afraid to make things as gay as possible. ~There’s a good chance I swapped Kyler and Brucks’ places near the end solely so I could have Demetri beat the fuck out of Kyler because I just really need that ~Yes, even without formally becoming “Hawk,” Eli could learn how to be a conniving manipulative little shit if he wanted to be. Look at some of the shit he pulls with the counselor in canon Season 3!!! Boy sure as hell knows how to play the victim. ~Honestly not sure if being outed as gay is better or worse than being outed as a bed-wetter, but I had to think of something that would pack the same kind of emotional punch. In Eli’s feeble defense, the West Valley High kids don’t seem like the types to be like...especially violent against queer kids (otherwise NO WAY would Moon and Piper have been able to be that open about their relationship), they’d just be assholes about it. So Eli wasn’t putting Demetri in legit danger here so much as just opening him up to a lot of ridicule. Which is still fucked, but hey, I DID warn you this would be kind of fucked up XD ~Maybe short, concise apologies work for Eli, bUT NOT FOR DEMETRI THE RAMBLER ~Dark Demetri chasing Eli through the school like a goddamn serial killer = 10/10 gave myself a big Spook writing ~Yes, Eli does still have (and always had) his “Hawk” traits, even without the formal “transformation.” I just think his “Hawk” side would be a little more subtle and subdued if he were in Miyagi-Do, but it’s still there for sure.

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viking-raider · 4 years ago

Text

The Immortal Sky - Part IV

Summary: Henry tracks down people that could help him find you, not realizing just how close to you he is. You make it outside the wall of London, entering the wild expanse between it and Bristol.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 8,000

Chapters: I II III

Warning: PG-13 - Future!AU, Dystopian!AU, Language, Abuse of Power, Angst, Mentions of Violence and Drugs

Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write a futuristic fic!

A/N: I would love to thank @wondersofdreaming for being a lovely beta and brainstorm buddy! You’ve kept me sane so many times! Please, Tell Me What You Think!!

“What do you know about Michail Keagan, Mr. Parker?” Henry said, sitting across from your twin brother's Supervisor at his assigned place of work.

“He's a fucking loser.”

The Supervisor laughed, shaking his head at the table between them. “He might spend a whole hour here for his shifts, other than that he's missing in action. I've reported him to the Council of Daily Operations numerous times, but they don't care because he still clocks in, despite it only being for that one hour.”

“So, he knows how to cheat the system.” Henry nodded, chewing on his lip, frustrated.

“Him and that equal loser friend of his, who's supposed to be working for us, but got himself transferred to his family's hole-in-the-wall restaurant.” Parker huffed, rolling his eyes.

“What friend?” Henry frowned, leaning against the table on his elbows.

“Theodore 'Teddy' Wang.” Parker replied. “He's a dishwasher for Wang's Take-Away.”

“Thanks.” Henry said, standing up and extending his hand to Parker, then made his way to the Chinese restaurant.

“Hi, how can I help you?” Jinyu asked from behind the register, smiling as Henry stopped in front of her.

“I'm looking for your son, Teddy Wang.” Henry replied, glancing behind her.

The smile on Jinyu's face melted away, she could tell by the way Henry looked and held himself that he was part of the Marshals Council. “He's not here today.”

Henry sighed, pressing his palms to the nicked counter top and leaned all his weight on his arms, bringing his piercing blue gaze to hers. “Mrs. Wang,” He said softly. “I'm not here to arrest your son, even if he's doing something that warrants it. All I want from him is answers to my questions. It's that simple, unless you and your son want to make it complicated.” He explained to her.

Jinyu stared at Henry for a long time, before rolling her eyes and pointing to the beaded curtain behind her. She knew if she didn't comply, Henry could make a load of trouble for her back at the Council, and she, her family and their business didn't need that. Henry nodded his head to her and stepped around the counter, parting the rattling beads as he stepped into the back of the restaurant and found Teddy there, doing what he was always doing; washing dishes.

“Teddy Wang?” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, who wants--” Teddy started, setting the plate in his hand down and turned towards Henry, drying his hands on his filthy apron. “Oh shit!” He yelped, seeing the imposing Henry, and spun around, tripping over his feet, before catching himself on the edge of the sink and bolting out the back door of the restaurant.

Sighing through his nose and dropping his arms, Henry went after Teddy, quickly catching up to the kid in the trash filled alley, trying to scale a chain-link fence. He easily reached up, grabbing the back of Teddy's shirt and yanked him off the fence, before slamming his back against the grimy wall of his parents' restaurant.

“Look, I ain't got nothin'!” He barked at Henry, squirming.

“Is that so?” Henry smirked, deciding to have a little fun on Teddy's expense. “That's not what I heard.” He shoved a hand into the front pocket of Teddy's faded jeans. “Oh, what's this?” He grinned, pulling out a small, dime-sized bag from the pocket, a sky-blue powder inside of it.

“That's just Naproxen tablets, they must have gotten crushed.” Teddy gulped, looking like a caught sheep.

“Right.” Henry laughed, opening the bag and dumping it out onto the wet ground, then rubbing it out with the sole of his boot.

“Oh, come on, man!” Teddy whined, slumping back against the wall. “That's expensive.”

“Really? I thought Naproxen was only five creds?” Henry replied, tilting his head at the boy.

“One cred is too expensive down here, you'd know that, if you lived in this hell hole too.” Teddy sneered at him. “Marshal.”

Henry smirked at Teddy. “I wanna talk about Mikey Keagan.” He said, cutting to the chase.

“Oh fuck that!” He snapped, shaking his head. “I am getting tired of being roped into their fucking issues.”

“Their?”

“Yeah, their!” Teddy spat. “Mikey tries to rope me into his Running operations and his sister, the last time I saw her, she held me up at knife point, until I told her where her brother went.”

“When was this? That she held you up?” Henry asked, not buying his story about you holding him at knife point.

If only he knew.

“Eight or nine months ago.” Teddy replied. “Mike got into a fight with his parents about becoming a Runner for Jaxon Quinn, over in Sector Three of Bristol, and went down to the Thirty Sectors to stay with a friend. Issy comes by, a week later, and holds me up, until I tell her what friend he's staying with. Gave her shortcuts around the gates and everything.”

“What's the friend's name?” Henry asked, narrowing his eyes as he processed the story.

“Fynn Penmark.”

Henry looked Teddy over. “I'll let you off for having the Sub-Blue. But, if I ever find out you're in possession of it again, I'll make sure you're banished so far outside the walls of London, you'll be on a different fucking continent.” He threatened, pressing Teddy to the wall with a palm to the chest.

“Got it?” He hissed.

“Got it.” Teddy gulped, licking his lips and nodding his head, like a bobble-head.

“Good.” Henry pushed off of him and headed through the back door of the restaurant again.

“Hey, mister!” A boy on the street corner called out to Henry as he was unlocking his car.

“What!” Henry barked back at him.

“You lookin' for a girl?” He asked, and described you to him.

“That's her.” Henry nodded at him, leaning back against his car door. “What do you know about her?”

“What's in it for me?” The boy asked.

Henry chuckled, shaking his head. “What's your name, kid?”

“Oscar.”

“Well, Oscar.” Henry sighed, rubbing his forehead and carding his fingers through his hair. “What do you want for the information?”

Oscar looked around him and pointed back to Wang's Take-Away. “Lunch. She already got me breakfast to see if any of her family was home.” He confessed.

Henry half smirked at the little boy and finally recognized him, so you had been in the area within the last three hours. “Fair enough.” He agreed to Oscar's terms. “Information first, then lunch.”

“She's looking for her brother, says he's in some kind of trouble, didn't say what.” Oscar told him, fidgeting. “Then, she told the Chinese lady to give me some food, got some for herself, then left.” He pointed to the East, toward Sector Twenty-Nine's gate. “That way.”

“All right, kid.” Henry sighed, satisfied with the information and pushed off the car, going back into the restaurant and let Oscar get some food and a drink, before heading towards Sector Twenty-Nine's gate.

He figured you were going to go find this Fynn Penmark's flat, to see if your brother was there, or what Fynn knew about Mikey's whereabouts. Henry gave you credit, you would make a damn good Marshal with the level of forward-thinking and intuition you had going on, in the case of finding your brother. He was also relieved to know that his own intuition about your brother being in some kind of serious trouble was all so right.

Now, to find you and learn the rest of the facts on the matter.

It took some doing, but you finally found out where Fynn Penmark lived. But, as you approached the opening in the wall separating Sector Thirty and Thirty-One, your heart started to race and pound, hands shaking and palms sweating, it became hard to breathe. You stopped and pressed your hands to your face, trying to push back the terrified tears that streaked hotly down your cheeks. You felt like you were breaking loose.

“Are you okay?” A voice nearby asked.

You started, stumbling away from the concerned looking woman. “Stay away from me!” You barked at her, gasping for air.

The woman looked wildly at you, palms held out to show you she meant no harm, but stayed where she was standing. You stared at her, taking huge lungfuls of air, trying to fight off the dizziness clouding your brain and the bright, blinking spots in your eyes. Your tears finally stopped, but your hands still shook, and you could breathe a little bit easier.

“I'm sorry.” You apologized to the lady. “It's been a hard day.”

“It happens.” She replied, lowering her hands. “Do you need to get somewhere?”

“I know where I'm going, thank you though.” You assured her, even if it was possible she didn't mean you any harm, you weren't going to risk it, like you had the last time you were in these Sectors.

“I hope you find what you're looking for.” She told you, honestly.

“So, do I.” You nodded to her, politely.

You waited for her to go back about her business, before finding the opening and slipping through it, careful not to cut yourself again. Eric gave you point by point directions to the shabby building that Penmark lived in. You weren't surprised to find the lift in his building was broken, so you found the stairwell entrance and started mounting them to the twelfth floor.

“Flat 1283-A, Ms.” Eric's voice said through your headphones.

You found the dented and scuffed up door of Fynn Penmark and pounded on it, until he finally opened it. It took everything you had not to just burst out laughing. “Are you Fynn Penmark?” You asked, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Who wants to know?”

He was gangly, face pockmarked from severe acne, that he was still clearly suffering from, his greasy black hair fell to his shoulders, his filthy clothes might have fit properly, if he weighed more than a kilogram, and with the slightest intake of air, you could tell he hadn't showered in a while, he smelled ripe.

“I'm looking for Mike.” You told him, breathing through your mouth.

“I don't know any Mike.” He said, then slammed the door in your face.

Rolling your jaw, you started pounding on his door again.

“Look, bitch.”

“Call me a bitch, and I'll crack your head open with your own door.” You growled at him, heated. “I'm looking for Mikey, he's my brother. My twin brother.”

Fynn looked you over, then cracked a smile. “Oh, I see it now.” He chuckled, leaning against his door. “I haven't seen Mike in a week.”

“Do you know where the idiot's gone?” You asked him, folding your arms over your chest.

“His new handler, Knox Monroe, picked him up from here, as I said, a week ago, to take him to Bristol.”

“How long does it take to get to Bristol?”

“Depending on your transportation, anywhere from three hours to two days.”

“How do you take the three hour trip?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Have someone with a car pick you up and take you there.” He laughed, still smirking at you. “And I'm sure you don't. So, you'll be walking, and that's the two day option.”

“Doesn't seem so bad.” You sighed, frowning at the thought of walking that far.

“Are you stupid?” Fynn snapped, suddenly agitated. “Have you ever been outside the wall? Have you ever seen outside the wall? It's not rainbows and puppies out there. It's a barren fucking wasteland with pocket groups, that are more like feral wolves than humans, that would jump you, rob you and leave you for dead; if they didn't kill you in the process.”

“Have you been out there?” You asked him, chewing on your lip.

“Countless times.” Fynn nodded. “I make the run to Bristol, at least, once a month.”

“Can you take me?” You asked him, hopefully.

“No.” Fynn shook his head at you. “I've already made my run for the month and I don't take tag-alongs.”

“Can you tell me how to get there?” You tried to persuade him.

“Why is it so vital for you to go after him? He'll be back in a couple months.”

“Because, something bad is going to happen to him, and I have to warn him, before it happens.” You told him, desperate.

“Like, what?”

“Can you help me or not?” You snapped at him.

“All right, fine.” Fynn huffed back, rolling his eyes at you. “Come in.” He sighed, pushing the door open for you.

You hesitated for a moment, but stepped into the trashed flat. Fynn pushed some stuff aside until he found an electronic pad and pulled up a map he used to get from London to Bristol, the most efficient and safest way he could, when he did have to walk there. You watched him fuss over it for a few seconds, before holding his hand out to you.

“Mobile.” He grunted, rolling his eyes again and snatched it from your hand. “I'm giving you my best directions there, with a couple of notes, should you need to stay somewhere. Whatever you do, and I mean whatever you do, do not travel at night. I marked several places along the way you can stay at safely or get supplies from, just show them this.” He pulled up a logo on your mobile, his interlocking initials.

“They'll know I sent you and accommodate you, for free, and know you can be trusted.”

“Thank you.” You sighed, taking your mobile back.

“Hey, Mike is a good friend, and he's saved my ass more than once. So, I'm just returning the favor.” Fynn sighed, rubbing his face. “I wouldn't want Mike bashing my head in for getting his sister killed, that's for sure.”

There was a strong knock on the door and Fynn got up to check the peephole.

“Fuck, it's the Marshals.” He snapped.

“Big fellow, shoulders wider than the door, curls and beard?” You asked, your adrenaline pumping.

“You know him?” Fynn asked, shocked.

“You can say that.” You gulped, glancing around. “Please, you have to hide me. If he finds me here, he'll stop me from saving Mikey.” You pleaded with him, clutching at his cold hand. “Please, Fynn.”

“Fucking Christ, you Keagans are a wily bunch.” He huffed, then directed you into his bedroom. “Be quiet and don't touch anything.” He said, pointing a finger at you, before closing the door and rushing to answer Henry's incessant pounding.

“What the fuck do you want?” Fynn barked at Henry, almost able to look Henry in the eye, glaringly.

“High Marshal Cavill.” Henry said, flashing his badge in Fynn's face.

“And?” Fynn huffed, unperturbed, he had dealt with far scarier people, both High Marshals and Crime Bosses before, and wasn't afraid of Henry.

Henry could see that Fynn wasn't frightened by him and his tired blue eyes darkened, before he grabbed Fynn by the shirt and launched him backwards into his flat, then stepped inside himself, kicking the door closed behind him. While Henry didn't usually employ rough tactics and overly abuse his power as a Marshal, he wasn't wholly immune to it either, he still had his flaws and prejudice from his status as a high born and position in London.

“Fynnch Oliver Penmark.” He growled at the Runner and looked around the utterly trashed flat, a scowl of disgust on his face. “Rumor has it, that you're a Runner.” He said, settling his eyes back on Fynn, who was using the cluttered coffee table to pull himself up.

“Vicious rumors.” Fynn huffed, brushing himself off. “That dumb brain at my work place has it out for me, so he keeps trying to report me to the Council of Daily Operations.”

“You certainly don't spend much time at work.” Henry countered. “What were you again? A floor licker?”

“A Janitor.” Fynn barked, scowling. “I don't want to spend all my time in a hostile environment. So, I do enough hours to appease those blood thirsty bastards at the Council, and get paid.”

“We'll see how long that'll last.” Henry replied, folding his arms. “All I have to do is give them one word and they'll cut you off and you won't have this hell hole to keep you cozy in anymore.”

“What do you want, mate?” Fynn sighed with a growl, he was starting to think you weren't worth the trouble Henry wanted to make for him.

“I had a visit with a friend of yours, Teddy Wang, up in Sector Twenty-Eight.” Henry said, pushing aside some trash by his foot. “He told me that you might know something about Mikey Keagan and his sister.”

“I haven't seen Mike, in a week, and I've never met his sister.” Fynn replied, taking a seat on a clear spot on his couch.

“Funny.” Henry hummed, frowning at him. “I had a little informant tell me that she was seen coming this direction, to see you.”

“Well, either that informant lied to you or she's lost her way. Because she's not here or has she been.”

“I doubt you would tell me, if she was.”

“Look, if giving you information on her would get you out of my place and my business, then I'd give it and her to you. But, I don't know where she is and I haven't seen her.” Fynn told him, annoyed. “You can look around, if you want.” He said, motioning around his pig sty.

Henry glanced around with a dirty look, then looked back to Fynn. “I know you're lying to me.” He hissed, his gut was screaming. “So, you either tell me, or I'll make that call right now and arrest you on top of it.” He warned Fynn, taking out his mobile.

“Jesus!” Fynn barked, jumping to his feet. “Fine! She came by an hour ago, looking for her brother, and said she was afraid something bad was going to happen to him, if she didn't find him and warn him about it. She wanted to know when I saw him last and I told her, just like I told you, it's been a week since I saw Mike.”

“What did she do with that information?” Henry asked, lowering his phone.

“She asked if I knew where her brother went.”

“And, where is Mikey?”

“Bristol.” Fynn said, deflating.

“Bristol.” Henry repeated, sighing. “What is Mikey doing in Bristol?”

“I don't-”

Henry grabbed Fynn by the shirt and yanked him against him, narrowing his glowing blue eyes. “Out with it, Slum.�� He growled, harshly.

“He's a Runner.” Fynn yelped, now he was frightened of Henry. “He's been a Runner for the last two years, and he's going to Bristol so he can be trained as an Adjutant Runner for one of the top Crime Bosses of Bristol, Jaxon Quinn.” He babbled out, his eyes huge. “I gave her directions on how to find him there and she left soon after, to start that way.” He added without Henry prompting or threatening him.

“Fuck.” Henry barked, pushing away from Fynn and storming out of his flat, cursing all the way down the hall.

“You can come out now.” Fynn huffed, opening his bedroom door a few minutes later.

“How could you tell him all that!” You snapped at him, punching him on the arm.

“Oh, chill your heels.” He growled, rubbing his arm. “He thinks you're already gone and doesn't know the route you'll be taking. Besides, he's a High Marshal, he's not going to leave the wall for some girl. The Councils wouldn't allow it and even the craziest and most determined Marshals have enough sense not to chance it.”

“I could have just given you away, after all the trouble the asshole gave me.” He added, sourly.

“Thanks.” You grumbled under your breath.

“Hey, when you see your brother again, tell him he owes me for a change.” He called after you.

“Tell him yourself.” You snapped over your shoulder and slammed his door shut.

“She's fucking stupid.”

Henry growled, every muscle in his body was wound up and tight as he thought of you crossing the desolate waste outside the London Wall to Bristol. The danger that laid between there and London, and the even worse danger that lived and functioned inside the city of Bristol itself.

“She's out of her mind!” He kept mumbling, all the way back down to the car. “She's going to get herself killed!” He sighed, running both hands through his hair and making a bigger mess of his wild curls.

“What!” He hissed at his mobile rang through his car's AI.

“Is that how you address your Supreme?” Reyes asked, stiffly.

Henry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. I'm sorry, sir. It's been a horrible morning.” He apologized.

“That Slave of yours keeping you up at night, Cavill.” Reyes laughed, his voice suggestive.

“Not exactly.” He huffed, spent.

“Well, either way.” Reyes sighed, sounding just as tired. “I need you to bring her in for her formal interview. The Council of Clerics have finally started the trials for the Trafficking.”

“Ugh.” Henry groaned, slumping in his seat. “Mother fucker.”

“Henry?” Reyes said slowly, hearing the sound of his voice.

“She's gone.” Henry admitted, regretfully. “I woke up this morning to her, gone. I've been trying to find her all day.”

“You lost her!”

“If you want to put it that way.” He mumbled, picking at his nails and feeling like he was getting scolded by his mother.

“Where is she?”

“Well, if I knew that, I would have her, wouldn't I?” He snapped back, forgetting himself for a moment.

“What have you been doing all day!?”

“Following every lead to find her that I could, Dylon.” Henry defended himself, exasperated. “I've been to her family home, her work place and even her twin brother's workplace, along with every one of their friends'.”

“And?” Reyes screamed, veins bulging from his forehead and neck.

“My latest Intel says, she's on her way to Bristol, to find her brother, Michail.” Henry sighed, his temples throbbing. “She believes he's in trouble, since he's an Adjutant Runner for Jaxon Quinn.”

“Are you telling me, your Slave, has a twin brother, that's a member of a top Crime Boss's business? The same Jaxon Quinn, that funds Twist's Trafficking?”

Henry swallowed, thickly. “Yes.”

“You realize, she's not only a top witness to Twist's operations, but Quinn's as well. She could help us bring him down, Henry! And you let her get away! How did you not know this to start with? Don't, don't fucking answer that. You know, if she gets there and Quinn realizes who she is-”

“He'll kill her.” Henry replied, his voice weakening.

“Has she left for Bristol yet?”

“As far as I know.” Henry replied, depressed on the matter. “I plan on going after her, Dylon.” He added, he had already made the choice to go after you, he didn't care what Dylon or the Councils said on the matter.

“You know, I can't officially back you in your decision to chase after a Slummer, Henry.” Reyes sighed, leaning against his desk and rubbing his own throbbing head. “But, as your friend and someone that wants to take down Twist and Quinn, you have my full backing.”

“What are we going to say when I don't come in for work, for however long it takes me to find and bring her back?”

“I want both of them, Henry. I want her and her brother. She's a witness and he's a conspirator in Quinn's business.” Dylon told him, bluntly. “I'll tell them that you are quite deeply undercover, trying to gain more info.”

“I'll need to go home and take Kal to Charlie's. I'll just tell him, I'm going undercover for a long while and will be back, when I crack the case.”

“That sounds fine.” Reyes nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. “Don't fuck this up, Henry.” He said, then hung up.

“Thanks.” Henry sighed, rolling his eyes.

You were careful as you made your way to the wall, knowing Henry was probably still lurking somewhere nearby, looking for you. You tried to stay in as well populated areas as you dared, hoping to dodge anyone working for Traffickers or getting spotted by Henry.

“Hey, do-”

“Fuck off.” You snapped as a guy approached you, not wanting anything he had to say or wanted from you, and picked up the pace of your walking.

It was starting to get late, after it taking all day to piece your way through the Sectors and follow your brother's footsteps. You probably would have been out of the city by now, if Henry hadn't showed up at Fynn's flat and took vital time interrogating him about you. You wondered how furious he would be to know how close to you he was in Fynn's place, and still didn't manage to catch you.

“We'd have to see each other again.” You mumbled to yourself.

The chances of seeing Henry again were probably pretty slim. After being gone for a little while, he would give up on trying to find you and go back to work for the Marshals and his life. A deep part of you throbbed though, you felt bad for leaving him like that, especially after everything he had done for you. He could have been an absolute monster and treated you like the Slummer that you are, forcing you to wear a Ownership bracelet and making you his proper Slave. But, Henry had been a complete gentleman to you, taking care of your every need and whim, it was almost like he had become your Slave. Then, the charging of several hundred credits to his account for the backpack and mobile, and the dress and jewelry for the party.

“He'll get over it.” You said, shaking your head. “He's a High Marshal, for fuck sake! He probably makes all that in a single case.” You huffed, rolling your eyes.

But, it didn't stop you from feeling bad for leaving him, without a single word.

“Take a right.” Eric's voice said, cutting into your train of thought.

Grunting, you took the quick right at his instruction. As you rounded the corner, you saw, several meters in front of you, the opening in the massive wall that encompassed the city and its citizens. The opening was one-third the size of the meter wide metal and rusted panel, a strip of dying light filtering through the four meter thick wall. Just a kilometer beyond that, was the first place you would be able to find shelter in for the night, then come first light, you would be on your way towards Bristol and your brother.

“Hey!” A harsh call barked behind you as you approached the gap.

You slowly turned and felt a hard lump form in your throat. It was a Beta Marshal, and he looked pissed. “Me?” You squeaked, pointing to yourself, sheepishly.

“Yes, you!” He hissed, face starting to go red with his anger. “Get away from the wall!”

“Why?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him, heart pounding.

“Because, I said so!”

