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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Toms attempt at impressing you goes very wrong…then very right

Masterlist

“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” Tom read off one of the papers from the bucket before looking at you. “I think it was the backflip. Do you remember that?”

“I don’t remember there being any backflips that day.” You laughed at him, making him roll his eyes.

“Do you see how mean she is to me?” Tom playfully asked the camera. “I think that was my most embarrassing moment but it ended up being the best day of my life.”

“You think that was the best day of your life?” You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “You got hurt.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Because on the one hand, it was the day I ate shit in front of the girl I liked. But it was also the day we finally got together, which makes it the best day in the history of days.”

“The history of days.” You laughed at his wording as the camera crew laughed as well.

“Was that not a good day for you?” Tom pretended to be offended as he picked up another slip of paper.

“No, no.” You assured. “It was the best day of my life too. But It was also super embarrassing.”

1 year ago

“What are you up to?”

“I’m just stretching for the day. I have to stay limber if I’m gonna keep playing Spider man.” Tom said as he stretched his arms. “Watch this.”

Tom bent down and touched his toes before looking up at you smugly.

“Wow, hot shot.” You snorted. “That’s pretty impressive. Can you do a backflip too?”

“That’s how I got the role, actually.” Tom joked. “Because I can do a backflip.”

“I bet you can’t do one right now.” You challenged him.

“I so can.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Nah.” You shook your head. “I bet it’s all CGI.”

“Darling, I’ve been a gymnast all my life.” Tom said smugly. “I can most certainly do a backflip.”

“Hm. No.” You scrunched your nose. “I don’t believe you.”

“All right.” Tom cracked his neck. “Watch me.”

He stepped back and shook out his shoulders, sneaking a glance at you to check if you were watching. You folded your arms and gave him a nod, telling him to go ahead. Tom let out a breath, got in position, and attempted a back flip. Instead of going in a full rotation like he planned, he fell flat on his face. You and Tom heard the crunch at the same time, making you gasp as he let out a groan.

“Oh my God!” You shrieked and crouched down beside him, rolling him over. “Is he dead? Are you dead?”

“Call an ambulance.” Tom groaned as a steady stream on blood ran from his nose.

“Your nose is crooked.” You grimaced as you held his face. “Is it supposed to be crooked?”

“Did I knock my teeth out?” Tom smiled weakly at you, making you laugh.

“No. Your teeth are fine.” You chuckled as you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “Are you okay?”

“As much as I’m enjoying you in top of me right now, I’d really appreciate you calling a doctor. My nose feels like it has a heartbeat.”

“Right. Sorry.” You grimaced again. “Can we get a medic over here?”

Within ten minutes, Tom was sitting in his trailer with the medic inspecting his nose. You were sitting by his side, holding his hand and bouncing your leg nervously.

“Is he okay?” You asked the doctor as you squeezed Toms hand.

“It’s definitely broken.” The doctor said as he felt Toms nose.

“Lovely.” Tom sighed.

“Oh my God.” You whined. “Can you fix it?”

“Yeah.” The doctor shrugged. “All I have to do is reset it.”

“Will that hurt?” You asked as you held your intertwined hands to your chest. Tom stifled a laugh at how you were acting, fretting over him like a nervous wife.

“I’ve had this happen before.” Tom assured you. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“Okay, good.” You sighed in relief. “I was gonna say you could keep holding my hand if you needed to but if it doesn’t hurt then-“

“Just in case.” Tom squeezed your hand before you could let go. “You never know how badly something is going to hurt.”

“It’s gonna hurt pretty bad.” The doctor mumbled, making you gasp and Tom give an angry look.

“Oh my God.” You whined. “I can’t believe I did this to you. You’re gonna be in so much pain and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not brain surgery, darling.” Tom laughed and tucked your hair behind your ear with his free hand. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry.” You frowned and kissed the back of his hand. “You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need.”

“Okay, I’m gonna fix it in the count of three.” The doctors said as he got in position. He reset Toms nose with a loud crack, making Tom squeeze your hand as hard as he could for your sake. The doctor bandaged Tom up and gave him an ice pack before leaving the trailer.

