#i helped out but it was mostly my manager/pal who had to clean it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dulafer · 3 years ago

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TWIN REVENGE

This is an old one, just thought I’d share..... Its of my shortest stories. Any feedback appreciated - [email protected]

REUNION

I’ve always been the odd twin out. Will and I were both named William C. Witt with the only difference being our middle names – Charles and Conner. I’ve never liked being called ‘Willy’ while William preferred ‘Will’. Growing up, our parents couldn’t tell us apart - we even have the same birthmark on our chins.

I’ve always been jealous of Will for being the favorite. Many times, I’d answer to my brother’s name on purpose or force Will to swap places with me. The first time I was Will was when he was failing algebra in 9th grade and didn’t want our parents to find out. We swapped places so I could take his tests. My condition was that I stay as him for the day – soaking up my parent’s adoration and love. Will was definitely our parent’s favorite which pissed me off the older I got, often lashing out for attention. In high school I started impersonating my brother to get him in trouble. Sometimes, I would get caught because my brother would have an alibi with friends backing him up, or I’d would slip up wearing my hair differently or some other little detail.

By our junior year, I started hanging with another group of friends and dealing drugs. My reputation for trouble followed me as my ‘business’ grew. Will knew what I was up to because people would mistake him for their dealer. Weeks before graduation, the principal caught me selling drugs red handed, thanks to a tip from Will. Since Witts are a powerful family, Dad worked a deal to allow me to graduate on the condition that I spend the summer in rehab. The deal was made and the day after graduation, Dad drove me to the rehab center. I lasted a week before escaping and never being seen again.

My drug pals smuggled me out of Los Angeles to northern California. San Francisco was the perfect spot for me. With my college age looks, I blend in on local high school and college campuses where my business grew exponentially. I wear the college gear that fit the campuses I was working daily. I’ve always been thrifty with my earnings and always a light user myself so I saved my money for a future free of drugs. When I can, I sit in on college classes, mostly political science since my father was always drilling politics into Will and I.

Will on the other hand, was the perfect son. He attended college for political science, becoming a staunch conservative. But Will wasn’t always perfect. After two years in college, he dropped out and was hired at Prager U as a campus correspondent to interview students and follow trends. Will quickly picked up a fan base nationally and within months was buying a condo and new car – with the help of a proud rich father. Will travels the country giving speeches, interviewing people and blogging.

Mom and dad have all but forgotten about me. I faked my own death and changed my name when I heard my family was looking for me. It was convincing enough that the Witts even had a funeral for me.

CAMPUS LIFE

I’m at Stanford University working my regular ‘route’, supporting my boys with product. A few girls spot me, come running over and one screams. “Oh my god, Will! I’m your biggest fan.”

I wonder why they’re calling me Will and fawning over me? “Hi, thank you so much.”

“We can’t wait to hear you speak. You going to do a ‘man on the street’?” the other one squeals.

“Sure am.” Not knowing what that is even. I see one of my boys coming over for his weekly stash. “Excuse me ladies, I’m meeting an old friend.”

Tyler comes over with his usual swagger carrying his backpack. “Do I have competition bro?”

“No, not at all! You know you’re my main man.” We do his frat’s handshake. Anyone watching us would see us both in Stanford gear and just assume we’re students. We take a seat on a nearby bench, talk business, two minutes later, he’s leaving with my backpack full of drugs.

I walk around campus, wondering about those two girls calling me Will. When I get to the campus hub, I see my face plastered all over the board. The flyers reads ‘Will Witt, Prager University, Topic: Campus Diversity’. I pull one off the board, fold it up and place it in my backpack pocket. I’ll be damned, my little brother in town. I have to see this for myself.

I get home and study the flyer, find the Prager U site and start watching my brother’s videos. We’re so alike with our political beliefs – neither of us have fallen far from our father’s tree. We both have the same attitudes and beliefs as good old dad. He even sounds like dad did, around the dinner table our entire life. I then log into his Instagram account, using Will’s password he’s been using for a decade. I’m getting envious of my brother’s life – he’s still the golden boy and I’m sure dad is super proud of him. He’s traveling all over the world thanks to this Prager gig. On top of that, he’s become famous on Fox and other mediums for being very articulate and full of energy.

As I watch him, I’m getting very envious of Will. I’m as smart and talented as my brother. I could have been the favorite son, the celebrity. ‘Should be, could be, will be.’ I think to myself. That should be my life.

The next day, I head to a theater supply store and buy a fake belly, beard/mustache and some make up. I’ve got to see my brother in action today. Will is scheduled to do a ‘man on the street’ interview on campus this afternoon, then the speech later tonight.

I show up for his man on the street interview but hang way back, out of sight of Will. With my disguise, I’ve gained 50lbs, a full beard, sunglasses and wearing a tie dyed hoodie. I watch and listen as Will, his producer and camera man set up everything. I record everything with a shotgun microphone - hearing the back and forth banter between Will, his cameraman Gavi and Mike, his producer. That evening, I attend the lecture in another disguise just to be safe. I’ve haven’t seen Will in over two years but he’s still the same arrogant Will in private. In public he’s very friendly and charming. As I’m listening to Will speak, a plan starts to formulate in the back of my mind. Willy is already dead to the world, so why not become Will. It’s not like I’m inexperienced in doing it. It would always piss Will off when I would steal his identity and fool his girlfriends. While he was taking a shower, I would get dressed first, take his clothes, phone, car and pick up his girlfriend who was clueless. Will would be pissed but I would apologize and he would forgive me. One time Will called his girlfriend while I was impersonating him and couldn’t convince her that he was actually Will – I was that good.

I start tracking my brother via his emails, calendar and social media. Will is flying from Los Angeles to Washington for a week, with Turning Point USA to promote Prager U and himself. Our parents will also be gone on vacation to Europe for months, with plans to hook up with Will in London for lunch and a show in a month.

MOVING TO LOS ANGELES

I need to formulate a detailed plan. Will has lived the good life long enough, it’s my turn now. I start with cleaning up my life here – telling my friends that I need to disappear again. They buy it easily as it has happened before. I clean out my bank account – about $1m, and drive to Hollywood where Will lives.

I rent a furnished apartment across the street from Will’s condo. It’s perfect – from my living room and bedroom, I can see his entrance and garage. I keep my fake beard and baseball cap on all the time, and only use the back entrance to go anywhere. On his departure day, I watch him being picked up by an airport service and confirm his flight took off on schedule. I head to my bathroom and remove my beard and hide my longer hair under a baseball cap. The condo manager gladly provides ‘Will’ with a spare key when I tell him I lost mine.

Will’s condo is very nice with an open floorplan. There’s 3 bedrooms and 3.5 baths. The lower level is a 2 car garage, lots of storage, a large video recording studio and utility room. His silver Porsche 911 Cabrio is parked next to a motorcycle. On the wall is some leather gear, boots and helmet. The 2nd floor has a large living room with exposed brick walls, huge flat screen, fireplace, bar, gourmet kitchen with top end stainless steel appliances and a personal office. The 3rd floor is all bedrooms with a huge master suite with large bathroom and large walk in closet. The one spare bedroom is sparsely decorated with just a bed, dresser and chair. The other bedroom is mostly empty. It’s a great ‘crib’ but I’m certain daddy helped pay for most of it.

I get to work quickly with my plans. I try to check out his studio’s computer but its password protected and I can’t get it to unlock. This isn’t a problem after I plug in a thumb drive with keystroke tracker and some other tricks. In a minute, I gain access to all his computers and social media accounts. The password was his usual password but backwards.

His iMac Pro is a wealth of information – full of his unedited videos, speeches and even a digital diary. I thought he stopped doing a diary in 11th grade but apparently not. He updated it just this morning before leaving. I’m sitting there for hours reviewing his life since I left. His comments about my death and funeral are cruel to say the least. He blames me for fucking up life with my death, how mom & dad are glad it’s over and they’re all better off. Even my father agreed with him. That’s fine by me, they won’t miss Will at all when I take his place.

I decide to spend the night here and continue my studying. In his basement studio there is a green screen, professional video cameras and teleprompters set up in one corner which he uses to make his cutesy videos. I turn on the equipment, click on a file and up pops the words to his last blog on the teleprompter. On another display in front of the green screen pops up the empty stool where he sits. On the stool is a remote I believe is for controlling everything. I plop my ass down, face the camera, and see myself, or Will on the display in front of me. I fuss with my hair to give me Will’s prominent cowlick, press ‘record’ and the words start moving for me to perform. “What’s up guys, Will Witt for Prager U” I repeat his performance, then delete file before passing out at 2am, after seeing his posts on landing in Washington DC.

LOOKING THE PART

My brother prides himself on his hair, especially the huge cowlick that he’s proud of. According to his calendar, he had a haircut a few days before leaving for Washington. I make myself at home taking a shower, and pulling on some of his clothes – dark gray skinny jeans, t-shirt, jacket and his black high top converse sneakers. I’m missing his clunky watch and ring he wears all the time, and also his rope crystal necklace he’s been wearing since he was 15. The one time I was with one of his girlfriends, not having that necklace on, gave away my identity. I jump in Will’s Porsche and find a salon with a great google rating. I ask for my usual and show her pics from two days ago. They’re very close up and detailed. In half an hour, I’m smiling at Will in the mirror, running my hand through his cowlick.

Back home, I pull in to the garage and before I can close the door, some pretty little thing is running over to me.

“Will! Hey there, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Oh hey, you caught me.” I smile and act surprise.

“Tammy and I are having a party tonight.” She hands me a flyer ‘Jen and Tam’s Big Party’.

“That sounds like a blast, ‘Jen’.” Hoping she’s the ‘Jen’ on the flyer.

“I was just going to slip it in your mailbox. Thought you were going to Washington or someplace exotic again.”

“My DC trip was postponed, so I’m here.” I give her a typical Will smile.

“Washington’s lost is our gain. You have to come. Besides you can crawl home if you get drunk like unlike last time.”

“I’ll try my best but super busy here.” I chuckle with her, not sure what she’s referring to but Will’s diary will probably help me remember some of it. I’d love to go but there’ll be lots of iPhones around and plenty of pics/videos posted on social media.

A friend sent me a lot of WiFi HD fiberoptic video cameras and microphones to bug my brother’s place. I place a few in each room then sync them to my iPad. Walking from room to room I test them all for activation. It takes all day to hide them properly. Later on, Will’s latest VLOGs and antics from Washington start appearing on his desktop.

His video reminds me how different our styles are. Will was always conservative dresser while I went for the grunge look. His videos confirm his tastes haven’t changed at all except becoming more expensive. I’m making myself at home – it’s going to be my future home soon anyway. With my new haircut, it only takes a little of his gel to look exactly like him.

It was always fun turning myself into Will when we were younger, it’s still a turn on now. I print out some pics from his PC files, showing various outfit he’s worn. I’ve got to nail his ‘look’ perfectly for my future life. There’s one of him in a sharp black suit, white shirt and black tie playing a piano, with a red lapel thingy at a Prager U gala a month ago. We both took piano lesson but I was always a little better.

It’s easy finding the outfit in his very organized closet. He took it off, left the lapel pin in and probably hasn’t worn it since. There’s a video of the gala in his files that I watch, providing me glimpses of his shoes and watch. I strip out of his jeans, and into the outfit. I couldn’t find his watch – it’s probably in Washington on him but I slip on his pinky ring and a different watch from his jewelry box. Back in the studio, I start a new file – Prager Gala, pretending that I’m Will being interviewed about the night’s events. I sit on the stool, hit record and adlib the event starting with Will’s signature “What’s up Guys” intro, including flashing his two fingers. Being Will is all very natural for me. I’m up half the night learning the equipment, checking out his videos and closet. I just need a few weeks of studying him before I replace him.

To access his cell phone, a friend puts me in contact with a local guy who clones Will’s iPhone. It costs $2000 but I now see his text messages, calendar and listen to his voicemails. I can also listen in on his calls while he’s talking to people. I can’t speak to them, and they can’t hear me but it’s perfect timing. With him in Washington, his entire life is going through his cell phone, providing me with up to the minute information. He’s working on his schedule for the next few months. With access to all this, I’m learning who his coworkers are, listening to work conference calls, what they’re working on and what Will’s job entails as Prager’s ‘social media influencer’.

Will has a spare set of keys for our parent’s place so I visit just to see what changes have been made while I’ve been gone. The most obvious change is the lack of pictures of me. Their mantel has no pics of Will and I together. It almost looks like they have only one son – that I never existed. Everything else is pretty much how it was three years ago. As I was leaving, Mrs. Tarantolo, their neighbor sees “Will” and comes running over to say hello. She thought it was sweet I was keeping an eye on their place while they were away “Such a good son.” She claims to be my biggest fan and hasn’t missed any of my videos. She’s clueless about me, as she should – when even our parents couldn’t tell the difference, I’m not worried about anyone.

My week consists of listening, watching and reading everything he’s up to. I take his Porsche out to grab lunch or dinner to remote places so I’m not seen by anyone that could know him. A few times, fans mistake me for Will and I sign autographs using “What’s Up Guys”. They’re thrilled and its harmless fun for me.

The week flies by and I return to my apartment across the road. I return the spare condo key to the manager after making a duplicate of it. On schedule, Will returns via LAX shuttle service. My surveillance system works perfectly as he moves around his condo. I see him taking a shower, changing into sweats and working in his studio. His buddy Mike arrives later with pizza and they brainstorm in the studio about their next VLOG and ‘man in the street’ topics. Listening to their banter helps me learn the lingo and their personal relationship.

Will has not changed a bit since I left Los Angeles – same old anal retentive asshole. It’s fun watching and learning about him. He’s still an avid runner, and like clockwork, he does five miles around a nearby park most mornings. Prager U is just a few miles away and he’s there daily unless he’s traveling. He has a new girlfriend he casually hooks up with but it’s not serious, so that’ll be easy. He writes about meeting her in his diary. He’s got his work schedule planned for the next few months and I know enough to handle it. After a few weeks, my gut is telling me I’m ready to be Will Witt.

Will’s next major trip is to London for a scheduled Turning Point USA promotion/MOTS and speech at Oxford University – same as he did at Stanford. My plan is to replace him when he arrives home. This gives me another 10 days to get up to speed with his life. I watch him pack, see LAX shuttle service pick him up and confirm his plane took off as scheduled. I make myself at home but keep a low profile, rarely going out.

Between his phone and computer, I’m kept busy 24 hours/day just keeping up with his life. He’s definitely a video freak, not only recording content for Prager but also everything else like his hotel room, what he had for breakfast, his shopping excursions. I can’t wait to wear his new $7000 bespoke suit he purchased during his shopping expedition on Saville Row. I listen in on his phone calls with our parents, his friends and girlfriend Lisa. This helps me get up to speed with what’s going on in his life. Mom & Dad meet Will for lunch at his hotel, then go to see Hamilton. There’s plenty of selfies and videos to make his life mine. He’s spending a fortune on food, wine, clothes, cigars and trinkets.

A few hours before he returns, I’m armed with chloroform, truth serum and various knock out drugs. I hide in his bedroom, ready to pounce with a heavily soaked rag of chloroform. It’s almost enough to knock me out just holding it.

HONEY I’M HOME

The door lock jiggles and Will enters, plopping his luggage inside the door. He makes a beeline to kitchen and opens the refrigerator. He’s there quite a while before I hear him dragging his very large suitcases up the stairs. I’m crotched in the corner, behind the door as he struggles to get both bags through. The perfect moment happens when one of the bags get stuck in the door jam and I hear him say ‘fuck’. In a split second, I pounce and have the chloroform soaked rag over his nose and mouth. A split second after that, he almost falls to the floor as I catch him. I drag him out into the hallway, and finish putting his bags in the bedroom.

“Welcome home Will, have a good trip?” I look down at him passed out and ask.

“Awesome trip man, had fun with the TP USA team, saw Hamilton with the parents, and hit up lots of pubs and cigars. I’ll have to show you all the pics I took.” I respond to myself in Will’s typical enthusiastic lingo.

I drag Will to the empty bedroom and start stripping him. Of course, he’s in a sport coat and tie to travel. It’s so ‘Will’ I think as I carefully remove everything from him, amazed at how alike we still are. I strip off my old sweat pants and t-shirt and put them on him. I pull him up into a metal chair I anchored to the floor, then handcuff his hands and feet so he can’t move an inch. I kneel down next to him, grab his face, then rotate it side to side to check his appearance close up. My sideburns are about a quarter inch too long so I head to my bathroom and trim them to match exactly.

I carry ‘my’ clothes back to my new bedroom and slowly start my transformation into Will. I love pulling on the outfit he’s been wearing all day—his sweat and scents mixing with mine. Everything is still warm as I put on his black briefs and socks. His charcoal dress pants fit perfectly as I pull them up. His shirt has gunmetal gray cufflinks and is monogrammed on the sleeve with our initials ‘WCW’. I pulled the black lace up shoes off his feet without untying them. I wiggle into them, tuck in my shirt and fasten my belt. In the bathroom mirror I put on his tie using the same technique dad taught both of us. I pull on his cool black sport coat with large dark gray plaid patterns. There’s a video of him wearing this outfit for red carpet Oscar interviews. I check his breast pockets, locating his iPhone, keys and wallet. Tucked inside an outside pocket are his glasses. Slipping on his ring, leather wrist band and watch completes my transformation into Will Witt. I adjust my hair using his Cremo hair cream—Will is always fussing with his hair. Staring in the mirror, I only see Will Witt, just as he was traveling first class earlier. I grin at myself as I adjust my shirt cuffs and admire my looks. I do his usual MOTS intro flawlessly – “What’s Up Guys”. From this moment on, I’m Will Witt and no one will have a clue I’m not.

My iPhone buzzes in my suit pocket, it’s Will’s girlfriend, Lisa calling.

“Hey Lisa, I just got in the door babe.” I answer watching myself in the mirror, smiling and playing Will flawlessly.

“I thought you would be, I’ve missed you so much Will.” She whispers seductively.

“Same, may I take you out for dinner?” I ask as charmingly as Will does, remembering their conversation from a day ago, and Will promising dinner and a surprise.

“I would love that.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 7, Let’s dress up and go someplace nice. I’ll wear a suit and tie.” This gives me the afternoon to get settled into my new life.

“Okay Will, can’t wait.”

“Bye Babe.” Will’s cutesy name he uses for all his girlfriends.

‘It’s show time’ I think to myself. I head back to my brother who’s finally starting to stir from the chloroform. I start slapping his face and he becomes more aware.

“Wake up Willy, Willy wake up.” I say playfully.

He looks confused, slowly recognizing me, his eyes bug out, then starts to struggle. “But you’re dead?”

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Don’t struggle bro, you’ll only hurt yourself.” I laugh at him.

“What’s going on Willy? Why are you in my clothes?”

“From now on, please call me Will and they’re now my clothes. I just got back from London and I’m really jet lagged.” I stand proudly, straighten my tie then reach into my breast pocket for my new wallet.

“Asshole, what do you think you’re doing?” he yells and gets pissed as he’s now fully awake.

“Well, remember when you planted drugs in my locker, turned me into the school principle and ruined my life?”

“Yeah, that was a good one! They all bought it too. Got rid of you for good.” He laughs.

“Well, laugh all you want. I’m borrowing your life.”

“You’ll never get away with this. Whatever you are planning, won’t work.” He predicts.

“Well I’m taking Lisa out to dinner tonight to celebrate my return. In other words, I need pussy but Will doesn’t talk like that. Let me rephrase it – I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner and hopefully make love to her. Better?” I leaf through my wallet checking it out, pulling out the debit card. “Bro, is your PIN still 8991? I may need some cash for my date. You only have a $40 in here.”

By the look on his face, I know he never changed is PIN. “Thanks bro, just needed to confirm that.”

“She’ll know you’re not me, don’t even try it.”

“Bro, you’re talking to the guy who fooled all your girlfriends in high school. You’ve been dating her for what? About 6 weeks after meeting her at Jen’s last party where you got wasted and don’t remember getting home.”

“You’ve been reading my private diary?”

“Well, you could say it’s my diary. So, I was just reviewing my life for the past few years.” I laugh at him. “Which brings me to a new issue – where should I take her for dinner, and do afterwards?”

“Fuck yourself.” He yells.

“Bro, I’m hoping to fuck her, not myself. You don’t want me to do something brash, ‘unWill like’ and ruin your relationship do you? I bet she doesn’t even know you have a twin brother, am I right?” I laugh at him.

“Willy, what are you doing? Just untie me and I’ll forget this ever happened. I promise.” Trying to soften me up.

“Let’s get this straight, for the time being, I’m Will Witt, you’re nothing, don’t call me that again.” I yell at him. “Now, you’re going to help me be you or I’m going to really fuck up your life. You know I can do it. If you lie to me, there will be repercussions. Do not test me.”

“Okay.” He responds defeated.

“Okay, what?” I demand.

“Okay Will. Lisa loves Italian and there’s this little family owned restaurant called ‘Papa Joe’s’ near her house. She loves it and so do I. That’s where I was planning on taking her tonight. I always get the ‘Lombardo’ dish with an ice tea of course.” He answers defeated.

“That’s good information bro, I really appreciate that.” I watch his face and have always been able to tell when he was lying. “What after that? What are her limits? I need everything to be you with her. Give me the full history.”

He proceeds to tell me everything I need to know about Lisa – at least I hope so.

“Now I need details about my job. I know where you work, and what you do but more details about the people, office layout, where your office is and how I get in?” He gives me looks that could kill. “What’s up guys?” I mock him with his catch phrase.

“My work ID badge gives me complete access anytime. It’s in the front pocket of my backpack. I have an office on the second floor, just left as you get out of the elevator. My name is on the door. You can’t miss it.”

“What do you do when you first get there, in the morning? Routine? Pals? Coffee? conference room? Where do you go for lunch? I need it all Willy. You don’t want me to mess up your perfect little life, do you?” I subtly threaten him.

Once I pump him for everything, I grab the bag from the corner, pull out a needle and inject him. He screams at me for about two minutes then become docile. I walk him to the bathroom and order him to relieve himself. Once secured back in his chair, I give him dose of Midazolam that will keep him out for 12 hours and put a ball gag in his mouth. I shut and lock the bedroom door, head back to my master bedroom finishing my unpacking.

I slip easily into Will’s routine. My shirts and suits will go to my cleaner per the receipts in the Porsche, the rest go into the washer. Carefully tucked inside his luggage is his new Saville Row Huntsman, a few new dress shirts and the Big Ben charm I bought Lisa in London. I can’t help but try on the new suit, admiring the fit and material. I head downstairs and see Will’s work backpack he has with him all the time. I take it down to the studio office and start going through the content…. A few cameras, my passport, iPad and MacBook Pro. There’s a printout of my next Prager assignments and hand notes he made in the margins. I find his work ID, clip it to my suit, repack his backpack and head to the office.

A DAY IN THE LIFE

I’ve followed Will to Prager U but have never stepped foot inside. I pull into an empty parking lot, and park in his assigned spot. Will says no one is ever there but he sometimes goes in to get a jump on Monday. My ID badge opens the main door. I easily find his office and make myself at home. On the wall I notice the signed photograph of Reagan that dad treasures and wonder how Will has it. I plop my backpack on the chair next to my desk and start exploring. I open my MacBook and it starts syncing with the LAN. I easily log in and upload my videos as Will does after all his events, according to his logs.

I explore the entire building and everything is as he described – Boss’ office, video production, media center, studio, executive conference room etc. I confidently walk around taking in the names of my coworkers. In the men’s room, I smile at Will in the mirror and clean out my coffee mug.

Back in the office, I settle into my desk and go thru my drawers, check my work email and respond to some. I hear someone coming up the stairs, calling my new name, approaching my office. I recognize it immediately as Will’s producer and friend – Mike.

“In here.” I yell out to him.

He pops his head around the corner. “Welcome back, how was your flight?”

“Uneventful, good to be home but jet lag.” I casually answer.

“My flight yesterday was delayed an hour from Chicago but not too bad.”

I heard their last conversation before Will took off this am, and continued it. “I’m good with the final edits from MOTS, just uploaded it so Alexander can add the graphics.”

I pull up the video, knowing Will made a few cuts on the flight over, and show it to him.

“You’ve been busy man, looks great. You want to grab lunch?”

“Sure, you drive and pick.” I can’t resist the thought of testing my ‘Will skills’.

Mike takes me to ‘In & Out’ for burgers. He doesn’t suspect a thing, readily accepting me as his friend and coworker. We talk about the trip, work and future trips. I feel as if I was actually there. He drops me off and I head back to my office and continue to familiarize myself with everything for a few more hours.

My big test will be ‘my’ girlfriend Lisa. I stay in Will’s slick outfit, donning his favorite Ray-Bans for the drive. She’s waiting for me outside and jumps into my car. Her unexpected full tongue kiss surprises me but I quickly adjust and give her full tongue back. We make out for a minute then I take her to Papa Joe’s. Will was telling the truth, Lisa lights up as I pull in front and valet the Porsche. I use my brother’s pics, diary, blogs and text messages to talk about my London trip. When desert comes, I spring the Big Ben charm on her. She leans in tenderly, kisses me deeply and invites me to spend the night.

At her place, we strip and jump right into bed. In minutes, she’s moaning as I work her pussy, slowly penetrating it with the tip of my head. She starts moaning softly ‘oh Will, oohhh Will’ making me harder, pushing deeper into her as she climaxes. I explode in her, then collapse onto my back as she curls up under my arm and we fall to sleep. She wakes me up with a blow job and homemade pancakes – Will’s favorite she notes. I’m not a big pancake fan but eat them eagerly as Will would. I’ve replaced Will completely and now have his sexy girlfriend.

DAY TWO

I check on Willy when I get home and he’s starting to stir. My schedule today calls for video editing at Prager U with Gavi and Mike. I take a quick shower put on an outfit that screams ‘preppy conservative’ – which isn’t difficult as that’s all Will has in his closet, making my job easy.

I pop my head in to the bedroom and see that he’s wide awake.

“Morning sunshine.” I cheerfully say.

“Let me the fuck out of these straps now!” he mumbles as I remove the ballgag.

“Sure thing, but first a little shot so you can take a dump and eat a little something. Hungry?”

“No, don’t drug me, it’s a fucking weird feeling.” He pleas.

“Sorry man, I can’t chance you getting free and having a fake Will running around.”

“You’re the fake Will, ass wipe.” He screams.

“Hmmm Lisa and Mike didn’t think so. I ran into Mike in the office yesterday while uploading my latest VLOG and MOTS video, then had lunch with him. He’s a good friend of mine. Oh, and Lisa… Damn did I hit her sweet spot last night as she moaned my name softly in my ears. She really loved the Big Ben charm I got her and the ‘Big Will’ I gave her. I think I’m in love bro.” I grab my crotch so he knows what I’m talking about.

“You fucking bastard!! Fucking asshole!! You’ll be caught. You can’t slip into my life that easily.” He screams.

“Now, now, Willy. Guess you didn’t notice the video and audio bugs I installed throughout my new condo or the keystroke tracker on your computers. I’ve been catching up with you since Stanford. Your condo manager was gracious enough to give me a key after you lost it.” I run and grab my iPad and play some of the videos for him, then I show him the cloned phone and play his last conversation with Mike.

“Guess I don’t need this cloned phone any longer. I have to admit, you’re quite the busy person. Your phone never stops ringing and beeping but don’t worry, I’m keeping up.”

“Fuck you Willy! When I get free, you’re going to jail or worst.”

“If you get free, which I doubt. If you haven’t noticed, you’re bolted to the floor. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll have new carpet installed at some point. Nice thing bro – between my bank account and yours, I’m quite wealthy with a lot of future potential. In fact, after this gig, I’m thinking of running for office. Dad would love it and back me financially.”

He mutters. “Fucker.”

“Hey bro, don’t worry, I’m taking good care of your life. Enjoying it immensely, especially Lisa. She really knows how to wake me up but I’m not big on the pancakes.”

He thrashes back and forth in the chair screaming more obscenities at me.

“Bro, seriously, how do I look? Do you approve my work outfit? I’ve noticed this sport coat is one of your favorites. Oh, and my new suit from London fits great and feels incredible. I just had to try it on.” I taunt him while adjusting my shirt sleeves and checking my watch.

“What are you doing here?” he quietly demands.

“Well the drug career pays quite well but is extremely dangerous. After seeing you at Stanford, I decided a career change was necessary. Don’t you agree it’s a good career move?”

“You’ll never fool them for long. There are things only I could know. You’ll tripped up. What about mom and dad?”

“Are you serious?” I laugh out loud. “Mom and dad could never tell us apart, you know that. I did visit the house while you were in London and from the pictures displayed, it looks like I, Will, am an only child. They’re the least of my worries.”

“Oh, they’ll know you’re not me.”