You took a deep breath in and out, turned on your heels and dashed for it. The Beta Marshal screamed for you to stop and come back, but you ignored him. You dove into the opening and shimmed along it, going as quickly as you could, having to turn sideways in a couple of places to get through. The Marshal was still yelling at you, wedging himself into the gap to chase after you.

The light got bright and brighter, despite the sun setting lower and lower, as you struggled through the opening to the outside world, until you finally popped out on the other side, a cool breeze rushing passed you, fresh and clean. You turned back to the hole and saw the Beta Marshal panting about halfway, then made a dismissive motion with his hand and started back inside London.

You were home free now.

“Eric, where's the first safe house?” You asked, grinning and feeling victorious, despite the hundred and eighty-five kilometers between you and Bristol.

“Head straight for an hour, Ms.” Eric replied a moment later.

With Kal taken care of by his family, Henry returned to the Marshal Headquarters, intent on following after you, but knowing he needed better information on how to navigate the world outside London to do so.

“Henry.” Martin grinned as Henry entered his floor in the headquarters. “How are you?”

“Not in the mood.” Henry growled, folding his arms over his chest. “I know you have a Runner in your lock up, Lukas Hadwin.”

“Um,” Martin blinked up at Henry, then turned towards his computer and typed the name into his computer. “I do! He was arrested two months ago and is awaiting trial with the Council of Clerics.” He confirmed, turning back towards Henry.

“I want him brought to a private interrogation room on my floor, in the next five minutes.” Henry told the Alpha Marshall, then turned on his heels and marched back up the three floors to his office, needing the walk to calm down some of his anger.

Four minutes later, Martin shoved Lukas Hadwin into the private interrogation room on the High Marshall's floor, and handcuffed him to the table.

“Get out.” Henry barked at Martin, throwing the door open, startling both Martin and the Runner.

“But, Hen-” He started to protest, but his blood froze in his veins seeing the look on Henry's face. “High Marshall, he's my arrest, so he's my responsibility.”

“I outrank you, Sidwell.” Henry growled back at him, the anger he had managed to walk off started boiling again. “So, when I tell you to get out of my fucking interrogation room, I mean, get out.” He hissed.

Martin licked his lips, sheepishly, his mouth drying up. “Of course, High Marshall.” He croaked, edging around Henry, for the door.

“Mr. Hadwin.” Henry said, reaching up to the camera in the corner of the room and turning it off. “According to your extensive file, you're a high ranking Runner for a Bristol Crime Boss.”

“Total bullshit.” Lukas barked, trying hard to keep the angry and outraged expression on his face, despite shaking in his jail issued trainers. “My bitch of an ex-girlfriend reported me to the Council of Marshals, telling you corrupt pricks that I was a Runner, because I broke up with her and refused to pay her flat fees.”

“Is that so?” Henry replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Then, what's this?” He asked, dropping an open file on the table and pointed to a section of it. “Says you and another known Runner were arrested in 2864, for possession of a large cache of Sub-Blue. Your little partner in crime blabbed about how you both worked for a lucrative Crime Boss, running the drugs between Bristol and London.”

“Was he lying?”

Lukas glowered at the report, but didn't answer Henry's question; which only increased Henry's blood pressure. Grabbing the back of Lukas's neck, Henry slammed his face onto the metal table, cracking the screen on the file, and rested an uncomfortable amount of his weight on Lukas's neck.

“Was he lying?!” He yelled, directly into his ear.

“No!” Lukas cried out, squirming, fruitlessly.

“What Crime Boss?” Henry continued to yell.

“Benji Hernandez!” He squealed, whimpering.

Henry pushed off of Lukas's neck with a huff, he had heard about Hernandez, he had heard about all of the big time Crime Bosses that ruled Bristol like the Council of Clerics and Royals ruled London. But, Hernandez was the cream of the crop. His family was credited with establishing Bristol and bringing it to the level, almost on par, with London through deep waves of crime, selling every drug they could get their hands on or manufacture themselves, their number one seller was unsurprisingly, Sub-Blue.

Many Crime Bosses and groups had tried dethroning the Hernandez Family, and all had failed. They had too much money, too much power and their followers, all across England, were loyal, to the death. A massive turf war had broken out several years back, the first conflict of the sort since the end of the fourth war. It had mainly broken out and was confined in Bristol, with pockets of skirmishes in London and the other major city of England, Chester, before finally being squashed. Dozens of people were killed and maimed in the four month long battle, and the Hernandez's kept their throne and were still stronger than ever.

The Hernandez's family, friends and their most distinguished workers were the only ones that lived in Sector One and Two of Bristol, everyone else lived in Sector Three to Sector Fifteen.

“How do you get to Bristol?” Henry asked, pacing around the table.

“It depends.” Lukas panted, rubbing the back of his sore neck.

“On?” Henry pressed.

“The size of the load.” He replied, groaning. “If it's a small load, I'll walk there. If it's a large load, then we'll be driven from a checkpoint outside London to Bristol and back.”

Henry quietly paced around the room, brooding on his next course of action. He knew, for a fact, you wouldn't be driving to Bristol, or knew someone, other than your brother, who was already gone, that could drive you there. So, you had to be heading for Bristol on foot. He debated how he would follow after you, he could take his car to find you, sure he could reach you faster that way, but the moment he managed to get out of the wall with it, his car's on board locator would alert the appropriate channels and they'd go after him.

Especially since going after you wasn't authorized and being done quietly. Leaving Henry with the same option you had been saddled with.

Walking

“How do you get from London to Bristol?” He asked and leaned against the table, across from Lukas.

“There's two routes to Bristol.” Lukas sighed, knowing if he didn't tell Henry the information he wanted, the High Marshal would no doubt beat it out of him. “One is only used if you have a car, because pit stops are few and far between, and you don't want to be caught out there alone, especially at night. So, staying in the moving protection of a car is the best way for that path, since it's longer.”

“The other?”

“The other, is the one that's usually used by Runners that are walking between the two. It's shorter, by several kilometers, but slightly more dangerous than the car route, since it runs through several mini-towns that people, who were either banished or choose to live out there, populate. Some of them and the mini-towns are friendly and benevolent, but most are not. So, if you don't know what ones to stop in, chances are, you'll end up dead and stripped clean of any valuables they can take back into the cities and trade for goods.”

Henry gulped thickly, and felt a cold sweat break out on his skin as he battled the anxiety of you being out there, alone, for so long. He knew it was critically dangerous out there, but hearing Hadwin talking about it and the things between the two cities made it abundantly clear it was even more dangerous than he thought.

“Are you all right?” Lukas asked, seeing Henry's scruffy face steadily grow pale.

“I'm fine.” Henry growled, getting a handle on himself. “How do you know this other route, you used to walk there?”

“It's been used by thousands of Runners, for years.” Lukas laughed, shaking his head. “But, it was recently refined by another Runner.” He added, tugging on his cuffs. “Fynn Penmark recently compiled a map of safe places that Runners can stay for the nights and buy supplies.”

What were the chances? Henry thought.

“You'll be giving me that map.” He told him.

“I can't!”

Lukas squeaked, frightened at the thought of a High Marshal having the map showing him where Runners were coming and going from, the places they stayed and people that aided their operations.

“They'll kill me, if they find out I gave it to you!” He protested.

Henry leaned across the table, bringing his face close to Lukas's. “Look in my eyes and ask yourself, if you think I give a fuck?” He whispered, his tone cold and calculated.

“Now, give me the directions.”

Lukas gulped and nearly peed himself from the energy brewing off of Henry, who didn't pull back as he gave him the directions for the route. Henry looked over the map, making a legend of the symbols Lukas had made along the way, marking places to sleep and get supplies, as well as places that should be avoided at all costs. Once he was satisfied and sure the Runner wasn't lying to him and had told him all he knew, Henry stepped out into the hall and by Martin, not exchanging a single word with him.

Returning to his flat, Henry felt the quiet throughout it, without Kal's barked greeting and you either watching tv or listening to music. He missed those noises and being greeted by the both of you as he got home from work or wherever he had gone. Sighing, he grabbed a bag and stuffed a few items into it, a change of clothes, a small medical kit and a few other things he felt he might need, then checked to make sure his service weapon was still secure to his hip. Knowing it was getting cold out, Henry took off his coat and shirt, and pulled on his base layer HAMR, long sleeve shirt to wear under his black, knit sweater, before pulling his lightweight down jacket back over that.

Slinging his backpack over his back, situating his beanie on his head and zipping up his coat, Henry went back out the door, locking it up and rode the lift down to the ground floor. He knew a place in Sector Four with a large enough hole in the wall that he could squeeze through and start his journey to finding you.

Taking his best guess and trusting his gut feeling, Henry made his way to one of the first safe houses on the map, that you would likely stop in for the night. He just hoped he could get there before you left. But, you had an almost five hour head start on him already. Since, he had to spend so much time pulling information out of Hadwin, plus the nearly a two hour walk around the wall to get to the closest point to the house, and where you nearly had a straight shot to it, then the hour to the mini-town.

Within an hour of you both leaving Fynn's flat, Henry had entered the Marshal's Headquarters to interrogate the known Runner, Lukas Hadwin, on how to get to Bristol, and you had reached the opening in the wall. While you finally reached the safe town and your room, Henry had been grilling Hadwin for a tense hour. For the next two, you took a much needed rest, and Henry finally finished juicing Hadwin for every bit of info he had, including the map Fynn had given you for the trip. He then rushed home, taking Kal to Charlie's and packing a bag to follow after you.

Henry wasn't afraid of the nearly three hour walk to the house, in the middle of the night. He could easily protect himself, both with his weapon and his hands, it was you that consumed all of his worry and fear. You had nothing to protect you, other than your wits, but those would only get someone so far, before running out and getting you severely injured, or killed.

“Please, just keep her safe until I can reach her.” He said out loud, looking up at the inky black sky and twinkling stars.

“That's all I ask.” He sighed, walking faster.

You were exhausted after running around London all day, running from Henry and a Beta Marshall, then walking non-stop for a solid hour to reach the first safe place on Fynn's map, just as the last rays of sunlight died behind the horizon.

“Who are you and what do you want?” A hard looking woman behind a makeshift counter asked as you entered the decrepit building that was marked as a safe place.

“I'm a friend of Fynn's.” You told her, approaching the counter and showed her Fynn's logo off his map.

“I guess you want a room then?” She asked, turning her back to you and grabbed a key off the wall behind her.

“I do.” You replied, sheepishly.

“This way.” She rasped, disappearing through a doorway.

You gulped and followed after her, following her down a long dimly lit hallway with rows of doors on either side. She stopped by a door in the middle of the hallway and jammed the key in the lock and opened it. Pushing it open, she handed you the key and went back down the hall, leaving you alone. You leaned into the room, flicking on the light and finding it bare, only furnished with a bed, a single chair and nothing else, not even a window.

Sighing and figuring it was better than nothing, you stepped inside, closed and locked the door behind you, even shoving the chair up against it, for added security, before sitting down on the squeaky and dingy bed. Shrugging off your backpack, you unzipped it and pulled out a package of food you'd brought with you, slowly munching on it, before making sure Eric woke you up as soon as it was light out, and laid back on the bed; using your pack as a pillow. But, it took you a long time to fall asleep, the room was cold and there were scratching noises happening all around you, making you paranoid. But, eventually your exhaustion won out and you fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of your brother dying and Henry's voice calling out to you.

The time seemed so short, when Eric's voice sounded in your ears, and in reality, it had only been a mere two hours. Now, unknowingly, three hours ahead of Henry, you woke groggily and sat up, rubbing at your face, as you got up and pulled your backpack on. You removed the chair from your door and went down the hall to the front desk, finding the same lady there.

“Do you have a bathroom?” You asked her through a yawn and handed her the room key back, your bladder screaming.

She pointed to a door on the other side of the room and you went inside, grimacing at the filthy condition of it, but you really needed to pee, so you made do with it. Emptying your bladder, you looked at your map and found a supply store a mile up from you and headed that way, hoping for something decently hot, and was overjoyed to find a brewing coffee pot. You showed the supplier Fynn's mark, then filled a reusable cup with the hot brown liquid and roamed around as you sipped at it. Taking a couple more things of food, refilled your water bottle and pieced together something for breakfast.

“Thanks.” You smiled at the supplier as you finished your breakfast and refilled the coffee cup, before getting back on your way.

You made sure to follow Fynn's advice and the map, keeping your eyes to yourself and walking as quickly as you could to avoid trouble or attracting any unwanted attention. Everyone else around you did the same, there were very few people just standing around, those that were, begged for credits to buy things or trying to sell something else.

But, you ignored their harks and kept walking.

Once you were clear of the mini-town, you dared to have Eric put on some low music, the eerie quiet of the area playing on your anxious nerves as you headed for the next safe place, four hours to the north of your location. You decided to walk there as quickly as you could, then decide whether or not you could risk walking the extra two hours to the next one after that, without risking your own safety. Even though the sun had only just risen, you didn't want to play it risky or get cocky. If you did, and got yourself in trouble, you wouldn't make it to Bristol, hopefully in time to warn Mikey about potentially being in trouble, as Quinn's Runner.

“I'll make it, I know I will.” You assured yourself, pushing down the fearful anxiety. “I will.” You repeated, stubbornly, clenching your hands into fists. “I have too.” You added even softer, weakening to some of that concern.

“Have you seen this girl?” Henry asked, approaching a hard looking woman and showing her a photo he had taken of you and Kal, not that long ago.

“No.” The woman replied, shaking her head.

Henry narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was lying through her missing teeth. Had he been in London, he would have simply slapped his badge on the counter and she would have sang like an Opera singer on opening night. But, he wasn't and that move would have sealed her lips up tighter than a crab's shell, and probably gotten him into a heap of trouble, wasting more of his time.

“Fine.” He sighed, turning away from her and heading back outside.

Glancing around, he spotted an elderly man standing at the corner, hands held out to every person that walked by him.

“Hey, old timer.” He said, walking up to him.

“Credit for a sandwich?” The old man asked, reaching his hands out to Henry.

“How about a sandwich for some information?” Henry asked, pulling a sandwich out of his pack. “Have you seen this girl?” He inquired, showing him your photo.

“Yeah, saw her super early this morning.” the old man replied, scratching his scraggly beard. “Just as I was setting up here, after first light, maybe three hours ago.”

“Looked in a mighty rush to be somewhere.” He added, nodding to himself.

“Thank you.” Henry thanked him and let him have the sandwich, plus an extra sandwich, just to be nice to the poor man, then started power walking away, knowing he was on the right path to find you and that the gap between you was steadily closing.

“I've got you now.” Henry smirked to himself.

150 notes · View notes

troubatrain · 4 years ago

Text

sober - m. barzal (pt. two)

a/n: part two every body give it up for reposting part two!!

One - Three

The sounds of skates on the ice at the Rangers practice facility were becoming almost therapeutic at this point, you close your eyes basking in it for a moment while you edited a video from a charity event the team hosted the week before. You had a makeshift desk in the hallway that led to the locker, trying to get as much work as you could none so you could try and wipe your memory of everything that had to do with Mat Barzal. You knew you shouldn’t have let him win, because men that smug don’t need an ego boost, but you did. Mika’s voice on the other side of that bathroom door was the wake up call you desperately needed. Mat Barzal was a gigantic mistake, and you had to just forget he ever existed. But, his contact was burning in your phone, Mat with a blue and orange heart just to piss you off a little bit more.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Chris huffs out, his large frame towering over you and leaning on your desk. His eyebrows were furrowed, he’d seen right through, something was off.

“Nothing Kreids,” You roll your eyes, trying to cover up the fact that you were thinking about Mat’s mouth on your pussy in that bar bathroom, “Seriously, I’ll get over it.”

“This is about a guy isn’t it?” Chris questions, grabbing the chair across from you and sitting in it, “Spill.”

“I’m not diving into my dating life with you,” You snap back, catching yourself before your tone gets too harsh. It wasn’t that Chris wasn’t your friend, because he was, it was that you didn’t want to get caught gossiping when you were supposed to be working. Charlotte would have your head on a stick, and everything you’d been working for since you got the job would just be for nothing, “I’m fine seriously, I have a date tonight.”

You did. The night after you last saw Mat, you’d gotten bored enough to open up Tinder on your phone. A couple of swipes later, you had a date with some finance bro from Murray Hill you weren’t going to call the next day. If you wanted to get over somebody, you were just going to have to get under somebody else. Plus, in a city this big, the odds you’d ever run into Mat again were probably slim.

“Like a real date or a rebound date?” Chris asks, a humorous tone to his voice. Chris was a romantic, but you knew Chris Kreider’s were few and far between. So while you were young, you decided that it didn’t matter if you fell in love, you could do that later. For now, you were going to work hard and play harder.

“A rebound date,” You smirk, watching Chris roll his eyes at you, “Don’t slut shame me Chris or I will-”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Chris defends throwing his hands up before you really got into it, “Just call me if he’s a creep or something, please.”

“Okay dad,” You snort, laughing and directing your attention back to the video you were supposed to be editing.

***

Maybe you should have listened to Chris. The man sitting in front of you did nothing besides talk about himself, his job, and he was unbelievably rude to your waiter. You should expect this, as if some random dude you met off Tinder would be some sort of gentleman but you thought maybe, just maybe, you’d be wrong. Unfortunately for you, you were just reminded of one thing - men are trash.

“So what do you do?” Chad asks, which could very possibly actually be his name but you’d forgotten while you were trying to block this entire night from your memory.

“Oh, I work for the Rangers,” You shrug, it wasn’t that you weren’t proud of your job. But the questions that came after were always the same, and if you were right, Chad would have the same answer.

“They must love having a pretty little thing like you around,” The words were sleazy, and they left the same icky feeling in your stomach that they always did. You didn’t want to be some pretty little thing that was around for someone’s amusement. You were an adult who had a pretty important job and you liked to be respected and in the little bubble you lived in at MSG, you were. But, no one outside of 8th and 33rd seemed to agree.

That was the moment when you realized someone’s eyes had been on you the whole time, stopping you from chewing out your date in the middle of the restaurant. Mat Barzal was seated across the restaurant, a girl who looked like a supermodel in front of him. You roll at your eyes at his cocky smile, the girl paying no mind that he wasn’t even listening to her. You pull your phone, letting Chad ramble on about how nice your gig with the Rangers must be.

stop staring at me barz

i can’t when you look like that angel

pretty sure the girl in front of you should keep you busy

pretty sure the guy in front of you is a douche, sneak out of here in 5?

in your dreams

i’ve had dreams about you, they’re pretty fucking filthy though

You stop, rubbing your thighs together subconsciously. You were on this date to forget Mat ever existed and going home with him would be an enormous mistake. One more time couldn’t hurt? Right?

call the uber loser

You watched Mat’s face light up, practically slamming cash down and saying goodbye to his date, before he skipped out of the restaurant. You shake your head at his obviousness, excusing yourself to go use the restroom and thanking whatever higher power that it was close to the exit. The second you stepped out, you could feel an arm wrap itself around you - pulling you into a broad chest.

“I like this little game we’re playing,” Mat smirks, pecking your lips while you wait for a car to pull up. You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for an explanation, “You know, where you pretend to hate me because we’re supposed to but in reality you can’t stay away - you know how these movies end.”

“I can go back inside,” You threaten, pointing to your date who is still sitting at the table.

“Why? So you can hang out with some dude who you know can’t get you off like I can,” Mat scoffs, his ego getting bigger by the second.

“Maybe I’ll just steal your date,” You smirk, taking notice of the way Mat’s face lit up, “You’re a pig.”

“You’re not a ray of fucking sunshine either you know,” Mat scoffs.

“Your ego’s huge, I’m just keeping you humble,” You tease, pushing his arm off of you, he didn’t get to claim you like that.

“It’s not going to humble me when you’re at my apartment screaming my name,” Mat smirks, and you roll your eyes.

***

Mat’s apartment was a vague memory from the night you had spent. But, you remembered enough to point out every reason why you hated it. It was a bachelor’s apartment, filled with overpriced dark furniture that you know someone else picked out - or even worse, it came with the apartment. The view was immaculate, the floor to ceiling windows lived in the dreams of your own ideal place. The decor was typical, a few jerseys framed on the walls that you most definitely should have noticed when you left his place.

“You can say you hate it,” Mat chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist while you continued to take in the apartment, “I’m sure it’s not up to your standards.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, biting your lip to suppress the moan that was trying to escape with Mat was nibbling at your ear lightly.

“It means you know you’re better than me,” Mat whispers, “But I know there’s one thing I’m better at than you and that’s why you’re here. I can fucking ruin you.”

“Mat,” You sigh, elbowing him in the stomach while he smirked against your neck, “I’ll ruin you first.”

Mat let out a dramatic groan, “You’re such a brat.”

Before you could defend yourself and chirp him back, Mat had his large hands on your thighs while he carried you into his bedroom, dropping you on the bed. His mouth was sucking at your neck, and you knew you were going to have to invest in a new concealer if you kept this up. Well, at least he finally shut up-

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Mat whispers, his hands exploring your body, “You going to remember it this time?”

“Shut up,” You whimper, trying to let out how good Mat’s hands under your shirt actually felt. They were huge, and the rough skin against yours made your pussy flutter. Mat unclasped your bra, smirking to himself when he got it on the first try, “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice.”

“I have that’s why I know I’m good,” Mat smirks, climbing down your body while you shed your clothes. Mat slips his finger under your jeans, pulling your panties off in one swift motion, “Fuck, I think you know it too. Are you this wet for little old me?”

You didn’t have words for his stupidity, instead you kicked his back with the heel of your foot. You heard Mat’s laugh while he pressed open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, “You’d be a lot cuter if you were nicer.”

“You’d be a lot cuter if you didn’t laugh like a hyena but here we are,” You chirped, sighing when you feel Mat’s finger slid up your folds.

Mat Barzal’s oral game was, in all honesty, immaculate. Were you going to let him know that? Absolutely not. Were you going to let him milk for every orgasm you had left? You might.

“Mat, fuck,” You let out a breathy moan, a real one trying to escape you. Mat had made you cum twice already, and his mouth was well on his way to a third before his dick even touched you.

“Let me hear you Y/N,” Mat halts his movements, curling his fingers to see if he could just get it out of you.

“Faster,” You moan out, your hips lifting to try and get his fingers to start moving again. Mat smirks, finally satisfied before his tongue swirled your clit to send you over the edge. Mat finally pulled away, wiping the sides of his mouth that were glistening from you.

“Ready for me?” Mat asks, a smug smile on his face. You nod, watching while he reached over into his nightstand to grab a condom.

“That box is awfully big,” You joke, not able to stop yourself from making fun of Mat. In reality, he probably wasn’t any better than you were, but that didn’t mean for a second you didn’t think he needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

Now, it was Mat’s turn to roll his eyes, “Because you’re such an angel.”

“I’m not, I’m the devil,” You smile, biting your lip while you watched Mat roll the condom over his cock. This part you may have remembered vaguely, but you didn’t remember how big it really was.

“Tell me if I’m being too rough,” Mat groans, entering you slowly so you could adjust to him. At least he isn’t a total douche.

“I thought you were going to ruin me Barz,” You tease, “I’m sure you know better than to talk a big game and not deliver.”

Mat’s eyes went a shade darker, a smirk on his face while he snapped his hips back and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a moan that was so loud you were positive his neighbors heard. His pace kept up, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours filled the room. You grab into any skin you could find while Mat continued to pound into you, your legs practically shaking from the feeling. Your nails dug into his skin, only boosting Mat’s confidence that he was good.

Mat gave you one more orgasm before he finally let himself go, his hips stuttering and a string of curse escaping his mouth. He stayed for a minute, trying to let you both bring yourselves down before he finally slipped out of you.

“You can stay if you can’t walk,” Mat jokes, his nude frame walking back into his room with a warm towel to clean you up. You didn’t peg him as much of an aftercare guy, especially for someone who probably got laid more than the average person.

“I’ll crawl back to Manhattan before I sleep in this bed with you,” You say while you pull yourself up from the bed. You gather your clothes, getting dressed while Mat watches you from his bed.