“This is all my fault.” You sighed as soon as he left. You rested your head on his shoulder and rubbed his arm soothingly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Darling, I hardly think you’re to blame for this.” Tom chuckled as he rested his chin on your head.

“I am.” You whined. “I was trying to flirt with you and get you to do a backflip and now your nose is broken and it’s all my fault.”

“You were trying to flirt?” Tom perked his head up and looked at you curiously.

“Yes and clearly I should never do it again because I put you in grave danger.” You pouted as you stroked his cheek.

“Darling, do I look like I’m in danger?” Tom teased you. “I’m okay. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“But you got hurt because of me.” You jutted your bottom lip out and wiped some dried blood off his face.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He insisted as he pulled out his phone. “But I do want to put this on Instagram.”

“Guys, I accidentally broke my nose on set and look at Y/n.” Tom laughed as he looked into the camera. He panned it to you, but you were busy chewing you bottom lip and staring at Tom with guilty eyes.

“I feel so bad.” You pouted as your eyes flicked to the camera.

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “I don’t blame you at all.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled as you pulled his face close to yours and pressed kissed all over it. Tom laughed as you did it, feeling his cheeks flush beneath your lips. You pulled away but kept your hands on his face.

“Can I kiss your nose?” You asked cautiously and Tom burst out laughing.

“Go ahead.” He said. “You’re acting like you’re asking for my kidney.”

You ignored his teasing and gave him the worlds most gentle kiss on the nose.

“Did that hurt?” You asked as you quickly pulled away.

“You barely touched me.” Tom chuckled.

“Well I don’t know.” You whined and grabbed the ice pack the doctor left. You placed another gentle kiss on Toms nose before holding the ice pack to his face. Tom, who was busy loving all the attention from you, pulled out his phone again.

“Look at this.” He panned the camera to you. “She’s holding the ice pack to my face.”

“Leave me alone.” You sighed. “I’m guilt ridden.”

“It’s okay.” Tom reminded you as he rubbed your knee. He silently posted the video to document the day as you checked his forming bruise.

“No it’s not.” You sighed again. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m all right, love.” Tom shook his head. “I just want you to stay here.”

“No. I can’t take this guilt.” You shook your head. “You have to punch me in the face.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To make it even.” You insisted as you cupped his face. “You have to break my nose since I broke yours.”

“You didn’t break my nose.” He reminded you. “If I broke yours, that would be domestic violence.”

“No. It’s only domestic violence if we’re dating.” You told him while stroking his hair.

“I don’t think that’s true.” Tom chuckled, feeling his face heat up again.

“The guilt won’t go away until you break my nose.” You said. “You have to do it.”

“Darling.” Tom cupped your face, making your panic halter. “I would never hurt you. And you would never hurt me. I know that. Don’t you know that?”

“Tell that to your broken nose.” You pouted as you put the ice pack back on his nose.

“Me and my broken nose forgive you.” He repeated. “And we’re not gonna punch you in the face.”

“Then at least let me take care of you today.” You countered. “I’ll take you back to the hotel and stay with you until you feel better.”

Not wanting to admit he felt better already, Tom nodded with a soft smile. He played along as you instructed him to lean on you as you brought him back to the hotel. You helped him on to the bed and he thought you’d leave it there, but he was pleasantly surprised when you climbed in bed next to him.

Tom laid his head in your lap as he held his ice pack to his face. You were running your hands through his hair and twirling his curls around your fingers.

“You do not have to be this nice to me.” Tom said as he gazed up at you.

“Yes I do.” You told him. “I broke your nose.”

“I broke my nose.” Tom reminded you. “You were just a witness to my embarrassment.”

“But I was a leading factor in you breaking it.” You groaned. “I was the number one cause.”

“You were not.” He insisted. “It’s no ones fault.”

“No ones fault but mine.” You grouched as you brushed the hairs off his forehead.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Tom laughed, but he was secretly loving it. “I need Instagram to see this.”