“Why would they? Just look at me bro. I was always a better you than you, when I wanted to be. I do have to get fully up to speed with my new life, friends and girlfriend but that’s what all my new drugs are for. I kind of like your style so I’ll only wear what you already have in your closet. I’m enjoying your preppy style. I think I’m rocking the Will look, you have to admit it.” I tug on my sleeves not interested in his rants.

“What about work?” He counters.

“Oh bro, that’ll be easy too. I’ve watched all your videos – the work and personal, edited and unedited. I taught myself iMovie to edit my MOTSs for uploading. I’ve seen you brainstorm with Mike on MOTS topics and question. It’s amazing how we even think alike politically. I’m ahead of schedule for today. Like the anal person you are, I was in the office all afternoon while you were sleeping. I cleaned out my scummy coffee mug, organized my desk and left a note for Alexander on the graphics I’d like to see before the end of today. I can’t wait to meet the boss, have been a fan of his for years.”

“You can’t be me!” He slumps his shoulder in deeper defeat.

“I am you, no one will have a clue I’m not.”

I inject him with truth serum and a powerful muscle relaxer. By the time I come back with breakfast, he’s docile and defeated. A few protein bars, quick trip to bathroom and he’s safely secured again. The truth serum is remarkable. I have a totally different discussion with him.

“Hey bro, how do I look? You like?” I spin around to model my outfit.

“I’ve worn that exact outfit before I think.”

“Thank you, now see, it wasn’t too hard to be nice, now was it?”

He spills his guts to me about all his coworkers, and what he thinks of them. While he’s drugged, I hit him up on family issues and his feelings towards me. He basically threatens to kill me and will since I’m already dead. It’s been on his mind since he woke up chained to the chair. I snicker to myself, knowing he’s the one who’s days are numbered. It’s almost time for work today, so I knock him out for another 12 hours.

My first day of work is a breeze. I visit Alexander and review the graphics I want. Mike and I review the schedule and brainstorm future MOTSs and VLOGs. Will has the easy part and probably makes the most money. Prager’s staff writes his MOTS questions and helps him with upcoming speeches. He provides the topic, they handle it from there. Will was good enough to do my outline for his University of Texas speech next week. I turn them in and talk to Marissa, our content producer. I have the best gig – I just need to be the hip preppy conservative face of Prager U and get to travel all around the world.

When I’m leaving Marrisa’s office, I run into Dennis Prager, the president of Prager University. He puts his arm around me and leads me back to his office.

“Will, good to see you, how was London? I just saw your rough video and it’s great”

“Thank you, Mr. Prager. London was great.” I respond and his face immediately looks puzzled.

“Since when am I Mr. Prager?”

“Dennis, sorry it just came out. I’m still out of sorts with jet lag and the British are so formal.” I try to recover.

“I understand boy, plus you probably had too much wine and cigars I’m sure.”

“I sure did. I brought a few Charatan Robustos back with me” I chuckle knowing their conversations about them and using them to solidify my identity.

“And you’re not sharing? Will, Will, Will, how could you?”

“I’ll bring them in tomorrow.”

“Let’s grab lunch son.”

I can’t believe I’m having lunch with Dennis Prager. He’s thrilled with ‘my’ work, wants me to do more TV appearances like Fox & Friends but also liberal networks. My ratings are through the roof. I talk about my London trip, showing him pics of my parents and selfies I took. We talk politics, going back and forth on issues. We get back to the office and I easily fit in and learn the ropes. By the end of the day, I’m very pleased with my new life. I pass on happy hour claiming I’m still of out sorts due to jet lag.

CHECKING IN

Back home I check Willy. He’s awake but groggy.

“What’s up guy? How was your day?” I ask cockily as I strut in.

“How do you think, you sick fuck.”

“So sorry to hear that. My day was awesome. My latest VLOG and MOTS are killing it. I had lunch with my friend Dennis and he wants me to do more TV spots. It was probably the best day of your life, I mean my life.”

“My life! You fucker, my life.” He screams with pure rage.

“Wow bro, you smell. We’ll have to get you a shower but first I need to change. Be right back.”

I run to my closet and throw on a pair of running shorts and a Prager t-shirt. I keep my cell phone on me as it’s been going off all day. When I get back to Willy, he starts yelling at me.

“What are you up to? Did you get me fired? The truth, you owe me that at least.”

I laugh. “Now why would I mess up my career bro?”

“It’s my life and career. You’re going to pay for this you fucking asshole.” He continues to rant.

“I’ve had enough of you already.” I grab the ball gag, shove it in his mouth and he starts thrashing again. My phone rings, it’s Mike calling.

“Hey Mike, What’s up?” Willy’s eye light up watching me.

“No, I’m fine, it was just jetlag and you know me…I tried all the beers and cigars in the pubs…Yeah buddy…thanks for your concern.” I hang up and look at Willy. “Hey that Jetlag excuse will be good for another few days till I get the groove completely.”

He starts mumbling again but the phone rings again with Lisa calling.

“Hey babe, how was your day?” I sincerely ask. Willy starts squirming and getting louder.

“Hey babe, hang on, I’ve got my producer calling.” I put her on hold, walk over to Willy and gut punch him with all my force. I impale him and he shuts up.

“Sorry babe, did I thank you for last night?...Oh yeah, I’d love to but I’ve got a lot to catch up with…My parents are coming back Wednesday from their European vacation and we’re suppose to do dinner Thursday? Would love for you to meet them….Okay… love ya.”

“Bro, see how easy this gig is for me? I still need you for some additional information like the combination to the safe in your office.” He stares at me but is keeping quiet. I grab my little box of drugs and mellow Willy out. A quick shower, shit and change of clothes and he’s back in his chair. I feed him a sub and water that he quickly inhales.

“Now Willy, what’s the number to my safe?”

“Go fuck yourself.” he mumbles.

“Willy, you know I could give you some truth serum or beat it out of you.”

“17858” he spits out as in disgust.

I head down to his safe and open it up. Inside is a gun, his birth certificate, social security card, and a stack of other seemingly important papers. I grab it all and take head up to review with Willy.

“Nice Glock Willy, let’s review what’s in my safe and why it’s there. Some quality bonding time. Most of this I know but the rest?” I ask nicely.

“My contract with Prager U, noncompete, mom & dad’s will, my will, some stocks dad gave me.”

I leaf through it, reading it all and ignoring Willy. In between docs, I feed him some granola bars from the kitchen. I play with the unloaded gun in front of him, on purpose. I’ll have a use for it soon.

“Ok brother, more work questions. There’s ‘PR shots’ on calendar for tomorrow afternoon. What’s with that?”

“Joel, our CMO set them up. It’s just ‘glamour’ pics for his new marketing campaign.”

“Oh, so that’s what my new suit is for I’m guessing. The email to Joel saying you’re all set after you bought it?”

“Yeah, please don’t fuck things up for me Willy. I’ve worked hard this past year.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m Will.” I gut punch him again.

“I’m sorry Will.” He cries in pain.

“That’s better Willy. So, tell me what to expect.”

“Easy, take suit to work, some of my shirts, ties and jewelry. Collette in our makeup will take care of the rest. Just smile and do what they tell you in front of the camera.” he answers, still in pain.

“Shoes?”

“The black derbies I had on yesterday, I bought for shoot specifically, wanted them broken in. Doesn’t matter though – they only shoot from waist up.”

“Now that’s more like it. Don’t fight me, help me so I don’t fuck up your life.” as if he’s ever getting it back, I think to myself.

“Yes Will.”

HANGING WITH FRIENDS

“Now, my friend Tommy wants to go out tonight, grab dinner. What would ‘Will’ do?”

“He wants to do 71Above – it’s the highest restaurant west of the Mississippi. Tricia, his friend is host there and can get us in. Very high end, suit and tie required.”

“That sounds great.”

“Yeah, he’s picking me up, I’m paying.”

“I’m paying!” I correct him. “What were you going to wear?”

“There’s a black Tom Ford suit with a red lapel pin on it, I’ve only worn it once for a few hours. White shirt and any tie.”

“Oh yes, my outfit from the Prager gala where I played ‘blue moon’ on the piano. What tie, what shirt?” I demand.

He looks at me shocked. “There’s a new gold paisley tie, white spread collar shirt with cufflinks.”

“Why thank you brother. I better go and get ready.” I shove another granola bar in his mouth.

I easily assemble the outfit he was going to wear. After all my spying, I’m sure I would have selected something as tasteful. I skip the gold paisley and decide on a ‘men in black’ look, almost exactly as he had on at the gala. A quick shower, 20 minutes with my hair and another 20 to dress and I’m still 36 minutes early for Tommy.

“How do I look Willy? Now be honest.” I ask walking into the bedroom.

He checks me out head to toe. “You look good Will. You’re wearing my good watch?”

“My good watch brother, remember? You wore your smaller ring at the gala but I stuck with what I had on coming back from London. I think I looks great. Went with the gold black onyx cufflinks. And dude I even had my name embossed inside the suit, sweet!” I open up my jacket.

“You’ve been watching my videos.” He realizes.

“Of course, and reading your diary, all the way back to when dad drove me to ‘New Starts’ and abandoned me. I’m good Willy, been watching you for a month.”

Just then my phone rings in breast pocket. I pull it out and see it’s Tommy.

“Now keep quiet Willy or you know what’ll happen.” I warn him as I answer. “What’s up Tommy? On your way…yeah early is good, I’m ready… Okay, that sounds good, see you soon.”

“Please don’t drug me bro, I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“Sorry Willy, can’t take any chances. Besides, Tommy mentioned about having a drink when he gets here. Sounds like it’s routine for you guys. What does he drink?”

“Rum and Coke, lots in the fridge just for him.”

I grab the knock out needle and give him a dose. He doesn’t fight me at all.

“Why thank you bro. I’ll see you later tonight maybe, if you’re awake.” I laugh as I leave and lock the door.

Tommy walks in without knocking, making his way to my bar as I make my way down the stairs. He sees me and lifts the glasses.

“The usual?”

“Sure, sounds good to me.” he’s right at home, grabbing the rum and coke.

“Cheers!” he hands me one, we clink glasses and swig.

I follow Tommy’s lead the entire evening but I know enough about Will to discuss his trip, girlfriend and work. Tommy talks about his auditions for a few movies and a commercial. Sadly for him, I’m a bigger celebrity than he is, as a few people ask for my autograph while waiting to be seated. Tricia has seats for us right next to the window with the best view of LA. It a fun night as a few of Tricia’s friends join us. It’s easy playing Will and his friends. I have everything put on my tab. Thank god he has an early audition for a new Marvel movie, so we leave and I’m home by midnight.

MORE WORK

I’m up early but Willy is out cold still. He looks like death, probably from all the injections and being upright on the chair for days. Not that I really care as it gives me more ‘Will Time’. To keep in character, I put on some of his work out gear, grab my iPod and do my usual run around the park. I work up quite the sweat but it probably helps with all the alcohol Tommy and I consumed. I check on Willy and he’s now awake and not happy. A quick injection allows me to get him relieved and toss him in the shower. He’s not putting up any resistance so I give him breakfast, leave him in the tub but making sure to securely handcuff him to a grip bar. I take my morning shower in the same shower so I can keep an eye on him.

Willy is so beaten that he’s stopped resisting completely and is cooperative even. Believing that by helping me, I’ll get what I want from him and leave him to his old life. What he’s doing is sealing his fate faster. Once I no longer need him, we’ll head up to my parent’s cabin in the mountains and he’ll be fertilizer.

After I towel off, I sit on the toilet seat next to Willy.

“How you feeling Willy?” I ask trying to sound concerned.

“Please Will, can I stay here in the tub all day? I promise I’ll be good.”

“I think I can do that but you have to be knocked out. But sure thing. Tommy is a fun guy bro. He sure loves his rum & cokes. We had a blast. I think he was hurt that women were coming up to me for my autograph but not him.”

“Yeah, that’s happened before when we’re out.” He looks really down.

“What is it bro? you look sad.”

“What do you think? I’m chained up and I can’t believe people are falling for your act.” he gets a little feisty.

“Come on bro, how could they not think I was anybody but Will Witt? Don’t worry, no one suspects a thing, so we’re good but I need your help with today’s schedule – sorta of ‘what would Will do’ session just to make sure I don’t fuck anything up for you. Okay?”

“Sure Will, it’s what I live for.” he responds sarcastically.

“How do you come up with the topics for your MOTSs?”

“Who do you think? Dad, you know how opinionated he is. When we had dinner in London, he rattled off six topics for me to cover and things he’d ask these snowflakes.”

“Ah I thought you sounded a lot like dad when interviewing people. That explains the notes on your iPad. By the way, I’m having dinner with the rents Friday night, having them meet Lisa.” I just smile at him. “Now about today’s pics, what should I wear? ‘What would Will wear’?”

“We’ve been through this – my new bespoke suit.”

“Exactly what you’d wear today – into the office and for the shoot. I’m just trying to help you Willy.”

“Dennis is always pushing for me in more suits and ties, to be taken more seriously outside the campus forum. Keep it simple – black button down shirt, my charcoal brooks brothers suit. For the shoot, the bespoke of course and take all my new dress shirts and ties, many pairs of cufflinks. I love my gold paisley tie, the one you wore last night. Hopefully you didn’t ruin it.”

“No, I went with a black tie, so the paisley is fine.”

“There’s a large suit bag in the back of my closet that can hold everything you’ll need.’

“I have to tell you bro, I’m gaining a real appreciation for your closet. My tastes have really matured in the past months. What’s with the glasses though?”

“They’re for eye strain bro, giving my eyes a break now from the contact lenses. I also wear them for important interviews or meetings where I want to look more mature and smarter.”

“Well your glasses and contacts work great for me too. My eyes have been changing but I never had them checked. Now, what about the shoot? Who’s going to be there? How does it work? What does Will do?” I press him.

“It’s a larger version of my down stair studio. Someone will come get me when it’s my turn, take me to changing room, then make up, then to the set – green screen. It’s easy really. There’ll be people in and out all day long.”

“People like who?”

“Candace, Charlie Kirk, Dave Rubin, Guy Benson and many others. It’ll be a few days of craziness.”

“Nice! Do I have any nicknames or personal things with any of them? Like, how do you address Candace? or Charlie?” He stutters and hesitates. “Spill it or more drugs. Besides, you don’t want me to fuck up anything with your friends now do you?”

“Candace is ‘Candy’ jokingly, she’s getting married in a few weeks.” He continues with the others. I’ll use the information but it sounds childish – something a more mature, evolving Will would never use. I’ll phase that nonsense out.

“Good to know. Thanks. I’ve got to get ready for work.” I grin at him.

Dennis Prager alluded to my evolving image during lunch and that I should be wearing more conservative outfits. I agree completely with the boss and love the image. With that in mind, I ignore Willy’s suggestion and go ultra conservative. I remember a beautiful light blue shirt with white contrasting collar and cuffs that ‘I’ve’ worn a few times. It would be ultra conservative with my gray Brooks.

In Will fashion, I lay out my work outfit on the bed, adding all the details. When I’m satisfied, I pull it on my underwear and socks, pull on my pants. After I add the belt, I pull on the Brooks shirt. To keep with the Brooks theme, as Will likes to do, I select the Brooks tie that he wore previously. The whole image screams ultra conservative and looks great. I add white gold cufflinks, his smaller ring and gold watch. I pull on the jacket and stare at myself in the mirror. I put some gel in my hair then fix it exactly as in the pic I found in an old MOTS video. Oh, almost forgot my tie clip. He’s famous on Instagram for his tie clips? I clip one on and it completes my image. I flash a Will smile and fingers. “What’s Up Guys?”.

I must have nailed the look because when I entered the toilet, Willy’s mouth dropped. In the bathroom mirror, I admire myself, tug on my cuffs and adjust my tie. I don’t say a word.

“Well aren’t you Will Witt.” He comments snidely but I ignore him for a few more minutes as I run my hand thru my hair.

“Who else would I be?” I turn around to face him. “What’s Up Guys, Will Witt for Prager U.” flash my peace sign to him, pretending I’m holding a microphone.

“Probably a better choice for today. No pocket square Will?”

“Oh shit, totally didn’t notice.”

“In drawer under jewelry box.” He answers me without even asking. I run to his closet, find a nice silk white one neatly folded in a square. I tuck it in my suit pocket and check myself out in the mirror quickly.

“Better?” He’s silent.

I pull out his preppy glasses and put on and off. “Glasses, no glasses?” I look at him.

“I don’t care, up to you.”

“Know what, think I’ll have pics taken both ways. I think they make me look older, which would kill my ‘frat boy’ image on college campuses but might help me with the older generation.” I turn to look at his expression but he looks broken. “I love this suit bro, it fits me great. I made sure the knot was right by noting the length of the tie, and location of stripes. Not used to wearing one, almost forgot the tie clip – my fans would have blown up over such a faux pas.”

“True, they watch everything I post.”

“Ok bro, I need to get to work, busy day ahead. I’ll probably be late tonight because Mike wants to do Furley’s for happy hour. I’ll let you in the bathtub so you’re comfortable but how about something to help you sleep?”

“No don’t do that please, I’ll be good.” He begs.

I ignore him, grab the needle and knock him out for the day.

I jump in my 911 and head in for another day in the life of Will Witt. The suit bag weighs about 30lbs and takes up the entire seat of my 911. Everyone accepts me and I keep learning more and more. The lingo is coming naturally to me. The routine of emails, small talk and understanding my role is easy.

I hang my suit bag and jacket on the back of my office door, grab my coffee mug and ease into the day. Just before lunch, Nicki, one of the film staff comes for me – it’s my turn. I’m seated in in one of the dressing rooms, in a makeup chair, in front of the mirror. Collette comes in all smiles.

“Will, you’re looking great.”

“You too, so let’s get started. I’ve got a lot to do today on top of these pics.”

“There’s something we’d like to do different this time.”

“Oh yeah? That sounds ominous.”

“Well, how about we cut your hair some?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that Collette, it’s my signature, my “conservative with the best hair”.” Sounding uncertain for effect.

“Well, I was talking to Dennis and Joel, and we feel you should be the focus, not your hair. We’re not talking about shaving your head, just toning down the cowlick some. If you don’t like, it’ll be back in a few months.”

I think about it for a minute, running my hand through my cowlick, looking at Will in the mirror. I’ve seen videos where the wind destroys his giant flop, part of his gig but in the end, I nod in approval and let Prager U redo my image.

The ‘Will’ PR shoot was so simple, but time consuming. They brought in some famous stylist from West Hollywood to cut my hair – it took an hour! They went through my suit bag and laid out a number of outfits but didn’t question my taste. They took multiple pics of me in 5 different outfits including what I wore in this morning. I was there for hours. At the end of the day, we head to Furley’s as planned for happy hour. I left on my new suit and last outfit I was photographed in. What a happy hour – hanging with Charlie Kirk, Ben Shapiro and other famous conservatives was incredible. Thanks to Will’s unedited interview videos, I knew exactly what small talk he had with a number of these conservative celebrities and played them perfectly.

When I get home, my first stop is to taunt Willy still tied up in bathtub.

“Hey bro, this suit is simply amazing. You were right, the shoot was really easy, except for having to change every 20 minutes. Like my haircut?” I tease

“What did you do to my hair?”

“Willy, remember, it’s my hair. It’s a shorter, more mature, conservative cut. Everyone loves it. I still have the best hair of any conservative. I texted it to mom and she loves it too.” I open up the iPhone and scroll thru pics from the shoot, then laugh and leave to change into sweats. Following the same routine, I inject Willy, help him to bathroom, feed him and put him to bed. In just a few days, he’s totally changed from being in control to being dependent. He’s definitely a shadow of himself but I’m now casting his shadow.

Every day as Will gets easier as I seamlessly take over his life. I’m sure I’ve slipped up a few times but since no one knows Will has a twin, who would suspect me? Wednesday at work was incredible. I helped with the rest of the PR shoot, chatted with all of my new conservative friends. I especially liked talking to Dave Rubin and Candace Owens. I had dinner with everyone that evening and it went really late. By the time I got home, Willy had wetted himself. I was so pissed that I shoved a hot pocket in his mouth, hosed him off and drugged him heavily.

On Thursday Gavi and I do a man on the street, at Santa Monica Pier. I nailed it – quickly picking up Will’s attitude and methods. It was easy after watching all his videos from the past year. Back in the office I sit down with Gavi, edit his video and work with Alexander to add the graphics.

Willy is awake when I get home. His eyes scan me from top to bottom then he starts yelling through the ball gag.

“Hang on Willy.” I pop out the ball gag.

“I hate you Willy and I’m done playing your game.” He spits and hits me on my shorts.

I gut punch him with all my force, then inject him to keep him docile. “Now Willy, we’ll get you on the potty and fed quickly. I don’t have a lot of time, Lisa and I are going to dinner at mom and dad’s. I really like her.”

I get Willy settled, take a quick shower and head out to pick up Lisa. Dinner is a breeze as Lisa is the center of attention. There’s no discussion of Willy at all – just about me and how proud they are of everything I’m doing. As I expected, they were totally clueless I wasn’t their precious little Will. I have to admit, it felt great being home. I showed Lisa my old bedroom and got a BJ on Will’s bed. It was like old times, like his other girlfriends I fooled. Mom and dad announced they’re heading to Hawaii to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary and ask me to watch the house while they’re gone. More time to get reacquainted with my new life as their loving son Will. I spend the night at Lisa’s but get up early to take care of things at home, then work.

Willy is awake and pissed more when I check in on him.

“Morning Willy.” I cheerfully announce.

“You’re Willy asswipe.” He yells back.

I gut punch him with all my force. “Don’t make me repeat myself Willy, now who am I?”

“You’re Will, Will Witt.” He’s barely able to speak, I hit him so hard.

“Now that’s much better Willy. Let’s get you to the bathroom and fed.” I inject him and continue talking while it takes effect.

“So, mom and dad love Lisa bro. I think she’s really falling for me. She gave me a BJ in my old bedroom. Sadly, your old bedroom is now a workout room with no trace of you at all. I showed Lisa my swimming and track trophies, tried on my old letterman jacket and gave her the whole Will Witt history. Can you believe mom and dad are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary? I can’t!” I lay it on thick as the caring son that Will is.

“Fuck off.” The mumbles.

“Oh Willy, don’t make me hurt you more.” I warn him. I can see the drugs have kicked in, and start untying him. Just as I loosen the last night, Willy tries a fast one on me, trying to tackle me to the floor. I’ve wrestled him too many times and know his ‘plays’ and another gut punch and I’m dragging him into the bathroom. A quick shower, shit and breakfast bar and he’s good for another 12 hours.

Once he’s secured, I jump in shower and prep for another day in the office. Fridays are so routine with a team strategy meeting for upcoming projects/videos/content. This is followed by lunch and office time till happy hour at Furley’s. After happy hour, I meet Lisa and a bunch of her friends out for more drinks and dancing, then back to her place.

END OF THE ROAD

I’m up early and skip out of Lisa’s, telling her I have some chores to do for my parents and I’ll be tied up all weekend. Willy is awake and thrashing about trying to get loose. I enter the bedroom smiling, and clap my hands.

“Willy, good news! Road trip bro! We’re going to the cabin to take care of some things for Dad. I thought you’d enjoy it.”

He stares at me, blood shot eyes, a week of facial hair, looking like crap. “Good, could I sleep in one of the bunk beds?”

“Sure thing bro, then we’ll talk about next steps here.” He calms down, feeling better, probably thinking he’s getting his life back. He’s not.

I drug him, give him a shower, get him dressed and fed. The next morning, I get him ready for 4 hour trip to the cabin. The dosage I gave him should keep him out for most of the trip. I pack some clothes and fishing gear in case I get the urge. We leave at 5am to avoid any traffic.

He sleeps the entire journey and I don’t stop once. I’m careful to drive the speed limit to not attract any attention from state police. I pull up to the cabin before 9am. There’s no one around, no one on the lake even – all peaceful and quiet. With Willy securely tied up in the car, I walk around the cabin inspecting the place, reminiscing about our family outings and fishing trips. In the rear about 500 feet from the house is an old well that’s been dry for years. Dad has been talking about filling it in for safety for years, but never did. It’s the perfect place to hide a body.

When I get back to the car, Willy is stirring. I help him out of the car and walk him inside the cabin.

“Will, untie me please. My arms and wrists are killing me.” He pleas.

“Sure thing.” Knowing he’s drugged still and couldn’t run anywhere or harm me.

We walk out to the back porch and I hand him a coke and sandwich. He sits on the step eating and enjoying the partial view of the lake. I laced the coke with enough fentanyl to kill him – he’ll just pass out and die peacefully.

“So what’s the plan Will? I guessing this is it for me. Am I right.” As he takes a large chug of the coke.

“Yeah that’s about it Willy. You won’t feel a thing though, you’ll just fall asleep. Hope you enjoyed the coke, no after taste?”

“Nah, it tasted fine. You know I need a few cokes a day to keep the energy up.”

“Yeah, it’s a habit I’ve had to adopt. You know Willy, I’ve always been a better you and this life is perfect for me. Don’t worry, I love my new life and have seamlessly integrated into it. I’ll take good care of it.”

He’s in a daze now, the drug is kicking in. I help him up and over to an Adirondack chair near the fire pit. He puts his head back and starts breathe erratically. Within minutes he stops breathing. I waste no time stripping and dumping him in the well. I grab a shovel and start shoveling dirt into the well until I can’t see any evidence. For good measure I add another foot of dirt on top of that.

I’m exhausted after that, take a shower and dress in clean clothes. In town I grab a bite at Palmer’s diner – a dive with good food. As I’m sitting there finishing up with a piece of Apple pie, Rob Decker, an old friend of me and Will come up to me. He’s a local who owns a few small businesses, most inherited from his father.

“Will! How are you man? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” He grabs my hand and shakes it hard.

“Rob, good to see you! Dad asked me to check on the cabin and I needed a break from LA. I’m heading back to tomorrow.”

“Dude, got your gear?”

“Of course, was going to try the old creek before heading home.”

“I’ll join you, heck, even Tommy will go. He’ll be thrilled to see you. He was talking about your videos on Facebook.”

“Sound great Rob, stop by tomorrow morning whenever.”

Back at the cabin, I start a campfire and relax. Once it’s burning good, I grab Willy’s clothes and toss it all in. I have an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and freedom now. I have a few beers and watch the fire slowly burn out. Sunday morning Rob and Tommy show up at 6am. They don’t even mention my brother Willy even though we were all friends growing up. We have a blast and they want to come to the big city and party with me soon.

I fly back late Sunday afternoon and clean up my condo – unmounting the chair, smoothing over the holes in my carpet, cleaning the bathroom and tossing out the rest of Willy’s clothes. I call Lisa and invite her to my place tomorrow night for dinner and love making.

Monday morning I’m in full Will Witt mode. I wake up and take my run, shower and fuss with my hair for 20 minutes. In keeping with Dennis’ wishes, I up my conservative appearance to match my new haircut. My new bespoke Saville Row suit anchors my identity as the only Will Witt. It’s teamed with my favorite blue Brooks Brothers shirt with white contrasting cuffs and collars. I pair it with my new shoes and favorite tie I’ve worn a few times. Joel loves my new attitude and appearance. At lunch, I pull a typical Will move – I escape to a nearby restaurant, hang out and work on my schedule as is habit.

Life is great now. I have tons of friends and fans. Prager U is very lucrative and I’m in demand across the US and world for speaking appearances. No one suspects I’m not Will. I love the notoriety and acceptance. I even love my preppy wardrobe and new style. It’s grown on me and I’ll maintain it.

#twin #imposter #transformation #revenge #straight sex #stolen identity #evil twin #twin swap

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.13 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Finally some answers! It's just a shame they aren't for the questions Stretch already had.

Read ‘Neverland’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

If he were asked, Stretch would be the first to admit he was probably not the greatest influence out there for anyone. When he was younger, he’d tried his best for Blue’s sake at least; he worked two jobs, he made sure the laundry was done so Blue could wear clean clothes for school and all that. But as Blue got older and more able to help out, a lot of that shit fell off to the wayside into apathy. Until they got to the surface, anyway, but whatever efforts he’d made to get his life on track in the Aboveground took a sad detour back to wallowing in misery a few months back.

That said, Stretch tried not to be a complete asshole at any given time, but damn if living in Backwater wasn’t putting his manners to the test, because the predominant phrase running through his mind right now as he stared at the older ‘Chara’ clone was, ‘what in the name of holy blue fuck?’.

At least he managed not to say it, but then, he also didn’t manage to say anything else. Instead of a ‘hi’ or a ‘how ya doin’ or even a ‘so, how about those dodgers’ for the smiling Human in front of him, all Stretch did was gape, his bike engine idling and his mouth hanging open in an invitation to any circling flies in search of a new home.