“So…” Mat starts, his hands behind his head in a way that was just so masculine you didn’t know if you wanted to go another round or punch him square in the face, “Did I make the team?”

“We can’t do this again,” You say, trying your hardest to keep your cool. If you were being honest, you probably would have done it again.

“We can,” Mat suggests wiggling his eyebrows, “It’ll be our dirty little secret, that’s hot.”

“Barz...”

“Y/N...”

“I’ll call you.”

“So I made the cut?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #my writing

92 notes · View notes

fluffi · 4 years ago

Text

my little dirt ball. | hueningkai

pairing: hueningkai x reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers!au, hauntedhouse!au

word count: 9k

author’s note: wow...my first published fic and its 9k words...i don’t really know what to think of this, but I hope everyone likes it!

warnings: vague descriptions of things in haunted houses, y/n being an oblivious idiot

others: this is part of a halloween group collab. You can see everyone else’s works here! this also is in correlation to an upcoming yeonjun fic i have planned (see bonus)!

special thanks: @/spookybias for literally taking 30 min of her time to help me get the entire fic in order and @/yeonjuncore as inspiration for the correlation fic thingy (see her hueningkai and soobin halloween fic).

October 31, 2020 | 6.38am

You were unable to fall asleep. Tossing, turning, and sitting up ever so often in a sweaty mess. You would walk over to the thermostat, turn it down, only for you to wake up shivering. Then the cycle would repeat, so you never ended up actually sleeping.

While squirming in bed, you heard loud thumps emitting from your bedside window. What the heck? It wasn’t raining, you were sure of it, since you couldn’t hear water leaking in your bathroom. Just then, your phone rang. You groggily sat up and pressed the green answer button, without bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Wake up, loser. Did you forget that it’s October 31? Halloween?”

Right. That was what I forgot. You were so busy doing projects and finishing assignments in school that you forgot your yearly tradition with your Halloween-enthusiast best friend, Kai. He was probably very annoyed at your lack of attendance, but you were tired. Maybe the tradition could wait till next year.

You groaned. “Sorry, sorry. I know we’re supposed to meet at the park like we do every year, at 6am. But Dude, I’m so tired. Can we postpone this meetup? I have 3 more English projects that I have to finish, and I can’t seem to fall asleep tonight.”

“Perfect! Since you can’t sleep, we’re meeting. Dress up and sneak out, like last year, and every other year before that. You don’t have to walk to the park. I’m outside your house right now, throwing these really nice pebbles at your window. By the way, these pebbles are nice. They’re like, really freaking shiny. Where’d your mom get them fro-“

You accidentally ended the call, cutting him off. To be fair, you weren’t expecting him to blabber about stupid walmart pebbles for such a long time.

Sometimes you wondered why you were friends with Kai, and then you remembered that it was because you liked him. A lot. You liked him way too much. Kai was always stuck in your brain. Every thought you had when you were alone was about him, and almost every thought you had when you were with him, well, you couldn’t even think straight when you were around Kai. But he didn’t need to know that. He was just that popular cute boy, living his best life surrounded by drop-dead gorgeous girls who would do just about anything to be with him. They were ten times prettier than you, surely he wouldn’t settle for a girl like Y/N L/N.

You pulled yourself out of your pity puddle when you remembered that Kai was waiting for you outside. The boy you were probably in love with, who might break your window if you don’t hurry up and meet him right now. You swear, if you hear the tapping of rocks at your window one more time...

You sat up, opened your window, and screamed, “Kai Kamal Huening, I swear, if you do not stop right now, I will drag your as-“

7.02am

“Hey, random question. Why does this tradition have to be exactly the same every year? Why does it matter if I meet you at 6am? What if I meet you at 6.10am? In that case, will you stop being friends with me?” You teased, trudging alongside Kai on a rugged concrete path.

Kai sighed, tilting his head to look at you with his beautiful, brown eyes. “It matters because it takes 15 minutes to walk from your neighborhood’s park to Mr. Roger’s pumpkin patch, and he opens at 6.20am exactly, every single Halloween. If you get to the park at 6.10am, we’ll reach his pumpkin patch at 6.30am. By then, all the competitive mothers who want their child to have the best pumpkin will have taken all the round, orange, hard-enough-to-carve-but-not-so-hard-that-carving-becomes-a-chore kind of pumpkins, and we’ll be stuck with the oblong shaped, ugly pumpkins.”

“Then why aren’t we running? At this rate, we will only get rotten mushy pumpkins.”

“We aren’t running because you have tiny legs and we won’t make it that far before you get tired. I don’t want you to get hurt, shortie.” Kai teased, sticking out his tongue while leaning over you in an attempt to intimidate you.

At this point, he was only a few inches away from you, and the both of you were so close that you could peck his lips. As much as you wanted to, you resisted the urge to lean closer towards him and instead laughed nervously as he smiled at you. This action only made your heart beat faster. It didn’t help that he just said that he cared about you, and despite the statement being so lighthearted, it warmed your heart to know that he prioritized your well-being over pumpkins.

Your heart was thumping faster and faster, and you were turning into an embarrassed mess. Cheeks hot and red, eyes darting everywhere. Come to think of it, that plant behind Kai looks interesting, how come you’ve never seen it before?

The awkward tension was getting quite unbearable at this point, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I-uh...we…um….uh...race you to the pumpkin patch! Yeah..uh..let's go!” You nervously muttered, trying to sound confident. You immediately ran opposite the direction of where the both of you were supposed to go.

“Y/N! The pumpkin patch is this way!” Kai confusedly shouted. “You’ve been to the pumpkin patch multiple times! Where are you even going?”

You were getting out of breath, but you would only stop running once you were out of Kai’s sight. “Uh...I’ll take the longer route! Yeah...I’ll meet you there...uh...don’t follow me!” You turned around and started running backwards, so you could see if Kai would start following you.

“Y/N! Stop running, wait! No! Look behind you!”

The last thing you saw was Kai’s figure running towards you before your head hit the ground with a loud thud.

7.46am

“Ugh, what do you want? Why did you wake me up? And why is Y/N sleeping in your arms?”

Kai was at Beomgyu’s house, holding your unconscious self bridal-style in his arms. You had tripped over a brick ledge all because your idiotic self was too panicked with the thought of kai finding out that you liked him.

Kai sighed, “Look hyung, I’m sorry if this is a huge hassle, or that I may be disturbing your 8-hour beauty sleep, but Y/N fell down, and she isn’t asleep. I think she got knocked out.”

Beomgyu started frantically waving his hands and shouting incoherently. “Oh my gosh, are you serious? If she’s knocked out, we have to go to the hospital! We have to call 911! What if she doesn’t wake up?? Kai, why did you bring her here, this isn’t my problem! Oh my goodness, I’m not even kidding, wh-“

While Beomgyu was going full-on emergency mode, you had regained your senses and was starting to stir. Maybe it was because Beomgyu’s panicking actions had woken you up, or that you had a sixth sense blaring huge warning signs all across your brain because you were in Kai’s arms. Wait, you were in Kai’s arms?

You slowly fluttered your eyes open to see Kai looking confusedly at a screaming Beomgyu, who seemed so sure that you would never wake up. As you laid in the Kai’s arms, you gazed at his ethereal features. Brown eyes with gorgeous golden specks in them, wavy brown hair, his cute little boopable nose, he was a literal angel who looked perfect from every angle. Just then, said angel looked down at you.

“Beomgyu-hyung! She’s awake! Her eyes are open! Why is she smiling? Hi Y/N, good morning, why are you smiling? Her cheeks are really red too, she looks like she’s drunk! HAHA! Y/N, Y/N?”

It took you a few minutes to register that Kai was talking to you, and that he was indeed, calling your name. By the time you tried opening your mouth to respond, gross-man-Beomgyu was already looking over at you with utter disgust and relief clouding his face.

“Oh, good. I thought she was going to die. Okay, now just in case idiot Y/N stumbles and falls again, she should rest here. You guys can leave when she feels better. Ugh, the things I do for you guys. Sacrificing my 8-hour beauty sleep, my privacy, and most importantly, my lovely couch, that disgusting Y/N is going to lay on.”

You once again came back from Kai Dreamland when you realized that Beomgyu had just insulted you. About to rebut, you remembered that you were still in Kai’s arms and that he was starting to carry you to the couch. Feeling the heat that was rising up your cheeks, you immediately tried squirming out of Kai’s arms.

You tried lifting your legs off his left arm and grabbing on his right one for support. “Uh, Kai, actually, I feel better already. I can walk myself to the couch, yeah, thanks.”

Kai stifled a laugh and bemusedly stared at you. “Y/N, you just fell down and knocked yourself out. The couch isn’t too far, if I can carry you to Beomgyu’s house then I can surely carry you to the living hall.”

“No, um, I’m good. I’m independent!” As you fumbled out of Kai’s grasp and began attempting to get to the couch, you thought to yourself. Y/N, how stupid. Who uses ‘I’m independent’ as an excuse? Way to blow it in front of your 10-year-crush.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu, who had been grabbing water, immediately put the cup down and ran towards you, who was struggling to even walk in a straight line. Grabbing your arms and dragging you to the couch, he tutted. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Y/N, you really be walking like a drunk man at 4am. Why did Kai stop carrying you? He shouldn’t have put you down, for goodness sake, you nearly knocked down my mom’s sacred glass vase with your swinging beanstalk arms!”

Kai lifted both of his hands in defense. “I didn’t put her down. I insisted on carrying her all the way to the couch but she flailed around in my arms and said she could walk just fine. I’m starting to think that she might have an actual brain injury.”

You, being perfectly fine and functioning decently with your 3 brain cells, had only gotten dizzy from the sudden shift of laying down to standing up. You had laid down on the couch and was starting to drift off to sleep. The last thing you heard was Kai and Beomgyu giggling about something related to brains, but you were too tired to ask them about that inside joke.

8.40 am

“So...have you told her?”

Beomgyu and Kai were sitting on the floor in the living hall, with you fast asleep on the couch behind them. There were cards messily sprawled across the floor, and 2 cup noodles on a chair placed in front of them.

Kai sighed. He discreetly held up his uno cards in front of his face to block the reddening that was beginning to form on the apples of his cheeks.

“Told who what?”

“Oh, stop acting so oblivious. Ya know, have you told Y/N that you like her?”

Kai felt his cheeks heat up even more and he embarrassingly smacked Beomgyu’s arm. “Hyung, are you dumb? Y/N’s right behind us. She probably just heard you say that. Plus, did you forget about the very special Halloween plan happening in like, 10 hours?” He quickly turned around to see if you were actually asleep and not just getting some shut-eye. You were definitely deep into your slumber, hair all messed up and your body spread across the couch in an very uncomfortable looking position. However, to Kai, you looked extremely cute. He couldn’t resist the urge to smile ear to ear. Kai wanted to boop your nose right then and there, and was fighting hard to resist this temptation in fears of waking you up. He removed his baby blue hoodie and gently placed it on your sleeping figure, doing his best to not wake you up.

Beomgyu, who was looking disgustedly at Kai’s chival gesture and his beaming face, made a heart with his hands between the both of you. “Wow, you are whipped for Y/N. Anyways, she’s clearly asleep. She looks like a pig! And it wouldn’t matter if she heard me say that you have a crush on her. She clearly likes you too.”

Kai scowled at Beomgyu’s insult, and sat back down. “First of all, do not say that Y/N looks like a pig, she’s gorgeous and way prettier than you. Secondly, no! She definitely doesn’t like me that way! She probably thinks my Halloween obsession is weird, and I’m probably not the type of guy she likes. She likes ‘hot’ dudes.” Kai gagged when he said that statement.“She probably likes Yeonjun or something, they would be cute together.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes and declared. “Have you seen the way she looks at you? Her eyes sparkle and she awes at you like you're the only thing that matters on this planet! Heck, you probably are the only thing that matters to her on this planet.” Beomgyu sighed, rolling his eyes. “You two are so oblivious.”

“Let’s divert the topic, this is making me flustered and I don’t like it.” Kai said, as he picked a draw 8 card from the fan of uno cards that was still covering his burning red cheeks. “I was initially planning to just skip you, but because you brought this topic up, draw 8.”

Beomgyu innocently smiled, then put down a draw 4 card. He looked back up at Kai, stuck his tongue out, and then cheekily laughed at the fuming boy.

Kai’s cheeks were glowing red again, but this time, it was for an entire different reason.

October 31 2020 | 8.10am -> October 31 2009 | 9.33am

While the boy you were in love with and the boy you wanted to punch into a different dimension were talking about you, you were deep inside Kai Dreamland.

Almost every night, you dreamed about dating him. Being able to feed each other food, holding each other’s hands, cuddling, and being able to do ‘justcouplethings” with him. This dream, however, was very different.

Unbeknownst to you, a past flashback was about to happen, and it would make you finally realize why you liked Kai so much.

You were looking at your very young self in third person, who was wearing a weird wire contraption shaped like a sphere. Draped on top of the contraption was a dirty brown blanket, and stuck on top of it were what were supposed to be sprinkles and icing sugar. The sprinkles and icing sugar were made of horribly cut colored paper, and they looked like they were on the brink of dropping off because of the faulty glue gun job that was barely keeping the whole costume together. You had your purple Dora backpack in your right hand and your left hand was lifted up, about to knock on a wooden birch door with the placard “Class 1C” right in the center of the door.

Oh, no. Oh, no no. Present Y/N knew what was coming. You hated this moment so, so, much, because you knew what was behind that innocent-looking door. Out of all things, did I really have to dream about the most humiliating moment of my life?

Young Y/N finally knocked with all her strength on the wooden door, and a young adult wearing a witch hat that did not match her professional blazer and work skirt opened the door.

“Hello, dear! You must be Y/N L/N, our new student! I see you that you must’ve got the memo to dress up. I love your costume. My name is Ms. Kim. Do come inside!” Ms. Kim flashed an exaggerated smile, and gestured for you to come in.

Your younger self was very oblivious to the fact that Ms. Kim did not like your costume one bit just based on her fake smile and the giggle she tried to hide. Nonetheless, you confidently strutted in the decorated classroom, unaware that your sprinkles and iced sugar pieces were starting to fall off, leaving a trail of cut colored paper from the door to where you now stood, which was in the center of the classroom.

A few classmates had already started to snicker, proudly pointing their stubby fingers at the trail of papers, and the brown sphere you were wearing, then bursting into immature giggles. However, you continued to lift your head up high.

“Class, class, settle down. We have a new student. Y/N, do introduce yourself.” Ms. Kim announced. The high-pitched laughter echoing from the audience died down.

“Hello, class of 1C! My name is Y/N L/N, and I am proud to be here today! I will do my best in this class!” You beamed, and the class burst into booming laughter. Chaos erupted, making the giggling just now nothing compared to this event.

Paper balls and pencils were thrown, and the monstrous classmates could no longer keep their childish giggling to themselves.

“She looks like a dirt ball! She looks like a dirt ball!” A loud shout emitted from the back of the class, and soon, everyone else caught on.

“Dirt ball! Dirt ball! Y/N is a dirt ball!” The class hooted, enjoying this Halloween party way more than they should.

Ms. Kim sighed, and looked down at your fragile figure who was on the verge of tears. “Class, if you do not quiet down and respect Y/N, we will cancel this party. All of you can go back to doing your addition and subtraction.”

Immediately, the mean teasing and laughter died down, and you shuffled your way to your assigned seat, leaving a trail of more cut colored paper. Once you put your backpack behind your seat and sat down, you put your head in your arms, not bothering to look at the wavy-haired boy leaning his head on his elbow, smiling innocently at you. Noticing your sad self, he immediately placed it upon himself to cheer you up.

“Hello, you’re Y/N, right? I’m Kai. I really love your costume! Is it a cake pop?”

Kai really did love your costume. He liked the fact that anyone could tell that you had worked so hard to make it. Compared to his target-bought jellyfish costume, it was a piece of majestic art.

You immediately sat up, all signs of sadness gone. You were happy and satisfied that at least one person knew what your costume was. The hard work you spent gluing on the paper and the hard work your mother spent looking for a wire contraction that would fit you had finally been paid off.

“Yes! It’s a cake pop. I love your jellyfish costume too!” You smiled, revealing one of your missing front teeth.

“Nah, my costume isn’t as good as yours. I'm sorry if the class was so mean to you, I think your outfit looked great. In fact, my mom is having a small Halloween gathering this week, would you want to come? There will be lots of food, and I got my dad to build…”

At this exact moment, your past self realized that you liked this boy. You didn’t care if you married him, or if you just stayed friends, you wanted to be with him through thick and thin. For your present self, this just proved that you loved him more than he would ever know.

October 31 2020 | 10.35am

“...ding, ding, ding, ding…”

Ughhhh. What is going on with my phone?

“...ding, ding, ding!”

As soon as the ringing from your phone stopped, you immediately dozed back to sleep.

“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding…”

“ARGHHH! Kai, can you please help me check my phone! It's ringing like it's a bomb about to detonate!”

No response.

“Kai? Gyu?”

As you worriedly stood up and glanced around bemusedly, the baby blue hoodie that Kai had carefully draped onto you slid off, and dropped at your feet. You noticed it and picked up the familiar looking sweater.

You suddenly realized that this hoodie belonged to the one and only Kai Kamal Huening, and your heart started pounding when you came to terms with the fact that he had just draped one of his favorite hoodies onto you. You scrunched the sweater up in your hands, and wore it over your graphic pumpkin shirt (which was your “costume”). It smelled exactly like Kai, and with the faint scent of his maple autumn leaf perfume (that he only used in October) wavering in the air, you felt like you were in Kai Heaven.

However, the annoying dings in the background didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon, so you finally addressed the noise by grabbing your phone from your bag on the dining table.

You groaned as your phone screen lit up with an incoming call from Yeonjun.

“Hi, Yeonjun. I don’t think I can come.”

“What, why?” Yeonjun dragged, the ‘y’, sounding like a whining baby. “We’re doing a haunted house. All the cool kids are gonna be there. Are you not a cool kid?”

‘Well, number one, I'm not going cause haunted houses are scary. Number two, I’m not cool Jun, you know that. Number three, Kai and I were supposed to do our yearly tradition, but I fell down this morning. I think we’re going to continue it afterwards, and I don’t think Kai likes parties that much. Speaking of Kai, do you know where him and Beomgyu are? I’m in Gyu’s house by myself right now, and when I woke up they weren’t there anymore, are they with you?”

Yeonjun coughed from the other end of the line and seemed to hesitate before replying. “No, I don’t know where Kai and Beomgyu are. But I think Kai wants to come to the party, he said he would, Y/Nieeeee, please come, it’ll be fun.”

You were about to reconsider your choice and dial Kai asking if he wanted to come, when you heard an oddly familiar high pitched dolphin laughter occurring from the other end of the line, followed by a loud shout of glee.

“Wait, Yeonjun. Isn’t that Kai? Is he with you?”

“No. Kai isn’t with me. I don’t know where he is. I really don’t. I think I saw him yesterday? Uh…”

Yeonjun muted the call and left your curious self waiting on the line.

“Okay, I’m back, sorry, technical problems. But yeah, don’t know where Kai is. Totally don’t know.”

“Yeonjun, I can tell when you’re lying.”

Yeonjun sighed from the other end of the line.

“I’m coming over.” You said, as you ended the call, furious and confused as to why he lied to you about such a trivial matter. At least Kai is safe, you thought to yourself, as you grabbed your bag roughly. You were about to stalk out of the house, when you remembered that you were still wearing Kai’s baby blue hoodie that looked extremely over-sized on you. You considered wearing it to Yeonjun’s house, then decided against the decision in fear that Kai might get the wrong idea.

As best friends, the both of you didn’t exchange much skinship or share many things, so this was your first time wearing Kai’s hoodie. You didn’t want him to find out that you like him, and was planning to keep your sacred secret for as long as you could.

After taking off Kai’s sweater, you folded it into a little bundle and shoved it in your bag, just in case he might want it back at Yeonjun’s house. Finally, you walked out of your house, still curious and disappointed as to why a close friend would lie to you about such a small issue.

11.13am

Instead of going to Yeonjun’s huge house, you were now seated across an anxious, fidgeting Kai, in Magic Island, a homely cafe that the both of you would go every halloween for their special rainbow halloween-themed cupcakes. Kai had requested the both of you to meet at this cafe instead of Yeonjun’s house for who knows what, but surprisingly, you didn’t question his rushed and breathless statement when he called you as you were walking out. In the call, he anxiously explained that he would explain in the cafe, and begged you to not go to Yeonjun’s house. Even though this statement only made you more curious as to what they could and were doing there, you reluctantly obliged and began walking in the opposite direction to Magic Island.

And right now, you were seated on a very comfortable sofa with a witch cushion behind you and a pumpkin-themed cover draped over your seat. Around you, there were assorted forms of Halloween decorations ranging from black and orange themed hanging tinsels to the cafe’s signature baby witch statue that took its place at the shop’s entrance.

There was an awkward silence beginning to form between the both of you, so after glancing at everything else but Kai, you finally tried staring him down as sternly as you could, trying to show that you wanted an explanation.

“Kai, why would Yeonjun lie to me about such a trivial matter? What are you guys hiding from me?”

“No, you don’t understa-“

“I thought friends were supposed to be truthful to each other. Am I not trustworthy? I don’t remember doing anything that broke your trust.” It was getting harder and harder to control the words spouting out of your mouth at this point. You were curious and disappointed, and he had been acting shady recently. Kai has never left you alone so randomly, and to your knowledge, none of your other close friends have ever lied to you about his whereabouts.

“Look, wait! Don’t interrupt me! I can see your eyes getting unnaturally huge, and you only do that when you’re about to interrupt someone. Here, let me cut to the chase, I, uh, we, Beomgyu and I, we were at Yeonjun’s house to help him prepare for the party.”

He is a horrible liar, you thought to yourself. Nevertheless, you let him continue to see what else he could spur up.

“We uh, we went to, his house because he needed help preparing, and you know, Yeonjun’s house is huge, so like, obviously, one person couldn’t just decorate the place himself, plus, we’re helping him for the haunted house too, so uh, we-“

“Kai, you're still not answering my question. If it was nothing, why did Yeonjun lie to me about your whereabouts?” You rebutted, impatient and wanting the answer to your question quickly.

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you. I really can’t keep it anymore. Y/N, the reason why I’ve been acting so shady, was because I was planning a-”

“SURPRISE!” A loud chorused shout echoed from the entrance of the cafe. As you turned back, you saw Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Taehyun strutting in. Yeonjun was holding a few helium balloons with the words “Happy Birthday” and “Merry Christmas” printed on them in jazzy handwriting, and Taehyun was beside him lighting up candles on a cheap walmart chocolate cake that probably tasted like garbage. Beomgyu was trailing behind the two boys with a cheesy smile and jazz hands. Turning back, you glanced at a bemused and shocked Kai, who, seeing that you were staring at him suspiciously, covered his previous expression with a shy giggle and a smile equally as fake as Beomgyu’s.

Taehyun put down the lit up cake on the candy corn colored table and Yeonjun handed you the Target-bought balloons.

“Yeonjun lied about where Kai and I were because he didn’t want to spoil this surprise, right, Yeonjun?” Beomgyu said while maintaining his ear-to-ear smile.

Yeonjun glanced back at Beomgyu, who was still smiling but now with his eyes wide open and blinking rapidly as if he was trying to send morse code. Yeonjun responded with a small smirk and looked back at you. “Yes, we spent the morning at my house buying these things and preparing it for you. It was Kai’s idea, wasn’t it?” Yeonjun winked at Kai and finger gunned him. Wow, Jun, way to be cringey, you thought to yourself.

If this “surprise” were for any other sane person, they would’ve obviously realized that it was some last-minute pull together and would immediately called them out on it. But you, being head-over heels for Kai, felt touched that he had planned a surprise for you (and only you) and completely ignored all the screaming signs that it wasn’t an actual surprise, and then it wasn’t just a surprise for you, but for him too. Nonetheless, Taehyun’s idea of this cover-up was working perfectly and had completely erased all your previous suspicions of what Kai had been doing before.