“I wanted to give you guys an update.” Tom said as he held his phone towards you. “She is now in my bed with my and combing my hair.”

“I feel so bad.” You whined for the millionth time as you carded your fingers through his curls.

“I know you do, love. But you don’t have to.” He smiled as he looked up at you. You looked at him for a moment before letting out a whine and leaning down to kiss his forehead. He kept recording as you kissed all over his face, nearing his lips a few times.

“The kisses are appreciated but they’re not going to heal my nose.” Tom chuckled as he sat up a little so you were holding him like a baby.

“They might.” You laughed as you continued to kiss his face. Your lips brushed the corner of his lips and he felt his heart stop for a minute. He started recording again, wanting to memorialize the day forever.

“I keep thinking you’re gonna kiss me.” Tom said quietly as his soft eyes stared into yours.

“I’m about to.” You laughed as you held his face in his face. You stroked your thumb over his cheekbone before leaning down and kissing him on the lips. You pulled away laughing after just a few seconds, leaving Tom completely starstruck.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” He sputtered as your contagious laughter got to him. He laughed too, accidentally posting the video as he let his phone fall on to the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You threw your head back laughing. “I just feel so bad.”

“You kissed me because you feel bad?” Tom asked as he laughter died down, feeling a little disappointed in the reason. You looked away and held back a smile, as well as the urge to say “no Tom, I kissed you because I’m in love with you.”

“What are people saying?” You changed the subject quickly to avoid that conversation.

“What?” Tom regained his composure, still hung up on the kiss.

“Online.” You explained. “I know you’ve been posting the videos. And I know people are talking.”

“Oh.” Tom nodded and scrolled through Twitter, still feeling a little disappointed. “They’re saying we make great couple.”

“What about you?” You asked coyly. “What do you think?”

“About what?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“About what kind of couple we’d make.” You shrugged casually, but your heart was pounding in your ears. Tom opened his mouth but shut it, trying to decide what to say as he flushed a deep red.

“I don’t know.” He said softly. “All I know is you kissing and holding me all day is something I could get used to.”

“Oh.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes bore into his. He sat up a little and turned his body to face you.

“Actually, darling.” He continued with a soft tone. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to it. I think if someone like you was loving me, I’d be counting my blessings everyday. I don’t think I’d ever grow accustomed to the goosebumps I get when you look at me.”

“Are you sure you’d want to be loved by someone who broke your nose?” You asked playfully as you raised your eyebrow.

“As long as you don’t break my heart as well, I think I’ll be okay.” Tom smiled gently as he tucked your hair behind your ear. He left his hand there and slowly stroked your cheek with his thumb as he gazed into your eyes.

“I wouldn’t do that.” You shook your head as you kept your eyes on his lips.

“I believe you.” Tom mumbled before leaning in to kiss you. Before your lips could touch, you sharply pulled away and looked at him in a panic.

“Wait.” You shook your head as you collected yourself while a look of disappointment settled on Toms face.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He sputtered. “I thought-“

“You have to tilt your head to the right.” You cut him off. “And I’ll go left.”

“What?” He blinked in confusion, still thinking you didn’t want to kiss him.

“So I don’t hurt your nose any further, silly.” You smiled at him as you leaned in again. He chuckled to himself before tilting his head to the right and leaning in the rest of the way. Your lips connected as you steered clear of his nose and suddenly, all his pain melted away.

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scattered-irises · 2 years ago

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Tale I: A Taste of Gingerbread

Illustration by @aerialartistic

My head feels like it’s underwater and I am coughing so badly that I think my ribs are about to crack. Every cough is a stab in the gut. I should be asleep. But I am not because I am here to bring you chapter 1 of Happy☆Heroine☆Sniper (which is also available on AO3).

Who thought it was a good idea to give Vector a gun again?

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6782

Characters: Kamishiro twins, Thomas Arclight, Kamishiro parents, Vector, Tetsuo, Takashi Todoroki

Relationships: N/A

Warnings: Cannibalism, alcoholism, abusive parents, murder, Hansel and Gretel retelling, witchcraft, a rabbit dies

Summary: Rio and Ryoga are abandoned by their parents and saved by a kindly wizard who lives in a candy cottage. What could go wrong?