His luck was leaning towards good today, insect-wise, since none took the invite, and all the Human did was smile wider, their eyes crinkling as they held out their hand and said, with a certain slyness, “Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”

Stretch knew before he even shook their hand what was coming. Mostly, anyway, turned out to be a whoopie cushion hidden in the palm rather than the joy buzzer Stretch was so fond of. But he knew, this was his gag, and still he hastily switched off the engine and reached over. He took their hand in a daze and the rubbery wheeze of a fake fart as their palms met made the Human laugh in delight.

“Still works,” they said gleefully. The Human held up the little whoopie cushion before tucking it into their pocket, leaving aside humor for sincerity. “I have so wanted to meet you.”

“me?” Stretch said blankly. Not exactly showcasing his brilliance, there, but he couldn’t seem to stop staring. That familiar, cherubic smile was so strange when it was on another face. Of all the things he’d seen so far in Backwater, this was, by far, the last he’d ever expected, and that was including the damn corn.

“Oh, yes, Edge has told me all about you,” they said, rocking on their heels. From the neck down, the resemblance took a little detour. No striped shirt here and instead of the green Chara favored, they wore blue. A subtle difference, but one that Stretch latched onto gratefully, along with what they said next. “My name is Frisk.”

“frisk,” Stretch repeated. He felt like a living echo, but that name seemed somehow familiar, niggling at the back of his mind. Eh, didn’t matter, the important thing was that it wasn’t ‘Chara’, ‘cause his mental capacity for accepting the weird was teetering on the brink of overload.

Their mouth twitched again into a smile. "You're wearing my old helmet."

"oh. oh!” Stretch slapped a hand on top of his head and nearly impaled it on a cat ear. Hastily, he started working on the buckle. “uh. sorry about that.”

"No, it's cute,” Frisk said cheerfully. “Red wouldn’t let me ride my bike without it, either.” Stretch could only blink at them, still waiting on an internal reboot, here, and the Human’s mouth twisted wryly. "It’s okay. The resemblance is uncanny, I know. We saw it all on television when it happened a few years ago. Chara, the human who brought Monsters back to the surface. Red thought it was all very funny, but his sense of humor is rather questionable on a good day."

On television? But…how…? Weakly, Stretch said, "i don't understand."

“I know," Frisk said. Their eyes darkened with sympathy. "And I doubt very much that Edge or Red explained." They sighed with fond irritation, "All these years living here, and Edge still loves his puzzles. Never a straight answer if he can twist it around for someone to solve. Red is just a shit. Come on,” they jerked their chin towards the cabin. “Edge is around back.”

Frisk turned and started back up the winding path, bare feet light on the flat stones. Stretch realized he was still straddling his bike and hastily put down the kickstand before following. Okay, so, no Red Riding Hood today, he was more like a Lost Boy and if Peter Pan swooped down right now with Tinkerbell sparkling at his feet, he was gonna swat them both down.

“wait!” he called. Frisk paused and turned around, their expression questioning as Stretch jogged to catch up, trying not to stumble over his untied shoelaces. “you…you’re edge’s roommate, right?”

Frisk considered that and nodded. “That’s as good a word as any.”

“right.” Okay, yeah, he would have felt pretty damn guilty about his frequent admiration of Edge’s hips if it weren’t for Red assuring him Edge wasn’t in a relationship. Roommates, not ‘roommates’, finger quote-slash-finger quote. He was losing the thread, though, and he wanted to pick it back up before it unraveled completely. “look, i’m supposed to be here to ask you about edgar allen.”

“I know,” Frisk smiled again and a pair of dimples peeked out. Now that he was past the initial shock, he could see a splash of freckles on their nose, another little difference distancing them from Chara that was a relief to see. “I’ll explain everything in due time. Come on.” They dashed away again, and all Stretch could do was follow.

In due time, right, he’d been waiting for anyone around here to pay their dues for days, give him some straightforward answers, and it seemed like the only thing he ever got was another winding road.

He’d been doing pretty good about cutting back on the cigarettes, but today Stretch would have maimed someone’s uncle for a full pack and a half an hour to work his way through ‘em, one after another.

Frisk led the way behind the house and as Stretch stepped around the corner, he stopped to stare at the view. It opened up into a clearing that was filled with huge garden spreading out in a chaotic sort of order; beds of bright flowers, rows of different veggies and berries, baskets hanging between them with leafy tendrils spilling out. Parts of it already looked like they were winding down for the summer, like the rows of truly enormous sunflowers skirting the garden, their bright petals already withering and their broad faces gone to seed, heralds to the upcoming change of season.

It was incredible, it was insane, how…?

“how does all this grow in the woods?" Stretch asked wonderingly, to no one in particular. “how do you grow sunflowers without sun?” Some light filtered in through the heavy canopy of branches overhead, sure, but the overwhelming appearance was one of shade. Stretch didn’t know shit about gardening, but this wasn’t exactly his idea of a great place to set one up.

Obviously, someone forgot to tell these plants, it sure wasn’t stopping them.

“They aren’t sunflowers. Not exactly.”

It wasn’t Frisk’s voice and Stretch startled, turning to see Edge kneeling close by in the dirt by another row, briskly picking handfuls from the low plants. There was a basket next to him half-filled with green pods, beans or peas, he wasn’t sure which, and that was where it stayed because it wasn’t the gardening that Stretch was interested in anyway. He promptly forgot about sunflowers, beans, peas, Peter Pan, everything, and stood mutely watching Edge work.

Somehow, he always managed to forget in between seeing him how damned attractive Edge was. Even in shabby working clothes, the underarms of his t-shirt damp with sweat and wearing a pair of dirty flower-patterned garden gloves, he was a hell of a snack pack. All those baggy clothes did was cloak what he knew they concealed, hinting at what lay beneath with a suggestion that unwrapping would reveal delightful surprises and��

Yeah, okay, he was gonna stop that line of thought right there. He was here for a reason and it wasn’t to ogle at Red’s little bro.

Then all his good intentions took a spin down the drain as Edge looked up at him and smiled. Not a scowl, which wouldn’t have surprised him, not a smirk, which was to be expected, but an honest-to-angel smile. Like he was actually glad to see him and the little throb in Stretch’s battered soul didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should.

“So, you’ve finally arrived,” Edge said. He went back to his picking, didn’t seem to notice the way Stretch’s eye lights kept trying to drift down to where his shirt was riding up at the back.

“looks that way.” Stretch tore his gaze from Edge and took the safer route of glancing around at the garden again. “took longer than i thought it would. this place could use a yellow brick road.”

"That seems like it would invite tornados,” Edge said dryly, “and we see enough trouble."

Trouble? That didn’t seem right. How much trouble could show up on their doorstep out here in the boonies. Then again, probably better to just roll with it, for all he knew there were bears out here or monsters with a lowercase ‘m’. Fuck it, could even be monster bears, who knew? It would sure explain why everyone said to keep on the path.

So, Stretch let that be and asked instead, “your bro didn’t give you a heads up that i was coming?”

“No.” And there was a touch of the sourpuss he knew and lo—liked. Edge slithered on down the row and attacked the pods on those plants, adding them in to his basket. “While I at least attempt to keep my brother apprised of any situations in town, he tends to side with the element of surprise.”

From out of nowhere, the Human appeared. They marched right up to Edge and smacked him lightly on the back of the skull and Stretch nearly jumped himself; he’d just about forgotten about them completely despite them being the entire reason behind his visit. Yep, that was the only reason he was here, to ask about Edgar Allen, and he damn well needed to remember that.

“Oh, stop it!” Frisk scolded, “You and your brother, and your petty squabbles! You were just as bad yourself when we were still Underground, always had to play up the puzzles.”

Edge made a show of rubbing his skull, as if that little smack even hurt. His mouth twitched in an almost-smile, and it wasn’t as nice as the one earlier, but it still made Stretch melt a little inside. “That is possible,” he allowed.

“Good. You behave. Now,” Frisk turned back to Stretch and said brightly, “Come inside, we’ll talk over dinner.”

Uh.

Frisk started towards the house and Edge got to his feet, basket in hand, to follow them. Stretch hung back, suddenly wary of going into the gingerbread house. He knew all the stories about spiders and flies, and what happened in their parlors, thanks, and before Frisk could disappear inside, Stretch called, weakly, "i really only came out here to ask about edgar allen."

They hesitated at the open door and from the glint in their eyes, they had an inkling of what Stretch was thinking about. “I know. And Edge set you on a quest to find me so you can ask,” they laughed delightedly, “The phone book was a nice touch.”

"you know about that?” Stretch blurted, “so you’ve known i wanted to talk to you?”

They nodded. “Of course, Edge tells me everything.”

“so why didn't you come into town to see me?!"

Their sudden mischievous smile only made them look even more like Chara. "And spoil his fun?"

Frisk went inside, the door swinging shut behind them. Edge stayed outside, his basket of beans-or-peas balanced on his hip. He arched a browbone and asked, “Are you coming or not?”

Stretch wavered, scuffing his feet against the stone path, both tempted and wary, and before he could make a choice, his magic decided for him. They didn’t have stomachs, actually, but it didn’t stop their magic from imitating one for him, letting out a growl that was a reminder that the lunch Red packed him was still stashed away in his bag uneaten.

That earned him a low chuckle and the melted chocolate of Edge’s voice didn’t help his growling not-belly one damn bit. Edge tilted his head towards the door in invitation, “Come on, it’s dinner time and I can’t bear to let moronic creatures starve. You can help me cook.”

“uh.” Leaving aside the whole moronic thing (he’d probably earned it at some point, anyway), now might be the time to bring up an important fact. “i should warn you ahead of time, i’m not much of a chef.”

Edge only nodded, sighing deeply, “Of course. I should have suspected that looks aside, you were my brother’s doppelgänger rather than mine.”

“what?” How was it this guy could be so unfairly hot and so damned confusing at the same time? “what does that even mean?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

Stretch only crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “ain’t gonna get easier if you don’t start.”

Edge made an impatient sound, “Come inside and we will. Stretch,” his voice went lower, gentle, “Backwater can be unnerving, I know this, but you’re safe here. I would never let anything hurt you in my home.”

Yeah, okay, that was seriously unfair, like Edge was speaking directly to his nerves, reassuring him with honeyed promises and damned if Stretch didn’t believe him. Worse, he wanted to believe him.

He still hung back uncertainly, and one corner of Edge’s mouth quirked up as he added, “Besides, my brother would never forgive me if I let anything happen to his best salesperson.”

That burst the tension hanging in the air and Stretch snorted loudly, “that ain’t saying much, I’ve seen firsthand how red runs the store.”

With a last nervous glance at the garden/woods behind him, Stretch finally followed. He hoped he at least lived to regret it.

~~*~~

An hour later, Stretch was feeling pretty stupid about his little moment of panic. For one, sitting in their kitchen peeling carrots was probably the most normal thing he’d done since he’d gotten here. No ghosts popping out from the walls, nothing coming alive that shouldn’t to say hi. The most complicated thing he had to do was make sure the peelings ended up in the trash bin rather than on the floor and even that he got right at least ninety percent of the time.

Stretch wasn’t entirely incapable of cooking. It was only that his bro enjoyed it so much more than him that he didn’t bother and when he did, the words ‘instant’ or ‘microwave’ were usually involved in some capacity.

He spent the rest of his focus on covertly watching his hosts. Frisk and Edge moved around the kitchen and each other easily, they’d obviously been roomies for some time. They laughed, they teased, made stupid in-jokes that Stretch longed to understand, and Stretch only sat back and watched them. To be honest, there was something a little unnerving about their homey domestication. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting, for sure.

Or maybe he was just a little homesick. In spite of Red’s mothering, he was starting to miss his brother’s care and concern, a little. Probably better to not think of that and Stretch swapped out his peeled carrots for the basket of what he was assured were definitely peas, working on shelling them into another bowl.

The outside of the house might be more wicked witch in the woods, but the inside was more traditional in an airy open floor plan. From his spot in the kitchen, he could see the living room with large, comfy sofas positioned in front of a pretty damn nice television.

There were also several crowded bookshelves and a few cabinets against the walls, each one filled with an impressive collection of action figures and the glass meticulously polished. Pictures on the wall, some of Edge and Frisk, a few more than included Red, along with artwork, pretty landscapes that might well be visible from their front door.

All it all it was simply…normal. Not a single cauldron or any eye of newt in sight, and Stretch could’ve been doing the same thing back in Ebott except for the fact that this Human wasn’t Chara and Edge wasn’t…yeah.

Once the prep was done, dinner didn’t take long to get on the table. Soon they were all sitting with a bowl and if Stretch was a little dubious about the unknown dish set in front of him, all his worries vanished with the first bite.

He was getting used to the tasty food that Edge brought to the shop a couple times a week; Red was always willing to share and now that he thought about it, either Edge always included extra for leftovers or he’d started packing more so that both of them could have enough tasty goodness. Stretch wasn’t sure which was true, but he knew which one he hoped it was.

This, though, this was something entirely else, so much more than simple, tasty nourishment. Cheesy grits with a vegetable medley and a poached egg on top, that’s what Frisk introduced the dish as, but that description couldn’t truly explain the taste. How the fresh peas were buttery sweet, the carrots sweet and crisp, the way the egg yolk burst open when his fork pierced it, the bright, rich yolk dripping down to coat everything in reach with deliciousness. Stretch had to resist the urge to shovel it into his mouth, forcing himself to chew it slowly and didn’t regret it, groaning aloud around his mouthful, it was so damned good. His brother wasn’t a bad cook, but it was like comparing a bowl of oatmeal to a full breakfast platter, there was no comparison.

Stretch took another huge bite, moaning again as he hit the creamy, cheesy goodness of the grits. He looked up and paused mid-chew, to see both Edge and Frisk staring at him.

“hrmmm?” Neither of them replied to his not-a-question and Stretch awkwardly swallowed down his too-large mouthful before trying again, “what?” He grabbed a napkin and wiped at his face, but it came away clean.

“Nothing,” Edge said finally. There was a faint flush of redness high on his cheekbones, for no good reason Stretch could figure, not with the way the air conditioning was blasting out. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to his own bowl. “It’s only nice to see someone enjoying my cooking so thoroughly.”

Frisk only offered a frustratingly Mona Lisa sort of smile and dug in, the three of them eating in silence, aside from Stretch’s occasional happy groans.

Once the bowls were scraped clean, Frisk pushed theirs aside and announced, “All right, then, if I’m going to explain, I think it’s best to start at the beginning.” Frisk slanted a questioning look at Edge. “If that’s all right?”

“Why are you asking me?” Edge stood to clear away the dishes, carrying the stack to the sink. “It’s your story.”

“Because you’re in it.”

Stretch could only sit there, trying not to squirm with impatience as Edge thought that over, rinsing the bowls before stacking them into the dishwasher. “Tell him,” he said. “Mysteries are one thing, but I don’t care for lies.”

Frisk smiled, their eyes gone memory-dark. “I know. All right, then!” They clapped their hands together lightly and Stretch settled in for what he hoped was a damned good story.

“I’m from Backwater originally,” Frisk began, “but I didn’t live here my entire life. When I was a child, my parents died. I ended up going to Ebott to live with relatives and it was—” They frowned, teeth grinding briefly as if they were chewing on the words, managing only a curt, “Unpleasant.” Frisk took a long, slow breath and went on, “One day I simply had enough and ran away. All the way up Mount Ebott and that is where I fell into the Underground.”

Stretch didn’t say anything, but his expression must’ve given him away, or maybe his hands, his joints nearly creaking as he clasped them tightly together. He knew this story, nearly this exact story, told to him by a child who right now should be safely living back in Ebott with their adopted father.

Frisk’s mouth twitched in an almost smile. “No, not your Underground. Theirs. Red and Edge’s.”

Stretch glanced at Edge. He was still washing the cooking pans, pink rubber gloves incongruous against the pale of his bones, but the tilt of his head indicated he was listening. Realization was dawning with glacial slowness; a pair of skeleton brothers in the Underground coming to the surface along with a Human child. He knew this story because it was his own, and more than that.

“you’re talking about the multiverse,” Stretch said slowly.

Of course. He could have slapped himself silly for his stupidity. He’d never even considered their situation might be similar; the age differences threw him off, far more than they should have. Sans was of an age with him, Papyrus a match to Blue. Red was so obviously much older than Stretch it hadn’t even clicked, seriously, was he that off his game? That should’ve been his first thought and instead, it never made it on his list.

But then, none of them really liked to talk about it much, either. Sans and Papyrus sure weren’t bringing up how they ended up here, didn’t take any kind of magic to see the shadows lurking in the depths of their eye lights even now. They’d just showed up one day in Snowdin right before Chara did, two skeletons from another world that seemed so hurt by their pasts that Stretch and Blue let them keep the names and took on nicknames of their own. Turned out it was easy to forget, somehow, that they hadn’t always been there, easy to let a sort of shroud fall over that knowledge. Not like Stretch wasn’t used to it when it came to his past.

Only now the veil was getting ripped away. Edge and Red weren’t only other Monsters, they were other Monsters, holy shit, and they’d been here for how long?

“Yes,” Frisk nodded as if reading his mind, and wasn’t that a terrifying thought. “And we’ve learned that time can flow differently beneath the mountain. It seems that I arrived in their Underground some years before your child fell.”

Their smile faltered, faded, the silence broken by the sound of running water and the soft clatter of dishes in the sink. “Their Underground was...well. It was a place of LV, not love. Their king was mad and when I came to the castle…well.” Frisk shuddered, looking away from Stretch’s numb gaze. A bony hand settled on their shoulder, sharpened fingertips cautious, and Frisk looked up at Edge with something like gratitude. “we were the only survivors. We took the Human souls that the King had collected and went past the barrier, the three of us. Only, we were afraid of the humans’ reactions, so we hid ourselves from the people in Ebott and I brought Edge and Red back here. Backwater has always been fairly openminded when it comes to unusual folk and I thought they might be accepted here. I was right.”

Frisk hesitated then, choosing their words with care, “Backwater is a town that attracts certain things. Good things and bad things. The people here weren’t surprised to meet us.” Their eyes took on a faraway look. “In fact, they were expecting us. As I said, the town attracts good and bad things, and it needs watching over. When we arrived, the current caretaker was old and weakening. They were calling for a suitable replacement and I suppose I was perfect for the job. Not only had I been touched by magic in the Underground, I was also once in the possession of six other Human souls, and that touched me. Changed me, in a way. And so, we took over as caretakers, Edge and I.” Frisk straightened their shoulders, lifting their chin as they said, firmly, “I am the keeper of the town’s soul.”

“And I am their protector,” Edge said. They were first words he’d spoken since Frisk began, each one resonating with strength far beyond the spoken, not a mere statement, he said it as something known. Then he offered a faint smile, almost sheepish, as he added, “I also make pies and pastries to sell in town.”

“And that’s my story,” Frisk finished. They seemed almost nervous, watching Stretch, perhaps waiting for a reaction.

Stretch didn’t know what was on his face, but he sure knew what was rattling around in his head and that was one simple, weak thought, I could really use a cigarette right about now.

He sagged back in his chair and let his head drop down into his hands. This was all…fuck. This wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting, well, mostly, anyway. He’d been more right than he knew about one thing; a witch did live here, sorta, cauldron or not.

“okay,” Stretch said, more to himself than the two people waiting on the other side of the table. “okay, that’s. yeah.”

A hand settled on his shoulder and Stretch yelped, nearly scrambling away from the unexpected touch. He fell off the other side of the chair with a painful thud, fighting to untangle his legs from the tablecloth. Still standing on the other side, Edge only held his hands up in a stick-‘em-up gesture and didn’t try to touch him again. “It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

“you think?” Stretch sputtered. He managed to get his feet loose but didn’t try to stand; the floor seemed a lot more secure right about now. “fuck, you guys should’ve put that in a damn book instead of all those addresses and gave me time to read the footnotes! wait,” Stretch rolled to his hands and knees, and crawled around the table to look at Frisk, “so what does that make red? why does red live in town and not out here?”

Edge answered him first, a touch sharply, “You’ll need to ask him that.”

Frisk only looked saddened, a shadow falling across their Chara-esque face. “Yes, that is his story to tell.”

Fair enough. Stretch sank back down, rubbing a knuckle between his aching sockets as he considered. “okay, hold up. what about edgar allen?”

“After all that, you’re still worried about the scarecrow?” Edge sounded torn between amusement and offense.

“yeah, i am!” Stretch retorted. He might be a moron on any given day, but he didn’t forget about pals in the face of earth-shattering revelations. “that explanation filled up a lot of the questions on the form, but how does any of it explain edgar allen?” He pointed a finger at Frisk. “edge said he’s gonna die in the fall and you’d know why!”

“Die?” Frisk considered that, nodding slowly, “I suppose that’s accurate, in a way, but it’s also not. Growing things have a power of their own, you know. The corn, the garden, they give life, and that is something the town needs.” Frisk spread their hands, their empty palms up. “But what they offer is without conscious. Townsfolk aren’t in any real danger, but strangers can be, and aside from the loss of life, which I don’t want, we also don’t need to draw the attention of outsiders. Since I came here, every year I call upon a harvest spirit to watch over the crops, to protect the corn and the people who might wander into it. Edgar Allen came to us in the spring and he’ll leave us in the fall, but he’ll return, next year, after a fashion. He always does.”

A harvest spirit. Right. Edge and Red were from another Universe, along with a kid who wasn’t Chara, the scarecrow was a harvest spirit, and Stretch was quietly going nuts inside his own head. Seriously, Stretch should’ve been taking notes, this info dump was gonna take a while to process.

He sat there a while on the floor, trying to gather up his scattered wits, and nope, it was not happening. This was a three-cigarette problem, and he was starting to get eager to get started on renewing his nicotine habit. A glance out the window confirmed that the light outside was going soft and golden, the sun low in the sky. “well. uh. thanks for dinner and all, but i better get going if i’m gonna get home before dark.” Not his best speech, but then, Stretch was definitely not at his best.

“Of course,” Frisk stood, and their smile was gentle. “Please, visit again, Stretch. It was lovely to meet you.”

Edge stepped up again and this time, Stretch didn’t flinch from him. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

He held out a hand and Stretch took it without thinking. It jolted him unexpectedly, a soft cry choked off before it could escape. That simple touch was strangely electric, warm, bare bones curling with such gentleness against his own. Absurdly, it settled him, helped eased the roiling confusion boiling in his mind.

It was in a near daze that he let Edge draw him silently to his feet, pulling him along like a puppet on a string. Stretch barely managed a vague wave in Frisk’s direction as he walked with Edge out the door, and if his gaze automatically fell downward to watch the sway of Edge’s hips as he walked, welp, it wasn’t like there was anyone else around to notice.

At least, Stretch didn’t think so, might be better not to ‘ass of u and me’ around this place, even if all he was doing was watching someone’s ass.

Better safe than sorry; going forward, that was gonna be his motto. Right after he got back to Red’s on his ramshackle motorized bike.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

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irresistiibles · 4 years ago

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so uh, this is a whole monstrosity, but beneath the cut is a plotting call for the event! i have included all of my characters, sorted by location, with blurbs about what they will be doing and possible plots for them. they are just some ideas i came up with and are absolutely not limited to what i put down! anyway, toss this a like and i will hit you up to plot!

washington dc

asami sato / legend of korra / aware

recently aware and lowkey thankful cause she has more fighting memories from her real life. not actively running out and looking for a fight against these ridiculous creatures but she’s got a taser, real decent martial arts training, and a history of handling herself against much stronger enemies. she’ll be fine, probably looking for a place to bunker down and grabbing anyone who seems like they’re in danger as she goes. worried about korra cause she doesn’t have her memories so she doesn’t know if she can defend herself

plots: could help people. could bunker down with people. could fight monsters with people. could try and build some quick tnt to throw at monsters with people. could try and steal and hotwire a car to get away from monsters with people. lots of opportunities here it’s a party.

blue sargent / the raven cycle / aware

trying to keep out of the way. she doesn’t know if her powers will make the monsters more powerful, but she knows there’s a pretty solid chance and though she is feral enough to fight she doesn’t want to risk it. has a pocket knife and spite for defense but she is under five feet tall and absolutely should not try to take anything on. probably using the chaos as an excuse to steal convenience store tea

plots: someone trying to keep her out of fights. someone she’s bunkered down with. maybe someone with powers she can enhance who’s fighting or something that she helps.

ciel phantomhive / black butler / aware

he’s tiny and has asthma this is not an ideal situation for him. he does also have a gun but ciel isn’t stupid (most of the time) and definitely knows how to pick his battles. intelligence battles he can handle on his own but strength? absolutely not. will be trying to run and bunker down and potentially find someone who looks bigger and stronger than him to play the pity card of ‘i’m young and tiny and only have one eye’ to try and get some protection.

plots: we aren’t built for fighting so we’re running and bunkering down crew. ciel will be faking some kindness in this event because there’s powers in numbers and if it comes down to it he can trip someone else while running from a monster. someone protecting him like mentioned above. maybe someone who comes and saves his ungrateful ass. legit anything

donna benviento / resident evil / aware

girl is not a fighter. in the game she relies on illusions to fight ethan, which she will be using with any of the monsters possible in order to create escape routes for herself. will be searching for someone familiar since all the people she knows here can be fighters and she hopes like her enough to help her out.

plots: not the type to necessarily help anyone since she’s focused on helping herself, but could give some encouragement to someone else struggling. maybe someone who gets caught in a hallucination she intended for a monster just cause that would be wild.

entrapta / she-ra / unaware

she’s doing fine. this is the sort of woman who can make explosives on the go. not actively trying to fight monsters but not actively hiding either. she’s curious to an extreme fault and will be interested in all the weird things running around washington. though she knows it isn’t safe she desperately wants a sample and will be trying to find monster corpses or even something she can sneak up on to get one.

plots: someone trying to get her away from danger. someone hanging around her because even though she isn’t hiding she can blow up the monsters and seem safe. someone fighting monsters she’s latched onto planning to get a sample after they kill something

jaskier / the witcher / unaware

lmao he is not doing fine. even if he had his memories mans was a bard and though i think jaskier has a feral side that’s more for like bar fights than monsters. he’ll be working on hiding though he’s a little shit and won’t be able to stop himself from peaking out to try and get a story for a song from all of this. lowkey think he’ll run into a monster from the witcher and trigger some memories because i am ready to know some stuff if not everything.

plots: if anyone wants to offer this man any defense that would be cool. anyone he bunkers down with. someone stuck hearing his song ideas because he’ll probably be composing as he goes like an absolute fool. anyone who witnesses him get caught by a monster and have to stick with the defense of attempting to punch it in the face and run lol. i’m cool with whatever

karolina dean / marvel’s runaways / unaware

though she is unaware karolina is luckily aware of her powers and will be using them to get herself through this. her powers aren’t reallysomething she uses often and they do cause her to become exhausted after extended use so that’s definitely a possible problem.

plots: asdfaldsfkj

lavender brown / harry potter / aware

just thinking about the last time monsters came to life in the city and is very unhappy about it. mostly trying to hide she did not fuck with this the last time it happened and she does not fuck with it now. knows a little bit of fighting magic if it really comes down to it. will follow people to where they bunker down

plots: someone she gets stuck fighting a monster with despite wanting to dip (could develop into reluctant fighting pals). hiding buddies. someone who helps her if she panics and just trying to hide in a dark street. legit whatever

lily evans / harry potter / unaware

she is without magic or a wand or memories and doing her best with pepper spray and a decent chunk of anger. will be trying to help people despite her lack of defenses cause she’s foolish. very well may be dying in this because i want her memories back and this feels like an opportunity (considering the other ideas i have had are all awful)

plots: anyone she helps. anyone who helps her/drags her away from danger when she attempts to run right in. if anyone wants something big she could die trying to protect someone i’m open to options

river song / doctor who / semi-aware

let’s be real this is not the most dangerous situation river has ever been in. i would love to say she’s using her competence to help people but unfortunately she’s probably using the chaos as an excuse to rob high end stores. may help someone in a real casual aloof way where she’s passing by and shoots and monster but it’s not really a moral obligation thing rip. a little worried about where her mom is cause she just found out she definitely has a mom, so she can’t just lose her.

plots: someone she casually helps and then tries to dip from immediately. anyone interested in theft. may go to some fighting for the fun of it so if anyone wants to join she will be down

michiru kaioh / sailor moon / aware

very unhappy about the situation. mostly wants to find haruka considering the last real bad situation in washington had her seeing her dead body so. may provide a little protection along the way but she’s definitely on the colder side and is not meant to be a full time protector for anyone. will probably be transformed in her sailor neptune form to be able to handle the situation as best as possible

plots: someone she helps but tries to ditch. someone who asks her for help who she refuses. maybe someone who sees her fighting and comes by to join only for her to be like ‘oh you got this? i’m out then thanks for handling it.’