However, your oblivious self was curious about only one thing. “Hmm, I have to ask about something.”

The four boys started breaking out in cold sweat, but Taehyun kept his cool, and managed to ignore the panic boiling inside. He calmly asked, “What are you curious about?”

“I would like to know why the balloons Yeonjun gave me say ‘Happy Birthday’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ on them, it is certainly not my birthday today and Christmas is in two months.”

In order to break the awkward tension rising up in the room, Beomgyu finally spoke up. “Oh, uh, a-about t-that-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Kai clapped his hands loudly and stood up, “this surprise was made for you to be happy anyway! Do whatever you want with it!” After boldly exclaiming this statement, he turned around and mouthed a word of thanks at his three friends, before turning back to you. You were busy sucking helium from the balloons and did not see the interaction that just went down.

“Kai, can you hear it? I sound like a chipmunk!” You innocently smiled at him and sucked even more air out from the deflating “Merry Christmas” balloon.

Kai felt his heart start beating just a little faster, and he laughed quietly, before walking over to join you in your little helium endeavor.

The three boys saw this as an opportunity to step out, and waved goodbye to a giggling Kai and his future girlfriend. After leaving the cafe, they burst into a fit of laughs and fake gags.

“Nice idea Taehyun, they’re a cute bunch, aren’t they?” Yeonjun giggled as he fist-bumped a Taehyun who was fake gagging.

“Wait till Y/N sees what we have planned for her later, then maybe she won’t act so ‘cute’ anymore.” Taehyun said, laughing as he stared once more through the window of Magic Island at Kai (attempting to) impersonate a gorilla and you in a heap of laughter.

‘Race you to the house! Losers!” Beomgyu teased as the three of them started sprinting back to Yeonjun’s house, where the real party would begin.

5.34pm

You were standing in front of Yeonjun’s house, no, house wasn’t the right word to describe it, it was a huge, tall, extravagant, white mansion. Said white mansion was now decorated with a wide assortment of Halloween decorations that ranged from fake graveyards that were stuck into the soil, live-sized skeletons, realistic looking decapitated heads, and a huge amount of gruesome plastic bones scattered on the entrance of the house. The roof of the mansion had orange lights and actual fire burning, probably to make the illusion of something scary, but you couldn’t point out what that seemed to be.

After the questionable event that occurred in Magic Island Cafe, the both of you decided to continue with the tradition: doing everything on the list from baking ghost cookies, watching Halloween movies together, carving pumpkins (even if they were super mushy this year), and last of all, trying out costumes.

Usually, the both of you would go to the small homely costume store that opened on the other end of town and try out the wackiest costumes, knowing that the both of you weren’t going to wear them out anytime soon. However, today was different. You were now about to face the tons of popular kids at your school, and you were dressed in an orange pumpkin costume and an idiotic pumpkin hat. To be frank, you looked like a cutie, and Kai knew it. He had made you wear this outfit to the party, and he matched with you by wearing the same pumpkin costume, the only difference being that his was black. Obviously, Kai wanted the both of you to match so that you guys could look like a couple, and so everyone would know that you were his. Your oblivious self however, did not comprehend the true intentions of his actions, and could only think about how cute Kai looked in his round black pumpkin costume.

As the both of you admired the scary decorations adorning the entrance of the mansion, and the menacing fire burning on the top, you turned to Kai and smirked. “Wow, Yeonjun and his team really went all out this year, huh?”

“Yeah...I didn’t think it would be this great…” Kai said with his mouth agape, still busy staring at the entire mansion from top to bottom. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting Yeonjun to put in this much time and effort into his little idea, but he was appreciative of his hyung and hoped that everything would go as planned.

Just then, the two enormous doors to the inside of the mansion opened, and someone in wearing a red sweater motioned for the two of you to come inside.

“Kai! I haven’t seen you for so long! Come inside!”

That girl was gorgeous. The epitome of all popular girls.

Kai smiled softly and ran up to her, giving her a warm hug while still wearing his pumpkin costume. At this sight, a tinge of jealousy sparked within you, but you did your best to hide it. Kai and this girl would be cute together, you thought to yourself. Two popular kids, one pretty, one handsome, it's no wonder i'm no match for Kai.

You walked up the steps afterwards and gave her a small nod as a greeting. She stayed at the entrance to greet other guests, but she kept eyeing you for some weird reason.

As you stepped in with Kai, you suddenly stopped in your tracks. Letting him trail in front of you, you awed at your surroundings. Oh my gosh. Even though you had been friends with Yeonjun since middle school, this was your first time visiting his house and you were shocked to say the least. Bright orange and grey fairy lights were placed on the extremely high ceiling of the house, and there was green slime hanging around the huge glass chandelier. The living hall was almost as big as your school cafeteria, with a long glass table at the corner filled with halloween themed snacks. There was a cauldron, an actual cauldron, with gory fruit punch, eyeball cake pops, spider pancakes, and so much more. Any halloween-themed food you named was probably on the table, and if it wasn’t, it could be whipped up within an hour by the private chef on hand.

Just then, Yeonjun came up to you. “So, how is it?”

Trying to hide your amusement and shock unlike Kai, who was hyperventilating over all the decorations and prancing around like a kid with too much candy, you merely responded. “It's okay, I guess.”

“Its okay, IT'S OKAY? Do you know how many days it took for us to make this for you-”

“HEY Y/N! Long time no see!” A hand was placed on Yeonjun’s shoulder, and he was shoved aside abruptly. Replacing him was Soobin.

“Omg! Soobin! It's been a long time. How’s it going?” You squealed, as you embraced the lanky boy.

You hadn’t realized that Kai was missing because you were too busy catching up with Soobin, and your oblivious self didn’t realize the lack of people in Yeonjun’s obnoxious living hall to realize that this was not a normal party.

7.07pm

“Alright, next participants! Kai and Y/N!” The staff at the front-desk of Haunted Matchmakers called out.

The both of you exchanged questioning looks at each other as you felt multiple pairs of eyes drawn to the both of your figures.

“Why were we the only ones that he called out?” You whispered to Kai, not expecting an answer.

“Probably because together, we’re special.” Kai turned his head and winked at you cutely.

Thank goodness the two of you were still in the dark waiting room, so he was unable to see your burning cheeks.

Little did you know, Kai’s cheeks were just as fiery as yours, if not hotter.

“Alright, you ready?” The waiting room assistant asked cheekily, as he shifted his gaze between the both of you, and gestured for the two of you to enter the menacing rusty entrance.

“Yes!” Kai shouted, and pumped his fist into the air.

You, on the other hand, was a scaredy-cat, and without thinking twice, you grasped onto Kai’s hand tightly, and shifted so close to him that both of your shoulders overlapped each other.

Kai could feel your nervousness, and he was nervous too, but for an entire different reason. After you grabbed his hand, his heart started hammering in his chest and his hands started becoming clammy.

Not wanting to waste his time, Kai screamed in glee and nodded at the assistant, who pushed open the rusty wooden door. He was about to walk in while still holding your hand, when he realized that you weren’t budging.

Kai was afraid that you were going to back out of the haunted house, and as he glanced back, he was met with a teary-eyed you, shivering and trying to wipe your stubborn tears with the sleeve of your pumpkin costume.

“Hey, Y/N, what's wrong?” Kai immediately crouched in front of you so that the both of you are at eye level. land you sniffle even more.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Y/N. I know you’re scared, but it’s alright. I’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?” Kai coaxed, running his thumb over your intertwined hands.

You looked up at Kai with your watery eyes, and nodded ever so slightly. Kai swore his heart could’ve melted right there and then.

Just then, you realized that there were people lining up behind you. The people, who, surprisingly, were patiently waiting as you and Kai shared your cheesy moment. Realizing that you were being an inconvenience for their halloween experience, you straightened up, fixed your fallen hair, and nodded at Kai as firmly as you possibly could.

With the rusty door ajar, the both of you confidently stepped inside. Your hand was engulfed in Kai’s, and as long as you were with him, the both of you would be able to get through anything together.

7.34pm

Take deep breaths. In, out, in out. Hee, hoo, hee, hoo. Y/N, you can do this. They’re just humans dressed in manufactured plastic, with a face full of over-the-top makeup. Remember what you said before, just now? When you’re with Kai, you can get through anythi-

“AHHHHHHHH!”

Your thoughts were interrupted by yet another piercing dolphin scream from the two of you after being jump-scared by the long-haired lady with a bad case of smallpox.

You had initially thought that Kai was the brave one here, but now that the both of you were finally experiencing the actual haunted house, you couldn’t decide who was more of the scaredy-cat.

Kai had already known about this plan and played the biggest part in the creation of Haunted Matchmakers. However, he was still scared because...well….it was you he was going to surprise...and, he’s still a baby at heart.

“Kai, I don’t think I can do this. I wanna go back to the entrance.” Your shaky voice shook him out of his thoughts.

“No, no, it's okay! We just finished the third room! We’re almost there! There’s only one more room left.”

“Wait...how do you know the amount of rooms this haunted house has?” Finally, your oblivious self had started to pick up on Kai’s many mishaps.

“Well, I, uh, I, I asked the admin staff when you went to the bathroom!” Kai exclaimed.

Suddenly, you realized that it was quiet. Too quiet. The eeriness was scaring you. There was no more haunted house music, no jump-scares, nobody else with the both of you.

You shakily clung onto Kai, hooking both of your arms between one of his and pressing your cheek into his neck.

“Kai, it doesn’t feel right. This place doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean? Of course it doesn’t feel right, we’re in a haunted house!”

“No...I mean, like, it doesn’t even feel like a haunted house anymore, it feels like something is…” You trailed off on your speech as you spotted a small Polaroid of a selfie of you and Kai taken many moons ago at Soobin’s birthday party.

When you were too busy stuck in your place as you tried processing what a picture of the both of you was doing on the wall of a haunted house, Kai had disappeared. He was there for a second, and suddenly, your arms were clinging onto nothing but air.

“Kai? Kai? Kai?! Don’t scare me like this! You know I hate jump-scares! You promised me that you would be with me every step of the way! Kai, stop playing around! This isn’t funny anymore!” Tears were threatening to fall out of your eyes, and you started rapidly blinking and looking back and forth to see if Kai would be hiding behind a statue or corner just to scare you.

But no, he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.

Back in the control room, Kai frantically paced back and forth as Yeonjun stared through the screen at you, who was crouched down and silently sobbing. The sniffles you tried to hide echoed through the corridor, and Yeonjun knew that doing nothing wasn’t going to help.

Grabbing the walkie-talkie from the girl with the red sweater, who was sitting next to him looking at other screens on an armchair while mindlessly fiddling with said walkie-talkie in her hands, he turned the knob to channel 5 and spoke into it rapidly.

“Haeun, plan B. Get back inside to corridor 2, where Y/N is, and lead her to the beginning of the trail. This surprise won’t work if Y/N doesn’t start moving.”

7.42pm

You were sitting down on the ground, head in your arms, sobbing aimlessly as you thought to yourself. What kind of sick joke is this? Why isn’t anyone coming to scare me? Where did Kai go, why did he just leave with no explanation? Shouldn't someone come now to tell me to stand up and move on so that they can keep the line going?

Speak of the devil, you felt a light pat on the shoulder. Thinking that it was staff, you looked up to be met with a gory, bloody, devil mask. Squealing and screaming, you started running away, pushing off the hands that landed on your shoulders. Suddenly, said mask was removed, and you were met with a very familiar face. Haeun? Lee Haeun?

Lee Haeun was a close friend you met outside of school in a theme park when you were by yourself. She wasn’t close to anyone here, and she was one of the last people you expected to show up here.

“Hey, Y/N! Surprise, surprise, I'm here! Sorry for scaring you, I forgot to remove my mask!’”

“Lee Haeun...what are you doing here? Wha-”

“I’ll explain later, for now, just keep moving forward. Promise you, there’ll be no jumpscares, no nothing. Just lots of love.” She winked at you, and she had pushed you forward without you noticing, so now you were standing in front of a closed door that had a purple letter stuck onto it.

“Open it,” Haeun gestured, and pat your back twice before leaving.

“What…?” Nonetheless, you listened to her, and grabbed the folded purple letter, carefully unfolding it to reveal Kai’s handwriting:

Dear sweet Y/N,

Hi, this is Kai. I have a feeling that you’re going to be really shocked and surprised right now. ‘What? This is a haunted house, why is a letter here? Also, where is Kai? I'm gonna slap that son of a…’, anyways, yes, I know that’s what you’re thinking right now, but trust me, it’ll all make sense as soon as you walk through this door. If you thought that I disappeared into thin air, don’t worry. I’m in a control room, and I can see you right now.

Upon reading this sentence, you looked around frantically and spotted a small camera with a red blinking light. You cheekily waved at it before looking back at the letter.

About this whole event...well...firstly, if you couldn’t tell already, this haunted house isn’t real. We set it up, yes, Y/N, and if you’re here reading this, that means everything is going to plan. I knew your oblivious self wouldn’t find out ehehe! However, I couldn’t have done this large-scale event myself, you see, I only have four close friends: Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu, and Taehyun, and all of them helped me out on this large-scale project. No, Y/N, I didn’t forget about you (I can practically read your thoughts right now!). You see Y/N, we’re not friends, you’re not my best friend, you’re my..ne. You’re myne. You’re mine. Ugh, I’m going to shut up now. Open the door and see for yourself, beautiful Y/N.

Lots, and lots, and lots of love,

Kai ;)

You were appalled and bashful to say the least. Wait, this can’t be? This isn’t, this isn’t what I think it is. No way. He also just called me beautiful. Me, beautiful?

For your information, Y/N, you are beautiful. You’re gorgeous, more gorgeous than that girl in red, or whatever.

You carefully folded the letter and put it in the pocket of your costume, and nervously pushed open the door to reveal...Soobin.

Oh, Soobin. What’s he doing here?

Soobin was mischievously smiling at you, while gesturing with his hands to literally everything else besides him.

Only when you stopped open-mouthed gaping at the boy, you looked around and realized the wallpaper was...interesting. There were zillions of pictures of you and Kai, all from when you met, to just 3 days ago, glued to all 4 sides of the room, covering basically every spot of the wall until you couldn't even tell the color of the room itself. Cute little pumpkin fairy lights were hung, giving the room a warm orange glow. Soft and calming Halloween decorations and statues were situated around, and you spotted the same little witch statue as the one in the entrance of Magic Island Cafe. Wow, Kai, has really been focusing on his symbolism lessons in english class.

You walked every inch of the room, and you realized that all of the pictures on the left were when the both of you first met, and as they continued on to the right, the pictures taken became more and more recent, and at the end of the room were pictures of the both of you just this year.

Soobin snapped you out of your little room tour when he walked to the side of a brown cauldron, grimaced at it, and turned back to you with a plastic smile.

“Uh, stick your hand in it.”

You tilted your head in confusion as you went over to where he was and looked over the eerie looking cauldron. It was glowing, and was neon green. You were half expecting something to pop out to scare you. You turned back to Soobin.

“No.”

“Come, on! It's part of the process, ya know? To get things rolling.”

‘What, that's not a valid reason for me to stick my hand into something so gross. What am I gonna get out of it?”

Soobin smirked. “You'll get Kai’s love.”

As you felt a blush tinting the apple of your cheeks, you immediately stuck your hand into what you thought was liquid. It was definitely not green-colored water, it was green-colored Jello. You felt a hard plate, and was about to remove your hand from the gruesome, slimy solid, when Soobin wrapped his fingers around your arm and gestured for you to lift whatever you had grabbed.

What you pulled up was not a plate, it was a picture frame. Inside said picture frame was a photo of a memory you wanted to forget forever. It was a picture of you and Kai, you in your hideous cake pop costume and Kai in his cute colorful jellyfish costume. The picture was taken by the both of your moms after the first day of school. Your mother, seeing that you had only made one friend, wanted to cherish the sacred moment. In said photo, both of your arms were slung over each other and your heads were leaning against each other. Kai had a crooked smile on his face, and you were happy as you could ever be.

On the frame were 4 words written in Kai’s writing with a sharpie. Said four words were enough to make you tear up.

“My Little Dirt Ball.”

Soobin, noticing your entranced state, tapped your shoulder.

“Flip to the back of the frame.”

Behind the picture frame was a sticky note attached. You plucked it off the back and squinted your eyes to read the small print.

Hey Y/N, I know you hate that picture, but it's my favorite, because the picture was taken on the day I met you. To continue our journey together, pull the back frame open, and insert the key inside to the orange door. Thank you, Y/N. Like I said earlier, we’ll get through this together, and I’ll see you on the other side.

Impatient to see Kai, you quickly, but carefully, pulled open the back frame, revealing a golden key. After grabbing the key and firmly wrapping your palm around it, you ran to the orange door and with shaky hands, inserted the key and twisted it. The door immediately swung open.

Behind the ajar door was a nervous Kai, still blessed with the same crooked smile as all those years ago. He was still rocking the same black pumpkin costume, and you were too mesmerized by his beauty to notice everyone else around him.

Soobin entered after you, and guided you to be right iinfront of Kai. You were now right in front of him, looking at his eyes, his gorgeous eyes, his presence, just, being with Kai. You couldn’t believe it. Your crush for almost a decade just confessed to you, in the most extra way possible. You loved it.

You looked up to see a huge banner that read: Y/N L/N, will you be myne?Around Kai was all your friends, all from different places:. Yeonjun and the gang, joined by Soobin, Haeun and your girls’ clique, the emo dude that you’re really chill with, the list goes on and on.

A beautiful voice broke you out from dreamland, to enter into yet another one.

“Y/N, will you be mine?”

You looked back at the boy you loved, and ran forward, practically throwing yourself onto him. You smashed your lips onto his, not caring that all of your friends were watching.

Kai was shocked at your sudden bold action, but quickly pulled himself together and kissed you back.

If you could describe the best feeling in the world, it was this. Fireworks erupted in your head, and all you could think about was those soft, plump lips and the boy who owned them. Kai put his arm around your waist, and the other behind your head, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You were doing it. You really were. You were kissing Kai Kamal Huening. In front of everyone, and you didn’t care.

It’s childish, one could say, to see two people dressed in child-like costumes practically making out with each other. However, in your opinion, that was what your love was. It was extra, childish, weird, and unlike any other typical highschooler’s romantic relationship. You wouldn’t change it for anything else.

BONUS

After the extremely extra confession took place successfully, the real Halloween party could finally commence. After all, Yeonjun hadn’t decorated his place for nothing. There was now an assortment of alcohol displayed everywhere, and suddenly the huge living hall didn’t seem so big anymore, as there were people from all over the town invited and it was getting quite cramped. Yeonjun, however, didn’t fail to notice the two of you at a small carpeted corner, just chatting. You had changed out of your pumpkin costume, and was now wearing Kai’s baby blue hoodie. Both of your hands were intertwined in his and they were being swung back and forth as you giggled about an inside joke that no one else would ever understand.

As Yeonjun quietly observed the two new lovebirds, a red object appeared in his peripheral vision. Looking down, he sighed in content. Her again.

“Yeonjun! Success, right? I knew we could do it!” She was crouching down, cutely looking at him in his eyes. She took his hand and smashed it against hers trying to imitate a high 5, while giving him a gleaming, enthusiastic smile. Yeonjun lifted the corners of his lips slightly, and squeezed her into a tight hug, earning a shocked gasp from her as she put her arms around his neck.

Choi Yeonjun better start planning out his confession soon.

click here to return this book back to the library.

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nutty1005 · 4 years ago

Text

Marvelous City – Chongqing Special

Video Link: https://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XNTA2NzMzODYxNg==.html

Translator’s Note: This is translated off the Marvelous City - Chongqing Special Episode. I wrote it in an article form because of video copyrights issues. This documentary was filmed early 2020, but only aired recently. Xiao Zhan’s episode aired on 12 Jan, this special episode aired on 17 Jan.

Q: What difference do you feel returning to Chongqing this time round?

A: Actually for all my years, I’ve never seriously experienced Chongqing like this. Because when you’re living within it, you will not jump to an outsider’s point of view and deliberately observe places, scenery and food. I grew up with Chongqing and it’s melded within me, hence this time I came back, including the air raid shelters, the local delicacies, or the Xiao Mian, I have a new understanding and knowledge of them. The feeling in my heart is different as well.

Q: What are your biggest takeaway from this visit?

A: As a Chongqinger who has grown up and lived twenty odd years in Chongqing, I realized my understanding of the air raids shelters, I originally thought they were just shelters. But after my discussion with Mr. Xiang, I discovered that there were many stories regarding them. Yesterday, he spoke of an example, an elder he interviewed, and that elder told him that during those years, once there was an alarm, he was actually secretly happy. He would watch for the shelter the lady he liked ran into, and he would follow that lady to that shelter. So you see, it’s that sort of finding joy in their chaotic lives. I feel that that is, very accurately, the description of Chongqingers’ optimism. But actually, it’s easy to say that we would feel like that – since we have to live every day, living a day happily versus living a day miserably, why should we not live happily. But few are able to do that, moreover in such a chaotic environment. So when he told me those stories yesterday, I felt especially touched. I was quite moved, actually.

Q: How was the experience when you previously rode the light rail?

A: The line for Niujiaotuo was especially interesting. To walk from Rail Line 3 to Rail Line 2, it took 15 minutes. If the person in front of you walked especially slowly, plus everyone was going to work in the morning, it’s just shoulder to shoulder crowded. Basically, even if you wanted to run, you couldn’t, you could only push your way through and then run forward. That period was especially weird. I was thinking, why weren’t these ladies and gentlemen in a hurry, then I’d be “excuse me excuse me”, push through them and run forward, then start queuing.

Rail Line 2 would come, because it was suspended between bridges, when the glass door opens you’d have to squeeze your way in, and there would be some situations, like some people with their bags stuck outside, their slipper stuck outside, and then all kinds of stuff, sometimes even their breakfast would be stuck outside. Then there’s like burst soy bean drinks, there’s a lot of situations like this, and actually below Rail Line 2, there was a huge safety net. The net was there because they were afraid of falling objects from great heights, and these might fall and hit someone below. So sometimes, well sometimes in the summer, I would see that there’s some ridiculous things piling on the net, someone’s slipper, belt, bag or umbrella, etc. I don’t know if it’s still there, I guess they would clean it regularly. But I felt that this was especially funny, funny and sad at the same time. I mean who would want to squeeze with people early in the morning, you’d be squeezed half dead, everyone would be angry, and you’d argue in the morning.

But you couldn’t help it, it’s for livelihood, hence that time when I saw that there were many reports saying “it’s so tough, this year is so tough on me”, but then I also felt that actually everyone had it tough. I feel that everyone is moving forward while trying to live, actually we’re like a battalion, and we are all being pushed forward by our lives. We’re already at 2020 and every single day before was tough, it’s all tough, so I feel that we just have to manage and adjust. I feel that our attitudes need to be managed well.

I remember that time, I was squeezed so badly that I was plastered onto the glass door. That glass door, I was literally stuck onto it, and then when I looked down at the Jialing River, because the Rail Line 2 was suspended over it, I just looked at the Jialing River below and thought, actually that scenery was rather pretty. So, I’d just watch the scenery, and when you start to carefully observe, you would feel that it’s actually quite beautiful. In the mornings, there would be elders swimming in the winter, and then there’d be some reefs, because I recall that it’d be dry season during the winter, the water levels would go down and hence the waters would also become somewhat clearer. Jialing River, with those oddly shaped reefs, and then there was all kinds of people fishing, jogging alongside. What also attracted me was the windows, they looked like film, frame by frame, and the windows on the light rail were also frame by frame. And then after night falls, because the light rail was built along the river, the night view by the river, those lights and those skyscrapers would be varicolored, just like a movie.

Q: What do you like about Chongqing?