“Once upon a time…there was a kingdom where jewels rained from the sky and everyone, from the simplest of peasants, to the wealthiest of kings, had something to fill their stomachs. This kingdom was named—”

The sound of Ryoga’s stomach rumbling interrupts him from reading the story to his sister. Rio sighs and pushes her brother’s slice of bread back into his hands.

“Don’t play the hero. I’ve had enough of that,” she warns. “You need this as much as I do.”

Ryoga’s brows furrow and he feebly pushes the slice back into Rio’s hands.

“No, you take it. I can fish, remember?” he mutters. “Besides, I’m stronger than you.”

Furrowing her brows in a manner similar to her twin, Rio’s hand shoots out and squeezes his nose, eliciting a weak cry.

“Take the bread,” she hisses.

“B-but!” protests Ryoga.

Rio twists his nose.

“You can’t hunt if your stomach is empty!”

She grabs her brother’s slice of bread and crams it into his mouth before he can shout. Ignoring his muffled protests, she turns away and pulls open the curtain separating their beds from their parents’.

The thin backs of their parents shudder and fall in their sleep. If she listens closely, she can hear the sound of her mother sobbing.

Throughout this harsh winter, she had done all she could to keep them fed, yet even her resourcefulness had been drained. Their father, on the other hand, was a simple woodchopper, offering his services to their neighbors every morning. Yet during this winter, he was able to find less and less buyers for his timber. And so, their pantries had emptied, bit by bit.

Even Ryoga’s hunting had dwindled, a sign that even the animals of the forest were suffering.

Rio pulls the curtains back and surreptitiously places her hand on her stomach, trying to transfer the warmth in her palm into her empty stomach. Her brother immediately notices and he reluctantly nibbles on his bread.

“Are you sure about…?”

“Yes,” hisses Rio, blowing out the candle by their window. “Eat fast and go to sleep so you can go and hunt tomorrow.”

The sound of stale bread being crunched between teeth lulls Rio into a dreamless slumber.

When she awakens, the sun has barely risen. The hushed voices of their parents fill the other side of the room, coupled with their mother’s muffled sobs. Beside her, Ryoga has dangled his arm over their bed, snoring softly. Rio swats her brother’s cheek, receiving a grunt of irritation.

“What…?” he mumbles sleepily.

“Listen,” whispers Rio.

Groggily, Ryoga rubs his eyes and the saliva from his cheek. He bumps against Rio’s shoulder and then leans against it, still not fully awake.

“We can’t leave them…,” sobs their mother. “We’ve raised them this long already…”

“Did I ask you to give me two wailing brats?” hissed their father.

From his slurred speech, Rio could tell that he had already started drinking. Without anyone to buy his wood, he was left at home and whiled the hours away with drink. Where he got the money, no one knew. Rio herself was far too frightened to ask.

“This morning,” continues their father.

“At least let them sleep in a bit…,” begs their mother.

A grunt, reminiscent of Ryoga’s, follows. Rio swallows the lump in her throat. She exchanges a glance with her brother, who was now fully awake.

What do we do? she mouths desperately.

Ryoga gives her a singular nod and then crawls back into bed, feigning sleep.

“Pebbles,” he utters.

Soft snores follow. Uneasily, Rio follows her brother’s example. With all of her thoughts running around in her mind, she finds herself falling into another deep sleep.

When their mother comes to wake them, her eyes are swollen and her smile is tremulous.

“Good morning, my dears,” she calls softly. “Will you go and help your father gather wood for today?”

Ryoga is the first to rise and looks out the window.

“It’s a bit late to help, isn’t it?” he asks.

Their mother’s expression twitches.

“He wanted to let you two sleep in a bit. You both looked like you needed it.”

“I see…,” murmurs Rio as she gets out of bed.

Allowing them to sleep until noon meant that there would be no need to feed them breakfast.

“Let’s not take too long, then. Father’s waiting, after all,” says Rio breezily as she takes her shawl and wraps it around her arms.