pansy parkinson / harry potter / aware

planning on following her successful plan that she carried out during jumanji, raiding a liquor store and finding a place to hide. will not be as easy as it was during the storm of course, but i think she’ll still kinda manage it. may get in a fight or two on the way there but that’s about it. maybe she could get injured or something lol whatever works

plots: drinking assholes buddies baby! if she does get a little injured someone for that thread (where she would probably be stupid enough to try and clean out an injury with her drinks). could save someone by accident. someone who witnesses theft lmao and has whatever reaction you want.

quinn fabray / glee / aware

uuuh quinn has many skills but none of them are made for this situation. i guess she can run kinda fast from cheerleading so that’s her best hope. it’s her one and only plan and she will be attempting to just run and hide. is not making an attempt to fight because she’s not stupid and knows anything out there could snap her in half.

plots: someone who offers some protection/saves her from a monster. bunker buddies. some regular human she’s camping out hiding with where they’re both like ‘what the actual fuck is going on in this city???’

tessa gray / the infernal devices / unaware

so she technically has magic but does she know how to use it? absolutely the fuck not. might use a tiny bit in self defense because she’s understandably very freaked out by all of this. like she knows there’s some supernatural stuff but she’s never prepared for this level of things. kinda stuck between wanting to save herself and feeling like she should help people but not knowing how so she does neither as a result. her main plan of defense is stabbing someone despite having no idea how to do so

plots: some sort of help for this victorian woman trying to survive. someone around if she accidentally uses magic to defend herself with no idea how. someone she helps get to safety.

toph beifong / avatar the last airbender / aware

lets be real she’s having a blast. loves to fight and loves fighting in a situation where she doesn’t have to worry about morals and wow should you hurt this person?? obviously monsters can be hurt so she’s in the clear and will be throwing boulders without any hesitation. lowkey thriving and running into chaos headfirst.

plots: though it wouldn’t be out of kindness she could help people or shield them or whatever. fighting buddies. someone who decides to stick by her cause she can clearly take out monsters. anything.

zagreus / hades / aware

honestly has spent the most recent part of his life fighting his way out of the underworld so this is not too crazy for him. he’s also died a lot so his concern for his own life is minimum. will be fighting and trying to help because he is a well meaning boy who doesn’t think people should be involved in this stuff if they don’t want to be. though earth was supposed to be better than this and is kinda thrown off and maybe a little sad.

plots: anyone he helps by saving from a monster or leading to safety. could steal a weapon off of someone lol. someone he starts questioning mid battle about whether or not this a common thing on earth

zhongli / genshin impact / aware

this man is very difficult to kill. he can summon meteors and shield himself from damage lmao. probably trying to take out as many monsters as possible but like in a for the greater good to save the people sort of way. reasons killing things is more helpful in the long term than slowly saving on person after another.

plots: could shield someone from an attack last minute. battle buddies. someone he accidentally frightens by calling down a whole ass meteor and handling that. will save people if they get stuck in combat just not helping people to safety or anything, so there’s options.

the island

albedo / genshin impact / aware

not gonna lie albedo is not nearly as worried as he should be. the man is bad at having emotional reactions to anything. if anything he’s really intrigued to be on a new location and will be trying to get plant and soil samples despite everything else going on.

plots: someone trying to get him to safety would be funny since it would be a very difficult task. maybe someone also just vibing with him. a research partner who he just pulls in by accident because he’s like ‘hey get me some of those flowers over there’ and they’re thrown off or whatever to the point where they just do it.

alec lightwood / shadowhunters / aware

a nervous man trying not to come off as nervous. will mostly be looking for magnus/issy, and turn out to subsequently be very unhappy when he realizes they aren’t there/are in washington (if one of them texts him). from there it’ll be about helping people and trying to keep people safe. this isn’t the sort of dangerous situation he’s used to dealing with (turns out you can’t fight the weather with a bow and arrow) but he’s heavily trained and will manage well enough himself and feels semi obligated to help regular humans survive

plots: any people he’s helping try to keep out of danger. someone aware of his concerns about his people back in washington. uuh literally anything he will be working real hard to play it cool but it’s hard when the people you care about are who knows how far aware and cell service is hard to get in a monsoon or lightning storm (he may try and find the tallest areas to scale just to try and get a text out so if anyone wants to join him they’re welcome to)

esther mckinnon / harry potter / aware

mentally cursing magic and all of the nonsense that comes with it that refuses to leave her alone so she can chill. luckily, though she’s not amazing with much magic she was always slightly better with defensive stuff or charms rather than straight up attack battle magic. luckily she’s been keeping her wand on her more often than usual cause dying will do that to a person. trying to find/contact her family and survive

plots: sort of survival crew sort of deal. she’s probably half tempted to see if she can swim back to washington so someone should talk her down

gerry keay / the magnus archives / aware

similar to esther is real tired of magic stuff or cult stuff or whatever it is and is kinda pissed to still be a part of it. he’s kinda concerned this has something to do with the entities and will be running around a bit looking for answers at the start before deciding that isn’t happening and just being tired of it. also pretty sure he’s survived worse so don’t be surprised to see him smoking a cigarette through a storm somehow acting like things are chill. is nice and wants to help people even if he doesn’t seem like it so will probably move into action the second he sees anyone struggling.

plots: if your character is tired of this shit and wants to share a cigarette they are more than welcome. he will help people in whatever way he can. someone needs to tell him you can’t fight the weather with arson because that’s the only move he’s got.

glinda upland / wicked / aware

lowkey a little pissed she was not given a warning about all of this so she could at least show up in a proper beach outfit. real tempted to just hide in her bubble and float in that until this is over but isn’t sure if that would actually help. also has bad memories when it comes to extreme weather conditions. can use some magic to try and help herself with but glinda is not built for thinking under pressure so big rip

plots: someone offering her some help she needs it. someone who witnesses her attempting to keep her hair styled throughout all of this. literally whatever.

haruhi fujioka / ouran high school host club / aware

a little too confident and bad at accepting help. will be doing their best to get through this on their own, and probably semi managing but not as good as they could with some help, especially considering they are human and so many others are not. will offer others help even though their biggest and best plan is to hide however possible

plots: reluctantly accepted help. maybe the opposite of someone trying to offer help and haruhi adamantly refusing. a hiding crew of sort, where haruhi would stick with someone else under the assumption that more eyes in better and she’s still mostly handling herself.

jin ling / the untamed / unaware

stubborn like haruhi, but will recognize his limits much faster. kinda overconfident with a habbit of running headfirst into things and them directly going to shit. lowkey thinking he could get injured and get some flashes of his memories back but not become completely aware, just a sense of things. hoping his dog is safe back home

plots: please someone help this boy dear god. if i do go with an injury maybe someone pulling him out of whatever shit he gets himself into. any sort of group safety or help that can deal with him being a little mean because that’s just how he is unfortunately.

kyoshi / avatar the last airbender / unaware

‘let kyoshi bend a meteor’ an admin said to me as a joke but you know what? she could so why not! will be attempting to utilize the bending she barely understands to get through the weather and will probably be semi successful considering she’s best at bending giant amounts of elements rather than precise bending. will be keeping herself safe but nervous about anyone being near her due to not feeling in control

plots: someone she saves with her bending. someone that could get hurt from her bending something into them accidentally (though probably not too seriously). someone hanging around her to stay safe but it’s just making her nervous but she doesn’t want to tell them to leave her alone so it’s a struggle all around

namaari / and the last dragon / aware

is used to surviving in difficult weather situations. not this bad but like, it’s not so far out of her comfort zone that she’s absolutely screwed. probably has a good instinct for it. doesn’t trust super easily so will not be super jazzed about joining a group but could go with a person or two.

plots: someone she impulsively helps. someone who helps her and she gets stuck feeling like she has to thank them and hangs around till she gets a chance to repay them (or she ditches them to save her own skin). working together but she’s clearly hesitant with them

pearl / steven universe / aware

she’ll be good. i mean very confused and concerned about how she got out of the city, but interested in finding out how it all works. will be trying to do some research around the horrible weather. is also a very fast builder and could probably manage some shelter. if she decides there’s nothing to find may try and establish a place to just stay at and deal with the weather. does have a moral compass and will attempt to help people.

plots: someone she helps/saves. any people interested in looking for answers with her that don’t have enough concern about the weather situation. can try and build some protection structures for people.

rita skeeter / harry potter / aware

real tempted to turn into a bug and just bury in the dirt until this is all over. may start that way even until earthquake kicks in and that doesn’t feel safe either. will be a beetle for some of it though. luckily most of her magic skill is in defense (she has always prepared for the day someone snaps and tries to punch her) so she’ll kinda manage, but is a selfish bitch only out for herself so do not expect much from her in terms of help. will try and start doing interviews on the island despite the craziness to prep for the article she’s gonna write after

plots: someone she starts trying to interview mid chaos. someone who pulls her out of danger while she’s filming something. lmao if someone wants to see her turn out of a bug for the laughs (or discovering she’s an illegal animagus) that could happen i’m down for whatever

victor nikiforov / yuri on ice / aware

sir is absolutely not built for this. nothing in his career has built him for this, it’s just made him a charismatic egomaniac with bad knees and ankles. probably makes a snapchat story along the lines of ‘someone come save me i’m a national treasure.’

plots: will cling onto people for help so anyone stuck with him. could offer money in return for people with any form of protection/support. making unfortunate snapchat stories/instagram posts as it goes. let him pull some people into the wildest selfies ever.

#gun tw #knife tw #death tw #hw: plot call #hwevent12 #what was i thinking with this truly #i feel like i owe a public apology for it #will probably wait a day or two to work on plotting and then put out a starter call

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moon-of-desire · 4 years ago

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Aint that just the way that life goes down? Colonel Beckett x Amy Barrett

Original Plot: In 2015 Colonel Beckett Travels back in time to the year 2001 to stop a Plauge happening in 2009 by eliminating patiient Zero (Amy Barrett) and trades his life in for hers. Making sure the plauge never happens however he dies in the year 2001

Alternate Universe: Where Colonel Beckett survived and managed to go back to his own time. But the plauge never happend. TW: Mentions of Plauge/Global Pandemic/Drunk Driving

It was a rainy day, I slowly walk through the streets of New York while looking around I see all kinds of people hiding around me and children playing in puddles of water. These are the days like today when I think back to 15 years ago when I lost my husband Billy, to a drunk driver I had lost the love of my life. The night that I lost Billy I can still very well remember, coming home from work and getting dinner ready until I heard a knock on the door. Finally Billy was home i thought, concerts were always untill the late hours. But once when I opened the door, I was greeted by two uniformed police officers, not knowing at first that they were coming to tell me the news of Billy. The news they told me then dropped like a bomb. Billy never came home, never

“Mom, Mom! Come on or we'll be late! ” Said Bobby, our son. Yes, you will be surprised, two nights before Billy passed away I became pregnant with Bobby, Billy never knew he had a son. He looks just like his father, and he shares his love for music, he studies at the same music school that Billy used to go to, piano to be precise. “Mom come on now! Don't hesitate, I have to be there on time I want to speak to Catherine before the concert! ” "I'm already coming to you Bobby, just relax." I said with a chuckle. The concert is a collaboration with the other branch of the music school, Bobby's pen pal Catherine happened to be there too. In fith grade they got to know each other through a penfriend project through their school. Since then they have always kept in touch with each other, Catherine mostly lives in Chicago, but since her parents divorced 3 years ago, Catherine can be found with her father during vacations in New York. However just the way life is, it seems like the universe just doesn't want them to meet. And the concert was the perfect reason to see each other in person for the first time.

When we arrive at the doors I see the familiar faces from 15 years ago. I used to come here with Billy so often, until his death since then I did not dare to go to this place, everything reminded me of him. I lost just about all my friends after Billy's death, I pushed them away, I just didn't want to anymore. I had lost the love of my life.

Four months after Billy's death, little by little I came back to enjoy life again, I slowly started working and decided to go to the cinema after work. Until the universe played a game with me and decided to let someone dump their coffee on me. I decided to go home that evening, but just before I got home I heard a loud bang. When I looked back I saw him lying on the floor. Beckett his name was Colonel Beckett. He had been hit by a car driving in reverse and did not want to go to hospital at all costs. At that moment panic struck me, when I saw him lying there I only thought of someone, Billy. God, that image of Beckett laying on the floor in pain has haunted me for months. Only later did I make the connection that that moment again caused the memories to surface. I took him to my house so he could rest, he insisted he didn't want to go to the hospital.

Once at home I was able to take care of him, Beckett stumbled to the chair and sat down with difficulty. He just managed to take off his shirt, when I looked at his body I saw the bruises from the impact, and a few scars. Beckett didn't say much about himself. He had been in the military, special forces to be precise. He was hiding something, he was trying to keep himself together and distant, and little got through to him.His mind was elsewhere. “What are you some kind of tough guy?” I said. “Not so tough,” he replied.

Looking at his wounds I just couldn’t help it but wanting to help him. I think it’s because I wish I could’ve done this to Billy. Had he come home and I was able to take care of him. “Here i got you a shirt.” I said to him wile holding up one of Billy’s old shirts. “I’m kind of hungry would you like to have some food?”

He looked at me, still tense from our earlier conversation, I just couldn’t point what was wrong with him. “Well the delivery guy must’ve tought we were having a party.” “I haven’t eaten Chinese in quite a while” He said looking at his plate. “Well Beckett this place is really good.” I said and smiled. I felt some tension in the room. “So you from around here? Or don’t you like talking to me.” While taking a bite, Beckett looked at me and replied. “Chicago” “Oh Chicago is nice, my husband Billy had a recital there. He didn’t get paid but exposure was always nice.” I stood up and reached for the cabinet where I got out this freamed picture of Billy. “This is my husband Billy, he passed away 4 months ago, drunk driver.” I walked over to Beckett and showed him the photo.

“So are you married?” I asked him. He looked at me, took a small pause and said. “I was married once. She died.” Well there it was... He had lost someone too. Great Amy this is why you should be more carefull around other people! “How did she die?” I asked looking at him, not sure if I asked the right question. “ She was sick and there wasn’t any cure.” I looked at him and felt inmense guilt coming over me. “I’m sorry Beckett... Sometimes you forget in your own grief that other people go through these things too.”

He had lost his wife to an illness, and no cure was available, from then on I realized I was not alone in the grief of losing a loved one. Once I told Beckett about Billy, he seemed to open up more to me. For the first time since Billy's death, I felt alive again, and I saw that in Beckett. He was sitting at the piano playing what he had made up himself, it was sad but beautiful. He told me he hadn't played Sarah since his wife died. And suddenly there he was, sitting at the piano, so focused but also so dreamy. We had more in common than we thought.

“What’s that piece called.” I looked at him. “Ah a little improv” He said while looking at the piano. “What happend to the drunk driver that killed your husband. The moment he asled that the music stopped and he turned to look at me. “ Oh he is fine i said, looking down.” I didn’t end up killing him like I planned to.” He looked at me with this confused look. “I wanted to buy a gun and take him out.” I said looking at him, thinking back of the man who killed Billy. “What made you stop?” He asked looking directly at me. “It wouldn’t bring Billy back”.

Beckett seemed rushed, as if he couldn't rest. He even offered to stay the night on the couch that night and went to my doctor's appointment the next day. That day was so weird, and it was tense, it was different. That look in his eyes was a look with a mission, he didn't want to tell it at first until he panicked to get me away from the clinic.

“Beckett you have to tell me what is going on!” “Amy I can’t” He yelled back, there was something going on and I just needed to know. “Beckett please tell it to me!” He looked at me defeated and took me aside. He pulled out this little thing with a screen and showed me a video.I saw people scared, bodies, bodies laying everwhere. Beckett came from the year 2015, a year where there was a global plague all over the world, and I was the instigator. Me Amy Barrett a young woman from New York. I was the one who hurt him and millions of others so much. I had the misfortune to come in contact with 2 DNA fragments that started all of this.

“You’re patient Zero Amy” Beckett looked at me. Fear ran through my body, what is this? This can’t even be possible!

Fear got into my body and I decided to run, from that moment on it clicked. He was there to kill me! Before I knew it Beckett came up to me and pulled me close to him. He looked at me, and I expected hate, I expected him to kill me at that point, but he wasn't angry. He took me in his arms and comforted me. He wanted to protect me, me the one who made sure he lost his wife! I felt so immensely guilty. Beckett, on the other hand, held me and said it would be okay. His arms around me, that kiss on my forehead. He couldn't, he decided to spare me. He chose to stay with me so that I could not come into contact with the two other DNA fragments. My doctor was one of them.

From that moment on, it clicked. Beckett’s hostility towards me, the way he reacted so cold. He was sent to kill me. But he didn’t. Somehow he didn’t hate me for the things I had done.

At my appartment he later came clean about everything. “So why didn’t you kill me.” I asked him. “ Why didn’t you kill the guy that hurt your husband?” That was the sentence that send him over the edge. That got him to change his mind he spared me because he knew that we were going through the same kind of grief.

“So we changed the history?” Ï said to him. He turned around and laughed a little bit. “What do you want? A medal?” he grinned. “Well a pat on the back would be nice.” I said looking at him. We later heard a knock on the door,upon opening it was an unfamilar face to me. But for Becket it was not, it was his colleauge, who came to check in on him when he didn’t return. And he had good news the plauge never happend!

I looked over at Beckett and I saw a sigh of relief coming down his face. He was going to get his wife back. And it was time for us to say goodbye. We looked at eachother knowing that this was going to be the last we were ever gonna see of eachother ever again. “ Well Beckett.. I want to thank you.” “It was nice meeting you.” I said wanting to go in for a hug but I decided not to.. I know it sounds strange but it felt that I was loosing someone important to me again. “It was nice to meet you as well Amy.” We looked at eachother and knew it was okay. It was time for him to go.

That was the last time I saw or heard of him

“Mom!” I looked up and heard Bobby’s voice coming to me. “Yes darling.” I looked at him totally unaware that I had dozed off for a second in my own thoughts. “Catherine is here she would like to meet you.” I walked with Bobby to one of the tables and I saw a young brunette standing there smiling at us. I smiled back at her and shook her hand. “Hi My name is Amy Barrett nice to meet you.” “Nice to meet you Miss Barrett my namce is Catherine, it’s so nice to meet you and Bobby finally.” She looked at Bobby with a smile and the two of them looked at eachother like this wasn’t the first meeting for the two of them. “Catherine honey, where are you?” I heard a raspy voice coming from down the hall. Catherine looked behind her for a second and said: “Over here dad!” and as I looked in her direction I saw a tall handsome man heading my way. He looked familair, he had short brown curly hair and blue eyes that looked like you could get lost in them forever. When our eyes locked It hit me. It was him... Colonel Beckett.

#Michael Rooker #Patient Zero #The Outer Limits #Amy Barrett x Colonel Beckett #Colonel Beckett #Amy Barrett

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soliverse · 4 years ago

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SAY YOU LOVE ME - PART 2

rockstar!taeyongxjournalist!reader

genre: angst, suggestive, romance

warnings: alcohol, a bit of cursing

1 ⭒ 2 ⭒ 3 ⭒ 4 ⭒ 5 ⭒ finale pt 1

Length: 1.6k

ps: I didn’t proofread this so forgive the typos and grammars errors. Will edit this in the future.

A series of clicks can be heard from your cubicle. You only have a few more minutes before the deadline of the article that you’re currently working on and so you’re furiously typing like your life depended on it. Your head was buzzing and your vision was getting a bit hazy, but you pushed through and managed to hit the send button before the website closes. You didn’t even notice that you were holding your breathe until you relaxed your body and you were gasping for air.

Massaging your head, you take a few more deep breaths to calm your nerves down. You didn’t even notice that you were holding your breath just as you were typing. Once you’ve managed to rest and clear your mind for a bit, you stood up and fixed yourself up before saying goodbye to your coworkers.

While on the commute going home, you decided to check your messages. It’s mostly just business contacts or some friends asking how you’ve been doing. You missed your old pals and decided to contact them for a night out. A little gathering just to unwind. Unfortunately, most of them seems to be doing something for that evening. You just sighed and got off on the convenience store near your apartment and just decided to chill on your own. You grabbed the first row of chips that you can find, a few bottles of soju, and frozen pizza to stuff your face with while you’re watching some really sucky horror movies.

You were already daydreaming on the walk home of how you will spend the evening when you turned the doorknob and you noticed that it wasn’t locked. When you got in, you were met with a very occupied Taeyong, who was clearly very invested in whatever it is that he was playing.

“Oh, hey.”

He paused the game as soon as he acknowledged your presence. He was wearing his favorite gray hoodie and sweatpants ensemble that he usually wears when he’s at home. His long brown hair was messy because he never bothers with what he looks like at home. It was effortless, and yet he still looks ten times better than you and the “corporate zombie” style that you’re currently rocking.

“So… No show tonight, huh?”

You asked him as you made your way inside the house. He smiles boyishly and grabbed took the grocery bad from you.

“Yep. Bossman said that we need a few days rest before we leave for next week. It’s a pretty big scene so they’re taking preparations seriously.” He explained as he made his way to the kitchen. You followed suit.

Taeyong’s band is a regular attraction at the bar a few streets over. He usually leaves just shy a few minutes after you came home to tune some equipment or change into whatever they need to wear that night. The house would be clean, Felice is full and you enjoy the peace and quiet to yourself in your room. Then, he wraps things up around midnight and he comes home to you sleeping soundly. There are even times when they would be scheduled for some place out of town and you’ll be home by yourself for at least a few days. Your schedules made it hard for the both of you to meet. You’re glad that things are going well for him and his band. However, times like this made you miss hanging out with him just like the old times.

He gently placed the heavy paper bags over the counter and took the contents out. Just beside the kitchen cabinets, you saw an unenthusiastic feline resting beside her food bowl.

“Hello baby~ How was your day?” You squealed in this excited, high-pitched voice that you always use when babying your little one. You scooped her in your arms and snuggled with her fluffy body.

“I’m fine… Thanks for asking.”

He mumbles from the other side of the room, a bit jealous of the affection that you are giving to the cat instead of him, an actual human being.

You sat Felice down on the counter and sat at one of the stools.

“Nice. Haven’t had one of these for ages.”

He said as he was taking out the soju bottles from earlier.

“Guess that means you’re joining me then?” You rested your chin on one of your hands while the other is tapping your fingernails to the counter.

“You betcha.”

////

You’re no lightweight when it comes to drinking, but a few months without practice made it easier for the alcohol to get to you. You’re still sober, but it made it hard for you to focus and understand the film that you’re currently watching. You even forgot about the title, just remembered that it’s about some type of man-eating monster and stuff.

“Hey Y/N, are you even watching?”

Taeyong asked from below the couch, currently munching on some chips.

“I am! In fact, I know who’s been baiting all these men.”

He chuckled at the sound of your words slurring from intoxication.

“Well, of course you would! Her name is literally in the title.”

He takes another shot of the alcohol before speaking once again.

“The movie sucks by the way. Should’ve let me pick a movie.”

This time, it was your turn to chortle.

“Eww no. You would’ve chosen some cliché romcom movie starring Julia Roberts. We’ve watched all of those already!”

“Nope. We haven’t watched Pretty Woman yet. You’ve been missing out on a masterpiece.”

“Fine. But can you at least share my chips with me?”

You tossed over the remote to him. In other occasions, you would’ve been stubborn and stuck with the movie that you’re currently watching. However, your boredom and drunkenness aided your complacency. In turn, he tossed over a few bags of chips in your direction. One of them landed on your face, which earned him a glare. However, he just grinned and turned to the tv to switch the movies.

He had always had this fascination for Julia Roberts. He told you at one of your drinking sessions that his mother absolutely adored her to the point that his sister was almost named Julia. However, they opted to a more Korean name instead. It was one of those moments when you wondered if he and the performer Lee Taeyong was the same person. His fans would be surprised to know about the softy that he is.

“Alright!”

He exclaims excitedly as he finished setting up the movie. This time, he sat besides you so he can stretch his legs from sitting on the floor too much. You didn’t mind and scooted over to the other side to give him more space.

As it turns out, Pretty Woman isn’t the ugly duckling fairytale story that you expected it to be. It’s PG13 nature rendered you speechless all throughout the movie. Even Taeyong was quiet the whole time.

“So that’s why you like this movie…”

You said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood up. However, he just looked at your way and pressed his finger on his lips. He shushed slowly before going back to watch the film. Your eyes widened at the sight. The way he did it just looked so, hot.

You muttered some curses on your head and talked yourself to snap out of it. You just grabbed one of the remaining pizza slices and stuffed your mouth nervously while trying to divert your attention back on the film.

Well… that didn’t help at all.

The girl, Vivian, woke up by herself and started looking for the main guy. She saw him at one of the halls, playing the piano.

Taeyong gulped, knowing how this scene will go.

Meanwhile, your eyes stayed glued at the screen and watched as the scene unfolds. Unconsciously, you started imagining that the main guy was Taeyong… and… Oh god.

You were about to grab the last remaining bottle of soju to cool yourself but your hands touched Taeyong’s, as he was also thinking of the same thing.

Your eyes met. He had this look that you’re familiar with. It’s how he looked at you that night at the club. Suddenly, you see yourself being pulled by some unknown force towards him. So was his. The next thing you know, your lips met halfway. You can feel his breaths hitching which probably turned you on even more. He slithered his hands on your waist and pulled you in your closer to him, your hands now wrapped his neck. You can feel yourself heat up as he lays you down, his body now hovering over you. You find yourself getting drawn in deeper and you closed your eyes just so you can feel it more.

And then memories of him started flooded in.

Yuta.

This jolted you back into reality. You blacked out for a bit, not realizing that you pushed Taeyong off of you. His eyes were first met with confusion, and then he realizes what just happened.

“Shit. I’m sorry Y/N!”

You didn’t even speak a word to him probably because of a mix between shock and embarrassment. You just ran off to your room and slammed the door, leaving Taeyong alone in the couch, cursing himself out.

#nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct u x reader #nct taeyong #nct fic #lee taeyong #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #rockstar au #journalist au #yuta nakamoto #nctcreations

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avengersassemble-fics · 5 years ago

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Lost and Found

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary: Set slightly before ROTS, the war with the Separatists was at an all time high. The war was being fought on all fronts, with the Jedi at the forefront of almost every battle. Anakin and his 501st regiment are on their way to meet up with Obi-Wan and his fleet to help protect a planet that’s about to be attacked by the droid army. Anakin begins to feel something in the Force, that leads him to finding something he thought was long lost.

part 01/10 “a surprise”

Word Count: 4.5k

an: so this is kinda like a mix of the movies and tcw series. as far as anakins mannerisms and development but!! i hope you enjoy, im very passionate about these star wars stories right now :) also!! don’t come at me for anakin/padme’s relationship sorry but im working around that

thank you again to @omg-i-am-lord-voldemort for reading through this. you’re the best :)

spotify playlist to listen to while you’re reading!

There was a disturbance in the Force.

It felt like a cry for help, it felt like a desperate clawing at a life that is fading. But one thing that Anakin Skywalker knew was that he heard his name being called for.

It happened in the dark moments of the night, the stars laid out around the cruise ship he commanded, somewhere near the Outer Rim. He had just managed to fall asleep, but the voice still rang in his ears.

Anakin-

He had stirred awake, his eyes staring into the darkness of his small cabin, and he sat upwards, the blanket he had over his torso falling into his lap. He was confused, but he knew, he knew, he had heard the voice, felt it in his soul. He had tried to meditate to reconnect with that voice, that feeling, but he couldn’t find it again.

He was scheduled to meet up with Obi-Wan the following day to continue on a joint mission to an Outer Rim planet that the Separatists were attempting to invade. There was a large colony, an ally of the Republic, that was facing imminent attack by the droid army, and Obi-Wan and him were being sent to protect the people, along with the 501st squadron.

Obi-Wan stood alongside Anakin as they were being briefed on the mission at hand, but all Anakin could think about was speaking with his master about what he had felt, and if maybe he felt it too. He wasn’t paying much attention as Captain Rex went over the information they had on the colony, the man who was their elected ruler, the terrain, everything Rex had said went in one ear and out the other. Not that Anakin would ever admit that to anyone.

Finally, Obi-Wan had motioned for his padawan to follow him to their ships to leave to the planet below. Anakin’s strides matched his, and Obi-Wan was the first to speak.

“Is something troubling you?”

Anakin shook his head, “I was hoping to speak with you about something I had felt last night, there was a disturbance in the Force, I felt.. Like something, or someone, was calling for help.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, “I felt it too.”

“I had never felt something that strong,” Anakin continued, “it felt.. close. And I could’ve sworn I heard my name as well.”

“Hm,” Obi-Wan paused, as the two men waited for a lift to arrive, he stroked his beard, “I can’t say I felt that presence.”

The turbo lift had arrived and opened for them to enter. When they did it proceeded to close, and whisk them towards their ship bay.

“But I know it,” Anakin said, “someone called for me.”

The lift opened, and Anakin took a step out, and Obi-Wan followed, “You may be right, but Anakin,” he paused and Anakin looked behind him at his Master, who held a stern gaze, “please be alert on this mission, I fear we are closer to the source than anticipated.”