A: I like its summer and I also like its winter. There’s two sensations, the summer’s passionate like fire, whereas the winter, and you’d feel that the chill seeps into your bones, just you’d feel hurt magically. Hotpot, Xiao Mian, spicy diced chicken, peppercorn chicken, there’s too many of them, I love them all. Double-cooked pork… I feel that these food are something engraved in your bones since childhood. When you mention those food, your mouth instinctively salivates. I already have the taste of peppercorn chicken in my mouth, it’s strange, but I haven’t had peppercorn chicken for a very long time, but now I am just… *swallows saliva*

Q: What is the Chongqing delicacy of your heart?

A: There’s no need to say. I used to go to this noodle stall in the past. It didn’t have a name, it’s just an aunty, and that aunty is especially nice. Because every time I went there I would tell her, aunty, for example I wanted to eat wontons, we call them Chao Shou, I’d say, “Aunty I want less wontons more vegetables”, and then the aunty would put in a lot of vegetables, but she didn’t really remove that many wontons. Every time I went there I don’t have to give her my order, I’d say “the same old”, and she’d know exactly what to make, just put more vegetables inside. So sometimes, I’d just watch her cook, and while watching her busy around, you’d feel especially warm in your heart. It’s just a stall, but every neighbor would be eating there, and they’d be eating there for decades, their children and even grand children would be eating there as well. Slowly, the stall would became a part of their emotional support, like maybe I won’t eat this noodles today, or perhaps she didn’t open today, it would became a kind of concern for that person. Eventually, it’s no longer a matter of a bowl of Xiao Mian, but a habit of life, an emotional interaction. I feel that this is the power of Chongqing delicacies in my heart.

Q: How was your childhood like?

Actually when you talk about my childhood, I really liked the environment I lived in when I was really young. Sometimes I would dream and I often dreamed of that period. When I was young, the early 90s era, multimedia wasn’t as advanced, there were no mobile phones or computers. There were probably arcade centers during that period of time, those that you needed to slot in coins, but children weren’t allowed to go, we had to sneak in. But mostly, it was our neighbors.

As a child, once we finish our homework, we could go downstairs and yell out “So-and-so, come down quickly”, and with a whoosh, all the children in the district would come down. Everyone would play hide-and-seek and then beanbag toss (TN: similar to cornhole), just all kinds of board games, any sort will do. All of these games are interactive. I still remember the shop on the first floor downstairs from my home, he modified the shop to become a snack stop, and all of the kids would buy snacks from him. I remember that real fresh milk was delivered on a bicycle, everyday freshly squeezed, and we would collect from him using our own bags or buckets. It’s just especially down-to-earth. I remember that time at around 5pm or 6pm,you’d hear yelling, as in that sort “selling milk” (TN: in Chongqing accent) and those fat sausages. Over there, fat sausages (TN: in Chongqing accent), all these kinds of finger food, you know? Wow, I miss those days.

And during that period, the smells of cooking would fill up the entire district, whether by mothers or grandmothers, they’d be cooking and the whole district would permeate with delicious smells. It was just especially wonderful, I feel that that period was really down-to-earth, everyone was especially vivid. Actually, I feel that our lives now are a bit cold, just a bit cold. Then, we would know all of our neighbors, but now, I doubt that we understand our neighbors well.

Q: What do you think of the phrase “pa erduo”? (TN: henpecked, literally means to be pulled by the ear)

Pa erduo (TN: In Chongqing accent), it means that the person’s ear is especially soft. It used to mean that the man is some kind of a loser, but I feel that now, this phrase is adorable. I feel that it’s a compliment, it means that Chongqing men treat their wives well, it’s a display of love for their wives, so I feel that it’s adorable. When I’m out, I am upright and indomitable, I can be your pillar of support, but when I’m back home, I will dote on you fully. I feel that it’s especially good, my father is like this. My father is especially cute sometimes, oh dear, I’m going to betray my father. He is especially cute, he would often tell my mother to let him maintain some dignity when they’re out, just especially cute. I feel that as a couple, they are quite good, just very standard, in my eyes, they are the standard Chongqing couple. Because actually my mother doesn’t talk a lot outside, she listens to whatever my father says, but once we are back home, my dad will give in to my mother most of the time.

Q: What is your relationship with your hometown?

To me, I feel that I am just very proud of her, she’s my pride. Maybe there are some youths, actually I was the same when I was a teenager, I thought about whether I should leave Chongqing to a bigger city. At that time, everyone was talking about Bei-Shang-Guang (TN: Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou), and I thought about whether I wanted to take a look there, for example design, obviously Bei-Shang-Guang is the forefront of China, spearheading. I thought about it as well, whether I should go and take a look, but when I was studying in the university, and then after I graduated, to me, I was slowly adjusting to the life in Chongqing, so I feel this differs from person to person. Hence at that time I felt that it was also quite fine remaining in Chongqing. If I can’t attain a top leader position outside, or become a highflier, then why shouldn’t I just stay grounded and do well in my own hometown? Actually those were my thoughts at that time, but as fate has it, I still left Chongqing. So I feel this is really just fate, just something mysterious. Now that there’s so much skyscrapers in Chongqing, so many office buildings, so many of them graded 5A, there are so many youths working in there, fighting for their dreams. There may be some people who doesn’t like it, some may be forced to work by their families, or the job was found for them by a relative, but I believe that most youths have an ambitious heart, and they want to fulfill the dreams they had when they were studying, their endeavors, and they are just fighting for their ideals. I feel that every city has its own charm, and Chongqing charm lies in the fact that it’s vivid. It’s very lively, it’s a young city, and everyone is fighting, for their lives, for their ambitions. She is a very lively city.

Q: Do you think you have the tenacity of a Chongqinger?

A: Very tenacious. I feel that I am a very tenacious person. Just when I encounter things, like I’ve lived in Chongqing for 23 years, well-adjusted to the living and working environment of Chongqing, and then suddenly I went to Beijing, to the entertainment business. It’s just worlds apart, two entirely different living environments. And truth be told, that period of time was quite tough. Whether it was singing, dancing or acting, to me those were all brand new things, but at that time I felt, since I’m already here, then I must do it well with all of my efforts. No matter how tough or how difficult, those were my choices, even if I had to crawl I had to finish the journey, that’s how I felt.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

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soulwillower · 4 years ago

Text

buttercup • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: Would you mind writing a Richie Tozier X reader soulmate AU where Richie is VERY self conscious and he finds out that the reader is his soulmate and the reader is well known and very pretty, so he’s just like djjdjfgjjcbvnfnf but once they actually meet she really likes him? :0 thanks if you consider!

warning: swearing, angst, richie being edgy and also a bit unstable (king shit), neuroatypical richie!!!, fluff, soulmate au!! <33 also sorry this may be rough, i havent edited it at all

[reader + losers are in college]

lmk what u guys think of this one,... idk LOL

4.1k words

♡

richie was about to be sick. yes, he really, really was going to vomit in approximately ten seconds and he didn’t know what he was going to do. the room, full of barely-adults chugging jungle juice was sweaty and bustling and the walls were closing in on him quick. those people who weren't in the main rooms were doing sniff in the bathrooms and blocking his pathway to heaven (the toilet) so he quickly stumbles towards the sliding-glass door.

he passes a guy who claps his shoulder and says in a deep voice, "you good, bro?"

no, no. he's not good, bro. thanks for asking, though.

as he finally breaks free of the plastic, out of the crusty balloon that was holding his body hostage, he takes a deep breath and sprawls himself on the back deck, staring up at the clouds in the nighttime sky. maybe he should go home and mull this over, before he crams it down his own throat and chokes to death, alone and broken on the back deck of a 22 year old business major's rental house.

he laughs to himself - an image which he's sure would be a full on maniacal scene to an onlooker - as he lights a cigarette with very shaky fingers. even if he chooses to give this situation some thought, he will end up being forced regardless because this is, quite literally, richard tozier's destiny.

y/n y/l/n is richie's destiny, and it makes him feel like complete shit.

you see - his whole life, richie knew about the fucking soulmate tattoos. of course he did, everybody did - it was, like, one of the first things you learn, ever. he knows that there's basically a soulmate for every person and often times the soulmate marks were different, the ways of finding your soulmate were wide and far.

for most of richie's life - actually, almost all of it up until the last month - he'd had a big, fat 0 tattooed on his arm and below it a humiliating phrase that was quite the epitome of richie himself.

yet it never changed, which led him, his friends, and his parents to determine that he'd gotten a time-counter soulmate mark, which he likes to pride himself on believing he did not give a single fuck about.

the number is supposed to count the amount of time that you've spent with your soulmate, and there's usually a sentence or phrase that's associated with your soulmate's first thoughts of you below it. and yeah, of course the first thing the lucky guy or gal thought of richie is 'wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.' pretty fucking on-brand, if richie says so himself.

so yeah, he never really paid attention to his soulmate mark - partly because the thought of emotionally opening up to someone enough for them to know his whole and true self was repulsive and terrifying enough to make him physically ill, enough for him to develop a crazy sense of humor as a less-than proficient coping mechanism for the insecurity and fear that lives in his mind rent-free, 24/7 365. but mostly he didn't pay attention to the mark because, you know, he thought it was lame.

that is, until it changed from the 0.

it happened on the first day of classes fall semester of this, his freshman year of college.

which, honestly, was a huge fucking bummer, because he literally came into contact with almost 800 new people that first day through classes, dorms, walking around campus, and the dining hall. and yet, as he got back to his dorm and smoked a bowl with bill, he'd noticed that his arm had said 00:51:26.

bill had been so excited he'd almost lifted richie through the roof, because 'holy sh-shit, rich, y-you did it!'

it was hard to believe someone was out there for him, though. and yeah, he didn't give a fuck about it, but he also kind of did.

richie, now thinking back on that day, groans a bit. if he'd just known, if he had just fucking looked at the thigh of the girl in front of him with the soft-looking grin and the alluring scent of orange creamsicle shampoo, who'd smiled a bit when he borrowed a pen - if he'd just known then that y/n was meant to spend the rest of her life with him, he could've... well, he's not really sure what he could have done.

he thinks to that moment in time, as he was blowing smoke out the dorm window with bill and giggling as he ate an entire bag of cheez-its, and how much he wanted to know who it was back then.

but tonight, it had become a nightmare when the information practically fell into his lap. he's at this house party in late september, and about five minutes ago it was just boring enough to warrant sitting on the rug in the living room and just fun enough to actually stay.

“-yeah, she said the first time you guys met was in microeconomics, right?” ben says, and richie huffs in agreement as he picks at the skin on his nails. ben was talking about her again, and richie's heart was beating stupidly hard. y/n, one of his closest friends that he'd made outside of the losers, never failed to make his heart run a goddamn marathon.

“-she told me the first thing she noticed was that you were wearing socks with sandals. and she thought that your socks were really ugly.” he finishes with a laugh and richie’s head snaps up at that. he feels chills spill over back as if he’d been doused with ice water and he gapes at ben. “wait, what?” richie shudders, the words escaping his lips quietly enough that his friends mistake it for a forceful exhale brought on by offense at the word 'ugly.'

“well she was right to think that.” stan says from behind his solo cup, carefree, as if richie’s life wasn’t crashing to an alarming and unbelievable halt. eddie giggles faintly somewhere from the floor where the losers are sitting, but richie’s mind is reeling too much for him to react to or even comprehend anything.

“rich, i th-thought i got you to st-stop wearing socks and sandals so long ago.” bill adds, laughing into his hand. but richie’s barely registering any other fucking information because he’s staring at ben, who is finally noticing his friend’s perplexed face. “you good, rich?” ben asks carefully.

“wh-er, wait. what exactly did she say?” richie asks, really not wanting to know the answer and yet wanting to know more than life itself. it can't be her. he’s getting odd looks from everyone now, but he's starting to breathe quickly and he thinks he might vomit. he kind of regrets never showing anybody but big bill his soulmate mark, because he's suffocating right now in embarrassment and bill is a little too drunk to assume what richie's assuming right now.

“wait, y/n y/l/n, right? from my dorm. she’s here tonight, she told me- oh, y/n!” stan calls, looking directly over richie’s shoulder. it happens so fast. y/n, in the flesh, walks past at just that moment, breaking out into a breath-taking, world-halting smile. richie's chest hurts worse than it ever has before as she waves and bustles over to plop herself next to richie. and holy shit, she's wearing shorts because even though it's cold out, the house is warm and richie can see dark ink on her thigh. a soulmate tattoo. he can't draw his eyes away even though his brain is screaming to knock it off because there's going to be something there he doesn't want to accept, but he then does it anyways.

he almost hyperventilates as he reads the words emblazoned on her thigh,

27:36:08 and right below it: "holy hell her hair smells like orange creamsicle"

he almost sobs right then and there as she greets him with a soft hand on his shoulder, completely unaware of their fate and richie has to stand up abruptly because he can literally feel the numbers changing on his arm as the seconds go by with y/n at his side.

and now, mere minutes later he's out here, laying in self pity as anxiety claws at every inch of his body and fear tingles on him like the slight presence of snowflakes falling on his skin - briefly he wonders if, as an older man, he'll wonder how he never got cold wearing nothing, vulnerable as he welcomes in that falling snow.

he would be totally daft not to wonder how he ended up with a soulmate like her, someone not only so fucking attractive but so kind and undeserving of a monstrosity of a human like him. she is, in every place he isn't, a complete and utter success of a person; he's a hurricane where she's whitecaps in the sea, he's loud and abrupt while she is kind and outgoing. maybe they do work well together, hell - they spend enough time on study dates outside of class for him to know that he does really like her. but richie also knows his standoffish, happy-go-lucky and untamed personality paired with his unwillingness to make himself appear vulnerable to most people will probably have a very large impact on... whatever it is that happens with y/n.

because that's really the point, isn't it?

she is stuck with him. bucky beaver, the trashmouth, mr. i-can't-keep-my-trap-shut-for-three-seconds. y/n, the most incredible person in this world, is the kind of person that was designed for richie to admire from afar, as he is so willing to suffer through. because as much as it hurts to watch her and to love her without loving her, it is a thousand times safer for both of them than the inevitable look of disappointment that will befall y/n’s angelic features when she discovers who her burden of a soulmate is.

the thought makes richie choke out a weak sob, sitting up and digging the heel of his palms into his sockets, trying to scrub out the image of himself from his brain. awful, awful, bad.

he takes a long drag from his cigarette and for a brief moment he wonders if, just maybe, she’ll love him back eventually. the thought makes him feel like crying all over again.

huge nose, big teeth, awkwardly skinny and too tall. maybe he's got nice hair, but he sometimes wakes up too late and can only brush his teeth and swipe on deodorant before he's sprinting out his dorm with his pickle socks and stan's old sandals, trudging to class and getting in the way of y/n's future.

but he is her future, after all - how can that be right?

he doesn't have enough time to take another drag from his cig as he hears the glass door open, the noise from the party bursting through the gap in the foundation of the house and sending him back to five minutes, ago, inside. he cranes his neck and can't bring himself to be surprised when he sees her, backlit from the party inside and figure in his mind standing like the only being in the world.

she thinks he looks devastatingly beautiful tonight. she loves the awkwardness in his bones, the way he carries himself with confidence although she's not sure he always really has it. he's wearing some dumb socks again as usual, though they're mostly covered by his black pants and red high-tops this time. it makes her smile softly.

she wants to know him, really know him, as more than just a classmate, a crush, a boy who's friends with stan uris from the floor above her own room. she wants to feel his large hands on her in more than just fleeting greetings, knucks to the shoulder or jaw. she wants the sharp taste of nicotine and mint from those life savers he was always sucking on in her own mouth as he holds her tightly against him, she wants to know everything about him and be with him, even if they aren't somehow destined to be forever. which, she thinks with an array of wild animals tumbling around her chest, they might be.

after all, someone at this party is her soulmate, and she's almost 99.8% sure it's richie. it gives her the most beautiful butterflies she's ever had, even when he stares at her from the deck with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"what’s up, buttercup?” is all she says, in her mind because he's stunned her to near-silence once again by just existing, and in his mind because she is the most perfect being.

he doesn't respond despite being completely charmed by her, because he's breathing in the nicotine and its making his fingers twitch and even though he's sober by now, he thinks he may be tweaking a bit, mostly from the overwhelming set of information that just smacked into his face when y/n walked over into that room.

he watches as suddenly she's dropping herself so she's sat next to him, her legs swinging off the edge of the deck. she eyes his cigarette. "that's so unhealthy, rich." she says softly, teasing but with a lacing of truth behind it that really makes richie itch to never smoke ever again in his life. but he's a stubborn ass, so he instead takes a deeper drag, maintaining eye contact. he can feel one tear slip from his eye and he feels so fucking melodramatic as he does so, but he's at the lowest he's been in a while, so he gives himself a bit of credit.

she reaches out and pulls the cigarette directly from between his lips, sending him a pointed look as she presses it out on the finished wood of the deck. he wipes the tear away when she's not looking. and as she turns back he smirks, unsure what else to do, as he blows the smoke out of his mouth towards her face.

"hi, toots." he says in what he hopes is a normal tone, despite his blotchy and tear-trailed face. she blinks her eyes owlishly at him but just shrugs, "you left a little prematurely back there. what, do i smell that bad?" she jokes. no, he thinks, you smell like orange creamsicles.

it's bittersweet, the irony in her statement. because he knows that she probably knows what she smells like every day, as it's literally tattooed right on the meat of her leg, on display for her and whoever else lucky enough to find themselves being acquainted with the skin of her upper thigh. the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

maybe if he were feeling a little less in-the-dumps, a little less like a complete and utter disappointment and failure that ruined this sweet girl's life, he would have ribbed her back a bit. you know, grind her gears in typical tozier fashion.

but he's exhausted and so distraught that he can't bring himself to even look at her. "i'm not in the mood" he grumbles, his heart pounding. she frowns, tilting her head.

"okay, what's wrong, richie?" she asks, and it's in that caring voice that she uses that isn't pitying but simply solicitous in nature. her calming force on him is obvious and immediate and his teeth stop rattling around in his head

he wants to scream because she's burning warm and perfect while he's frigid cold inside his body; a wasteland full of broken slinkies and half-formulated 'your mom' jokes that are melded to the crust of him with the tar that's been sucked straight from those damn ciggies. for crying out loud, if he were to so much as touch her, she'd get corrupted.

she notices as he scoots a bit away from her, and her heart hurts. he's so upset, clearly, and yet it hurts her that he can't trust himself or her enough to open up; no fault of his own surely, but heartbreaking all the same. "i care about you, and i really want to be here for you." she says it like there's going to be more, but the words kind of die in her throat as she realizes the extend of her words.

holy shit, she thinks, i'd go to the ends of the earth for him. if richie asked me to, i think i'd probably kill the queen.

"i stubbed my toe, and it really hurts." he says then, and the absurdity of his excuse makes her laugh out loud, head tilting back towards the moon as the bubbly giggles tumble from her lips. she looks at him after and his face is a twisted mix of affection and utter pain, a combination that hurts her to her core but lights a fuel in her that makes her want to help him.

"it's true." he mutters, motioning to his shoe limply, and she looks at his foot, the tip of his converse scribbled in sharpie with the word 'half-brain' and then a bunch of hearts.

"i like your socks." she says absentmindedly, grinning at him as she says it, voice teasing. but the reaction she was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as richie suddenly heaves a hiccup-sob, one so upsetting and quiet that she thinks she misheard it.

but he's keeling over and clutching his face with his hands, shaking his head, and her heart breaks. "richie, honey please tell me what's going on. or i can just sit here, if you'd rather-"

her sentence is cut off with richies own rushed words, expelled from his mouth so quickly that it's almost as if they were trying to escape while his lips tried to hold them in.

"-you're going to have to spend the rest of your life trying to force yourself to love me, and that terrifies me.”

as he says it, his stomach twists itself inwards at his admission and he thinks he's going to be sick. he doesn't deserve you, you're going to resent him for it. she's silent for a few moments, and he doesn't dare look anywhere near her as tears trail down his solemn cheekbones and drop onto the black corduroy that wraps around his jittering legs.

"richie, please, what are you trying to say?" she says quietly, sounding scared, nervous, upset... richie did that. it's his fault. he tilts his head back, his brain buzzing in guilt. "fuck," he says, and it comes out broken, "you... i- you're my soulmate." he says, looking down to where his chest rises and falls almost unnaturally, a consequence of muscle memory being tampered with by the lethally college combination of nicotine, alcohol and marijuana on an empty stomach.

earlier he was afraid that if he opened his mouth too wide he would lose control of his tongue and then the words would come out without him wanting them to, but he knows he's basically sober by now, as sober as y/n is next to him - he's just neurotic, but he doesn't want her to know that, because oh god, what if she hated him for it?

she wouldn't, right? isn't she supposed to find a way to love him?

this was a really stupid idea, but in his mind it was one that had to be done. shutting his eyes, he tugs the sleeve of his left arm upwards, taking a shaky breath. again, it's silent as she reads the words written there. wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.

she stares at the words, and the number above it, then she looks at her own thigh, where the exact same number counts on in time with his.

he wastes no time, though: "-don't worry, doll. i've got it figured out, we can just- maybe we can get yours covered and you don't have to think about it anymore. fi-find someone better, like, oh, bill - he'd treat you nice i think. just- we don't have to think about it, i'm sorry." he says in one breath, not looking at her at all.

"richie, how can i be yours if you're not mine?" she says thickly because she's fighting off tears wondering how someone so incredible and full of life could feel so undeserving.

"you can't want me, you can't." he insists, not looking at her as she gapes at him because if he were to look at her expression he may lose it. it's quiet again in their own little world here, the air silent and numbing as y/n takes a breath.

"oh my god, wait richie how are we this stupid?" she asks, perking up and lightly slapping his arm. he looks at her in shock as she begins to laugh, "we've been alone together so many times. how did we not notice?" she asks, and he chuckles a bit, shrugging.

"maybe we're not the sharpest crayons in the drawer, toots. all i'm sayin' is that i figured it out first." he says cheekily, and secretly both of them are shocked to see how quickly they fell together, as if the knowledge that they were made for each other made all their insecurities fall away.

her face softens again. "you know, i saw my timer counting tonight and i was hoping more than anything that you'd be here. that we'd be-" she adds softly, a hand landing lightly on richie's thigh, sending licks of flames up his body. she takes a breath and restarts. "do you know how fucking bad i wanted it to be you?"

and just like that, y/n unintentionally provides a luscious mix of words and tricks that fill him with barely enough confidence to let him bet when he knows he should fold.

what's life without a little risk?

he meets her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and hers are large and hopeful as they wait patiently for him to give her something. but he still can't speak without running his mouth, so instead he cups her cheeks. her lips part slowly and he stares in awe at her raw beauty, unable to hold it in longer.

he presses his lips to her quickly and to her it feels like he is trying to prove something. it makes her heart soar as he comes alive against her, pressing as enthusiastically as she is into him. he tastes, as she'd guessed, like nicotine but mostly like a mint and it makes her grin as he pulls back.

"is this okay?" he's asking then, his thumb soothing over her cheek sweetly and giving her the same butterflies she gets when he smiles; the very same butterflies that release when he says anything to her, when he comes to her dorm for a study date with two red bulls in his hand, and when she realized their tattoos beat the same.

"yeah, of course." she whispers against his lips, the feeling of his teasing lightly making her sniffle. she presses their lips together again, this time warmer, more comfortably and his hands move to her hips and tug her closer, her hands winding to his neck as his own hands explore her body, caressing her sides gently. he pulls back and holds her softly.

"your hair smells nice." he says sheepishly, and she grins so widely she thinks she may split in two. her heart flutters as she looks into his eyes, finding nothing but love. "orange creamsicle, huh?" she asks with pink cheeks, and he laughs lightly, nodding his head. "best smell ever, babe."

"you make me happy." she says it onto his lips again, and the shiver that runs down his spine is a feeling he wouldn't mind feeling forever. his heart soars because he believes her, he trusts her. she wouldn't lie to him.

"we're so dramatic, aren't we?" richie jokes, his walls sliding back up a bit, but as y/n cuddles into his chest, head against his beating heart as she presses kisses to his neck, he realizes she accepts him.

"yeah, well. we're made for each other, aren't we rich?" she asks gently as his hand falls to brush over her thigh, right over the words. "that's right, toots." he says softly, looking down at her hairline softly, still in disbelief that it worked out for him. she turns to look at him, cheeks dusted a bit as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier has adhd #losers x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #mike hanlon x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #ben hanscom x reader #beverly marsh x reader #losers club x reader

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whitehotharlots · 4 years ago

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Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit.

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination.

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle.

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn’t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds.

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store.

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin.

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man.

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben.

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist.

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny.

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men.

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier.

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it’ll end his career.

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry.

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run.

Mayor Pete

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around.

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure.

Amy Klobuchar

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable.

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties.

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supercasey · 5 years ago

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TF2 RED Headcanons by an idiot that can’t pay attention well enough to read the comics

Back on my bullshit, because I apparently can’t shut up tonight. This is gonna be a big, possibly in-cohesive mess, and will probably have more focus on Scout, Pyro, Sniper, and Spy since they’re my favs, but I still felt like writing down all my dumb headcanons/ideas regarding everyone’s favorite mercenaries (at the moment at least; I might make another post like this later on, hopefully after I’ve read the comics)! Sorry if any of these seem OOC, I’m just goofin’! (Putting this under a readmore because WOW this got LONG)

Every Sunday afternoon, Scout, Pyro, and eventually Sniper when he tells everyone that he's a trans guy, hold a makeshift “Trans Buddy Club” meeting, which mostly consists of Scout mindlessly rambling about drama on base, Pyro nodding along, and Sniper occasionally adding his two cents/spilling tea as well.

Scout can speak fluent French, on account of his mom making sure to teach it to him so he could have more of a connection to his dad, but no one found out until a little after Spy told Scout he was his dad. It wasn’t long after this that Scout revealed that this entire time, he’s known every single thing that Spy's ever said to him in French, but he didn't say anything because he thought it would be funny to keep the ruse going (also because he really liked being praised in secret). Cue Spy freaking tf out because oh no, now his kid knows that he's secretly a huge softie for not only his son, but his whole team.

Sometimes Spy and Scout talk shit in French right there in front of the team, but no one has any fucking idea what they’re saying and to be honest it’s pissing Soldier off the most, much to the father and son duo’s amusement.

Pyro secretly has a little black rabbit named Lucifer (Lucy for short) in their bedroom, which they only take out to get some fresh air and hop around very early in the morning, before anyone else is awake. The only people who know are Medic, Spy, and surprisingly enough Soldier, whose raccoons became friends with Lucy.

Sniper has a goldfish in his RV, but it died three months after he joined the team; he has no idea though because Miss Pauling replaces it every time one passes away, so now Sniper is convinced he has the world’s oldest goldfish.

Scout and Soldier both really want a dog, but they're not allowed to have one on-base. :(

((Heavy plans on sneaking a dog in next Christmas and no one can stop him. It’s gonna be a Border Collie named Bandit, and it gets the most attached to Scout and Heavy.))

Demo is no longer allowed to make mixed drinks for parties; the last time he did, he got everyone so shitfaced that they had to cancel work for three days in a row in order to recover from it.

Continuing off of that: drunk headcanons.

Demoman: Unassuming drunk. Acts like he usually does, unless he’s gotten particularly shitfaced for a party/event, in which case he’ll be slurring so bad that no one can understand him anymore.

Pyro: Giggly drunk. Is just laughing the whole fucking night at nothing in particular, which scares anyone who’s still sober. If they’re too far gone, they’ll start mumbling something that sounds like it’s in Spanish.

Spy: Party drunk. An absolute fucking mess, he’s trying to impress everyone and keep their attention on him, which usually leads to him standing on tables and dancing until he falls and passes out.

Sniper: Sleepy drunk. Out like a fucking light at the slighest bit of alcohol. If he wakes up and keeps drinking though, he’ll just be slurring like Demo, only with a lot more anger in his voice. Let him sleep, or he’ll fucking stab you to death.

Scout: Clumsy drunk. Bumps into anything and everything; eventually has to be given a sippy cup for his alcohol because he dropped three glasses in a row. Talks even faster than usual, until he accidentally fucking pukes on someone.

Soldier: Calm drunk. Instead of getting loud and aggressive like most would think/fear, he’s just… chillin'. Just watches the shitshow as it happens, not even laughing when people get hurt/fall down. Kinda terrifying if we’re being honest here.

Engineer: Depressed drunk. His depression goes through the roof if he has too much, so he doesn't drink more than a few beers if he can help it. If he does accidentally drink too much, he'll be sobbing his eyes out in no time flat.

Heavy: Cuddly drunk. It’s very, very hard to get him drunk, since he’s really good at holding his liquor, but if you do, he’s gonna be hugging and carrying everyone he can get his hands on; you can expect him to have Medic and/or Pyro on his lap once he’s drunk enough.

Medic: Angry drunk. He wants to start fights with fucking everyone, all his rage coming out once he’s had a few too many; god help anyone who tries to stop him. Luckily for all involved, Heavy is more than capable of holding him still until he tires himself out.

BONUS Miss Pauling: Dumbass drunk. With too many bottles in her, she’s gonna be the one shouting and encouraging Spy to act reckless, while also encouraging Engie to drink more because quitting is for losers. Will pass out within an hour or so of downing her first drink.

BONUS The Administrator: Stereotypical drunk. Slurring, stumbling, she’s got the whole nine yards, but she’ll be damned before she let’s anyone see her that messed up. Secretly sips wine at work.

Okay, back to my rambling.

My personal headcanon names and ages for Scout’s older brothers, going from oldest to youngest: Grant 34, Timothy 32, Jacob 31, Arthur 31, Patrick 30, Malcolm 27, Curtis 26, and Jeremy (Scout) 23.

((Also, I’mma go off on my headcanon personalities for them, which are based off of how I’ve tried portraying them in my "Jeremy" fic.))

Grant - 34 years old - Bisexual - Occupation: Veteran/Construction worker - Personality: the oldest of the bunch, he takes it upon himself to keep his little brothers in line/help Ma out as much as he can. Enlisted in the Air Force after he graduated high school, and still takes a lot of pride in his veteran status after serving overseas three separate times. The family peacemaker.

Timothy - 32 years old - Homosexual - Occuptaion: Cartoonist - Personality: the gentlest of his brothers, he often gets roped into helping Grant keep the pack from running too wild. Bit of a softie; loves his husband and loves his job. Closest relationship is with Scout. Doesn’t approve of Scout being a merc but is too scared to say so. The family heart.

Jacob - 31 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Freelance guitarist - Personality: the firstborn of the only set of twins, Jacob is a lot more abrasive and instigating than his twin brother. Can’t grow a beard for shit, which pisses him off. Doesn’t get along well with Timmy, despite them both being talented and devoted artists. The family sword.

Arthur - 31 years old - Pansexual - Occupation: Carpenter - Personality: the second born of the only set of twins, Arthur is far more outgoing and nonchalant than his twin brother. Has a beard and loves it more than life. Secretly has a boyfriend, but is too nervous to come out. Gets along better with Jacob after they’ve become adults. The family shield.

Patrick - 30 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Hairdresser - Personality: probably the least social of all of the brothers, he prefers staying out of sight and out of mind tbh. Used to practice cutting everyone’s hair when they were kids. Doesn’t talk to his brothers that much, mostly due to being busy/forgetting to call more. The family shadow.

Malcolm - 27 years old - Heteromantic Asexual - Occupation: Wrestler - Personality: the most aggressive and physically competitive of his brothers, there’s nothing he won’t do to win a fight, save for using weapons/lethal force. Hard to get along with, but he still loves his brothers to bits, and was overprotective of Scout when they were younger. The family instigator.

Curtis - 26 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Bartender - Personality: was a total fucking mama’s boy growing up, and constantly got in trouble with his brothers for tattling on them. Still argues with Scout every time they see each other. Wants to make Ma proud, but it’s hard for him to keep a job for very long. The family drifter.

Jeremy - 23 years old - Transmale Pansexual - Occupation: Mercenary - Personality: (This is mostly for how he was as a kid) was constantly following his brothers around (especially Malcolm) in hopes of getting in on the fun. Was always treated as the family baby, so everyone was a bit scared to wrestle/fight with him for fear of getting him hurt. Very close to Timmy and Ma. The family runt.

No one on RED team can fucking drive well, save for MAYBE Sniper, but even he hates doing it. Spy gets so goddamn mad within two seconds of driving, Pyro can't stop swerving, Scout drives like a 16 year old who hasn't realized their own mortality yet, Medic jumps at every little inconsistency on the road, Heavy shouts at other drivers for being too slow/fast, Demo's depth perception is shit, Engie drives like a 90 year old grandmother, and Soldier is fine except he will literally shoot at other drivers for tailgating him/cutting him off.

The whole team has designated “Team Bonding Days” thanks to Miss Pauling, which involves playing board games, card games, and video games (in a slightly more modernized AU) together… this, of course, goes badly sometimes. The worst incident they ever had was a bad game of Monopoly that almost ended Heavy and Medic's friendship.

Uno is forever banned from Team Bonding Days. No explanation is needed.

Off the battlefield and in the base, Miss Pauling had the team set up a chore wheel, which is only occasionally followed. Engie is the most dedicated to following it, while Demo and Sniper try everything in their power to avoid cleaning the base.

Spy sometimes disguises himself as other teammates in order to get out of doing his chores, which has led to a lot of shouting matches that ended in Spy being forced to admit it was his fault.

Spy's favorite teammates to disguise himself as are Engie and Scout. He likes being Engie because he gets to be more affectionate with people without being found out, and he can act as Scout incredibly easily due to knowing him so well (tbh he's so good at masquerading as Scout that it's scary).

For Halloween, everyone put their names in Soldier's hat, then proceeded to pull out other teammates’ names to dress up as for their Halloween party. I dunno exactly who would be who, except that Scout traded around to get Spy, steals one of Spy's suits, and just goes around the party bonking people with a plastic baguette he bought online and speaking in a purposefully bad accent.

Spy: Mon fils, you can speak perfect French and you fucking know it. Please stop making a fool of ton père.

Scout: Hohoho, wee wee, I am a fucking frog that gets pegged by baguettes, hoho!

((Spy is this fucking close to committing filicide.))

Everyone can actually cook pretty well, but only very specific things for each merc: Demo can mix and blend drinks (not just alcoholic ones) like it's nothing, Pyro and Heavy like baking, Medic can barbecue anything, Scout knows how to make a lot of shit from scratch (thanks, Ma), Spy and Engie can grill like the true dads they are, Soldier will deep fry every piece of food he eats, and Sniper makes the best soups and stews imaginable.

In order of least to most messy bedrooms: Spy, Heavy, Engie, Sniper, Pyro, Demoman, Medic, Scout, and Soldier. You'd think Scout's would be the worst, but Soldier's room looks like a literal fucking war-zone.

Even when they're not working but get injured in some way (namely from shenanigans/horseplay), people will straight up kill themselves in order to respawn without the injury. The pettiest thing anyone ever respawned off-duty for was Medic suiciding over a tiny ass paper cut.

Demoman is scarily competent at the weirdest of times. For instance, Engie was once trying to figure out how to fix an issue on one of his turrets, only for Demo to stumble over, completely shitfaced, and point out the problem as well as the solution, before passing out under Engie's worktable. Demo doesn't remember this at all.

The first time Engie swore in front of the team in excess (due to dropping a hammer on his foot while he was tinkering), everyone was absolutely horrified because they had only ever heard him say “fiddlesticks” and the like.

Medic's room may not be the messiest, but goddamn is his office a fucking bomb waiting to go off 90% of the time. No one but Medic can find anything in the mess, which is just fine by him.

Heavy likes to sing (mostly just to Sasha) when he's cleaning her in the locker room. The others try to be within hearing range when he does this, because holy fuck, Heavy is a very good singer! He mostly just sings soft songs/lullabies, so his singing is sometimes used by the team insomniacs to help them get some much needed rest.

Okay, another group one. The mercs during shopping trips together:

Demoman: Sneaks a shit ton of alcohol into the cart when no one's looking. Starts complaining if he has to be at the store for too long; will try and sneak away to go home at least once during the trip. Accidentally bumps into a display case and makes a huge fucking mess.

Pyro: Sits obediently in the cart the whole time, occasionally nabbing candy and stuffed animals off of nearby shelves. Will puppy-dog eyes their way into getting everything they grabbed, no matter how much it is.

Spy: Somehow managed to steal an employee uniform and he pretends to work at the store the whole trip; the other mercs keep accidentally falling for it and asking for his help. This all goes to shit when a Karen starts shouting at him over something he didn't do, and he straight up slaps her.

Sniper: King of forgetting wtf was on the list and just grabs shit on the grounds of “Doc said we needed milk, right?” and other such excuses. Knows where everything is despite never having come here before.

Scout: “Gimme the list, I can get everythin' in, like, ten minutes!” Wants to speedrun grocery shopping due to years of shopping with his mom and brothers. Will run loose if left unsupervised and accidentally bust ass on some spilled milk.

Soldier: The one who spilled the milk that Scout busts his ass on. Insists he knows where he's going, but doesn't. Gets into a fistfight with a soccer mom while everyone's waiting to check out; the soccer mom won.

Engineer: Has a full, printed list of everything the team needs, which is organized by aisle number. Is the one who gives into Pyro's begging. Team Dad; keeps an eye on everyone and stops the soccer mom from murdering Soldier.

Heavy: Pushes the cart the entire time. Spends way too money on stuff in the protein shake aisle. At one point runs the cart down the aisle and let's go because Pyro wanted him to, and it ends up crashing into Demo.

Medic: Argues with the pharmacists at the pharmacy counter. Got lost with Soldier until they found Scout unconscious, so he had to perform CPR in the dairy aisle and a fucking paramedic criticized him the whole time; the paramedic hasn't been seen since.

BONUS Miss Pauling: Tries to more or less chaperone this shitshow of a shopping trip. Starts out cheerful and happy, ends up threatening to put child leashes on every last one of these dumbasses.

After Spy taught him how to dance in Expiration Date, Scout goes to him occasionally for advice, such as how to change a tire, how to cook certain things, how tf to do laundry, etc. Spy secretly loves that Scout does this, and tries to help him as much as he can.

Everyone on the team has called Engie “Dad” at least once, even Spy and Medic. No one comments on it.

Medic has been known to go on hour long tirades about anti-vaxxers, with Engie sometimes joining in.

Heavy buys Pyro stuffed animals during his trips to visit his family, which has started a tradition of everyone buying Pyro stuffed animals/toys when they go somewhere without them. Pyro's room is starting to look like a preschooler’s dream bedroom.

Scout calls his mom every other Friday, and he’ll occasionally let his teammates talk to her. Soldier always goes on and on about how good a soldier Scout has been (Scout cries like a baby), Medic tells her about Scout’s latest injuries (Scout damn near chokes him over it), Sniper is just glad to talk to a mom who won’t scold him for the whole phone call, Pyro hums music while Scout’s Ma sings the lyrics for them, Heavy talks about living in huge families with her, Demo asks her how she’s doing and if he can help her out at all, Engie is polite and also praises Scout, and Spy just tells her he’ll call her later before hanging up (Scout punches him for being rude to his mama).

Spy calls Scout's mom on the Fridays that Scout doesn't, mostly to check on her and sometimes to get into some, uh, “steamy” conversations over the phone. Sniper overheard a conversation between them once and now he can't look Scout or Spy in the eyes anymore.

And that's all I've got for right now! I hope you all liked my stupid headcanons!

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vtmb2s · 4 years ago

Note

Past 1, 3, 6, 8 for Jason my beloved and Present 5-8 for Jenny annnd Future 2, 5, 7 for Helena! 😏

─ JASON

1. Briefly describe the way their parents grew up, and how it affected the way they raised them.

Both his parents were two regular middle class new yorkers, Frank (his dad) grew up in New York's suburbs and had a very conventional upbringing, he was the middle child of three siblings and thus kind of ignored so he usually just minded his own business... that very much carried over into adulthood, he was very reclusive and didn't really bother spending much time with his family -_-

Jason's mom, Gina, was a 2nd generation italian-american who grew up in a huge family with a billion siblings and cousins who are all very different from her husband. She liked it in the beginning but she became more and more unhappy and kind of underwhelmed. She really projected all her dreams of ever becoming someone on her kids that failed with her because she was stuck in a boring marriage with the most unambitious and boring man ever 😑

3. Describe their family. Who raised them, and who had the most impact on them? Did they have any siblings? Who were they closest to? What were the family dynamics like?

This ties in with the previous question but Frank was a bit of a loser, not particularly attractive and more timid & shy.. he was a very unambitious guy who worked a boring office job all his life without any intention of climbing the ladder. He really spent most of his time off work with his boring little loser hobbies :/

Gina was a much more spirited and lively person than her husband, Jason takes a lot more after her than his dad. She wasn't a great mother by all means due to the fact that she was unhappy in her marriage and with her life and kind of took that out on her kids, in a way where she placed certain expectations on them which Jason never really met. They weren't particularly close due to Jason's more.. rebellious nature he had as a kid, which in turn made him cause more trouble because that was the only way his parents gave him any attention at all :/ He also has an older brother, Richard, who their mother very obviously favored. Frank didn't really give a fuck about either of his sons -_-

He had a very close relationship with his mother's family though, particularly with one of her brothers. Carlo (said uncle) was a lot like him and never had any kids on his own so he became somewhat of a father figure to Jason :-)

6. Did the location they grew up in affect them significantly? Do they still go there?

He grew up in some little house in New York's suburb, not the prettiest house there because they didn't make enough for one of the nicer looking ones. He's not that fond of the boring suburbs (even in Boston), he spent more time in the city with his relatives and preferred that over his actual home. Other than that it didn't affect him much 🤷‍♀️

8. What was their childhood/teenage bedroom like?

A small little room with an ugly sports wallpaper that his parents never bothered to replace as he got older. It always looked a little messy and had a few mismatching mid-century decorations and furniture in there. As he grew older he started to cover the walls with random posters he had, to hide the ugly baseball wallpaper.

─ JENNY

5. What kind of people do they usually interact with? Who are their friends, the people they look up to/trust, and who are their “associates”?

She interacts with all sorts of people in New Bordeaux' criminal underworld - if you do anything illegal chances are you'll know Jenny. As for her actual friends, she's friends with the 3 other criminal 20 year olds in town, Danny, Lincoln, Ellis, unfortunately Giorgi (frenemies would be more fitting) and Lena. Her closest and best friends would definitely be Gavin (of @dannyburke fame)and Juliet (of @jennystahl fame) though, they're also pretty much the only ones who would fall into the "people she trusts" category... they're the only ones she'll have long weed induced therapy sessions at 1 am while the monkees are on tv.

6. What is their current relationship with their family?

Complicated... the love is there and all that, it's more of a business relationship though rather than a parent-child thing, especially with her dad. It's nothing that she ever questions (until aforementioned therapy sessions with her friends), she grew up in an environment where affection isn't really something she sees often and almost all her friends have messed up relationships with their parents too so while there is some resentment she never really questions that the way they raised her might not be ideal :c

The relationship with her siblings is complicated as well, especially because they're both a LOT younger than her. She was an only-child until the age of 13 and moved out of her childhood home when they were eight and six years old so there's this weird disconnect but there's a relationship nonetheless, which is weird. Eldest daughter AND only child disease 😓Not to mention that her parents are looking to make her little brother head of the family because he's a boy or whatever.. drama!

7. Do they have a partner? How did they meet, and what’s their relationship like now?

Yes.. she and Ellis met on some random job in the Hollow in 1963 that her dad was taking her along with (he and Sammy did random deals together and were also good friends 😌) and Jenny was like wow how boring. What if I just talk to this this guy's sons instead.... she thought he was some annoying teenage guy and only really talked to him whenever necessary (when her dad's business trips to Sammy's got REALLY boring). She forced herself to hang out with him more after Lincoln went to Vietnam and realized he's not so bad so they became friends :)

In actual game canon nothing really happens because he dies, Jenny just becomes sad that her friends were killed (him, Danny, Sammy and maybe Michael too because of Juliet connection.. she doesn't give a fuck abt Giorgi anymore that little rat can die) and wonders if she liked that goofy little guy with the ugly shirts, but in any case it's too late now.

We're doing au's here though (also this is as of '68) so in the good timeline they get together in 1968.. sort of. It's not a friends with benefits thing, more that sort of relationship that you know will end sooner or later for various reasons, so you're kind of living in the moment and have fun while it lasts. It IS genuine and not just about hooking up from time to time of course, it's just not the kind of thing that was built to last because it's based off of a dumb 20 year olds friendship and one of them (Jenny) doesn't really plan on sticking around in New Bordeaux. But well, who knows what will happen 😏

8. What hobby or pastime of theirs do they consider most important to them and why?

Well, she's big on making music, she plays the guitar and sings (she has a pretty nice voice c: ), she grew up in a pretty fucked up environment so that was her sort of escape in her youth, to be a normal kid who's playing the guitar very very badly. She doesn't play it badly as a 23 year old anymore of course and it's a little thing she shares with her best friends so that means a lot to her 😳

─ HELENA

2. Are they content with their future situation? Is there anything they would change?

Well, she's certainly not happy with the whole vampire situation - her dreams of becoming famous for acting were pretty much ruined, now she's legally dead and nothing more than a photo on true crime blogs and conspiracy theory websites... Famous but for the wrong reasons, in a way she's more bitter about "dying" before she had the chance to become famous than about the whole vampirism thing herself. There would have been something incredibly poetic about a beautiful young actress dying at the height of her career, now she's just some random nobody :/

It could be worse though. She's known among L.A. vampires for her lack of loyalty to any of the factions (despite her working for the Camarilla earlier) and her just helping whoever she feels like which is fine to her, most of them will just leave her alone. In any case, she's not in Los Angeles anymore after the events of Bloodlines!!

5. Did they get married or have a family? Why? If otherwise, why not?

See she would like to get married eventually, making a promise to love someone and be with them for eternity (literally... because... vampires) is incredibly romantic and she would love that (THIS is her wedding... not really because she's not that cringe but also.. yeah), so who knows what might happen.

Family though, no!! Starting one isn't possible, at least not with biological children since she's a vampire. It doesn't bother her that much, she always did envision herself with one child in the future but she's not desperate to be a mother anyway so she doesn't beat herself up about it. She does wonder what it might be like to have children and laments it from time to time (she's a little overdramatic) but overall she doesn't mind that much.

7. Are their friends still a part of their life? Are there people they are no longer in touch with, or newly important people?

Yes, sort of! As I mentioned before she's not in L.A. anymore post-bloodlines and she never had many friends there to begin with so she keeps in touch with the few she has there. She miiight make a few new (or old) connections once shes out of Los Angeles too, who knows!

#THANK U ❤❤❤#three hotties..#i got SO many for Jenny i'm gonna end up having to replay mafia by the time i'm done with this #queennymeria #ask #c: jason #c: jenny #c: helena

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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago

Text

Holographic Sand is a Kickass Band Name

pairing: peter maximoff/OC(graciella decuerpo) (high school AU/not canon)

summary: peter learns that a fuckton can change in the course of a week

warnings: none? bad language and peter is simp but thats it

notes **please read**: Heyyyyy how are you doing? good? that’s great. so ik this fic is a peter/oc fic, but honesty i only use her name a few times and a few defining features but like. thats it. so you can totally just imagine urself in her position. also this fic is 5,550 words exactly. that’s the most ive ever written and I am SUPER fucking proud. I think i might become one of those blogs where i write super huge monster fics that im proud of instead of just writing to fill requests.if u dont want that then just lmk and i will not do that. i dont know. maybe. also this fic is peter centric because uh it is. anyways enjoy <3

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @simonsbluee

--------

Monday

Peter sat across the room, his arms crossed neatly on top of his knees as he rested his chin on his forearm. He wasn’t paying attention to the lesson being taught in front of him, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again. Peter’s mind was a chaotic minefield of music and cheesy one-liners and random facts that he seems to just know. But this time, he wasn’t envisioning himself beating up a police officer or playing with Pink Floyd. This time, he was picturing a perfect world where nothing ever happened yet nothing was ever boring. Peter had built a utopia in his mind-- a kingdom created to his exact preferences. A blissful tower of joy and happiness and energy and satisfaction. A paradise where he stood on top of the world with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, standing right next to him.