“Yes, Master.” Anakin answered. The two men nodded their farewells and went their separate ways - Anakin to his ship and Obi-Wan to his. Both ships were to lead a handful of Clone ships down to the surface, and to begin setting up a defense against the anticipated attack. Anakin neared his ship and nodded towards the Clones he passed on the way, and set his hands on ship, his pal R2-D2 whirled around to face him in the droid slot.

“You ready R2?” He asked, climbing into the small cockpit, and settled in for the relatively short trip down. R2 chirped happily at him, and he smiled, flipping a few switches and the engine of the aircraft coming to life. The clear top slid closed as Anakin put a lightweight headset on, and he readied his ship to lift from the ground.

“Try not to fly too hastily,” Obi-Wan’s voice rang in his ears, and Anakin just grinned.

“Can’t promise you that Master.”

The sunlight was prominent through the sparse trees that lined the ground of the city. Mostly a rocky terrain, absolutely not to be confused with Geonosis he’d say, there was a bountiful piece of land the city resided on that was home to a trickle of a river, and a few trees that stood gorgeously large in the middle of the city. The hot planet was otherwise rather calm and cool here, the old natives would say this was because of the fact it was a holy place, but he chalked it up to just being one of the planets characteristics. He was standing in front of his humbly appointed advisors, each who had their eyes locked to the ground, and watched as the Republic vessels landed before him.

How lucky for him to be the host of two Jedi and the famous 501st regime. What an honor!

He cared deeply about honor.

He watched for a moment as the two Jedi hopped out their respective ships, and the large carriers opened to reveal dozens of clone troopers. He smiled at the two gentleman who began to make their way over, and he moved to meet them halfway.

“Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker,” he greeted, clasping his hands together and bowing his head slightly, “it is the highest honor to meet you, even under the dire circumstances.”

“Governor Shuule, thank you for offering to meet with us,” Obi-Wan greeted, his padawan quiet as he observed the surroundings.

“Of course, once we were paid a visit by Count Dooku, I had to alert the Republic immediately,” he nodded as he spoke, “my highest concern is the safety of my people.”

“As is ours,” Obi-Wan replied, and the governor motioned for the two men to follow him into the polished government building.

The words leaving Governor Shuule’s mouth seemed lined with honey, sweet and silky but sticky. He spoke about how the residents of this “fine city” were those who fled their worlds seeking a safe place to call home, and every person they passed by offered a smile - yet they didn’t feel genuine.

There was a disturbance in the Force.

Anakin could still feel it! It kept him on edge, and he allowed his Master to do a majority of the speaking. His mind, on the other hand, wondered, trying to make sense of this feeling-

-that’s how most of the day had passed without him even realizing. The Governor was offering them a chance to clean up before dinner was served. But of course we’ve already sent some food for your troops, he said as they were leaving the room. Anakin let out a pent up sigh, and Obi-Wan chuckled.

“I have never seen you so pensive, Anakin.”

“I’m sorry Master,” he replied and the two began to walk down the corridor towards the exit to outside, there, Rex and Fives were standing with a couple others, discussing something, “but honestly this place gives me the chills.”

“It feels too perfect,” Obi-Wan replied, earning a nod of the head from his Padawan, and as they neared the clones, all but Rex and Fives went off to their posts, and the two remaining clones stood a little straighter, holding their helmets on their hips and ready to give their reports.

“Sir, the outside wall has been secured and set with troops around the perimeter, keeping watch for the night. Most of the civilians have been accounted-“

“Most?” Anakin interjected, receiving a nod from Fives.

“Yes sir, there’s about 3 dozen unaccounted for.”

“That’s far too many,” Obi-Wan replied, there was a happy holler from down which they came. Looking over their shoulders the Governor was waving to them from near the room they came, dinner must have been ready. The two Jedi glanced at one another, almost like reading one another’s mind, and Obi-Wan nodded, leaving Anakin alone with his troops.

“I want you two to search this place, top to bottom,” he ordered, talking lowly for only them to hear, “something feels off, and I want to know what that is. Especially with that many people just unaccounted for.”

“Yes sir,” the two clones said in almost perfect unison, and Anakin nodded, following his Masters footsteps to join the Governor and a few others for a meal.

The sun had set a while ago, the grounds were dark all along the buildings, some lights illuminating the small residential buildings, others turned off as the two clone troopers walked down the road. The city was like a large circle, making it a bit easier to know where they were going. Both men were chatting as they walked alongside one another, glancing in either direction for anything they hadn’t yet noticed.

“It’s getting late,” Fives commented at one point as they were about to round the corner back towards the front of the largest building, the center of it all, that housed the Governor.

“You heard Commander Skywalker, search top to bottom.”

“Yeah,” Fives scoffed, “search top to bottom of what? Dirt?”

Rex stopped and faced the other clone, tapping his friend on the arm, “We do what we were told, take a look again and see if we missed anything.”

“Alright alright, fine,” the other replied, and they both faced the front of the city, but Rex shoved his arm forward for his friend to stop, giving a quiet stop order, and Fives followed his gaze.

In the distance, they saw Governor Shuule exiting one of the resident buildings, glancing around for anyone who was watching. The two clones quickly stepped around the corner of the nearest building to hide in the shadows, kneeling to the ground to stay as quiet as possible. Rex quickly turned his helmet light off and peered around the corner once again.

Governor Shuule quickly moved around the corner of the door, shutting it tightly behind him and seeming to release a pent up breath. His body relaxed for a moment before straightening and spinning around to face the entrance of his own palace (although he wouldn’t call it that, it was a “home to many”).

Rex’s stomach dropped for a moment, watching the man almost float back inside, carrying himself with as much pride as Dooku did.

“What was that about?” Fives finally spoke, and Rex looked back at him.

“No idea. Wanna find out?”

“Don’t even need to ask,” Fives replied, and both clones carefully made their way to the dark home the Governor had just left.

It was a normal cottage, well as normal as the other ones had looked at least. The outer wall was made of rock, keeping with the design of the tall mountains found nearby, with a metal door and normal windows. Not suspicious at all, unless someone is sneaking out of it of course. Of course, it was locked by a hand scanner, but Rex scoffed.

“Easy,” he mumbled, pulling something from his utility belt and dusting it onto the panel. It was silent for a few moments before beeping happily, and the metal door slid open. Both clones stepped carefully inside, and activated the lights on their helmets once again.

The outside of the building made it look as if there was a large room you were entering into, but that wasn’t the case. The clones stood on a small landing, but the ground beneath them descended down into a dark pit, stairs seeming to twist around a corner. Rex took the lead, taking quiet steps down the stairs, Fives just a few steps behind.

“What do you think he is keeping down here?” Fives questioned, earning a shrug from his companion.

“Something he doesn’t want us to know about,” Rex offered.

The stairs seemed to just keep spiraling, leading the two men deeper and deeper into the ground. The rocky texture was similar to the rest of the planet, with a hung light every once in awhile. How anyone could see down here without proper light, they didn’t know. The deeper they went, there were noises that seemed to resonate louder with each step.

Rex lifted his hand and stopped walking, Fives halting his movements and glancing down, “What is it?”

“There’s an opening,” Rex replied, motioning to the few steps left that were brightly lit, indicating an opening that had some source of light in it. The noise they could make out clearly now sounded like chatter around a room, “Proceed with caution, we don’t know what we’re about to walk into.”

“Yes, sir,” Fives replied, and the two made their final steps down, not prepared for what they were about to see.

The room was a large cave, littered with what they could imagine were the 30 missing souls. There were so many different species, and as they stepped down into the opening, in awe, a group off to the side turned around.

“What the-“

“Clones! We’re saved!”

“They’ve found us!”

Voices began to radiate in the rocky cavern, and with a glance between the two, Rex and Fives took a couple steps forward towards the group that was approaching them. A Twilek, a couple humans, and a Quarren stood in front of them.

“What is going on here?” Rex questioned.

“Shuule has imprisoned us down here,” the Quarren replied, his voice hoarse, “many of us are sick, in desperate need of medical attention.”

“How many of you are there?” Fives asked next.

“Thirty in total,” the Twilek spoke next, her eyes were dark and droopy, “about a dozen are sick, we haven’t eaten in days.”

Fives looked to Rex, who glanced only for a moment at him, “Why would Shuule hide his own people down here with no food?”

“His people..” a human voice managed from the back, causing the Twilek and Quarren to move out of the way. Behind them stood a human female, whose face looked hollow around the cheeks, and skin that had hints of purple like they were freezing. Definitely the worst of the crowd, they were being helped stood up by another on their side.

“Shuule has made his mark in this world by.. by stealing people from their homes.. families,” their voice shook with each word, and as they spoke the crowd only seemed to grow, “and bringing them here to be his slaves.”

Slaves.

Anakin hated slave owners. It made his skin crawl and blood boil when Rex told him over their comm links. Obi-Wan and Anakin had excused themselves when their commas blinked green, indicating a message coming in. Obi-Wan quickly turned to his Padawan, who he had to grasp onto.

“Anakin-“

“That dirty, no good lying son of a-“

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s voice was more forceful this time, making his Padawan stop, breathing heavily with his fists clenched, “We cannot make a hasty judgement right now, we don’t know what Shuule is capable of.”

“Oh I can tell you what he’s capable of that disgusting-“

“Our best course of action,” he interrupted, “is to have Rex and Fives evacuate those who are locked away, get them to a medical ship and then the rest to safety. Return them to their homes if we can.”

Anakin shook his head, finally letting out a more calmed tone of voice, “You’re right, Master. We‘ll distract him, and have the men evacuate those people.”

Looking at the same rocky walls everyday was torture in a new way. And you had been a slave on Tatooine until you were of age and your parents debts were paid off. Needless to say, these orange rocks made you feel crazier then the hot sand of your early life.

You were the first to revolt against Shuule. You had earned you freedom from Tatooine and he stole that from you the day before you were set to leave that desert planet. You were tired of having to wait hand and foot on a man you had hoped to just perish one day.

It’s what he deserved for everything he had done, to everyone here.

You said no to his orders, stunning him and others. He turned around so quickly with his hand fiercely against your face. It had stung, but you didn’t back down.

You said no.

He promptly locked you down here. It was a shock that he had it ready for a situation like this but you weren’t surprised, he was capable of the dirtiest and lowest of things. The first two nights you curled into a ball against this stupid rock and didn’t sleep much.

He visited you two days later, carrying food and water on a silver platter and kneeling in front of you. He had honey eyes and a somber look on his face, offering your sad soul the water first. You took it. That was your mistake. He let you finish everything, really you had inhaled it but there was no difference, with a smug grin. That was when he told you.

“You chose this ending my love.. but don’t worry, the poison should work soon enough.”

You were dying. That bastard poisoned you, and almost everyone else who came down here. You had tried to warn them not to eat the food, and some had listened, but the call of hunger was too strong for some. It had only been a few days, most surviving off just water but we all knew that wouldn’t be able to last forever.

“What are we going to do?” your Quarren friend asked. There was a group of you, the first ones who had been down here, that were looked to as leaders. The ones who wanted to revolt in the first place. Ultimately, the ones who caused this mess.

“Someone will come. Someone will find us,” you managed, your voice weak and you rested your back against another’s.

“How do you know that?”

“I have hope,” you smiled.

Then here they were. The clones now identified as Commander Rex and Fives. They walked around, scanning everyone and counting each head. As soldiers do. When they came to you, Fives was the one to speak to you first.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you managed. Your group of friends surrounded you, letting you rest against the rocky wall, your arms laid in your lap and your eyes tired. They looked at you with pity.

You hated that.

“And your last name?” Rex had asked.

You shook your head, “Don’t-“ you closed your eyes, your breath hitching in your throat.

“It’s okay,” Fives places his heavy hand over yours, “we’re going to help you. I promise.”

You nodded, opening your eyes to meet the face of the two men before you, “I know.. I knew you would come.”

“You did,” Rex more so said then asked.

You offered a weak smile, “Maybe not you two specifically.. but I knew someone would. Better now than later.”

“Was that a joke?” Gives asked you, earning a nod from you in response. They chuckled for a moment, before there was a sudden shake in the ground.

“That can’t be good,” Fives commented, both of them standing and placing their helmets on.

“Go up and see what the devil is going on,” Rex commanded. Fives responded with a yes sir and hurried back up the stairs. Others in the cave began to chatter, and your friends all knelt down to help you up.

You felt you didn’t have much longer, but maybe if you could just manage up those stairs-

Rex stood and put his helmet back on, and Fives was scurrying back down, “Sir! The door is blocked. The droids have attacked the city, General Kenobi has sent some of the others to secure the rest of the people, but we cannot get out the way we came.”

Those nearby began to talk louder, what were they to do now? Rex looked all around, before noticing in the distance what seemed to be an opening, maybe a way out. He pointed where the cave opened to darkness.

“Where does that lead?” He asked.

“That.. It shouldn’t go anywhere.” One of your friends answered.

“Well we need to try,” Rex said, “we have to try and get out of here, and survive. It’s our best bet.”

You nodded in agreement, struggling to hold yourself up even with the help of others. They were weak as well, but Captain Rex and Fives were quick to hold you upright. They motioned for your friends to let them help you, and they obliged.

“Thank you,” you said to them both.

“We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind,” Fives commented, earning a small laugh from you. That made him smile beneath his helmet, all while Rex shook his head. Not the time or place, he thought.

People hurried down the dark cave opening, it was almost like a perfectly made hallway. Where did it go? No one knew. The only lights guiding them were produced from the helmets of the clone troopers. It felt like you were walking forever, but maybe that was just because your strength was leaving your body. A couple times the men had to almost lift you enough that your feet glided across the ground.

You told yourself you would not die on this planet.

The crowd seemed to come to a stop, the people in front of you becoming more and more vocal. Rex and Fives, while carrying you at this point, had to push their way through the crowd.

Your stomach dropped at the sight, maybe even theirs as well. The cave did come to a large opening.

But it was completely blocked by boulders. Something must have caved in. Needless to say, you were trapped. Some people began to weep. The ground still occasionally shook as a battle raged up top, some words filtered through your mind.

We’re trapped!

I can’t go back, my legs are too weak.

I just want to go home.

“Put me down,” you mustered, earning a glance from Rex, “please just put me down.”

They set you back down enough to where your feet touched the ground, your legs wobbled a bit under the pressure, but you released your arms that were hung around each clones shoulders. You took a step forward, and those around you parted slightly.

“(Y/N)-“ a voice said, you’re not too sure who said it, not in that moment.

“I’m not dying like this,” you said, pausing only for a moment as the rest of the people in front of you, “we are not dying like this. Not here, not in this place,” you were finally in front of everyone gazing at the rocks in front of you, “I had hope and I could feel someone would come and find us, and I’m not giving that hope up.”

You had never done this before. Not really. It was only ever just a feeling that you would follow. You took a breath and with closed eyes, you just focused on that feeling. You didn’t know what you were doing, but the silence you had once heard filled your ears in a tone that felt like you were fading yourself.

But then your skin felt warm.

Your eyes fluttered open only for a moment, and the rocks that were once in front of you were know gone, seemingly placed somewhere else in the canyon that was now opened to you. Those around you hurried past you, but your legs buckled from below you.

Rex was the one who caught you before you hit the ground, your eyes closed tightly and skin cool to the touch. What he had just witnessed was something he believed only a Jedi could do. The com on his wrist blinked green, Fives was busy keeping everyone together, and checking on those who had to lower themselves to the ground to sit.

“Captain Rex, please come in,” the voice called. He could recognize it as General Skywalker any day, he knelt down as he held you in his free arm.

“Sir, we’ve managed to get out the cave, but-“

“That’s great, we’re sending a medical transport to your location now.”

“Yes sir,” Rex replies into the com, “but General-“

“We can discuss it when we return to the ship, but right now we need to focus on getting everyone to safety, and Shuule in for his conviction.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, focusing down at your nearly lifeless body.

How did you get here?

When your eyes finally reopened you were in a bed, a blanket over top your body, and the room was large, fitting multiple people in a row on each of your sides. Your head fell to the side as you tried to find something of familiarity, only seeing a medical droid a few beds down, along with the clone you had come to know as Fives. He glanced up at just the right moment, saying something to the droid, before making his way over.

“How’re we feeling?” he asked you. Your head rolled back so you were looking straight at the ceiling, the medical droid coming over to read your vitals.

“I feel.. Good. Better than before,” you answered, earning a nod and small smile.

“I’ve been tasked with trying to locate everybody’s home worlds, and finding them a way back to their families, so can you tell me-”

“I don’t have a home,” you cut him off, your eyes were locked with his but he diverted them away from yours. He cleared his throat, and moved out the way as the medical droid asked you if he could sit you upright. You nodded, pushing yourself up on your elbows as it adjusted your pillows, and helped you slide backwards into a sitting position.

“Where were you hoping to go then?”

You thought about it for a moment, “I don’t really know.. When I was freed I had bought passage on the next ship out, I didn’t care where. I was going to look for someone.”

“And who was that?” he asked you.

Anakin was walking alongside his Master towards the bay they had converted into a place to house the refugees. The two were engrossed in a conversation, being followed by Rex behind them. They were heading to follow up with Fives about what he has documented so far. Anakin had to postpone his debriefing with Captain Rex for the moment as they awaited new orders about getting these people back to their homes.

Obi-Wan had told Anakin he was proud of him and how he handled Shuule, and not letting his anger dictate his actions. Anakin nodded, but he was still disgusted with the whole ordeal. He had yet to completely process the last 24 hours, especially with his lack of sleep, but he did feel more at ease.

The Force felt oddly calm.

The doors to the bay opened for the three man group, and they entered still having a casual discussion.

“The Council will have to act fast in this regard,” Obi-Wan was commenting. Anakin nodded, and they neared where Fives stood, “they may decide to send smaller vessels, avoid any kind of detection-”

“Ani?”

Anakin paused. No one besides Padme called him Ani, but it certainly was not her voice that quietly filled the room. It was uncertain, laced with a sweetness he hadn’t heard in awhile. Everyone was watching, and Anakin’s body faced the source of the voice. His mouth parted slightly in confusion, processing what was in front of him.

“(Y/N)?”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #star wars fic

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imjeralee · 4 years ago

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Comfort in Despair: Chapter 17 - Leon with Flowers, Part 2

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell - here is chapter 17

Leon with Flowers

(Part 2)

…

["I don't know how to describe the places I was in today, the searing pain and torment of thousands and thousands of beings, myself with them, tortured to their breaking point and then beyond. I did not want to believe that regions of such unspeakable horror existed. I moved through layer after layer of anguish, descending into more and more primitive levels until eventually I reached a level I can only liken to hell itself. Excruciating pain. The suffering tears you apart until you've died a thousand times and can't die any more. Then you find a way to die some more."

- A Perinatal Interpretation of Frightening Near-Death Experiences: A Dialogue with Kenneth Ring, by Christopher M. Bache, Ph.D.]

…

It’s time for dinner and you are starving but unfortunately for you, Graves cannot cook even if his life depended on it and so he takes you to Bob’s Your Uncle in Circhester for a swanky three dollar fifty burger meal.

You stand beside Graves with your Rotom who continues struggling to get a signal; he isn't doing so well for some reason and you're beginning to think maybe he could be ill and a trip to the Pokemon centre might be needed.

Beside you, a father and daughter duo are ordering food at the counter adjacent to yours. The dad bears a striking resemblance to Rose and is extraordinarily loud as he orders from the menu whilst his daughter cringes and glances around, hoping no-one is staring at them.

Graves is unaffected.

“Yeah, she’ll have the, uh, Bob’s cheeseburger meal with the Bob shake-shake fries and a Bob soda. I’ll have a Bob’s triple cheeseburger with extra Bob special sauce, Bob large fries, a portion of Bob nuggets and the Bob spicy wings,” he says as he leans on the counter and stares up at the menu board that hangs off the ceiling; the lightbulb is about to give way and it crackles and fizzes weakly.

Is there anything here that isn’t ‘Bob’? you wonder to yourself as the cashier reiterates the order.

Even the toilet signs are labelled ‘Bobs’ and ‘Bobettes’.

The cashier punches the order in and Graves pays, then he grabs two Bob straws and some Bob napkins and Bob-BQ sauce. He tells you to search for a seat whilst he waits for the food.

You haven’t eaten at Bob’s Your Uncle since Sonia took you a year ago or so, and the food is yummy but greasy and mostly geared towards families and kids; you find a quiet seat away from a large family of six where the exhausted-looking parents deal with their screaming children who are playing with plastic Centiskorch figurines.

And Graves arrives in a few minutes with a large tray of food.

“Here we are,” he says, placing the tray down and rubbing his hands together as you glance at the two wrapped burgers, the fries, the nuggets and wings; he begins stripping the paper covers of the Bob straws and hands one to you, “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

He holds up two Centiskorch figurines wrapped in plastic. “They gave me these for free. One for you and one for me.”

Although it's been a while, Graves still treats you like a baby.

You want to decline but Graves hands you one and pockets his own, then picks up his large Bob burger, inspects it briefly before taking a large bite.

“How's your arm?” he grunts out.

"I'm fine. How was your talk with Rose?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah, this is for you," Graves fumbles in his pockets before he pulls out an envelope for your taking, "I know you told me to look for the painting but we swept the entire area and found no painting made of human skin, hair and blood."

"Damn it. Rose hasn't contacted me for any follow-up nor has he mentioned anything regarding my payment."

"I covered it. You don't need to do a thing. I spoke to him about your contract and terms and conditions, also told him you're my goddaughter so we came to a mutual agreement. I managed to persuade Rose that he was being a bit too quick to penalise and you're still kids so you're bound to mess up and he agrees he's being harsh, so he says he understands your hard efforts and he says thank you for everything you've done, so he's forking out a bit more than what was on your contract. But I don't want you speaking to Rose anymore and he don't wanna talk to you either."

"I didn't mess up," you bark as you lift the flap and pull out a little piece of paper lodged inside. It's a cheque and the figure is huge. In fact, the sum is bigger than any case you've taken. Your eyes widen in their sockets at the extortionate amount and you gape at Graves.

"You did well," he says.

"This is hush money," you hiss, waving the cheque in the air.

"Just be glad you got some kind of compensation."

"What about Tanner and Cole?"

"They got paid too. The amount was less than yours, of course."

"Are you serious?! They got paid off too???" you exclaim. Graves merely blinks numbly and you growl in response, your fist curling tightly around the cheque, "I don't want it."

He narrows his eyes, puts down his burger and you know he's serious when the food is no longer his priority. Looking at you squarely in the eye, Graves jabs a finger at your direction and says, "Here's some advice: take the damn money."

"You don't understand-"

"No, I do understand. You're bitter and angry and you look like you're in the wrong. He used you and he's managed to shift it in his favour. He got away with it and I get how you're feeling, with the injustice of it all. But this is Chairman Rose of Macro Cosmos we're talking about and we have no proof of whatever shady business he was up to which you and I both know, and this is the best I could do. And I'm very sorry, but you need to accept it, okay?"

"But-"

"This is a life lesson. Learn from this."

".............Fine," you begrudgingly grunt under your breath after a prolonged and insufferable, tense bout of hesitation, and you angrily stuff the cheque into a random pocket of your bag and concentrate on devouring the rest of your meal.

The atmosphere has turned horrendous and as usual, it's because you and Graves are at odds some way or the other and an uneasy silence spawns between you and your godfather. Frustrated, you discover you may no longer have any appetite if you look at him any longer therefore you avert your gaze to the window where various passerbys with their Snoms and Bergmites brush past and Graves focuses ahead at the wall behind your head. Occasionally, he will clear his throat and grunt.

"I got a question," he suddenly says.

“What?”

“Are you dating Leon?”

You almost choke on a fry. “No.”

His expression scrunches with mild disbelief whilst you avert your glimpse to your lap and Graves raises a brow.

"I know that look. I know what that means," he says, but your lips remain sealed. "Alright, you don’t wanna tell me. That’s fine. It’s none of my business anyway. As long as you’re not doing drugs or smoking or whatever, I’m not going to pry.”

You suppose you can tell him, Graves being your godfather and all.

“Leon and I met in the Wild Area a while ago; this was before the Giant's Seat incident. He helped me with a case, and afterwards I warned him not to go near the Giant’s Seat due to the missing people. He somehow went there anyway and I saved him. He wanted to thank me so I had dinner at his house. I guess you can say it’s strictly business.”

“Business….?”

You nod. “Then I took Rose’s case and Leon came and-“

Graves waits for you to finish but you have frozen in your seat so he says, "And?”

“He came to save me,” you murmur, “That’s the first thing he did. He raced over to save me.”

He observes as a smile blooms on your face and you sigh. As you think about Leon, your smile widens.

"I know that look as well," Graves utters, brows raising a further time as he grabs a napkin and dabs at the corner of his mouth. "Well, it's about time you got yourself a boyfriend. And I'm damn relieved it's not that pal of yours, Jace. It's great that it's the Champion, I don't need to vet him."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a right to know and meet the boy you're dating. Your dad will be so worried-"

You and Graves blink at each other, before he sighs.

"You know, when you were unconscious, they said you called out for your parents a lot," he mutters, "I have a photo of them. I think you should have it.”

Placing his burger down, Graves wipes his greasy hands clean with a wet wipe before he pulls out his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and brings out a glossy print.

You take it off him after you settle your own burger down and wipe your hands. It’s a small photo of your mother and father sitting on a picnic mat with a baby bouncing on their laps. It’s you, and beside them are their pokemon: Ghastly and Sableye. You also spot a young Graves with a blonde-haired young woman to their left.

“Is that Ellen?” you ask, “your girlfriend?”

Graves raises a brow, surprised. “How’d you know?”

“I remember her.”

“I’m surprised you do.”

“I remember mum and dad mentioning her a few times. What happened to her?”

“She passed away."

“…I wasn’t aware. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“Car crash. It was a while ago, I've dealt with it.”

You wonder if this is Graves’ attempt to bond with you and your table grows quiet as Graves chews silently before he swallows down the rest of his burger.

“I don’t like to think about it,” he says when he’s finished, “…If she went to heaven or hell or not. I like to just think that she’s…well…that’s it. It’s over. You’re gone. There’s nothing. It’s…a simulation or something. I don’t like to think about what’s on the other side. I don’t want to think about returning to this earth. This is hell, I believe. This is punishment.”

Aware that you’re discussing with Graves about mortality and this is the most he’s spoken to you about the great beyond, you sit up properly in your seat for a change.

“There are accounts from those who experience NDE’s-“

“What’s that?”

“'Near Death Experience'.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, these accounts insinuate the existence of a heaven and hell. There are some who saw a light or experienced overwhelming peace, and then there are those who describe descending into an unending darkness and hearing the most inhumane noises known to man. And lastly, some saw nothing but darkness and a hoofed creature.”

“Good grief,” Graves chokes out, and he looks uncomfortable so you decide to stop.

“Try not to see it that way,” you add in an attempt to lighten the gloomy atmosphere, “life is too short. Make the most of it while you can.”

Graves wipes at his forehead with a clean napkin before he nods briefly. “Listen, kid, I’m sorry if you ever felt like I wasn’t there for you or if I didn’t do enough. I think about that night and I...I miss your father a lot. I miss your family. And I know you’re still mourning for them,” he says, “I know.”

"I-"

Rotom flies from your pocket and zooms into the air, grinning widely. "I'm baaaaaack! ZZzzzignal!!! Bzz bzz bzz! Zrttt! Oh my dayzzz, you've received five mezzagezzz and three mizzzzed callzzzz from Le-Le-Le-Leon!"

"Uh...Is your phone okay?"

"Yeah, he's just excited."

You grab Rotom and he allows you to check what Leon has sent you: he tells you he dropped by the hospital but you had left. He's been trying to reach you and he called Sonia but she doesn't know where you are either. You quickly type a reply, apologising for not being able to reply on time and that Graves had picked you up.

"Graves, can we go?" you ask, when you finish replying and Rotom moves to hover near your shoulder with a huge grin on his face.

Your godfather grunts under his breath. "Fine, let me finish the fries first..."

After dinner, it’s getting late and although you're desperate to go home, Graves asks if you want to stay over. Graves has a house in Wyndon and he does have a room for you should you ever decide to stay with him but you decline because you’re used to staying with Magnolia and Sonia. Regardless, he tells you the room is available for you should you ever need it.

He drives you to Wedgehurst, navigating his car over the bumpy road of Route 2 and he drops you off at the doorstep of the quaint house, parking the car beside the lawn; the front door subsequently opens upon your arrival and Magnolia comes hobbling out followed by Sonia, Poltea and Cutie.

You all share an embrace as Graves exits the car to open the boot to grab your possessions.

“Thank you, Inspector Graves,” Magnolia says as Graves waddles up with your bag slung over his shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” he says; he’s so tall he towers over your entire group.