Now, Peter was well aware that the pretty girl from algebra class had no idea who Peter was. The pair had never exchanged more than a few words, but somewhere within those few words, Peter managed to decide that she was his soulmate. He’d created an image of her in his head that would make God weep tears of envy, the perfect personality for the perfect person. Peter willfully ignored the fact that he was setting himself up for heartbreak as he imagined how nice it would feel to have her fingers intertwined with his.

All of Peter’s friends thought he was ridiculous, ‘you can’t love someone you don’t know,’ they’d say. Peter would only scoff and shake away their words. He absolutely can love someone he doesn’t know, it’s getting the other person to reciprocate those feelings that’s nearly impossible. However, that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing at night. That doesn’t stop him from imagining the various ways he’d confess his love to the pretty girl who doesn’t love him. Or maybe she does. Peter doesn’t know, he could never know; unless, of course, he worked up the courage to talk to her.

Scott constantly teased Peter about his one-sided infatuation, but Peter paid no mind to him. He was 100% content with his perpetual pining for someone who probably didn’t know his name. He was totally okay with the unending ache in his chest that would appear any time she walked by or met his gaze. Peter was alright with his ceaseless yearning and the eternal feeling of disappointment that overtook him every time he snapped out of one of his fantasies. He was a-okay with all of that.

So, there he was, spacing out during biology class as Professor Hargreeves struggles to teach the silver teen about photosynthesis. The Professor looked at Peter with desperate eyes, soon deciding that having his usually energetic student be quiet and still was the silver lining of the situation-- no pun intended. Professor Hargreeves droned on as Peter glanced at the clock, counting down the minutes until 7th period. Counting the seconds until he got to see the pretty girl in algebra class once again.

Tuesday

6th period was always the worst part of Peter’s day-- the dreaded english class. There were many contributing factors to Peter’s hatred for this class; the professor was a bore, the material itself was uninteresting, and Peter could never seem to sit still or retain any of the words he read in english class. Worst of all, english class seemed to go on forever, leaving Peter to impatiently wait for the bell to ring and release him to 7th period. At the end of the period every day, he was practically vibrating in his seat.

“Can anyone tell me what Juliet’s suicide is supposed to symbolize?” the Professor asked expectantly. Peter couldn’t care less about the symbolism of some chick’s suicide-- he’d much rather be studying the features of his algebra class infatuation.

She sat next to him yesterday. There were at least 5 other open seats and she sat next to him. Yes, Peter read too much into it and yes, Peter spent the entire class period trying to make himself seem naturally cool, but he didn’t care. Peter would act like the most desperate, pathetic, lovestruck loser in the world if it meant that she would like him. They didn’t talk, they didn’t exchange a single word, nevertheless, Peter was in a state of euphoria for the entire class period.

Sometimes Peter feels like a stalker. He watches her whenever he can-- he doesn’t follow her around or anything, but if she’s around, he’ll stare at her. He has her features memorized, the curve of her nose, the dark brown irises surrounding her pupils, the way that she always seems to have chipped black nail polish on. He sees the small things. He sees the way she bites her nails when he gets bored and he sees the way her leg never seems to stop bouncing. She hums the basslines to songs as opposed to the melody.

English class came to an abrupt end as the bell cut off the Professor’s teachings as well as Peter’s distant daydreaming. Peter was out of his seat within seconds, his notes and books quickly being swept up in his arms as he walked out of the room. The hallways are crowded and chaotic and busy, each individual student attempting to get to their locker then to their class on time. Peter watches as kids swing their lockers open, fatigue and weariness apparent on their faces as they disappear into their classrooms. Peter reaches his locker hastily, the few small posters of classic rocks bands adorning the inside of his locker door. A playful giddiness overcame his body as he made his way to algebra class, a small smile left on his face.

Graciella shows up across the hallway, her bright red hair catching his eye in a sea of brown and blonde and blue. His stomach flutters as they get closer and closer to each other, finally meeting outside of the classroom. Her eyes rise to meet Peter’s, and instead of pulling away, Peter keeps looking. She smiles at him before disappearing inside the classroom, and Peter felt his knees get weak. With a deep breath and a triumphant smile, he walked into the classroom.

Wednesday

Lunchtime; possibly one of the most enjoyable parts of Peter’s school day. Peter is free to kick back and stuff his face full of whatever junk the school board deems nutritious enough for highschoolers. Usually, he ate lunch under the bleachers with his friends, but in some sick twist of fate most of them were absent. So, Peter was left to eat alone in his usual spot.

The quiet was comfortable, refreshing. The gentle summer breeze would blow every few minutes and Peter would listen to the rustle of the leaves. There’s a certain tranquility to being alone; Peter can lay back and relax and just… think. No stress, no panicking, no--

“Hey, uh, Peter, right?” Peter’s eyes snap up so fast he’s afraid they would detach from his head and fall out. His breath faltered and his hands began to shake a bit-- why was he so freaked out? She was just a girl; sure, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and yeah, he was madly in love with her, but that’s besides the point.

“Uh-- uh, yeah, P-Peter. That’s, uh, that’s me,” He chuckled awkwardly, desperately trying to stay cool. Peter was an awkward person, but he’d rather die than fuck up his chances with Grace.

“You dropped this on your way out of class yesterday, I, uhm, didn’t get to return it to you until now,” She holds out a small key chain with three small keys hanging off of it-- Peter’s house keys, along with the key to his mother’s car. He quickly takes the key chain from the red-haired girl in front of him.

“Holy shit, uh, thanks! I couldn’t get into my house yesterday so I guess you saved me from another broken window,” Peter held up his hand and showcased the scattered pattern of small cuts on his palm. Grace laughed lightly before gently running her fingers over the cuts on Peter’s palm.

“Oh fuck, dude, these look pretty bad. Maybe keep a spare key hidden under your welcome mat or something,” Peter doesn’t fully process Grace’s words; he’s too preoccupied with trying not to collapse at the feeling of her fingertips on his palm.

“Hey, you okay? You look… pale,” Grace pressed the back of her hand on Peter’s forehead in an attempt to check for illness, but that just made Peter’s skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I, um, I’m fine. I’m just st-stressed about the algebra t-test on Friday, I th-think,” To be fair, Peter was stressed about the algebra test. Peter may or may not have spent the entire class staring at Grace instead of, you know, learning the material.

“Oh! Well, if you want, I can help you study. I’m also kinda worried about it, and I study better with other people,” Peter silently thanked god for what was happening to him.

“That would be fuckin’ fantastic,” Grace smiled a smile that made Peter shiver.

“Cool! Uh, I’ll give you my phone number and we’ll meet up tomorrow. One day isn’t much time to study, but it’s better than nothing.” She pulls a pen out of her backpack and rips a small piece of paper out of one of her notebooks. Peter watches as she scribbles down her phone number and hands the paper to him.

“Thanks. For everything, the keys, the studying-- everything.” Grace smiled.

“It’s no problem, Peter, really. I’ll call you later,” And just like that, she walked away. Peter was left alone under the bleachers, a wide smile plastered on his face as he read the piece of paper in his hands over and over and over again.

Thursday

30 minutes. 30 minutes until Grace Reaper DeCuerpo, the prettiest, nicest, funniest girl Peter had ever met would show up on his doorstep. She would be inside his house for god knows how long. She would sit next to Peter-- either on the coffee table in the basement or on the floor of his bedroom. Needless to say, Peter was freaking the fuck out.

The plan was simple: Grace shows up, they study, they get comfortable, and she goes home. Yet, in those four simple steps, so much could go wrong. Wanda could interrupt, his mother could lose her temper, Lorena could start crying-- worst of all, Peter could embarrass himself and drive her away.

Peter was in the middle of reorganizing his record collection for a third time when he heard a knock at the door. His blood went cold and an electric excitement ran through his veins. Peter checked his hair in the mirror one last time before running to the door. He stood silently, staring at the chrome handle hesitantly. This was his one chance. His only chance to make his perfect kingdom real-- Peter really, really, really didn't want to fuck it up. With a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, Peter!" Her voice was smooth and melodic and it made Peter's heart light up. He’s about to respond with something smooth and witty when a squeaky voice chirps behind him.

“Hi!! Are you the pretty girl Peter talks about?” Peter can physically feel his face turn bright red as he turns to see his six-year-old sister, Lorena, standing behind him. She’s wearing a purple princess dress that has a syrup stain on the sleeve. Grace laughs before stepping through the doorway.

“Lorena!” Peter groans in annoyance, a pleading look on his face. The young girl just giggles before scurrying away, her dress flowing behind her.

“‘The pretty girl Peter talks about’, huh?” Grace grins at Peter cheekily. Peter runs his hand through his hair before motioning to the staircase.

“God, Lorna is quite the kid. Well, uh, we can work in my room,” He sighs. “And Grace? Uh, m-maybe don’t let Lorena change your opinion of me,” She just smirks before walking past Peter.

“Too late,” She called before disappearing down the stairs. Peter could hear the faintest trace of a smile in her voice. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly followed after her.

She was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and holding a backpack with various pins on it-- her left ear was pierced in three places and her right in five. The earrings she was wearing were black, or maybe grey; her bright red hair blocked Peter’s view of them. She was wearing rings, some odd words engraved in the metal. Peter couldn’t read them from where he was standing. She was wearing a skirt with fishnets, her hand buried in the pockets that seem to have been sewn in herself. She has callouses on both her hands, but Peter knew that already. Her appearance would put Aphrodite to shame-- suddenly, Peter was much less confident in himself than he was before. He ran his hand through his hair again before reaching the basement.

He held his breath as Grace looked around his room, her gaze lingering on the plethora of stolen signs and band posters covering the walls. She placed her backpack on the floor and walked over to Peter’s record collection, her fingers carefully flitting through the different albums. She seemed… impressed. It was then that Peter realized it had been silent for much too long.

“Y’know I can, uh, p-play some music if you want me to. You can just pick a record and, uh, I’ll... play it,” Peter winced at his words, cursing himself for being so awkward in front of the girl he’d been pining after since the beginning of the year. He felt like everything had spiraled out of control, and he watched idly as it happened. Then, Grace shot him a smile and pulled out a record.

“You have a good taste in music, Silver,” No one had ever called Peter ‘silver’ before. He liked it a bit more than he should. “Although, that’s not really a surprise. I had a feeling you were cool.”

“You think I’m cool?” Peter asked, shocked. He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

“Oh, totally. I see you in the hallways sometimes and you always seem so… carefree. Genuine. I don’t know, I guess it’s just… you, ya know? You’re naturally cool.” Every syllable that rolled off her tongue shot euphoria through Peter’s veins. Grace DeCuerpo, the girl Peter Maximoff had dreamed of for almost a full year, was telling him that she thought he was cool. Naturally cool.

“I know a lot of people who would disagree with you on that one,” Peter joked. There was truth behind his humor, but of course, he didn’t want to get into his insecurities now. “They think I’m a total loser, which isn’t totally wrong I guess.”

“Well those people are stupid,” She stated matter-of-factly with a smile. “Speaking of stupid, we should probably get to work.” Peter nodded before sitting beside her on the floor.

For three hours they poured over their algebra books. They quizzed each other and checked each other’s work; Peter’s proficiency in simplifying radicals aiding them both. Every now and then their hands would brush against each other, or the conversation would stray away from school and into their personal lives. Peter learned that Grace had two brothers, one of which passed away when she was younger. Peter talked about Lorena and Wanda and his miraculous abilities in the same way that she talked about her hometown and her own abilities. The conversation was smooth and natural-- Peter didn’t feel like he was being too annoying or too chatty and there was seldom an awkward pause. The pair were content in their time together, not a single moment went by where one wished the other would leave.

Eventually, Grace had to go home. Peter wished that she could stay forever, but of course, that would be considered kidnapping. He walked her to the door, although Peter didn’t feel like he was walking. He felt like he was floating.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Silver,” Grace said softly as she turned to face Peter. She looked him in the eye and he could feel his stomach flutter.

“Yeah, I guess so,” She opened the door, but before she left, she froze. She turned to look at Peter once again.

“Peter?” she said. “You’re not a loser.”

Friday

Peter could tell the second he walked through the front door of his high school that something had changed. The energy that radiated in the halls shifted from a dull buzz of boredom to a rush of anticipation. The students in the hallway looked the same as always; tired and anxious and wishing for the day to go by quickly. However, Peter wasn’t wishing for the end of the day, and he certainly wasn’t tired. He was determined and energized and absolutely terrified, because that morning Peter Maximoff made the most important decision a seventeen-year-old could. He decided that he was going to ask Grace out on a date.

Peter made the choice to keep this from his friends-- it’s not that he didn’t trust them, it’s just that Peter knew he would be teased for his infatuation. It’s happened before and it will happen again. He walked down the hallways with a brave face on, his eyes forward and his heart racing. Truthfully, the silver teenager was terrified of… well, everything. The looming image of a harsh rejection forced itself into his mind; the idea that she would laugh in his face made his heart break a tiny bit, even though it wasn’t real. Peter simply shook those images away and walked on.

The day flew by much faster than Peter was comfortable with, and for the first time ever, he was dreading algebra class. He was terrified that he would walk through the door and have everything be exactly the same-- he feared that Grace would go back to not knowing who he was, just like before. Peter was alright with never being her boyfriend, but he didn’t want to be a stranger. He didn’t think he could take being a stranger anymore.

So, there he stood, staring at the door to his algebra classroom from across the hall. He felt confident and prepared himself for the task at hand. In four long strides, he entered the classroom. Grace was sitting next to an empty desk, her eyes stuck on the small notebook full of doodles on her desk. Peter watched as her eyes raised to meet his, a wide smile forming on her face as she motioned him over.

“Hey, silver! I saved a seat for ya,” she called, and Peter felt his knees get weak. He then decided that he would wait until after class to ask her out.

“You did?”

“Of course,” She grinned. “I like you, dude, you’re my friend,” Peter’s heart fluttered as he sat down beside her. Grace shot an odd look his way before reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, you look stressed. Don’t sweat it, silver, you’ll do fine. We studied for, like, 3 hours yesterday. You’re gonna ace it,”

To be frank, Peter had forgotten all about the test. The real reason he looked so stressed was because he happened to be sitting next to the love of his life, and the love of his life happened to be touching his arm.

“O-oh! Uh, yeah, thanks. I was just nervous because of… the test,” The bell rang and class began, the professor strictly laying down the rules that were to be followed while the test was in session. Peter could feel the lingering touch of her hand on his skin. It made his head feel fuzzy.

Peter soon came to learn that sitting next to Grace during a test was a huge mistake. He couldn’t focus on anything other than her-- it didn’t help that she kept shooting him glances from where she sat. The numbers and letters on the paper in front of him seemed to rearrange before his eyes, instead spelling out various taunts. He feels a little pathetic for how easily Grace can unravel him, but hey, he’s a teenager.

The silver-haired boy’s eyes were struggling to decipher the words on his page when a small folded square landed on his desk. It came from Grace’s direction, and a small smirk had formed on her lips as she solved equations. Hesitantly, he unfolded the paper and read the neatly written message.

Hey silver :)

Peter smiled softly. He quickly pulled a pad of post-it notes out of his backpack and scribbled down a quick reply.

I have no idea what I’m doing. I think Professor Stedman decided to write our tests in hieroglyphics this time.

He flicked the note onto her desk and quickly turned his face downward. Class would be over soon, and Peter knew he couldn’t turn in a blank test. He uses his enhanced speed to do his assessment in seconds. Sure, he was almost certain he’d barely reach a passing grade, but hey, he had bigger matters to focus on. By the time he finished, another note landed on his desk.

That bad, huh? Looks like we better study longer next time.

Peter’s heart swelled a bit. He really thought the study sessions were a one-time thing. He’s overjoyed to know he’ll get to see Grace semi-regularly, even if he never manages to ask her out.

I think I’d rather hang out with you without the looming threat of schoolwork.

That’s the closest Peter could get to asking her out. He put deep thought into every word, he examined the phrasing and checked the spelling of every word. His english teacher would be proud.

That can be arranged ;)

Peter had no idea that four words could make him feel so much. He had no idea that 17 letters could make him want to scream in the middle of a silent testing period. His hand was shaking and his careful planning was abandoned as he scribbled back a reply.

Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?

Patiently, he waited. He waited for Grace to finish writing her response and he waited for her to toss the note back over. He didn’t wait for more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He was panicking, and he was sure she could tell. She was probably joking, right? She was probably writing an awkward clarification-- she was probably explaining that she would actually rather die than be around him for non-academic reasons. He braced himself as the yellow post-it landed on the center of his desk.

My aunt owns a drive-in a few miles from here and she gave me keys to the projector room and the gate. She managed to snag a copy of The Exorcist-- I thought you’d like to join me during my midnight escapade tomorrow night.

Peter’s heart stopped. For a moment, he thought his eyes were fooling him. Maybe this was all some sick joke. Maybe he was being set up. Maybe he’ll get in her car tomorrow and she’ll drive him into the woods and murder him. To be completely honest, Peter wouldn’t mind if she murdered him. Peter wrote his reply.

Really? You want me there? I might be a drag. You could probably find at least 20 other people who would probably be more interesting than me.

Grace frowned at his response, and suddenly Peter decided he never wanted to see her frown again. She wrote confidently, her words solid and sure.

You? A drag? Impossible. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, Maximoff.

This note was his undoing. He couldn’t help himself, he read it over and over and over again-- he almost forgot to respond. He wanted to hold onto it forever, he wanted it to be framed and hung on his wall. Hell, he wanted it tattooed on his arm. Peter had never been so happy while taking a test, that’s for sure. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say; he went from heartfelt responses to witty retorts. Finally, he decided to be totally and completely honest.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Saturday

There was seldom a time in his life where Peter Maximoff felt wholly content. Even in the most peaceful moments, there was always something bothering him, there was always something to pull him back to reality. However, sitting in the back of Grace’s dad’s convertible with the seats down and the roof pulled back, his head resting on her shoulder as they watched a cheesy horror movie, Peter was as close to nirvana as he’d ever been.

Life had always been so hard for Peter. He’s always had to fight for his seat at the table, to claw his way into a state of mind that wasn’t a hellhole. It seemed as if the world was plotted against him; he was ostracized from society and taught that he, along with his closest family and friends, were monsters. He never met his father and his mother spent so long fighting her own battles that she forgot to love her kids. Peter had to steal to stay fed, and he had to do his best to raise his little sisters to be good people. But right there, right then? That wasn’t hard. Peter didn’t have to be anyone or do anything-- he just had to exist next to someone who wanted him. That was the easiest thing Peter had ever done.

Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he got there. Of course, he knew that they had driven to the drive-in, but he wasn’t sure how he was the person next to Grace. They had spoken for one day, maybe two, and somehow he landed himself in the most perfect spot in the entire universe. Less than a week ago, she didn’t even know his name. Or, maybe she did. Maybe she was just like Peter-- maybe she had spent the past year pining for him, and finally she worked up the nerve to just talk to him. Maybe. Peter isn’t complaining either way.

“Can I ask you a kind of cheesy question?” Peter is startled by the sound of his own voice. Grace sits up and glances at him.

“Shoot,”

“Do you-- well, uh, don’t read too much into this, but, do you believe in love at first sight?” God, he sounded awkward.

“Nope,” She said bluntly. Peter wasn’t expecting that answer, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed by it. “I mean, it’s kind of a stupid idea, ya know? Like, isn’t there a million poems and sonnets and books written about how love is this weird complicated monster of a feeling? I don’t think you can really love someone just by looking at them. You can love the idea of a person, sure, or maybe the look of a person, but you can’t love that person. Because a person is so much more than ‘first sight’,” she sighs. “I don’t know, maybe I’m being a killjoy. It just seems dumb to me-- dumb and, I don’t know, exclusive,”

Peter stops to think for a moment. He steps out of his lovesick chaotic hellbrain and looks at his feelings from an outside perspective. He thinks back to the kingdom he created in his brain-- a kingdom built on a foundation of sand. Or, less than sand. Holographic sand, because the sand he built his kingdom on wasn’t real. He made a mental note that ‘Holographic Sand’ is a kickass band name, then resumed his impromptu soul-searching. She was right-- he could see that now. Scott was right, too. You really can’t love someone you don’t know, because if you don’t know them, you fill in the gaps. You fill in the gaps with what you think fits, and then the other person stops being them and starts being parts of you. Peter suddenly felt weird.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” Grace interjects after a while. Peter hadn’t realized he’d been silent for so long.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. On the contrary, you, uh, you made things a little bit more… right, in my brain. You somehow managed to take a little chunk of chaos and tame it, which is scarily impressive,” he joked. “Remind me to ask you your opinion on the meaning of life and the root of true happiness,” They’re joined in a chorus of laughter and Peter realizes that his little brain kingdom didn’t hold a candle to the red convertible he was sitting in. She slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Y’know, I might not know the meaning of life, but I am pretty close to true happiness right now,” She says, softer than before. “Maybe the root of true happiness is you, Maximoff,” She chuckles. Peter smiles. He doesn’t want the ruin the moment-- god, he is desperately trying to keep himself from fucking it up, but he feels obligated to tell her about his year of pining.

“Hey, uh, can I tell you something kinda pathetic?” He cringes at the way his voice trembled on the last word.

“Go ahead, Peter,” She used his name this time. Peter thinks she knows he’s about to say something mildly serious.

“I’ve liked you since, like, the beginning of the year. You seemed so… cool. So nice. I saw you in the hallways and my stomach would get all twisted up and my head would hurt a little bit. It was like I was allergic to you, but I enjoyed it. That sounds weird. I’m sorry,” He stopped for a moment, attempting to take the buzzing mass of words in his brain and string them into a sentence. “I was too afraid to talk to you, so I, uh, asked around. I got other people’s opinions of you and then built a little version of you in my brain. I realize now that, uhm, the little brain version of you is like, way way worse than actual you,”

When you talked to me the first time, you threw me off. I wasn’t really nervous about the test-- I mean, yeah I was nervous but that’s not why I looked so pale. I just wasn’t expecting for you to talk to me, like, willingly. So I lied because I was embarrassed. And I lied again in class yesterday. Because I was embarrassed,” He stopped talking. Peter felt like he was digging himself into a hole-- he felt like he killed the sweet sugary mood.

“Why are you telling me this?” Grace asked. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded a little confused, and she sounded like she was trying to help Peter decipher his brain.

“I don’t know, I guess I just feel bad. I feel bad for, uh, for not being honest I guess. I feel bad for being a coward,” Yep, definitely killed the mood.

“Peter, you shouldn’t feel bad for being afraid, you know,” She assures. “I would’ve done the exact same thing in your position. Hell, I did do the exact same thing in your position,” That caught Peter’s attention.

“What?”

“You didn’t drop your keys in algebra. You dropped them somewhere in bio and my friend found them. She was gonna take them to the office, but I wanted an excuse to talk to you, so I said I’d return them,” Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was being pranked, he had to be. “Being awkward and weird is like a requirement in high school. Don’t sweat it, Maximoff, really. We’re all the same in that way, I think,”

Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was feeling too much at that moment, he was letting the bad drown out the good. He didn’t want to remember the day in a sad light.

“I like you. A lot. Even if you are awkward and weird,” He smiles softly. Slowly, ever so slowly, he intertwined his fingers with those of the girl beside him. It was a simple display of affection, but it made Peter feel like he was floating.

“I like you too, dork,” Peter smiled widely before placing his head back on Grace’s shoulder. Peter wasn’t paying attention to the movie, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again-- but this time, he wasn’t standing on a false kingdom with a false version of the girl he liked. No, this time, he was thinking about the very real girl beside him. He was thinking about the perfect world they had created in the small car they were in; a perfect world where he felt so much emotion and so, so safe. They had built a utopia in the back seat- a blissful tower of awkwardness and comfort and clumsy confessions. A paradise where he sat in the back seat of a Ford Galaxie with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, sitting right next to him.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #sorta a little bit #graciella reaper decuerpo #xmen #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #high school AU

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mottephobia-imagines · 4 years ago

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BNHA as Hetalia Characters (Axis + Allies only)

Hahahahaaaa.. I’m still Hetalia trash 😇

—

Mirio Togata as America

I first put Denki as America but then I saw a post and now I can’t stop thinking about BTT SeroKiriKami so yeah-

Mirio and America have more things in common other than being blond, blue-eyed precious beans that need to be protected

First of- s t r o n g. They’re both canonically some of the strongest characters in their respective series despite their relatively young ages (Mirio being above some pro-hero levels despite still being in high school and America being well America lmao)

Additionally, they both have drive; they have a determination to become as strong as they possibly could, and stop at nothing to get there

Also, they love helping people! Mirio wants to save a million smiles, and America is a self-proclaimed hero (who admittedly isn’t the best but he’s trying okay)

Both of them kinda also have a hidden intelligence? Like, as in one would never think of them to be highly intelligent people because they’re so goofy and energetic

Since it’s implied that both Tamaki and Mirio game in their free time, him and America are also avid gamers (imagine them playing smash together lmao I feel like they’d break all the controllers)

Both v v competitive too (not as much as the next duo tho)- they’ll never back down from a challenge and face it head on with all their might!

Also, they’re basically the blond boy of the month but it’s every month lmao

(In my eyes they’re both cute little golden retrievers shshsjdjskal)

In conclusion, they’re sunshines who deserve the world and more

Katsuki Bakugo as England

Okay fr hear me the fuck out-

I know it’s an unlikely pair

But they have their similarities just bear with me here

Yes, I was initially going to put in Romano for Bakugo (anger issues gang)

But then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that unlike Romano, he wouldn’t back away from a challenge or run at the slightest scare- Bakugo would take that shit and smother it into the ground

And while England may sometimes be portrayed as a prude gentleman type, we can’t forget his history- this man is probably one of, if not the most, ballsy countries to exist (at least back in his prime)

England is smart, calculated and cunning- how could you not be when you’ve conquered nearly the whole damn world?

He’s proud and maybe a bit too egotistical, and while lacking the anger issues and probably dead vocal cords of Bakugo, he sure as hell matches him in the pride and power aspect

Bakugo, on the other hand, is literally top of his class; boy is a nerd and has a perfect record

So he’s by no means any less smart than England, maybe a little more reckless, but he’s 16- you can’t exactly compare his mindset to a country’s

Even so he does act quickly on the battlefield, much like England assessed situations very precariously (most of the time)

Both of them would probably look an opponent dead in the eye and tell them to do it, bet you won’t pussy ass

On a lighter note tho, they’re two blond, spiky-haired tsunderes who are way to proud and smart for their own good

They also both listen to rock/punk so there’s that too

foreverfurrowedbrowclubTM

Aoyama Yuuga as France

I know I just said SeroKamiKiri is the BTT but once again hear me out

I couldn’t not put Aoyama in as France

It’s literally a match made in Heaven guys cmon

They’re both sparkling, flamboyant and fabulous blondies

Although sometimes their attitude can be interpreted as holier-than-thou, really they just know that they’re amazing and don’t care what people think (we stan confident kings 😤)

They also know that they deserve the best luxuries in life, and definitely won’t settle for anything else

In terms of courage, they’re pretty much on the same level; they get scared easily and will more than likely either back out of the challenge or give up the moment they feel tired

The difference is, France will never regain whatever bravery he had before the French Revolution, but Aoyama is slowly building his courage up in his journey to become a hero

They also take things in stride, willingly or unwillingly (whether it be an ugly outfit or a defeat, they won’t be a sore loser lmao)

While not necessarily flirty like France, Aoyama can still charm people with his whims. Also, their relationship towards people that they can’t charm kind of mirrors one another? (Might be reaching here lmao)

I do think though sometimes that Aoyama shows some similarities with Poland/2P!Romano, but he has the most similarities with France so 🤷🏻‍♀️

Toga Himiko as Russia

You may say she’s more like Belarus but nay nay I say

Belarus is the more kind of ‘stoic’ cruel in my mind; she doesn’t show much emotion besides annoyance and getting angry

Russia however

He’s ‘childishly’ cruel- looks innocent but is capable of some horrible, monstrous things.

Even though his face says otherwise, he does take some glee in torturing harming others (like, a lot)

Toga also does this, but in a much more obvious way lmao. She’s a villain, who drinks blood, there’s no doubt she hasn’t killed anyone. She also takes a lot more pleasure from hurting people than Russia does

They not that close with people, but the ones they are close to they are immensely protective of (Toga and the LOV, Russia and his sisters)

They also are capable of being highly intelligent, knowing more than what people think they know (Toga helping Twice our, and I high key headcanon Russia as a manipulative and cunning bastard who’s done many horrible things to people to get his way)

(I still love you Ivan)

I think this goes without saying but they’re really really violent

Russia just likes using his magic metal pipe of pain, and Toga likes her knives

They also have some really shitty pasts that have lead them to be who they are today

They may look cute on the outside, but they are oh so very cruel on the inside

Shota Aizawa as China

Haha, old man syndrome-

These two have more in common than you’d think

First off, they have that wisdom that comes with age, and are trying to get the younger ones to learn it (Aizawa does this better lmao)

I can totally see them complaining about ‘kids these days’ even tho they’ve done the same shit back then-

Along with wisdom comes cunning and craft. I headcanon China as a low key genius, so he’s probably on par with Aizawa, if not better (in terms of battle strategy and such)

Even though they come off as strict, all they really want is the best for their students/siblings

They’re both physically strong (China was probably once hella jacked, and Aizawa speaks for himself)

They do tire out quite easily tho so there’s that

Both have a penchant for cute animals like cats (Hello Kitty’s a cat don’t @ me)

On a darker note, they’ve both suffered losses of close friends. While China has definitely lost a lot more, Shirakumo’s ‘death’ still took a huge toll on him. Likewise, China has lost all his ancient friends over the years, making him the last one left (except turkey and Mongolia they don’t matter rn)

Tenya Iida as Germany

You cannot tell me this isn’t also a match made in heaven

They’re literally, at their very core, almost the exact same person

Iida is a stickler for rules- he follows every single one of them. Any and every. Pretty organized too, if I do say so myself

Likewise, Germany is also very strict with rules and regimens. He’s also canonically OCD so mans cannot stand messes (people or things)

It may make them seem like pains in the neck but really it’s the only way they know how to interact

Also have some angsty connections with their brothers

Although not as easily provoked as Germany, Iida can still be just as terrifying (mans tried to kill Stain I mean come on-)

As with nearly all of these characters, they’re both strong as hecc

Also, I feel like both of them are somewhat pressured by what their other family members have accomplished and want to achieve the same thing (Iida coming from a family of superheroes, and Germany really looking up to his father and brother and wanting to be like them but less yknow)

They don’t really know how to communicate well?? Like, of course they can talk and hold conversation but they have difficulty with most social interactions (it’s adorable)

More often than not the louder voice of reason within their friend group (Everyone in the Dekusquad besides Deku himself is the voice of reason lmao, and Germany is a no-nonsense kind of guy)

Smart bois (In Gakuen Hetalia, Germany is said to be one of the smartest students and tutors Italy, and Iida tries his best)

All in all very awkward and loud losers beans that need to learn how to not be so stiff lmao

Shoto Todoroki as Japan

Y’all already know I had to pair the introverts together

Calm, collected and reserved- these two mind their own business like it’s a sports championship lmao

Even though they may come off as intimidating sometimes, in reality they’re just shy and don’t really know the basics of social interaction (more than Germany and Iida lmao)

They’re both fairly strong, too (Todoroki with his icy hot quirk makes him one of the most OP characters in MHA imo, and Japan definitely doesn’t carry around a katana just for show)

Very very convoluted and not so great childhood (Think the sengoku period was Japan’s childhood so he was basically torn up as a kid while Todoroki had to deal with Endebitch)

Also both pretty smart??? Like, high key they’re both very intelligent and skilled

Both their friends are slowly helping them get out of that super duper introverted mindset, but the poor bbs are still trying to learn how to be a lot less stiffe

They’re also really into architecture esp traditional Japanese architecture (canon in both)

I honestly think they’d get along pretty well if they met, tbh

(Japan would get him into anime and manga and the bookworm in Todoroki can’t resist)

The strange circumstance of Italy

Honestly, I could not find anyone in MHA that was remotely similar to Italy

I was very close to putting in Mina or Nejire, since those two come to mind whenever I think of bright and bubbly (Maybe Kirishima too, but it just doesn’t fit)

So while those two are pretty much the most fitting I feel, they don’t completely encompass his character enough yonow?

Like, I genuinely cannot find anyone who is similar enough to compare him to

So for now, until I can find a suitable pick, Italy won’t have a MHA character to be paired up with 😔 sorry guys

—

What do you guys think? Do you agree or do you think different characters should be put in place?

If this gets enough notes, I might make a part 2 including female nations and the others (or whatever characters you guys request)

Requests are still open! You can ask for edits or character imagines/headcanons!

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glucoburnsuppliment · 3 years ago

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hqprotectionsquad · 5 years ago

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𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒚 - 𝒊𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒛𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆

⤷ 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒊𝒕. ⤷ 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒊'𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒚 ⤷ 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

words: 3311

tw: brief mentions of partying and alcohol

“You’ll never find your soulmate, loser. I don’t even know why you keep trying,” one of the girls in your class smirks above you as she says this. She approaches you at your desk, furnished with permanent marker stains that you’ve attempted to wipe away. There’s no point. You’re seen just as dirty as your now gray desk. Two other girls flank her sides and knock a few things to the floor.

You don’t say a word because if you say something, they will immediately be twisted. Nothing hurts more than sitting through dozens of monthly soulmate ceremonies in school. Why do they need to celebrate when someone finds their other half when it’s expected in society anyways? What’s there to brag about? You can’t lie when there’s a nudging squeeze in your heart when you see all of the pairs forming a horizontal line on the school stage, reciting the poem you can say with your eyes shut and brain asleep. Sitting in the audience while everyone finds their true love burns a fire in your soul.

Your eyes trace imaginary lines into your uniform and you wait until you can hear their laughter drifting away. Your fingers reach for your belongings because this isn’t a fiction story where your soulmate will brush your knuckles as he reaches for your pencil case and you meet eyes. This isn’t a romance novel. This is the way your life goes, even if you’re the only one in your class that apparently hasn’t seen your soulmate.

Many people meet theirs in their childhood, or a popular way to meet their soulmates is when they’re first enemies and gradually become lovers. What’s the probability that you might fall in love in a cliché way that would make you want to roll your eyes otherwise? You’re only in high school. It shouldn’t matter because you’ll eventually meet your soulmate.

You’re now in college. Still, you’ve never taken part in a soulmate ceremony, but now, the university you attend holds these ceremonies in private instead of major assemblies in front of the entire student body. Part of you is very thankful for not having the want to gouge your eyes out every time someone bragged that they’ve been on stage to commemorate finding their soulmate. Another part of you is confused because how else will you find out who does or doesn’t have a soulmate? Many people are very private about their personal lives and won’t let you know until you maintain a very strong relationship with them.

You, on the other hand, have no problem playing with the fates of time and love. At this point, you’ve almost lost all strength in your wishes of having a soulmate. Your roommate, Hitoka, will tell you on their way out everyday, “You never know who you’ll meet!” Yet, nearly every day is as boring as the last.

“I’m going to start seeing people,” you break the silence as you and your roommate are up one night while working on homework. You sink into your respective beds, hunching over your laptops and miscellaneous papers that won’t mean anything in four years.

“Like how?” Hitoka uses her knuckle to brush a hair out of her face, taking a moment to cast you a confused glance. Just as quick as she looks at you, she’s back to her own work.

“Well, I don’t know. Dates, probably sex. I don’t know if it’ll lead to a soulmate but I’ve almost given up on trying to find one. It’s like the universe hates me or something.” You sigh, placing your pencil to the side. “At this point, it’s not even something I’m actively seeking.”

“You should keep trying,” she tells you while she taps her head with the eraser of her pencil. “I met my soulmate a few years ago, but I didn’t know she was my soulmate until last year.”

“How did you know you clicked?” The homework is off to the side now. Talking about soulmates is much more interesting. You can always finish it in the morning. “Everyone always says that they meet their soulmates, they throw huge parties, but they never reveal how they knew they were the one.”

That is the most frustrating thing about this societal match up system. Even your parents told you that when you meet the right person, you would know. Back then, you found it so endearing, but as you grew older and wiser, you can see it’s just a way to make sure nobody cheats their way into a relationship that isn’t meant for them.

For a brief moment, you think she’ll brush it off to the side and tell you it’s something you figure out on your own. “Well, I joined the volleyball club as a manager because she was actually recruiting people and I was the only person who was up to it. I was so scared because she’s so pretty and so intriguing, and I’m just me.” The grin on her face stretches as she reminisces. It almost erupts a green flame in your stomach, but you push down any harmful feelings. “I was really shy, and I saw some really tall guys who looked super scary. And now, I’m standing in front of the door because I’m too scared to go inside. I eventually made it inside, but that’s just when we met. Last year, when she was paying a visit to the high school, I was pushed into her and I think it was just magic. I swear we were glowing, and she told me she was glowing.” Hitoka scratches her head. “The funny thing is, when we asked the volleyball team if they saw the light, they said they didn’t even notice I got pushed into her.”

“That’s...that’s amazing.”

Thus begins your search for your soulmate. Something about what your roommate said that day, you can’t pin it down, but something so wonderful brews within your heart. A new fire has come to the light in your soul and you’re ready for the mission.

You try to brush against other people when passing by them. Take friends’ hands if they aren’t uncomfortable with touching. Drop your books and give the helper a hug for doing something they didn’t have to do, and they fall into your half purposeful, half by accident trap.

Nothing you do makes anything feel right. In fact, it feels like the harder you try, the further you’re straying from your soulmate.

“Maybe you’re just looking at everything in the wrong approach,” your roommate says nonchalantly, just putting in her two cents while you both wind down for the night. She’s brushing her hair, looking at her reflection in the mirror on the left side of the room. On the right side of the room, you sit at your desk, looking into the mirror sitting next to your lamp. Wouldn’t it be easy to pinpoint the reason why you haven’t met your soulmate yet? With each passing second, the resolve seems farther away, as if it is purposely running away from you. “Have you tried sex yet?”

You bite your lip. You’ve forgotten that you told her you’d do something like that, but you never followed up on your solutions. “Um, no.” Would it be too embarrassing to tell a potential hook up to be careful because you haven’t tried it yet?

“Go to the next party and I’m sure you’ll find someone. Even if they’re not the one, you’ll have a fun night. Maybe you just can’t think about things, you know? They can’t really come if you’re forcing it.” Hitoka nods to affirm you, and then without another word, she rests her head on her pillow and turns on her side.

You nod to nobody and slide under the covers with unease settling in between your bones. This feeling is as physical as it is mental; your bones tighten with your lungs squeezing. Nothing you shouldn’t be not used to, though. Ever since you recommended temporary relationships as a temporary solution, pangs attack your gut like nobody’s business. What is your body trying to warn you? Or maybe it is a sign to look for what is to come?

Whatever it is, you take it along with you to a party that an acquaintance invited you to. No frat parties for you, but club events usually have free food and drinks, and nobody is trying to take advantage of you for a ratio. It’s off-campus and you hail down a cab to take you to the location.

“Holy God,” you mutter, stepping out of the car, one foot at a time after paying your fee. Slamming the door, the driver almost immediately takes off, your arm seconds close to being detached from your body. “This can’t be a house.” It’s a towering complex of some sorts, three stories above the ground. No wonder it’s off-campus housing. It looks like it’s someone’s parent’s house with its carefully trimmed lawn and pristine windows that, you’re sure, some kid was privileged and invited friends to live with them.

“Coming in?” A girl beckons, waving you out of your rose-colored fog. “This is for the debate and engineering clubs, a joint party of some sorts.” Right, clubs that you have no membership in, but luckily, nobody really cares about that.

You follow her into the house and it is as stunning as the outside. Vaulted ceilings greet you in the foyer and you’re certain the rooms can never be counted in full. The furniture looks perfect despite students hanging from each bit of it, slurping mixed alcohol and scarfing down snacks from the convenience store.

“Is there any particular reason for celebration?” You ask, but when you shift your head from focusing back on the girl, she’s long gone. The rest of the party is a blur. You don’t drink too much and you’re basically sober by the end of the occasion, and you wish you weren’t, to be frank. As toxic as your mentality is, you just want a reason to get out of your head for a night. Now, the real problem is trying to get home. The taxi driver earlier demanded two times the price of a usual drive, just because it was slightly out of his range, and presently, you flip through your bills, or rather, your lack of many.

“Hey, do you need help?” A boy with spiky hair approaches you. “You look a little lost and we’re about to finish for the night.”

The weight in your chest sinks even lower. With no friends here, you have no one to hitch a ride from and no one to call at this late hour. You thread your fingers through your hair without a word.

“Hey, don’t cry. Do you need a place to stay or something? Campus is kind of far from here, I wouldn’t mind opening my doors if you need.”

Your eyes widen and your heart freezes in the mix of blood and plasma. “Uh,” you’re basically speechless and your mouth moves up and down. “I don’t know if that’s safe.”

His hands raise to the shoulders of his hoodie, shaking his fingers. “I wouldn’t do anything like that. I don’t really take girls to my place, but I promise if you just need a place to crash, you can come. But of course, if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just thought you’d want to postpone the ride until later, they upcharge even more in the middle of the night.”

Spiky hair boy makes a point. “Okay, thank you. What’s your name?” You ask as he leads and heads out of the house. What kind of dude does this? Is he some kind of simp, willing to do anything for a girl? Whoever he is, his face does not match his subservient personality.

“My name is Hajime.”

“I’m Y/N.” You keep your words to a minimum, just as a preventative measure. What if he sells your information on the internet, or plans on spreading rumors about you and all he needs is your first name? Your mind keeps swirling with the possibilities that he takes your hand in his.

“You look really pale. Are you okay? My apartment is only two blocks away. You just have to stick it out until then.” Hajime loops his arm under your shoulder to keep you balanced. Maybe he’s just a nice boy. Hasn’t his mom ever told him that nice boys finish last? He won’t ever get a soulmate if he’s this nice to you.

When you make it to the apartment, a new surge of energy rushes through your veins. “It’s two in the morning, you shouldn’t be this excited,” you mutter to yourself. To him, you ask, “You have a clean apartment. Is it just you here?”

“Yeah. I just like my area neat.” It shows, from the frugal amount of items in the garbage can to the lack of specks on his wooden desk next to the bed. “I can give you some clothes and a toothbrush, but besides that, I don’t really have any other stuff to share.”

“Thank you,” your voice trails off when you sit on the edge of his bed, which is neatly made with navy blue sheets that are pulled up to only two pillows. This is a simple man’s apartment, one that is evidently made for one person. Hajime is fetching the things he said he would, and your hands are folded into each other. Your fingers crunch against the opposite knuckles. Something is off about him and you can’t tell what.

With a hint of a smile, he hands off the clothing and the packaged toothbrush. “I just found whatever would fit you.” You take them, your brows gnawing at the center of your forehead. His own clothes lay in your hands and you can’t stop looking at them. His shirt and his pair of sweats are in your hands and somehow, your fingers won’t stop shaking. “What’s wrong?”

“I, I don’t know. I’m sorry, let me just change and get out of your way. The quicker I go to bed, the quicker I’ll get out of your hair.” His really beautiful hair, you think off-handedly. “That door over there is the bathroom, right?” You stand and you tilt your head back a little to get a better look of his face. He’s a serious looking guy and you wouldn’t want to cross paths with him on the street or even a classroom.

“Right.”

But even now, barely knowing him, you know he has a record of being a supportive person. You can tell. He’s probably the type to place a 500 yen bill into a person’s charity bucket and the type to be kind to everyone, no matter who they are. What kind of connection are you really feeling here?

You rush towards the door, fumble with the knob, and finally, you’re into his small rectangle of a bathroom. Your back presses against the door and your eyes shut as air comes in and out of your nose. “Oh my God.” Heat flows in your body and especially to your cheeks, as you see in the mirror. Is he experiencing the same emotions you are?

No. It can’t be possible and you refute any ideas that come to your head. This is silly! You’re just sleep deprived and you’re not thinking straight. You splash some water onto your face and stare into your reflection. These dark circles underneath your puffy eyes are a sign that you shouldn’t be thinking so hard. First, you brush your teeth with the toothbrush and some toothpaste you found in his cabinet. Then, you slip out of your damp clothing. You glide into his shirt that reaches to your thighs and his sweatpants that have extra fabric that pool at your ankles. You don’t need to intentionally sniff into the material to have his scent ingrained in your head.

“All good in there, (Y/N)?”

You come face to face with him after opening the door. “Yep, all good. Thanks for lending me your clothes and the toothbrush.” You slip past him, allowing yourself space. “Is it cool if I just put my stuff in this corner?”

He nods and then he bites his lip. “Take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.” You couldn’t believe that the one time you actually get into a man’s bed, it’s not for a date or sex. The two things you wanted to do to mess around are thrown out the window. Would it be too early to rule them out?

It is too early to rule them out. You just met him, though he is a very kind person. It’s your tired brain trying to run faster than it can. You slip under the covers, it’s the same scent as before. It’s a mix of husky man and detergent, something you’d never really understand outside of a man’s apartment. Your head sinks into the pillow and you shut your eyes.

After ten minutes, you shift positions, fluff the pillow, count sheep. Nothing. You sit up, squinting your eyes to see Iwaizumi’s bare back hiding behind a sheet while he sleeps on the floor. He’s illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the one window in the apartment. Even though you’ve taken his source of comfort, he is taking it in stride.

“Are you awake?”

Iwaizumi hums in return.

“Thank you.”

“For what exactly?”

“For being you. I know we just met, but it feels like I’ve known you for a long time.”

Disregarding what you said, Iwaizumi sits up and stares at you. “Do you have a soulmate?”

“No. You?”

“No. Maybe we’re each other’s.”

All you can hear is your breathing and his in this quiet apartment. It’s quiet enough to hear yourself gulp. “I think we are.” How else can you explain how you’ve been feeling? Is this what Hitoka meant when you’d know? “How do we know for sure?” You’ve hardly been shy all of your life, yet now when you meet someone who could be your soulmate, you’re crawling into your skin.

“We can let this be our one night. If we don’t feel a connection, then I guess we aren’t soulmates.” Hajime says this all while biting down on his bottom lip. He doesn’t want to look at you, but he forces himself to make eye contact.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” There’s no going back anymore.

Hajime tosses his sheet off of his legs and sits on the edge of the bed, dangerously close to you. He takes one of your hands into his and studies the way your eyes look up and down, from either looking at all parts of him or just not wanting to look into his. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you whisper and after releasing one breath, your hands nestle along the dips connecting his neck to his shoulders and you kiss him. Your lips are on his and you’re lacing your fingers through his hair, taking him all in, taking this whole experience in. Your hands fit perfectly in his, your lips press against his in the perfect mold, and you wouldn’t be surprised if when you hug him, it’ll feel like the world melts away. Honestly, even though you told Hitoka you’d be fine with messing around, maybe you were just waiting for the right person. He doesn’t have to be perfect right now, but he will be the one who throws out all of the lists of traits you wanted in a soulmate. He will end up being the one item on your list.

And here he is in front of you, clutching onto your body like his life depended on it and basking in the presence of an almighty moon.

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