“Would you like to stay for tea?”

“We already ate,” Graves says with a guffaw.

Everyone heads inside; Magnolia and Graves bring their conversation to the conservatory whilst Sonia helps you with your bag and you head upstairs together.

“You seem to be getting along better,” she comments as you climb the steps with the pokemon clinging to your shoulders.

“He’s trying his best,” you reply as Cutiefly nuzzles your cheek affectionately.

“Leon popped by earlier,” Sonia says, “He said he wasn't able to reach you and was dying to know if you were back home or not. When I said you weren’t, he left with Charizard. He looked really sad.”

"Yeah, I've had terrible signal problems all day," you reply, and Sonia raises a brow.

“I knew there was something going on between you,” she replies, before she flashes you a wide grin. “Don’t leave him hanging.”

“I already messaged him, Sonnie, don’t worry.”

Once you’re in your shared bedroom, Sonia plops down on her bed with a sigh and your shadow contorts in bizarre fashion; this can only mean one thing, and Gengar promptly emerges. He seems happier to be back home than in the hospital.

“Hey Gengar,” you say, whilst he swims around in the air, carefree. You rummage through your bag to find Mimikyu and Runerigus’ capsule and proceed to let them out.

Runerigus is the newest addition to your team and although you’re a little anxious to release him, Tanner has informed you he is a ‘chill guy’, which is a little odd to describe a pokemon but you take Tanner’s words to heart as the stone pokemon emerges before you.

You were under the impression that he would be quite a large and intimidating pokemon but he is in fact, shorter than Gengar who looms over it. From what you know about Runerigus, they're solitary pokemon who can live for many years and their bodies consist of the grey slabs pieced together by cursed shadow matter. Your team is growing bigger but nevertheless your pokemon gather round and Sonia leaps from the bed to stand behind you, peering over your shoulders.

“Oh, a Runerigus…Where’d you get him from?” she asks as Runerigus looks around his surroundings cautiously.

“From a painting made out of human skin, hair and blood,” you reply, and she shudders violently, “I heard he’s nice.”

“Okay….”

You focus on the pokemon and say, “Welcome,” as Runerigus exchanges glances between all of you, “I hope you like it here.”

Looking right and left with its single purple eye, it clasps its large hands together and nods. It appears to be trying to communicate as it continues shifting its gaze up and down until it spots Leon’s poster on your wall and appears stunned, glancing at his image. It shuffles over, its rocky body dragging against the floorboards and emitting sounds identical to a fork scraping on a plate; Sonia clamps her hands over her ears from the deafening noise.

It stops in front of Leon’s poster and turns to you, pointing at it eagerly.

“Ohh, I get it. You need something to haunt,” you say, and it nods fiercely. “Go ahead.”

It flaps its arms up and down energetically before it inspects Leon’s print from head to toe, then it proceeds to spring up and off the ground and dives for the poster; you and Sonia stare with widened eyes; instead of crashing into the wall, it dissolves inside and the poster ripples.

Leon’s eye, which was once a beautiful golden hue, converts to a brutal shade of violet.

“Are you sure about this?” Sonia asks, cocking her head and crossing her arms with her finger under her chin.

You nod as Runerigus looks around before his eye creases with content. “Yep. He looks right at home. I'm fine with that.”

“As long as he doesn’t peep on us whilst we’re changing, I’m fine too.” Sonia adds.

Runerigus rolls his single eye.

As the evening progresses, Runerigus returns to his capsule after hanging around in Leon's poster for a while, Graves bids farewell after he's chatted with the professor and returns home, Magnolia goes to sleep and Sonia asks if you want to go with her to attend some exclusive makeup event with Nessa that’s taking place in Hotel Ionia. You politely decline because you want to spend some time with your Pokemon.

Therefore, you are alone and left to your own devices and you haven't received any response from Leon yet and you don't know where he is or what he's up to. However, instead of waiting around like a lovesick Lillipup, you opt to be productive and since you’re no longer going to take on any cases for the time being, you make some edits to your homepage, outlining that you will go on a much needed hiatus.

You also begin packing away some of your tools, namely the Khira dagger and your talismans which you tuck away into a safety box that you keep under the bed.

With Graves’ photo, you place it inside the box where it joins a small stash of old, salvaged photographs.

One photograph depicts your parents on their wedding day and the other is the last photo you took together as a family: a trip to Dendemille Town with a rented RV. You rub your thumb gently over their smiling faces.

Another photograph contains yourself and Jace. Not only did you have a questionable hairstyle and fashion sense but you appear jaded with a timid smile whilst Jace is grinning and shaking your hand, marking the beginning of a long-lasting friendship. Considering how long you have been friends, it’s then you realise Jace isn’t exactly the best candidate to take over should anything happen to you and you will need to find someone else….but that’s a thought for another day, you suppose.

Next, you grab your old journal where you had detailed Ezra’s teachings and all the symbols and exorcism prayers he taught you. You flip through the notes you made on pronunciation, translations and all your trials and errors and your mistakes.

As you continue packing, you pull out your radio and dad's journal from your bag which you will continue to keep with you for now.

Although you're not going to take on any cases, you head to the Pokemon research lab with the pokemon to conduct some research on Mimikyu and her speech capabilities.

The walk doesn’t take long and recalling that people actively call you the Witch of Wedgehurst behind your back, it is uncomfortable to make eye contact with anyone along the way and you pull the hood over your head, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your garment and keep your head down.

Once you arrive, you unlock the door, head inside and meander to your work space.

As usual, your desk is rather dusty and your whiteboard is still in the same place where you had left it a while ago; the pictures of the missing gym challengers and the map of the Wild Area are still fastened over the surface.

Although you hesitate for a split second as you scrutinise their smiling faces, you quietly remove them and tidy the photos away in one of your drawers before you grab an eraser and scrub away your notes, bullet points and other various scribbles. Once the board is cleared, you use a black marker pen and on the newly cleaned space, write some letters of the alphabet on the whiteboard as large as you can and set up three chairs for the pokemon for your experiment.

Releasing them, Gengar and Mimikyu sit down whilst Runerigus hops up on the seat and his head almost hits one of the low-hanging lights which makes you grimace. Nevertheless, he clamps his hands together patiently and since he’s been under your care, he has been a rather docile pokemon despite living in a human skin slash hair portrait.

You glance at your pokemon one by one and smile. “Hi everyone, thanks for joining me today. We're not going to work on any cases for the time being so now that I have some downtime, I’d like to test your ability to speak. I’m aware Mimi can say a lot already, but I’d appreciate if everyone can join in.”

Everyone nods and you grab one of Magnolia’s wooden canes from the side, using it to tap the first letter which represents A.

“This is the letter ‘A’,” you pronounce it loud and clearly for them, “Mimi, I’d like you to go first. Repeat after me.”

“A,” says Mimi, with virtually no problem whatsoever.

“Good job,” you reply and Mimikyu giggles, wiggling two tendrils happily in the air.

Now it’s Gengar’s turn.

He struggles, clenching his teeth viciously before he grunts out, “Geng-ah.”

“Not bad. but try saying ‘ah’ first.”

”Ah-geng,” says Gengar, and Mimikyu lets out a snort of laughter.

“Runerigus?”

Everyone turns to the grudge pokemon next and Runerigus has been silent the entire time; however, you're amazed when he emits a rather high-pitched, grating shriek from somewhere.

“Screeeee……!!!”

You, Gengar and Mimikyu uncontrollably wince until he stops.

"Scree?"

“Interesting," you murmur under your breath, "And this is the letter ‘B’…Runerigus, do you want to have a go?"

“Screeeee……screeeee-eee-ee!!!” Runerigus shrieks wildly as he flaps his hands up and down. As though aware he is unable to properly pronounce, Runerigus blinks for a fraction for a second and tries again, “SCREEEEE!!!”

“Mi mi!!! Mi mi mi mimikyuu!” Mimikyu jumps up and down in her seat and rants heavily in response to Runerigus’ screeching, pointing her claws at him accusingly.

“Calm down, it’s not his fault,” you say, as tensions run high.

Poor thing, beads of sweat begin dotting the stone slab and so unfortunately, you agree he should stop.

It’s Gengar’s turn now, and he says, “Beng-ar.”

You take down notes in your journal, scribbling down how Runerigus has zero speech capabilities and Gengar can only say his species name with mild alterations despite possessing human teeth and a human tongue.

Mimikyu on the other hand, can pronounce the letters perfectly and proceeds to recite much of the alphabet with very little trouble. She tells you she learned some words when she watched TV whilst pretending to be some kid's toy. She smugly dances and happily twirls in her seat whilst Runerigus and Gengar are totally defeated and throws their limp gazes to the floor.

“Guys, it’s okay,” you try to cheer them up but they look at you sadly.

The pokemon are dejected despite your reassurance and a twang of guilt hits you in the gut until a gentle knock on the door captures your attention. Looking away from your unhappy pokemon, the door to the research lab squeaks open and a purple-haired young man enters the establishment with Charizard trailing after him.

You freeze on the spot and the atmosphere in the lab becomes intense in nanoseconds. Your heart jumps in your throat upon his arrival and he glances at his surroundings before his gaze lands on you as you stand limply by the whiteboard and once his golden eyes meets yours, you struggle with your breath as your cheeks grow warm, your gut clinching uncomfortably.

It's Leon.

He's here.

He's finally here.

You swallow down the growing lump in your throat as he carefully strides over with his hands behind his back.

He's in a new shirt. The muscles in his arms seem to bulge more than ever. His hair looks longer, more tame. Did he always smile at you like that? Did he always look at you like that? You are noticing these little things about him all of a sudden though you're unsure why.

“H-hi Leon,” you stutter out whilst you tuck a loose lock of hair behind your ear that falls in front of your eyes, “What are you doing here?”

It’s happening. It’s happening all over again. The blushing, the stammering, the racing heart, the butterfrees dancing in the stomach. It shouldn't be happening, but it is.

And then you remember the almost-kiss.

As you fret on the spot, Leon says, “I-I came by the house but no-one came to the door so I...I thought I’d find you here.”

He's stammering too, his voice laced with nervousness.

It's not just you.

Leon anxiously steps closer, his light footsteps echoing audibly over the lab's pristine floor; he stops a short distance from you and shoots a quick glance at your pokemon in their little chairs in front of the whiteboard with all letters of the alphabet and chuckles, “What’s this? Pokemon School?”

“Um…Sort of. Mimi can speak human language so I wanted to test the others too...”

“That sounds interesting, how’s it going so far?”

“…S’okay,” is your timid reply as you clutch the cane to your chest with both hands and shift your gaze to the side.

He smiles warmly at you and as you dare to look up, your eyes meet for a second and simultaneously, you both look away. Whilst you hastily cast your glance to one of the bookshelves on the second floor, Leon throws his glimpse to a random potted plant in the corner.

Clearing his throat loudly, he stands with his hands gingerly placed behind his back. In fact, he’s been holding his hands behind his back the entire time. He appears to be puffing his chest out a little.

“I went to the hospital; I wanted to visit you but you weren’t there."

You nod. Your gazes meet but this time, you do your best not to look away and neither does he. “Yeah…I got discharged and Rotom couldn't get any signal until just there. Sorry.”

His expression lights up when he realises you do not look away and you witness him falter slightly on the spot under your piercing stare and he lets out a nervous-sounding laugh. "Ah, it's okay, there's no need to apologise. I took too long and couldn't find the time to go and see you. I should be the one apologising."

You shake your head.

There is another quiet moment between you two albeit not an uncomfortable one as you stand near one another, staring; Leon’s voice seems to have gone into hiding as you smile at him and his smile widens too before he murmurs, “I, uh…I wanted to give these to you."

He reveals his hands, slowly lifting them out and presenting a large bouquet of beautiful, multi-coloured flowers from behind his back.

Your eyes widen thoroughly; you were not expecting this at all.

Gengar gawks whilst Mimikyu blinks. Charizard wheezes and chortles and Runerigus flings glances between you and the Champion.

“Um, I….I hope you like them," he stutters, coughing into his fist briefly.

Leon has brought you flowers.

Choosing to lurk behind the plethora of florets, he does not see you gently reaching for the bouquet, and your fingers brush together accidentally; he stiffens all over as you wrap your hands firmly around the light pink cellophane wrapper before you gently lift it out of Leon’s grasp. He watches as your eyes sparkle with delight, the corner of your lips curling into a fond smile as you carefully run a finger over the petal of a delicate looking lilac flower.

“They’re beautiful,” you murmur softly, “Thank you, Leon.”

His confidence fully restored by your words, Leon grins widely and he takes a small step forwards; however, he's also quick to change his mind, clearing his throat once more and returning to his previous spot. With freed hands, he removes his cap and cradles it gingerly in front of his chest, his messy hair sticking in all sorts of directions.

“I’m sorry, I would do this better if I knew how.”

"Do what?”

“Courting you."

You blink wide-eyed as your gazes lock together once again before you decide to bring the bouquet closer to you, covering as much of your face as you can behind the flowers.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I asked the florist for help,” he admits as he hides his lower face behind his cap, cheeks growing red.

You’re both hiding behind whatever you can get your hands on.

And he’s blushing again, which you think is cute but so are you; your face is also heating up uncontrollably.

“T-thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” you reply with a shaky but excited lilt embedded into your voice, “do you want to stay? I can make some tea….”

Leon’s expression dampens at once.

“………I can’t,” he almost groans aloud, “I have a busy night ahead.”

“Oh, well…maybe another time then.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“S-sure.”

“No problem.”

"Perhaps...you'd like to go camping with me again?"

"I'd love to."

"Great!"

"Just let me know when you're free."

"O-of course."

Once again, a sea of silence blankets the two of you until Charizard taps Leon on the shoulder and snorts loudly, his snout emitting short puffs of air. He jerks his head towards the door, growling.

“Right, I’d best be off now…I’ll see you,” Leon mutters, and you nod.

“Bye, Leon.”

“Goodbye.”

Leon returns his cap over his head, adjusting it properly; he stares intently at you and an immense bloom of joy swells within your chest as you clutch the flowers to yourself. Swept up by the longing depth of his gaze, you hide your face behind the flowers once again. Your cheeks are so hot, even the petals feel warm. He’s only forced to stop looking at you when Charizard taps him on his shoulder once more, indicating that they need to return to their duties.

"Goodnight," he says, with a widening grin.

"Goodnight."

Reluctantly, Leon turns away. As he makes his way to the exit, he will occasionally turn round and smile at you and Charizard will wave and you wave back; the flame pokemon waddles after his trainer and you watch as they both leave the lab, but not before Leon subjects you to one last look over his shoulder.

You’re finally able to breathe normally when the door closes behind them and Gengar and Mimikyu titter loudly in their seats whilst Runerigus slams his rocky tail against the floor with glee.

“Class dismissed,” you utter, and the pokemon are free to do as they please as you glance down at the bouquet in your hands.

Smiling, you lean down and take a quick whiff.

They smell heavenly.

...

#leon #dande #reader #reader insert #fanfic #fic #archive of our own #pkmn #pokemon #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #pokemon sword and shield #jeralee

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chaosqueery · 5 years ago

Text

Title: The Great Train Escape

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,765

Characters/Ships: Louise Belcher/ Rudolph “Regular Sized Rudy” Steiblitz

Description: When Louise hears that Rudy's father is still making him spend his Saturdays in the Juice Caboose, she decides to do something about it.

Alternative Links: (AO3)

A/N: This idea came to me after watching both 'My Girl' and 'Bridge to Terabithia' within a relatively short time of each other. But don't worry. Both make it out alive just fine in this.

Rudy sat on the hard floor of his Saturday morning cell, the juice caboose, lonely and without any proper stimulation. Every week, he tried to put a positive spin on it. At least he got all the juice he could possibly want, right? Plus, it was a nice time to get his weekend homework done, while nearly all the other kids in his class waited until Sunday night and had to rush to finish. So, yeah. He could still manage a smile and maintain his politeness when boarding the train.

At the moment, however, he couldn’t be any more bored.

Rudy emptied the last bit of grape juice from its box and threw it at the wastebasket. When he missed, he let out a small groan, walked the few steps it took to grab the empty box, returned to his spot, and tried again. He repeated it a few more times, never making a basket until he saw something fly past the corner of his eye.

Interest peaked, he turned to investigate and found a paper airplane had landed on the floor. He was almost too excited for the break-in his monotonous trek around the lake, he hurried toward the plane, and unfolded it. A hastily written message was scrawled out on the page reading: ‘Prison break! Go to the window. -LB’

His breathing labored a bit with excitement, so after taking a puff off his inhaler he rushed over to the open window and saw his best friend, Louise, riding her bike alongside the train.

“Louise!” He called out happily. “What are you doing?”

“Ugh! Didn’t you read the note? I am busting you out of there!”

“But I don’t have anything to climb down with.”

“I got you covered, buddy.” She takes one hand off the handlebars of her bike and shrugs off her backpack. “Move your head away from the window!” Louise ordered, preparing to throw the bag.

Rudy did as he was told and a moment later the backpack flew in through the window on her first try. Damn. Her aim was most certainly better than his. He opened the bag and wound up pulling out a long rope ladder.

“You got it?” He heard Louise yell.

“Yeah!”

“Then hook it on the bottom of the window and climb down!”

Rudy was about to follow her instructions when something suddenly occurred to him. “Hold on a minute!” Rudy rushed out of the bathroom and grabbed his own backpack. He then ripped out a clean sheet of paper from one of his notebooks, wrote a quick note, then placed it on the floor where it could easily be found.

Ready to go, Rudy went back over to the window, hooked the metal part of the ladder over the bottom edge, and threw the rest of it over to dangle outside. He then gripped tightly onto the rope and climbed out of the window. He tried to take one step at a time as gracefully as he could, but the swaying of the ladder made it hard. Thankfully he managed to finally make it to the bottom and stepped off.

“So you can climb down a ladder out of a moving train, but can’t climb off a bunk bed without breaking your arm?” Louise asked when she stopped her bike next to him and planted her feet on the ground.

“Yeah, well…” He scratched the back of his head, not really having an explanation for it.

“What took you so long anyway?”

“I had to leave a note for Ethan saying I was okay and that I’d be back.”

“Oh, crap.”Louise face-palmed. “I don’t know how I forgot about him. Will he get you in trouble?”

“No, I don’t think so. He’s been super nice to me ever since the last time you were here. I think he feels a lot of remorse for what he did to Bean Bag.” Rudy frowned at the thought of his poor old friend who was torn apart. “What made you want to come to bust me out anyway?”

Louise shrugged casually. Really, she felt bad when he told her the other day that his father still dragged him on these wine train trips and had to spend a significant amount of his Saturday alone with nothing to do. She wouldn’t care if it were anyone else. But Rudy was always so nice about everything and rarely ever complained. His weekends should be better than this. Louise, however, was not about to reveal the soft spot she had for him. “Today was one of the few Saturdays I have off from working at the restaurant while Tina and Gene don’t. I got bored, thought I’d spring ya. No big deal.”

“Well, thanks for thinking of me! I don’t know how many more times I can go around Lake Waste Water without losing it.” He said gratefully.

Louise got off her bike and grabbed Rudy by the wrist to look at his watch. “Looks like we have about two and a half hours to get you back. What do you want to do?”

“Anything! I’m up for just about anything.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey, Louise! Look what I can do!” Rudy called for his friend’s attention from a low branch of the tree they were climbing. When she directed her attention to the boy about 15 feet closer to the ground than her, she saw him shift his weight and fall backward, dangling from the branch by his legs.

“Neat.” She commented, not really that impressed. Dangling was the easy part. “Just don’t crack your head open.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” He sounded a little less sure of himself now that he didn’t quite know how to pull himself back up. “But everything looks pretty cool upside-down. You should try it!”

“It’s cooler up here, Rudy. You should focus on getting right-side-up again and get up here.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” He swung back and forth, trying to gather enough momentum to pull himself back up. Try as he might, however, he couldn’t manage it. “Uhhhh, Louise?”

She let out a groan. “You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

Louise groaned again, this time longer and more frustrated. Partly because he needed help, but mostly because she found herself willing to give it. “Fine. Just hang tight.”

“I’m hanging on as tightly as I can!”

The strain in his voice urged Louise to move faster as she descended down the tree, fearing he would fall and seriously injure himself. That’s all that kid needed. Thankfully she had climbed enough trees to be sure-footed going down. When she eventually reached the branch he was hanging on, she extended her hand to grab one of his and hoisted him back up.

“Woah, head rush.” he breathed out as he wiggled on the branch to right himself. “Thanks, pal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get gross on me.” She said, rejecting the idea of a moment too mushy for her liking. It wasn’t much of anything, but she had a badass reputation to protect here! With how sweet she knows Rudy can be, she had to stop it before it started. “Now come on. We gotta get to the top.”

Rudy looked up the trunk of the tree and realized there is quite a far way yet to go. “Uh-well… okay, I guess.” His voice sounded a little unsure.

“Just stick close by. I’ll even slow down for you.” She stuck true to her word, stopping at every branch to wait for him to catch up. She even held in a groan when he needed to take a break for another puff on his inhaler. Slowly and surely, they finally climbed their way to the top.

Rudy pushed back some of the smaller branches in their way. When he caught sight of all that was around them, his mouth dropped open. It wasn’t that marvelous a sight, Louise thought. She could see the expanse of treetops that surrounded them, the lake, The Warf- nothing you couldn’t see from the top of the Ferris Wheel. There weren’t any people on the ground she could get excited to be towering over and mock. Really, all she appreciated was the accomplishment. She knew that Rudy did too, which is what made her so determined to make sure he did it. Her friend deserved more experiences like this. So when she saw the look of joyous wonder on his face, Louise had to turn her head to hide a smile.

They sat there for a while, Rudy excitedly pointing to all the cool things he could see, but eventually, Louise realized it had been a while since they left the train. Quickly, she grabbed Rudy’s wrist again to check the time. “Crap! We need to go now if you are going to make it back in time.”

“Aw, really?”

“Yes, really! You took too long climbing.” She grumbled, already starting to make her way back down.

~*~*~*~*~

“That was fun, but I’m sorry for being such a slowpoke.” Rudy apologized when they made it back to the train tracks.

“Stop being such a push-over, Rudes. It’s not like I was expecting Spiderman anyway.”

He gave a chuckle and shrugged. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“It was still a good time,” Louise assured him, nonchalantly. Then she gave him a punch on the arm that was meant to be friendly but wound up being a little too hard. Thankfully, he knew her and where it was coming from. “Maybe next time we can build a fort or something instead.”

“Next time?” The hopefulness to his voice was unmistakable.

“Uh-yeah. Sure. If I am confronted with another boring-ass day, I could make it out again.” Louise took a few extra seconds getting situated on her bike, afraid to see a look of disappointment on his face over her lack of enthusiasm. She couldn’t let herself show that she was honestly excited about the idea of more of these adventures. Not unless she was willing to reveal the fact that she enjoyed her time with more than she did with most people (the only exceptions being her family). When she finally looked at him, however, he looked as pleased as ever.

Her heart melted -just a tiny itsy bit- and she kind of hated him for it. Her hand was twitching to slap him across the face, but she didn’t. Instead, Louise brushed it off as much as she could and turned the conversation toward the train starting to pass.

“Alright, here’s your ride. You think you can grab hold of the ladder?”

Rudy put up his hands and shifted his weight from foot to foot, readying himself. “I got this!” They waited while each compartment passed, and when the Juice Caboose neared, he started to count off. “One, for the money. Two, for the show. Three, to-”’

“RUDY JUST JUMP!” Louise yelled, cutting him off before he missed it.

He did as he was told and leaped with all his might toward the back of the train and landed with an ‘oomf!’ on the small platform. After a short breath of relief, he moved to grab the ladder and climbed it as awkwardly as he had climbed down. But he was alive-at least he was alive. ‘I’d like to see Spiderman do that’

“Yes! You did it!” He heard Louise cheer.

Once he was able to crawl back into the train, he grabbed her backpack and returned to the window so he could roll up the ladder and stuff it back into her bag. He then tossed it out to her, and she brought her bike to a halt to pick it up.

“Thanks for breaking me out! See you at school!” He called out with a wave.

“Yeah, see ya, buddy!” She waved back as watched him ride off ahead of her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I am CONSIDERING making this into a series. But, as always, I can't promise anything.

Anyway, any like, reblogs, or comments are greatly appreciated!!!

#louwheeze #louise belcher #regular-sized rudy #rudy steiblitz #bob's burgers #fanfic #roudise #rouise

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eutheo · 4 years ago

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⟨ CHARLIE GILLESPIE. CIS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, THEODORE “THEO” MOSETTI is actually a descendent of H E R M E S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-ONE year old MCOGNITIVE PSYCHOLOGY MAJOR from NEW YORK, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite LOYAL & IMPULSIVE.

guess who’s back, back again? it’s me, the local mommy long legs here to give you yet another character for me to try and do justice too. as ALWAYS please dm me for plotting purposes for this hyperactive boy, he is a fairly good egg. let’s get into it.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME theodore james mosetti NICKNAME(S) theo, teddy, tj OCCUPATION cashier at fireside records (part-time) SEXUALITY: pansexual AGE 21 DATE OF BIRTH april 2nd NATIONALITY american RELIGION spiritual THREAT LEVEL 5/10

PHYSICAL INFORMATION

FACE CLAIM charlie gillespie HEIGHT 6 foot even EYE COLOR hazel HAIR COLOUR + STYLE brown, almost like a caramel color. slightly grown out (he hates hair cuts) DOMINANT HAND right DISTINGUISHING FEATURES warm and welcoming smile, shaggy hair, bright sparkly eyes, broad shoulders, full bushy brows, small beauty mark to right of nose, freckles scattered through out skin. ACCENT + INTENSITY has a new yorker accent, especially strong when he’s excited (which is common) or angry (which is not too common) TATTOO(S) he has ONE tattoo, a smiley face on the side of his right hand with “just smile” scripted beside it. SCAR(S) long scar running along his left shoulder from surgery from an in game injury, a few little scars on hands from sports. PIERCING(S) one of his ears is pierced, he did it as a dare and honestly didn’t hate it so he kept it

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

HOMETOWN newark, new york CURRENT RESIDENCE athens, greece LANGUAGE(S) english/italian SOCIAL CLASS middle BASIC EDUCATION high school COLLEGE EDUCATION currently a junior in college DEGREE(S) N/A PARENT #1 holly mosetti & enzo mosetti (adoptive parents) PARENT #2 barbara hawks (birth mother) PET(S) growing up had two dogs, golden retrievers RAP SHEET? clean as a whistle PRISON TIME? he would be dead, tbh

VICES + HABITS

SMOKES? ocassionally DRINKS? yes DRUGS? only weed, has taken ecstacy/molly before VIOLENT? not unless provoked OR sticking up for someone ADDICTION(S)? physical activity, perhaps? also enjoys reality television. SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? he can be at times. HABIT(S) excessively bouncing leg, pacing around, whistling (someone smack him if he does it too much), drumming hands on knees, rubbing the back of his neck, talking too loud. HOBBIES sports, sports, more sports, late night drives, playing guitar, enjoys listening to music for hours or watching sports. LIKES any sport but football and baseball are his favorites, the song brandy (you’re a fine girl), karaoke nights with friends, laughing until he cries, falling down youtube rabbit holes. DISLIKES overly-aggressive people, missing birthdays, wet socks, people who bite ice cream, overly seasoned food or UNDERLY seasoned food, quiet rooms. OBSESSION(S) once again SPORTS, ANYTHING SPORTS. and john lennon. COMPULSION(S) talking to fill space, he hates long pauses.

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

HOUSE hermes ZODIAC aries ELEMENT fire ANIMAL golden retriever

HIS POWERS AND PERSONALITY CAN ALL BE FOUND RIGHT HERE <3

EXTRACURRICULARS: capture the flag (vp), member of the choir, feminist alliance, lgbt alliance, theo tackles that (sports segment for radio), songwriting club

SPORTS CLUBS: captain of baseball, member of basketball, lacrosse and football.

WORKPLACE: somehow manages to pick up shifts at fireside records?? he is all over the place tbH?

HERE ARE SOME HEADCANNONS about the basic background info on my son, i might write his full bio.....i might not, WHO KNOWS, but i probs will. for now, here’s some need to know background:

theo was left in the foster care system at a very young age, his mother was an addict who gave him up in favor of continuing her life of addiction, but he was VERY QUICKLY adopted by the age of 2.

the family who adopted him already had an older son, who at the time was 6, and also eventually gave birth to a daughter who is 5 years younger than he was (she was a miracle baby).

he has diagnosed adhd, it was pretty intense when he was younger but after getting medication for it and diving into sports, it’s calmed down a bit...although it does still tend to flair up every now and then.

theo’s family was middle class, they lived in newark, new york (right outside new york city) in a humble home and were very tight knit. of course they had little family arguements here and there but, over all, he had a very wholesome childhood.

he found out he was adopted when he was pretty young, it wasn’t like his parents needed to tell him, he didn’t really look like his siblings or parents in the slightest but he was always assured that they loved him regardless and theo knew they meant that.

VERY MUCH involved in sports all throughout his life given his athletic ability, he loves sports (don’t get him started because he won’t stop). honestly, he just loves being involved and being a part of something. to quote high school musical “being a part of something special MAKES you special.”

outside of sports, however, he loves music...picking up guitar (mostly to impress a girl when he was younger) and he has a decent singing voice although he very much is more of a jock than a performer.

hermes claimed him when he was 12, he found out he was a demi-god when he was sixteen.

right before his sixteenth birthday, he was severely injured in a football game against another team. it was a rare day when he was off, as if something drained his energy, and he dislocated his shoulder. it was the ONLY TIME he used his powers to steal a larger amount of money since his parents would have to pay a lot for the surgery.

he is currently studying PSYCHOLOGY (cognitive) due to his adhd and wanting to learn more and help other people out there who might be struggling, although knowing how all over the place he is...he may switch at some point, who knows with him tbh??

SIMPLE WANTED CONNECTIONS FOR THIS GOLDEN RETRIEVER BOY:

best friends (2 or 3), brother/sister figures (2??), workout buddies (2 or 3), sports junkies such as himself, fwb (maybe 2 or 3, he is a pretty loyal little pup but he iS still a boy), exes (could end on good terms, bad terms, awkward terms who knows??), crushes (unrequited, mutual, secret??), enemies (1 or 2, theo doesn’t have many enemies but maybe someone isn’t about his good vibes?), party pals, coworkers, teammates, ANYTHING really.

i’ll probs make him a wanted connection page down the line when i get my stuff together hehe <3 feel free to dive into my DMSSSS!

#euintro #intro.

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brokenbuttonsmusic · 4 years ago

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Laura Cantrell: Nashville-born, New York-based, Acclaimed Country Singer-Songwriter & DJ (& Kitty Wells Fanatic)

This post is a near- transcript of the Broken Buttons: Buried Treasure Music podcast (episode 2, side B). Here you’ll find the narration from the segment featuring the pioneering rock band Fanny, along with links, videos, photos and references for the episode.

Listen to the full episode on Spotify, Anchor or Mixcloud.

Music blog Stereogum used to have a running feature called “Quit Your Day Job” where they interviewed indie musicians about their current or former jobs. There was one with Marty and Drew from the band Blitzen Trapper. The two discussed being torn about walking away from teaching as their third album, Wild Mountain Nation, was starting to blow up. There was another where the lead singer of War on Drugs detailed some of the disgusting things he had to clean up while working as an apartment property manager. Mostly dead rats and clogged toilet stuff, but he did walk into an apartment that had been converted into a porno set. I remembered this discontinued “musician day job” feature while reading up on my next featured artist and it got me thinking.

How many professional musicians do you think have a full time day job? How many juggle multiple side gigs and still manage to tour and put out records regularly? How many have really successful careers all while trying to make it as a musician?

I don’t actually know. I did some research and there aren’t any reliable stats that I could find. There is a lot of anecdotal discussion on the topic. The consensus seems to be that most musicians are not getting by with music as their only, or even their primary source of income. I don’t think anyone is surprised by that.

One Reddit user said less than 5% of musicians derive all or most of their income from music. He didn’t offer a source or anything, but he seemed very authoritative in his post. And then after a few more Google searches I lost interest and listened to more Laura Cantrell.

Laura Cantrell’s story is what got me pondering how indie musicians go about juggling making art with the necessity of, you know, making a living to survive. In 2003, after two critically acclaimed albums, including a tour opening for Elvis Costello all across the United States and Europe, Cantrell was at a similar crossroads. Laura had risen to the position of Vice President of Equity Research at Bank of America in New York. Yes, you heard me right. Laura Cantrell was working as a corporate executive and touring with Elvis Costello at the same time. She actively worked on the road during the day and then performed for thousands of people each night.

Before we get further into what led up to this point and what came after, let’s hear a song from Laura Cantrell’s debut album, Not the Tremblin’ Kind. Here’s the title track.

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That was Not the Tremblin’ Kind from Laura Cantrell’s first album back in the year 2000.

Laura grew up in Nashville. She played a little bit of piano and sang in the church choir, but did not get into performing music and playing out until her college years. As a teenager she worked at the Country Music Hall of Fame as a tour guide. This job, in addition to the influence of the diverse musical tastes of her parents, sparked an interest in traditional music, particularly classic country. She also became somewhat of an aficionado in this area.

This love and knowledge of the early days of country music would help differentiate Laura as she honed her sound and selected her songs while developing as a performer down the road. Before that, however, it would make her an excellent college radio DJ and later an even more excellent DJ at WFMU, one of the best and longest running free-form radio stations in the country. Out of the New Jersey/New York area, WFMU is awesome to this day, with a wide array of programming where DJs still get to play whatever they want.

Laura is my favorite kind of DJ, and the kind that has been dwindling in numbers since the rise of music downloads, which then gave way to streaming and endless algorithms. First off, she’s knows her stuff. She carefully curates each shows, and thoughtfully sequences each set within every episode. She packs in history, context and story to create something that transcends your typical weekend-afternoon-background-radio-soundtrack. I know this show is about under appreciated bands and artists, but Laura Cantrell’s contributions to radio deserve to be heard by more people. You can find her past WFMU shows, called The Radio Thrift Shop, archived on the WFMU website. You can hear her present day on her “States of Country” radio show on the Gimmie Country radio app, or on her SiriusXM George Harrison themed show “Dark House Radio,” on The Beatles station.

This concludes the part of the show where I babble my enthusiastic endorsement of Laura Cantrell’s past and present radio career.

Laura began playing music with others in college at Columbia University. Her jam pals included Andrew Webster, future member of Tsunami Bomb and Mac McCaughan, who would go on to form Superchunk and Portastatic + found Merge Records. The friends would call their band Bricks. A lo-fi, mostly apartment recording projects that played sporadic gigs over the years.

Here’s the Brick’s song, The Girl with the Carrot Skin.

Living in New York, Laura began playing guitar and writing her own songs. She also plucked some choice classic country finds and incorporated them into her own performance catalog. One day she met a guy named John who asked her to sing on a song that would appear on his band’s next major label release for Elektra.

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That’s The Guitar from They Might Be Giant’s 1992 album, Apollo 18. John Flansburgh asked Laura to sing on that recording. It was the first time Laura recorded in a professional studio. John Flansburgh became a fan of Laura’s music and released her first recorded material as part of his Hello CD of the Month Club, an EP called The Hello Recordings in 1996.

Let’s hear another Laura Cantrell song. This time one that she wrote with Amy Allison. From Laura Cantrell’s 2014 album, No Way There From Here, this is All the Girls are Complicated.

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That was Laura Cantrell with All the Girls Are Complicated from her last full length release, No Way There From Here. Actually, that was her last full album of new material, but Laura did release an album a few years back of her BBC recordings on John Peel’s radio show. That album is called At the BBC: On Air Performances and Recordings 2000-2005.

I mentioned earlier that Peel was a big fan. Again, here’s John Peel’s full quote about Laura’s first album, Not the Tremblin’ Kind: "[It is] my favourite record of the last ten years and possibly my life.” Having the endorsement of the legendary English disc jockey was enough to give Cantrell wider exposer throughout the UK. She developed a loyal fanbase through regular appearances on Peel’s show, as well as US and European tours, including the opening slot for Elvis Costello. Which brings us back to Laura’s fork in the road. Before her third album, Laura decided to walk away from the corporate gig. She was excited to focus on music full time, but a little worried about walking away from the security of a successful career she liked and position she was good at.

From a spotlight CNN Business did on Cantrell in 2004:

“For several months until she finally quit, Cantrell balanced her day job with a growing schedule of rehearsals, gigs, recordings and publicity. On the day she appeared on the Conan O'Brien show she was at her desk until lunchtime.”

“And while life as a professional musician is a dream come true, Cantrell still looks back with fondness on more than a decade on Wall Street.”

“‘I came into Wall Street with a very typical kind of stereotype that it was all going to be people just obsessed with money. What I found was that there were just loads of interesting people who were a lot like myself, just doing it as a job and who had lives that were full of other things.’

‘So I miss some of the contact with people I met. Ironically it was a very supportive environment for me as an artist.’”

Laura’s first two albums were released on the the indie label Diesel Only, which was founded by her husband, Jeremey Tepper. Her third album was released by Matador Records, also an indie label, but with an impressive roster that included Liz Phair, Modest Mouse, Pavement and Sleater-Kinney. Released in 2005, Humming By the Flowered Vine continues Cantrell’s classic country sound, but with some evolved production and arrangements. Laura’s mastery as a song selector gets more and more impressive. This album includes a cover of a rare, unreleased Lucinda Williams song form 1975 called, “Letters.”

In fact, Lucinda Williams herself was thoroughly impressed with Laura’s cover of “Letters.” She attributes the cover to bolstering her confidence to go back through her earlier material and look for her own buried treasures.

From Blurt Magazine:

“The inspiration for her journey through the past struck when she heard Laura Cantrell’s version of her song ‘Letters,’ which Williams wrote around 1975 and recorded on a demo but never officially released. Explains Williams, ‘She got a copy from a mutual friend and did a beautiful, really sweet version of it that made me think wow, she brought this early song back to life, maybe I should go back and review some of my old stuff. I’ve got all these tapes of old little songs, but I never thought they were good enough to do anything with.’”

You know you’re an ace at finding under appreciated gems when you surprise Lucinda Williams by helping her discover one of her own songs. Let’s hear Laura Cantrell’s version of Letters.

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That was Laura Cantrell with Letters from her 2005 release Humming by the Flowered Vine.

In 2008, Laura returned with an EP called, Trains and Boats and Planes with 9 songs about… trains, and boats and planes. It’s very good and it includes a fun cover of New Order’s Love Vigilantes.

Throughout this time, Laura continued her radio show. She also started a family and became co-owner and co-operator of Diesel Only Records.

In this clip from an interview with Face Culture, you can really hear Laura’s passion for country music and its roots. She talks about the importance of country’s influence on rock n’ roll, and how each artist is inspired by something great that came before.

And Laura continuously pays tribute to the greats that came before through her radio show and on her own records. In 2011, Laura released a tribute to Kitty Wells called “Kitty Wells Dresses: Songs of the Queen of Country Music.” The collection includes nine Kitty Wells covers and one original, the title track, Kitty Wells Dresses.

From the Washington Post:

Here’s Laura talking about the inspiration for the album.

“Kitty wore very typical stage clothes for women who performed at barn dances and in early country music shows,” says Cantrell, a Nashville-born, New York-based country singer and host of an old-time music show on the legendary radio station WFMU.

“They were these frilly gingham dresses, non-threatening and cutesy. It became this uniform that all the women of the era wore, and I always thought it was a great metaphor for how you can underestimate the strength of the person or the value of the artist underneath.”

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That was the song Kitty Wells Dresses from Laura Cantrell’s tribute album of the same name, released in 2011. Wells was the oldest living member of the Country Music Hall of Fame upon its release. She was also the first woman inducted into the hall. Cantrell met and talked to Kitty about her album. She said that Kitty asked which songs were selected and as Laura began calling them out, Kitty would sing each one.

I’ve mentioned all of Laura’s past and present DJ efforts, all of which I’ll link to on my website, brokenbuttons.com. Laura also continues to release music. She had planned a host of special activities for the 20th anniversary of Not the Tremblin’ Kind, which had to be put on hold due to all things 2020.

You can contribute to Laura’s IndigGoGo campaign to help fund her new digital singles collection that she’s already started releasing. The plan is to release six singles with an A and a B side, all working with different musicians and producers. I’d recommend the $50 Kitty Wells Dresses Pack, which gets you access to the digital singles as their released, a signed CD copy of both the singles collection and the Kitty Wells Dresses album, as well as a copy of Laura's essay on Kitty and Patsy Cline from the book "Rock and Roll Cage Match: Music's Greatest Rivalries"

Laura Cantrell is the rare performer whose work is deeply rooted in its original source material while still feeling fresh and exciting. Laura’s radio shows can be described the same way. A buried treasure unearthing buried treasure and taking the old and classic and making it new and lasting and so much sweeter. Laura Cantrell.

References and other stuff to check out:

Laura’s Indiegogo campaign for her digital singles series

The Radio Thrift Shop - Laura’s prior radio show. You can stream past episodes and check out her playlists

Gimmie Country, where Laura hosts her current show States of Country. New episodes air 3:00 Monday EST. Laura chats during the show with listeners in the app.

Darkhorse Radio on Sirius XM. Laura’s other show dedicated to George Harrison. New episodes air Thursday at 3:00.

John Peel wiki entry about Laura

TMBG wiki entry about Laura

A Wall Street journal feature on Laura

An NPR feature on Laura

A CNN Business Week feature on Laura

Stereogum archive of the Quit Your Day Job feature

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 5 years ago

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Complexities Unknowable- Chapter 7 (Finale!)

Ao3, 1 2 3 4 5 6. MasterPost

Relationships: Deintruality, background Analogince

Warnings: Cursing, Remus-typical language and jokes, Minor self-deprication/insecurity, the ol’ ‘thinks-it’s-unrequited-and-is-oblivious-to-obvious-flirting’ song and dance, all sympathetic sides, feelings of being left out, also I accidentally projected too hard and now Patton has adhd oops.

Word Count: 4,000 (approximately)

Patton felt better than he could ever remember feeling. Sleep came easy as it hadn’t for him in years. It was amazing how far a little bit of understanding went.

When all your closest friends are together, you get lonely. Patton wouldn’t say that he was jealous, but everything was different now. When he used to spend time with the others, it was four pals spending quality time together! Now when they did, it was a date, except oops! Patton’s here too! How awkward!

He knew that was unfair. They didn’t really think of him that way, of course not. Hence why he didn’t bring it up.

It wasn’t like that with Remus and Deceit. Even though they were dating, Patton never felt left behind. Their humor was dark and snarky but accessible, not laden with inside jokes that he’d missed out on or specific clues that he didn’t pick up.

The inclusiveness they treated him with was probably borne from being excluded for so long, though he didn’t like to think about that. The fact was, the three were friends now, the past was past, and Patton was drinking in their companionship like fine wine (or, to be more accurate to himself, a grape juice box).

It did not take him long to figure out why he was so fond of their company. You can only spend so much time with Deceit prattling about the dangers of repression before you start to unearth all of those deeply buried feelings.

He’d fallen for the Dark Sides. Whoops.

Could you really blame him? Deceit, suave and clever and funny, yet so gentle when he wanted to be; Remus, bold and brash and energetic, but still with such a deep empathy hidden in him! It was no wonder that the two were already together- anyone who spent as much time with them as they spent with each other would be head-over-heels as well! (Patton was speaking from experience on that one).

Initial surprise regarding the feelings had soon faded to something almost comfortable. He was happy to have them as his friends alone, so what was a little crush? No big deal!

...Was what he had thought ten minutes ago, when there wasn’t an affectionate Remus wrapped around him, chattering off various compliments.

“I could hold you forever, Patty. You are just the softest, like a water balloon full of blood and organs! But still so ripped, I mean, damn!”

“Language,” Patton chided meekly, trying very hard to not dissolve into the ether.

“Awww, you can’t make an exception for me? Just this once? I’ll make it worth your while~,” the last part was a hushed sing-song right near Morality’s ear. He felt his face redden, but forced himself away to refocus on… whatever he had been doing.

“Nope, no exceptions,” he chirped, going back to- right! Cleaning!

“You aren’t tempted at all? You are so responsible- and that’s really one of the sexiest qualities there is.”

It was just Remus’ nature to talk to people like that, Patton told himself firmly. The Creative side was just expressing his friendly affection in a way that made sense to him. It came alongside being close to someone so unused to ‘typical’ friendship dynamics, after all. Patton reminded himself of this again and again, denying himself the desperate urge that welled up and told him to respond in kind. He would not purposefully misinterpret Remus’ actions for his own gain, he was better than that!

“Thank you, Rem,” just nice, platonic gratitude for nice, platonic compliments.

Eventually, finally, mercifully, The Duke had seemed to get bored. He disentangled himself from Patton (appearing rather crestfallen, though the moral trait wasn’t sure why), and wandered off.

But that, whether for good or for bad, was hardly the end of that.

Deceit’s room was magnificently cozy. It was armchairs that swallowed up whomever sat in them, warm lamps casting down on all surfaces, and jazzy music playing distantly in the background. In other words, the perfect place for a good cup of tea and some sandwiches, not to mention pleasant conversation.

Deceit lounged back in his oversized chair, sending Patton an inscrutable look across their teacups. The side smiled, hoping that was the appropriate response.

“So,” he drawled, switching the track of their conversation abruptly, “You’re something of a seamster, aren’t you?”

Patton stared blankly for a moment before the term clicked.

“Oh, you mean a seamstress?”

“Sorry, I thought you’d prefer the masculine, but that really was presumptuous of me,” Deceit amended in apology.

“I didn’t know that there was a word for it other than seamstress. Hey, isn’t it kinda weird how some jobs are like that, when you think about it? Like how there’s actors and actresses! Why wouldn’t ‘actor’ be all encompassing, ya know?”

Deceit made a vague noise of disinterest and waved his hand, as though manually cutting off the tangent in conversation.

“Yes, gender is a distasteful societal construct and an overall prison to our consciences, we both agree- but regardless, you sew. Make clothing and things like our quilt. Isn’t that right?”

“Right- yes.”

“Do you make all of your own clothes, then?”

“Hmm, sometimes I do- I mostly make stuff for the others. It’s easier to conjure simple stuff for myself, but making them is a lot of fun!” Morality gestured enthusiastically to the pastel pink sweater that he wore, fluffy and intricately patterned.

Deceit’s eyes glinted in a strange, intimidating, and also incredibly hot way. Patton almost forced the attraction out of his mind, before realizing that that kind of repression would definitely be noticed in this part of the Mindscape.

“I would have to say you have quite the talent, in that case,” the dishonest trait set down his cup and craned his body over the small table between them, heterochromatic gaze alight with… something. Patton cleared his throat.

“W-Why’s that?”

“You look positively hideous in that, my Dear,” he purred in obvious lies, gloved hands now sitting in the middle of the table and creeping forward by the inch.

“Aw, thanks,” Patton croaked, fighting the urge to lean forward in turn.

Something strangely disappointed flashed in Deceit’s eyes, but he quickly recovered. He reached out to run a hand along Patton’s sleeve, the touch lingering against his arm.

“My my, that’s just like a cloud. How did you manage that, Darling?”

Morality shivered as Deceit continued to toy with the fabric of his sweater.

“I-It’s probably because it’s made with love! Since that’s what I am, kinda,” he stammered, desperately trying to keep up the cheery tone.

“I’m inclined to agree. There’s beauty in all you touch, Sunshine.”

Oh, the pet names. Patton really couldn’t take it; he jerked away and pressed his back against the chair, before he had the chance to do something stupid. Honestly, it was sad how hard this was for him- Deceit was just trying to be a good friend! It wasn’t his fault that he showed it with flirts!

“You’re too sweet,” with distance reestablished, Morality found it much easier to formulate words, “I really appreciate you, Dee.”

Deceit blinked, still hovering over the table. He cleared his throat and snapped back into his seat, suddenly looking the part of the cold and distant Dark Side that Patton had feared just months prior. Guarded, callous, stoic. It was almost frightening, how quickly he changed.

“Yes, I know you do. Let’s change topics, shall we?”

Patton, feeling quite a bit of whiplash, nodded hesitantly. Their conversation continued to flow normally, for the most part, but he couldn’t help feeling that he’d messed up somewhere. There was something heavy over them, but Patton hadn’t the slightest idea what it was.

For a brief, dizzying moment, he wondered if they were moving backwards. If he’d somehow crossed a line when he was trying so hard not to, and now they were two steps back again. Just the thought of it made him too sick to finish his tea.

Patton didn’t have to be worried for long about that particular mishap, thankfully, as a very momentous occasion had swallowed up the fear. Remus and Deceit were going to be joining in their first ever movie night as part of the family!

There’d been plenty of TV marathons with just them and Pat already, but now they’d all come together! As part of the group!! Contributing to the voting and the arguing and the joking and the experience of it all!!! Needless to say, Patton was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

He plopped down onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn, passing a much larger container of snacks to the amorphous blob of limbs and sass that had once been his three best friends, cuddled together far across from him. Now, all they needed were the Dark- sorry, former Dark Sides.

He wasn’t waiting for long before Deceit and Remus appeared in the living room (Remus, thank the lord, wearing actual pajamas). Patton couldn’t contain the happy little chirp that escaped him, scrunching himself to one side of the sectional so that they’d have plenty of room to make themselves at home.

Rather than huddling together in the crook of the curved sofa, however, Deceit immediately gestured for Patton to scooch over, and Remus sat on his other side. Morality was happy (if a bit surprised) to comply with this new seating arrangement, flashing them bright smiles. In light of recent events, being so close with both of them was a little dizzying, but it wasn’t too hard to bear. For now.

The conversation on which movie to watch that night was more agreeable than usual, which was nice; they got right to the marathon with little hassle. Patton sighed as the opening credits to Tangled played. At that moment, his life couldn’t get any more wonderful. Surrounded by the people he cared about, finally all together, it was perfect.

And then, a mere ten minutes in, Remus leaned his chin on Patton’s shoulder and pressed into his side.

“Mother Gothel is such a Milf.”

Patton would usually have been put off by the sexual comment, but at that moment Deceit had also seemed to decide that he’d make a good headrest. Which was fine, this was fine. Some mild friendly cuddling- nothing he couldn't handle!

Another twenty minutes later and Remus twisted an arm around his waist. Deceit held Patton’s hand between a couple of his own. By this point, they were beginning to look a lot like the cuddle pile wrapped up together on the other side of the couch. He was still alive, though!

Neither of the sides beside him moved an inch until the film ended, only begrudgingly letting go when Morality had to get up for a snack refill. Even then, they latched back onto him as soon as he returned. Thus began the second movie, and the beginning of Patton's slow and snuggly death.

Every few minutes, it would be something else: Deceit ran a hand or two through his hair, Remus hooked his leg around Patton’s, Deceit nuzzled against his neck, Remus laughed into his shoulder, et cetera et cetera et cetera.

Three movies in and he was barely keeping up with the conversation. His head was spinning and he was sure he’d never been so warm, but more than that he felt protected. Even adored. He wasn't often on the receiving end of affection, and the longing brought with it ached, but he never wanted it to end.

Then Virgil yawned (oh yeah, the other three were still there), exiting from the ending credits of All Dogs Go To Heaven and clicking back to the main screen.

“Bed time,” he grumbled, a tone so intimate and low and clearly meant for his boyfriends that Patton almost felt bad for overhearing it.

“It is getting quite late,” Logan agreed, standing to stretch. Roman followed suit and dragged a sleepy Anxiety up with him.

Virgil tossed the remote in Patton's general direction and let Roman haul him up in his arms (Deceit caught it with an unoccupied arm, given that the moral side’s brain was currently jelly). The three bid their goodnights and were gone with a few shimmers of color and a whoosh.

“I guess we should head up, too,” Patton murmured, working very hard to disguise his reluctance. To his surprise, the traits sandwiching him only sank further into his sides.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right, it’s so very late,” Deceit rumbled, his face partially hidden in the crook of Patton’s neck.

“Yeah, I’m exhausted. I can’t move,” Remus added, his voice ticking up in a noticeably mischievous way.

“I can’t either. We should stay, just like this.”

Patton's heart warmed, looking between their adorably sleepy faces. He couldn’t lie, the offer was tempting, but in such a situation his brain came back to him. Despite the continued proximity of his crushes, this was something he could handle!

“Aww, don’t you worry about it, I’ve got ya,” and, making very sure that his grip was secure, Patton stood up with Deceit and Remus cradled in either arm. He hardly staggered under the weight of the sides, familiar with such heavy lifting.

Remus and Deceit went from sleepiness to pure shock in a matter of milliseconds. Deceit instinctively clung to Patton with all of his limbs, meanwhile Remus gave a startled laugh. Their faces were a matching pink; oh, he could have made them uncomfortable!

“Is this okay? I promise I won't drop you.”

Remus nodded frantically; Deceit squawked in an affirming sort of way.

Relief washed over Patton and, satisfied with the response, he sank out in a circle of cyan. For a moment, he feared that the nausea that The Subconscious usually brought him would unsteady him, but he was left pleasantly surprised when he felt none. In fact, it felt just like rising up anywhere else. Just as easy as breathing. Hm.

He didn’t dwell on it too long, ascending The Subconscious’ staircase and bringing his cargo to the first bedroom he saw (Deceit’s). He nudged the door open with his shoe, carrying them right to the bed and dropping them down gently. Remus fell onto his back with a happy hum; Deceit stayed upright and stared at Patton with wide eyes. He huffed a laugh and nudged The Snake's shoulders, and Deceit let himself fall beside his boyfriend, dazed.

This was routine for Patton: grabbing the covers and blanketing his friends, as he’d done for probably every other side at one point or another (even Logan, though he would deny it furiously). Once Remus and Deceit were sufficiently tucked in, he stood up and dimmed the lights to near darkness.

“Alright, you two have a good night's sleep.”

There was a noise of approval from the pair. Patton gave them one last smile before disappearing back to his own room. To scream into his pillow and think about how gay he was.

Which meant that he didn't get the opportunity to hear the interaction that followed between Dee and Ree.

“Well, that didn’t backfire at all.”

“I want him to snap my spine in half like a glow stick. He could break every bone in my body and I would thank him,” Remus replied dreamily. Deceit hummed in agreement.

“Perhaps we should try a more… direct approach, as this doesn’t seem to be working in our favor.”

“I dunno about you, but I’m feeling pretty fuckin’ favored right now.”

“I was suggesting that we be more-” he very nearly gagged, “Straightforward.”

“More like gay-forward, actually,” Remus corrected, “But I’m with you! You know I love being direct.”

“Now when I say direct, I don’t mean blunt.”

“I don’t understand the difference.”

“I know you don’t. Let me do the talking.”

“Fine by me! Whatever works to get him to pick me up and throw me!”

Deceit rolled his eyes, settling his arms around Remus.

“Yes, yes- but I’m actually wide awake right now, and I’d love it if you keep being loud all night, Dearest.”

“Oh, right,” Remus lowered his voice, curling himself around the lying side in turn. Together, their breathing slowed. As they drifted to sleep, the feeling of Patton's arms around them still ghosted their skin.

Patton was cleaning furiously. He’d already reorganized the entirety of his room- twice, for that matter- and now he’d moved to the Common area. It hadn’t been so much as a week since his last tidying session, and the Mindpalace was pretty much spotless, but that was irrelevant. It was as good a distraction as any.

Maybe he was avoiding the trifecta of trifling traits- aka his best friends- because he knew that they’d ask about why he was being so weird lately. Maybe he was avoiding Deceit and Remus, the reason that he’d been weird lately. Maybe he was just avoiding his thoughts about them, because seeing them all cozied up and sleepy and adorable a couple nights ago really hadn’t helped settle his growing infatuation with them. Most likely, he was avoiding all three.

But he had failed to take into account that The Common Area was not the best place for avoiding stuff. Given that it was. A Public Space.

“Patton,” began the voice of Deceit behind him, in a tone deadly serious.

He spun around to see a very embarrassed Dee and an immensely giddy Remus. Well, Shhhhh-ucks. Shucks.

“Hey!” Patton tossed the sponge in his hand back into the sink and pretended that he wasn’t freaking out at that exact moment.

Deceit hardly registered the greeting, continuing:

“We need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

The Snake opened his mouth, and promptly closed it. His eyes had widened concerningly, and he cast his gaze downwards.

“We-” he cut off again. Patton’s worry was mounting.

“DeeDee?” Remus prompted, elbowing his partner’s side, “I thought you were doing the talking?”

“I-I can do this, I’m not tapping out,” his voice was frenzied, hiding himself behind The Duke in a rare display of fear.

“Guys? Is something wrong?” Patton approached them, all of his nervousness about his feelings forgotten in the face of this distress, “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

Remus gave him a warm smile, not hesitating for a breath.

“We came to tell you you’re hot and we wanna date you! But, you know how bad Dee is with words! Anyway, whaddya say?”

Deceit, for his part, nodded in deep resignation. And Patton’s head reeled.

He could hear, audibly hear his heart thumping against his ribs. It was probably as simple as a confession could get, but regardless he found himself frantically replaying the words over and over and over again. He’d never imagined- not even for a second- even the thought of it-

Mentally, he took a step back. Roman, Logan, and Virgil were an item. Remus and Deceit were an item. And Patton was a third party, paternal and caring and watching out for all of them and their misadventures, though he knew he’d never be entirely part of it. But maybe, now he could be. After everything, they wanted not to just be with him, but to be with him.

It didn’t process.

“I- You- What- Me?”

Because there is good in this world, Remus (correctly) interpreted his flustered stammering as surprise and not distaste. The smile that he almost always wore widened and he took a step forward, dragging the mildly less panicked Deceit along with him.

“You,” he confirmed, shimmying excitedly in place, “Definitely you. And us.”

“I second that not-at-all vague sentiment. We’ve grown unfortunately fond of you,” Deceit uncoiled himself from Remus enough to be seen clearly.

Patton saw it. He saw, in full light and understanding, the subtext in their previous interactions. And now that he did, he had no idea how he’d missed it. A testament to the power of his insecurity, probably. But that didn’t matter, because they liked him back.

Patton failed to words. But, they were very near, and he was very happy, and in the light of new context, he figured that they wouldn’t mind the response he opted for instead.

He hopped forward with a delighted squeal, scooping the traits up in his arms. Remus started cackling and immediately returned the hug with just as much fervor. Deceit wasn’t far behind for once, allowing his face to split with a smile equal parts shock, relief, and glee.

“Oh, I love you two so much!” Patton laughed out, burying his face in Remus’ hair.

“I love you back!” Remus said in kind.

Deceit attempted a dramatic groan, but he failed to tamp down his grin.

“It could be said that I feel something love-adjacent for the both of you. Perhaps.”

Patton’s mind was swimming in joy, so much so that it barely registered when Remus tilted his head back only to lean forward, and oh wow, were they kissing. Patton’s vision was all bright blurs of color, and he melted. The creative trait pushed up against him, rough in much the same way as an overly excited large dog. Patton hardly had time to reciprocate the kiss before Remus broke off completely from the hug, unflustered and unaffected by what he’d done, save for a light blush.

“Now you guys!”

Oh, he was still hugging Deceit.

“Only if it’s okay?” he’d barely gotten the apprehensive words out of his mouth when it was suddenly occupied, and the world went back to hazey vibrance. Deceit was almost skittish, a barely-there press against his lips like he expected Patton to shove him away. He didn’t, by the way. Rather, he slid a hand up to rest between the side’s shoulder blades, bringing him nearer.

After a moment, they pulled back slowly, not letting go of each other.

“That was hot, ngl,” Remus chimed from his perch on the counter.

Patton was overcome with a fit of giggling, energy building in him. He ended his and Deceit’s very drawn-out embrace to satisfy the necessity of full body wiggle. He was in Silly Mode, there was no avoiding this until it had been exorcised via The Joyful Movement™. Patton flapped his hands at his sides and shook his hair out, laughing all the while. Today could not possibly get better!

But he remembered his audience of two. He looked up, hair fluffed up and face flushed with fading excitement and a tinge of self-consciousness.

“Sorry, I got over-excited...”

“That,” Deceit announced solemnly, “Was astoundingly adorable.”

“I’ve died a gruesome death,” Remus rolled off the counter and onto the ground with a crash (and some bone crunches thrown in, probably for fun), “My heart overloaded, it has burst. There’s blood everywhere, it’s in my eyes, I’m now also blind.”

Patton’s relief escaped in another bout of laughter, and something lifted in him. A weight that had been there for so long that he hadn’t even remembered it was there, nor how it felt to be without it. But now that it had left, he didn’t know how he had been living with it for so long. There was airiness in his chest, a clarity in his mind, a general sense of contentment rushing over him. This wasn’t a face he put on for others benefit, it wasn’t a fleeting enjoyment of one thing or another- what it was was a deep, thrumming joy that overcame him.

He was happy.

Naturally, Patton could not finish cleaning due to. Circumstances. Those circumstances being, he was finally letting himself indulge in some quality time with his new boyfriends (an identifier he very much liked the sound of).

The trio were half-laying on the Common room’s couch, a tangle of various limbs. Remus leaned against a pile of pillows, and Patton rested his head on his chest. Draped across the both of them was Deceit, fastening all of his arms around them in a manner simultaneously protective and needy. Oh, and also very, very cute.

“This was totally what I was planning from the beginning,” his voice reverberated through Patton’s chest, “God, I am so great at plotting.”

Remus clicked his tongue agreeably, pressing a kiss to the top of Morality’s head.

“Yeah, I was pretty sure we were gonna end up killing you, Pumpkin. This wasn’t even in the ballpark of outcomes.”

Patton hummed in thought, cuddling himself closer to his partners.

“I dunno. I’d say your plan turned out pretty well.”

@deceits-left-glove

@princemesscharming

@shrimp-crockpot

43 notes · View notes

greekletters · 5 years ago

Text

I should choose better titles.

Hey everyone! Recently, I found out that my pal @dedicatedseeker has a birthday coming up. So I asked if there was a prompt or anything I could write a fic for. And they sent me this pretty awesome fic idea, (all credit for ideas and discovery should go to @tdactyl and @maburito via this post https://maburito.tumblr.com/post/182471484722/tdactyl-alright-so-like-hear-me-out-a-rwby) and I decided to do my best and give it a go!

And since I'm very Tumblr challenged, I will post the first chapter below and end it with a link to continue reading on AO3.

Thanks for reading, as always! : )

It’s All Downhill

Chapter One

“Yeah Ruby, they’re already here. Checked in like less than an hour ago. I made sure they got the nicest room available. For the whole weekend, yeah.”

The gentleman behind the check in counter of the resort hasn’t stopped talking on his phone on what seems to be a personal call the entire time you’ve been standing at the counter with Winter.

“I can’t believe this place just allows its employees to take personal calls in a customer facing area such as this. Seems.. unprofessional.” You knew it would only be a matter of time before Winter decided to voice her concerns to the host behind the desk in front of you.

“Sorry ma’am, that’s our resort manager, Mr. Arc. I believe he’s on a call regarding a guest issue. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Being here is already enough of an inconvenience for me, what’s one more thing.” Winter rolls her eyes so hard you’re surprised they didn’t fall out and roll away.

“It’s three days of mandatory leave. It’s basically a vacation. Just take it as a time for you to relax, and decompress.” You try to be as supportive as possible, even though you also hadn’t wanted to leave work and take a three day weekend.

“If it weren’t mandatory and direct from General Ironwood, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Yes. You made that incredibly clear the entire ride here.” You grab your room key from the host and begin to pull your luggage behind you, leaving Winter a few paces to catch up.

You don’t know why you even bothered to come on this trip. You knew Winter was just going to complain about not being at work the entire time. But then would complain when you tried to do work on your computer. This is how any vacation the two of you had taken within the last ten years had gone. Someone was always working. And someone always didn’t want to be there. And sometimes, it was both.

So the entire journey from the resort front desk to your regal cabin, that’s what happened. Winter complained about a vacation. You were over it already and you hadn’t even made it through the first twelve hours yet.

“This is going to be a long three days.” You mumble to yourself as you scan your keycard against the reader, flinging the door open in front of you.

The site that greets you on the other side of the door isn’t at all what you had expected. What you had expected was a gorgeous glass front cabin, facing the mountain overlook. What did you get?

Two people, that weren’t you or Winter, already looking comfortable in the shared living area of the cabin. Two people that shouldn’t be there.

“Really? They told us this cabin was ready and it’s not even cleaned yet? This place is run by idiots.” Winter slams her bags down, clearly not pleased.

“Wow.” One of the women with shorter black hair says as she stands up and wanders back into what you guess would be the kitchen.

“Hey guys, uh. No offense. But who are you exactly?” The taller blonde woman asks, standing up from her seat.

“Um, we are the people that have rented this room for the weekend. Maybe we are the ones who should be asking you that same question.” Folding your arms across your chest, trying your best to remain assertive.

“Well, if we also hadn’t rented this same room, how would we have gotten keys and gotten into this same room?” The other woman had returned, with a cup filled with some kind of hot drink. “They probably double booked it.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Winter lets out the most exaggerated groan as she pulls her phone from her pocket and begins dialing.

After about ten minutes, ten fully silent and awkward minutes, the gentleman from the front desk knocks on the door of the cabin. You let him in, mostly so he can declare the room yours and allow these other people to leave gracefully.

“So, I double and triple checked the system. There seems to have been an error and we double booked the room. Unfortunately, we don’t have any other vacancies anywhere in the resort. Not a single room is available.”

The four of you look between each other, seeing which group would be the first to give. No one budges.

“The resort cannot demand either booking be the one to leave, so it’s something I will leave you to settle amongst yourselves.” And with the swiftness of an olympic sprinter, he disappears.

“Well that’s just great. This is positively ridiculous.” Clearly Winter’s mood hadn’t improved at all.

“Positively ridiculous, ha.” The black haired girl leans back against the wall.

“How exactly are we supposed to just decide who gets to stay and who has to go? This isn’t any of our error and it’s unfair that anyone be punished and sent away.”

“Agreed.” You look up, surprised by the dark haired girl’s support.

“I have an idea. Why don’t we just bet on it?” The blonde opens it up for discussion.

“What are the stakes?” Shocked that Winter would even consider leaving something like this up to chance, you stare at her wide eyed.

The blonde takes a few moments to deliberate with herself, moving her head from side to side like she’s weighing decisions in her head.

“A good old fashioned arm wrestle sounds fair to me. You in?” She gestures to both you and Winter.

“I will be doing no such thing.” Disgusted, you are honestly disgusted. What a brutish suggestion.

“Typical, Yang. And I will not be participating, as usual.”

“Winter?” You can’t help but notice her silence, and it unnerves you.

“I’m in.”

“Heck yeah.” The blonde, Yang, begins to roll up the sleeves of her jacket and prepare for battle.

“You can’t be serious, Winter.”

You catch the faint scent of lavender as the black haired girl crosses in front of you and takes a seat in one of the chairs facing opposite the couch.

“She looks pretty serious to me.” She says as she raises one eyebrow before taking another sip from her cup.

“What are the terms?” Winter asks as she removes her jacket and takes her place across from Yang.

“Well I’m guessing that if you win, Blake and I pack up and go home.”

“Fair enough.”

“And if I win, we share.”

“What?” Winter’s voice is curt.

“Excuse me?” You can’t believe this stranger has the audacity to suggest you share living space with them for an entire weekend.

“If I win, the two of you share the cabin with Blake and I for the weekend. It has five rooms and plenty of space for all of us. No reason someone has to leave.”

Winter squints her eyes as she stares Yang down. It’s the look she has when she’s assessing all the odds. It would usually strike fear in her opponent, but this blonde seems completely unphased.

“Fine. I only have one other condition.”

“And what is that?”

“We battle left handed. I stand no chance against an Atlesian prosthetic arm.” She gestures towards Yang’s right arm.

“Totally understandable, yet still inconsequential. Seeing as how I’ll be winning regardless.” Yang sits down, places her elbow to the table, holding her hand up for Winter to take.

Before she takes her place at the table, you walk over next to Winter and quietly express your discontent.

“You better not lose, because I don’t want to spend my weekend with two complete strangers, one of which appears to be some kind of arm wrestling barbarian. And if you do lose, don’t forget that this was your idea.”

“Oh Weiss, have a little faith.”

As it turns out, your lack of faith was accurately placed. Because Yang wiped the table with Winter. The “battle,” if it could even be called such, lasted less than a minute.

“Why don’t you guys take the rooms on the right side of the cabin and Blake and I will choose from the ones on the left? And then, if you ladies wanted, we can meet back here and have dinner? We should probably at least try to get to know each other a little since we will be spending the weekend here.”

“Sounds fine to me. But I recommend room service. I have no intention of cooking on holiday.” You say as you begin to pull your bag towards one of the open doors closest to you.

“Ah, the request of someone that can’t cook.” Blake says as she disappears down the hallway opposite from you. “I’m cool with that, see you all in an hour.”

Much to your surprise, dinner actually turned out rather pleasant. It was awkward at first, but Yang seems like one of those people that would talk to a rock and have a good conversation. And Blake seemed like the chill and calm balance to Yang’s over the top attitude. She was smart, incredibly well spoken. And very witty. She even managed to make you laugh a few times. Winter seemed to enjoy conversing with the other girls, which was a nice surprise considering she had been a stick in the mud up until then.

When Yang suggests that you all “take the party outside” and make s’mores on the patio bonfire, you are shocked when Winter jumps at the chance to help her set it up.

“Guess that leaves you and I to make the hot chocolate, huh?” Blake asks, motioning for you to follow her back into the kitchen.

You quietly follow Blake into the kitchen, where she has already started to make preparations. Trying to be of at least some help, you start searching the cabinets for mugs to use. Finally finding them on the highest shelf. Try as you might, even on tiptoes, you can’t reach them.

“I hate to ask, but do you think you could give me a hand?”

“Did Yang teach you that joke?” Blake laughs to herself as she steps beside you and reaches up to grab four mugs from the cabinet. When she stretches, you can��t help but notice the scar on her left side, as her shirt rides up.

And of course she catches you looking. God forbid you be smooth at anything.

“Sorry.” You look away. Not sure if you’re embarrassed for seeing her scar, or just because you got caught looking.

“No, it’s fine. It’s not exactly a beauty mark.” She laughs nervously. After you fail to fill the silence, she continues. “Should I wait for you to ask? Or would you just like me to tell you about how I got it now?”

“Got what?” You say, dumbfounded look surely spread across your face.

“The scar I just totally caught you staring at.”

“Oh, not if it’s personal. I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” You shake your head.

“It’s fine.” She waves her hand in dismissal. “It’s not that big of a deal anyways. When Yang and I were younger, we were in an accident. On the way to school, something happened with the bus. And it was horrible, some people died. Yang lost her arm, and I got some metal from the bus..” She pokes at her side. “Ya know.”

“That’s terrible.” Your mouth hangs open in shock.

“It wasn’t great. But Yang got the worst of it. I was very lucky. But the two of us have been inseparable ever since.” She shrugs her shoulders and you feel something sink down in your stomach. “Can you help me carry two of the cups? I only got two hands so I can’t get all four of them.”

“Oh of course, sorry.” Quickly grabbing the remaining mugs, you follow Blake back outside.

“Look who’s back! We were beginning to think the two of you ran off into the woods on us.”

“Think it’s fairly safe to say that Weiss and I probably wouldn’t make it long in the woods.”

“Weiss can barely make it grocery shopping by herself, much less in the wilderness.” Winter laughs as Yang hands her a marshmallow on a stick.

“I only want-“

“Just the marshmallow. I know Blakey. Chill.”

Yang roasts a single marshmallow and points it towards Blake once it’s finished cooking.

“You know me so well.” Blake gives a wide smile to Yang as she removes the lone marshmallow from the stick and eats it.

“I should. We’ve basically been together forever at this point.” Yang says as she goes about her s’more making duties.

“What do you all have planned for tomorrow?”

“Well, Blake wants to go skiing but I have always wanted to go snowboarding.”

“I love to snowboard.” Winter says, and you look at her suspiciously.

“You do? Since when?”

“For a while now, you just never pay attention.”

“What about you, Weiss? Skiing or snowboarding?” Blake asks as she eats another marshmallow.

“Skiing. I’ve always preferred skiing. It has a certain elegance to it that snowboarding does not.”

“You and I should go then.” Blake says.

“What?” Maybe you misheard her.

“Well, it seems like Yang and Winter want to snowboard while you and I would like to ski, so maybe we should split up. If that’s cool with you guys?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, if you guys are up for it?” You highly doubt Winter would agree to this.

“Seems like the most efficient use of our time here, I’m in.”

You cave and agree to spend the following day skiing with Blake. You aren’t sure what is going on with Winter. The world must be tilting on some unknown axis or something.

Later that night, while you and Winter prepared for bed, you take advantage of the seclusion and try to get some answers.

“What is going on with you? This morning it was like pulling teeth to get you to leave Vale, and now you are agreeing to spend tomorrow with a near complete stranger.”

“There is absolutely nothing going on with me. I was given a direct order from my commanding officer to spend the weekend relaxing, and I am doing just that. And quite frankly, I’m the one that should be asking you. It’s obvious that you are interested in Blake.”

“I am not! And even if I were, she’s clearly in a committed relationship with Yang. They’ve ‘been together forever.’ And that is not something I’m looking to intervene in during a weekend vacation. Honestly, if I had anything to say about it, you’re being way too friendly with Yang.”

“I am doing nothing of the sort. See you in the morning, Weiss. Sleep well.”

“Whatever. Goodnight, Winter.”

As much as you hated to admit it, after hours of lying awake in bed, Winter may have been right. You had only known her for a few hours. But this complete stranger, this Blake whoever, was running circles through your mind and getting stuck in your thoughts. And the more you thought about her, the more disheartened you got. She seemed so amazing. So smart, so witty, so outstanding. Just when you thought you may have found someone of interest. It’s someone that already has a someone.

------------------------------------

Here is the link to the rest of the story, if anyone wants to check out the rest: https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/25129900/chapters/60886429

#rwby monochrome #rwby checkmate #rwby fanfiction #blake belladonna #rwby elderburn #weiss schnee #winter schnee #yang xiao long

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cecilspeaks · 5 years ago

Text

166 - Delta

The stars tell us our future. They’re rarely correct, but yet there they are, blathering on night after night. Welcome to Night Vale.

At the foot of a sandy hill, a woman explains to her son what a flower is. She’s pointing at an orange starburst atop a squat bulbous cactus. She says: “Flowers are beautiful, aren’t they?” I cannot hear what her son says. She answers: “Because bees like beautiful things and flowers want the bees to take their pollen, that little bit of yellow powder, right down there inside, and give it to other plants, so they can grow up and be beautiful too.” There’s a long pause. Then she says: “Nature wants to make more and more beauty all the time. That’s all it wants to do. If it is not beautiful, it cannot live.” She’s upset at her son’s next question. “Humans wish to make beauty too, but not for nature,” she snaps. “They want computers and airplanes and factories, oh Benny, don’t touch.” She sighs. Then she says: “The cactus hurt you, didn’t it? The cactus knows you’re human and it does not want you to watch it, and now it has let you know that, you won’t touch it again, will you? No Benny, you won’t.”

Underneath the scant shade of a dilapidated wing of an MD-90 aircraft, a middle aged man tells another middle aged man about a time he went to New Orleans. He thought the French Quarter was too crowded and the jazz scene overrated, so he drove east along the upper neck of the Mississippi Delta to a Swapshack, where he paid a man 50 dollars to take him on a hovercraft to look at alligators. “Such majestic and hideous creatures,” the middle aged man says to the other. “You know, when I was little, I cried thinking about how I would never see a real live dinosaur. All the world had left were bones. But right there in southern Louisiana lay dozens of living dinosaurs. It’s an extraordinary world when you finally realize that all life is magic,” he says. The other middle aged man had heard the story dozens of times, but still he replies: “I hear you, I hear you.”

A young woman thinks about a job interview she never attended. She is happy without that job, yet she feels regret for what could have been. “I cannot imagine myself behind a desk making spreadsheets and memos,” she says to no one. “But I cannot imagine a 5-dimensional horse, nor the width of the void, nor the language of whales. I cannot imagine a lot of things but the pay, the pay would have been pretty good.”

Behind a blighted Palo Verde Tree, hidden between lush acacia shrubs, two teenaged boys kiss for the 50th time or so. It is brief, as one stops to look around, on alert for overbearing parents. They kiss for the 51st time or so and then laugh. Their fingers clumsily fumbling over each other, trying to decide on the perfect grip, the perfect touch. They melt like marshmallows in the flame of inexperienced joy. This moment in their lives is as pure and powerful as they have ever felt and may ever feel again.

My mind is crowded with voices, with people living their lives all day listeners. these are the stories, they are eating fruit and playing cards. They are arguing about who said what and when. They are meditating and conversing, retelling old shows and books they remember from when they had such things. A copy of Tina Fey’s memoir “Bossy Pants” was found in a suitcase seven years ago, and everyone in the group has read it at least once. Someone mutters that they used to have a copy of Karen Russel’s “Swamplandia!”. It was in her purse when they landed here, but someone won’t own up to stealing it. another says the book might have been used to make a fire one night, because whoever made the fire might have thought the owner was done reading it, hypothetically.

It’s been several days since the voices came into my head, and at first it was new and interesting, but already I have grown tired of it. I do not know how Amelia Anna Alfaro lived her whole life with these sounds in her mind. It’s unceasing and I’ve not gotten much sleep. The teenage lovers sneak away each night to hold hands and talk big dreams underneath the moon. It’s sweet and romantic, but at 2 AM, give it a rest boys! I could try to talk back, but none of the voices can hear me. It’s like asking the rain to return to its cloud. But when I talk to Carlos, the voices go way. Thankfully I have my greatest peace when I’m with my favorite person. I can’t keep Carlos awake at all hours or have him skip work to be with me, so I have to learn to make peace with the voices, as they are noisy but permanent room mates in my brain now.

I do have news to report, but it’s mostly stuff you already know about. The high school basketball team has tryouts on Saturday. The library is doing open mic poetry nights on Tuesdays at 7, and we all know it’s a trap. Don’t do it unless you’re well armed. And the Opera House is extending its run of Verdi’s “2 Fast 2 Furious”, starring Renée Fleming, through the end of the month.

It’s hard to concentrate on reading these news stories with so much other language running through my head. Like this: there’s a guy who’s complaining about metal scraps that haven’t been cleaned, and the woman he’s talking to is explaining that they are conserving water for drinking and the guy is saying that it’s unsanitary to make dining utensils out of dirty metal, and she replies that they’re not making any more forks or spoons, they don’t need any more forks or spoons, they need knives but not for eating. What am I supposed to do with this information, it’s been going on nonstop for days? You cannot possibly understand what its’ like to listen to someone you don’t know, who you’ve never even met, who you can’t even see, ramble on and on about their boring personal life straight into your head, it’s awful. I can hear another person saying he’s found something. Good for you pal, way to find another rock or stick or lizard or whatever.

Wait. “Weeeee have founnnnnd ittt,” the voice says. I know this voice. It’s the first voice that’s been familiar to me, where do I know this voice, he is saying “first weeeeeeeee found you. You who are – no where – now weeeeeee have founnnnnnnd itt.” And other men are barking in agreement. Listeners, that voice is Doug Biondi from the asylum, and the voices around him are the agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau, all of whom escaped the Night Vale Asyulm two months ago. They are in nowhere, in an otherworld desert standing near a door attached to no building. Not far from a passenger set, long since rotted away. A jet that has been home to 143 passengers and crew members, one of those 143 – the pilot. Asylum warden Charles Rainier warned us of this. He had been a been a passenger on that plane, he became part of a small commune that grew into an angry cult under the leadership and telepathic influence of the pilot. Charles told us that the pilot would find those who could help him find Night Vale. Help him find the real world, and Doug Biondi knows the way back.

The pilot found Doug and Doug found the pilot. “Iii know the wayyy,” Doug Biondi says, laughing the laugh of a man whose smile is too big for his face. At the foot of a sandy hill, a mother tells her son it is time. “Stop crying, Benny. Stop crying so that there will be more flowers, more beauty.”

Underneath the scant shade of a dilapidated wing of an MD-90 air craft, two middle aged men argue over which hand made axe is sharper. At last, they agree that the one crafted from the rotor flap and held together with the hand belt is the better blade. “No you take it,” one says. “No, I insist you, I’m happy to use the smaller axe,” the other says, “because it is easier to manage what with my back spasms.”

And behind a blighted Paolo Verde Tree, hidden between lush acacia shrubs, two teenage boys kiss the way you kiss when you think it may be your last. They whisper impossible promises and raise high their rusty shovels, the spades’ tips having already been sharpened to deadly points. They race toward the gathering crowd.

A young woman who thinks often about the job interview she never attended shouts: “Nature is beauty!” “We are beauty!” replies antoher woman. They repeate these calls. “Nature is beauty! We are beauty!” And now every voice in my head is chanting the phrases, chanting and chanting and chanting, it’s too… it’s too much!

Silence. They’re silent suddenly. My head is clear. I can think my own thoughts.

Night Vale, I’m getting word that Sheriff Sam is barring all known passages into our town. This includes roads, trails, sewer grates, even the Dog Park which is not officially an entrance to the Desert Otherworld, but you know, let’s be honest here. We’re on lockdown, Night Vale. No one enters or leaves.

Good. This is good. If the voices can reach me, they can reach any of us. In fact, if the voices can enter my mind, then the pilot and passengers of flight 18713 may well already be here, or some of them anyway. Or maybe the voices come and go. This is the first moment of silence I’ve had alone in nearly a week. Maybe the voices aren’t always there like, like radio signals as you leave a city or, or a cell phone in an elevator, maybe the voices can’t permeate us under certain conditions or maybe… Or maybe… The voices are silent because… they are listening. Maybe they’re listening to their leader, their pilot who is giving instructions on what to do next, when and where to attack.

I don’t know. But I must use my moment of clarity to tell you some news. Nope, the voices are back. A single voice is back. I know, without knowing, that it is the voice of the pilot. He says: [in a neutral tone] “Uh, hi there, this is your pilot speaking. Just wanted to let you know that nature is beauty, we are beauty. We propagate our pollen, we spread our seeds, we grow new life over old life, we cleanse the toxins of technology. We depose the human king and return natural instinct to its rightful throne. If you can hear my voice, then you are chosen. You are chosen to join all who join our nature. All who join our beauty. All who refuse will be recycled into the earth, destroyed and dispersed to fertilize new more beautiful life. All those who are beautiful are chosen. All those who are not, are a cancer, blight, infection and disease. All who are not beautiful will be cut away, amputated, so that the Earth’s wounds may finally leave, so the Earth may grow beautiful once again.

We have been found and we will return. Open the gates to freedom, end the tyranny of artifice. That’s all for now, we’ll be arriving in just a few moments, Night Vale. There is going to be some turbulence.”

[distraught] I’m sorry, listeners! I did not meant to do that, I did not want to do that! The voice of the pilot overtook me and I, oh, I need to lock myself inside the studio, I have to protect you from me, but first the weather.

[“A Prayer for the Sane” by Danny Schmidt http://dannyschmidt.com]

I brought Carlos to the studio. When I talk to Carlos, I don’t hear the voices of the passengers from 18713. I don’t hear the voices even now as I look directly at Carlos while I’m speaking. Like Charles Rainier’s fishing hole or, or Amelia Anna Alfaro’s puzzles, Carlos grounds me, lets me be wholly me.

Thank you, Carlos.

Oh, I also had Carlos bring a pair of handcuffs with him that he bought at –Target on his way to the station, and used them to shackle me to my desk. If Charles Rainier is correct, then once the pilot can speak to you, he can control you. And if that should happen, it won’t happen but if it should, then now I won’t be able to leave here and do harm to anyone else.

From my window, I can see far down the street a spiral of black smoke. There are flashes of emergency sirens. Now I can see people coming up the road. They are long-haired, sun-scorched and nearly naked, wearing not much more than flat wide-brimmed hats and short tunics fashioned from seat upholstery. These people are carrying large blades, roughly honed from scrap metal. Some have widdled down pieces of plexiglass windows into sharp points and tied them to ends of long sticks. They’re deliberately walking up the hoods of parked cars and smashing windows and caving in the roofs with their bare feet.

It is no doubt that the passengers of 18713 are here, Night Vale. If you can hear me, sty inside and lock your doors. If you can her the pilot, then do as I have done. Secure your position so securely that not even your own mind can talk you out of it. Sheriff Sam has stubbornly kept up all roadblocks in and out of town, so we have no choice but to stay. The long unmoving lines of traffic at the edges of the city are easy prey now for the 18713. The pilot offered the choice of joining or refusing, but it is not a choice, not really. He either can control you or he cannot. Those whom he cannot control will be killed at the hands of those who can.

[anxiously] Carlos? You don’t hear the pilot voice, and thus cannot be controlled. But I do, and I can. I have been controlled. We’re in trouble, Carlos. I can’t stay chained to this desk forever, can I? And if the pilot means to destroy you, he might make – me do it myself. Just promise me you’ll run. Leave me behind if that happens, OK? OK. But for now, do not let me out of these cuffs, not even if I use a safe word, which I hear is something quite a few people use in healthy fun intimate relationships.

The people of 18713 are climbing up storefronts and tearing off signs. I can see about 10 or 15 in normal street clothes in the crowd now, which means the group is growing. They are recruiting quickly.

But something else is eating at me. In the asylum, in Doug Biondi’s journal and among the myriad voices in my mind, I still have not seen nor heard Amelia Anna Alfaro, the first person to make contact with the pilot. She disappeared in 2012 and no one has heard from her since. I need to find her. Somehow, if anyone can solve this, it might be her. She was always the best at everything.

Stay tuned next for the sound of me talking to Carlos forever and ever.

Good night, Night Vale. [creepily] Gooood night.

Today’s proverb: People who live in glass houses shouldn’t hire that realtor again.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 166 #delta

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