“Yes…hurry along,” says their mother, her voice shaking at the end.

She busies herself with wrapping their lunch inside two cloth packages. Rio takes a peek and notices that it’s a small slice of cheese and crusts of bread. Nothing meant to last for two teenagers sent to death.

The twins quickly dress in their warmest clothes and take their lunches, rushing out of their cottage. On the path leading into the woods, their father awaits with a dark expression.

“Took you two long enough,” he mutters.

“I need to go to the back,” says Ryoga as he rushes to the back of their house.

“That little…!”

“It’s the call of nature, he can’t help it!” protests Rio.

She knew very well that Ryoga’s pebble collection was hidden in the back of the house. She clasps her hands together and begins to pace back and forth. Her father lets out a tired sigh.

“Rio…,” he begins, weary eyes glancing up at the clear winter sky.

Rio freezes, her thoughts racing through her mind. What would their father do if he found out that they had heard his idea? Could she cry and beg? When she was younger, that had always worked. She worries her lips.

“You’re a good child,” finishes her father, putting a sturdy hand on her head.

Rio’s shoulders lower and she looks into her father’s tired expression. His eyes refuse to meet hers.

“Alright, let’s go,” says Ryoga as he walks back onto the path.

Their father quickly pulls away from Rio and begins to briskly walk through the woods. The barren stumps of the trees marked their father’s labors. The empty berry bushes reminded Rio of summer, where they were once glistening with red and sweet fruits. As the trees began to repopulate the paths, Rio began to hear the sound of a pebble being dropped after every few paces or so.

“Where are we going?” asks Ryoga as he surreptitiously flicks a pebble to the floor.

“Where the wood is best,” grunts their father.

As they rush down the unfamiliar pathways, Rio can’t help but notice their father’s unsteady gait and bony frame. He was beginning to bald in the middle of his head and streaks of gray were beginning to dot his sides. His breath comes out in plumes of mist, as if parts of his soul were escaping piece by piece.

She doesn’t know how far they’ve gone, but the snow drifts appear to be untouched in this part of the woods. When they arrive at a clearing, their father stops and he drops his axe.

“Go and help me look for sturdy trees, won’t you?” he grunts.

He swipes his running nose and waves them off.

“The best ones are deep in there. Come back in half an hour or so,” he grunts.

“And what will you be doing?” asks Ryoga, an edge in his voice.

Their father narrows his eyes and his upper lip twitches.

“None of your damned business, you impertinent brat,” he snaps. “Now go! Daylight’s wasting.”

“Drinking,” mutters Ryoga to Rio. “That’s what he’ll do to forget the fact that he tried to send his two children to death.”

They march off into the woods and stop after Ryoga’s pockets have been emptied of pebbles. Quietly, they sit down and unwrap their lunches. Upon closer inspection, the bread crusts are spotted with mold and the cheese is stale. Rio twists her lips in dissatisfaction and carefully nibbles her cheese.

“They really left us for dead, huh?” she mutters.

“When we get back, we could shame them,” offers Ryoga.

Rio snorts.

“Father would toss a bottle of wine at your head. Let’s just pretend that nothing unusual happened,” she says.

He hadn’t always been like this. In her youth, she can fondly remember her father taking them to the village fairs and playing his fiddle as they danced around his feet. It was only because of the damned famine that had soured his spirit. Never in her life had she experienced such a bitter winter, where the winds howled and the snow piled on in drifts. There had been difficult winters before, yet none like this.

She supposes that if she was driven to a certain point of desperation, she would have also abandoned her children. She glances at Ryoga from the corner of her eye and notices that a far away look is in his eyes. He must have been planning something.

Her brother wasn’t someone who was generous with his thoughts. If he had wanted to share his important plans with her, he would have already. Rio finishes the last of her cheese and then looks up at the sky and then at their shadows.

“What are we going to do now?” she sighs. “Wait for half an hour and then go back?”

Already, the winter sun was beginning to set.

“Let’s take longer than that. How about we try hunting? If we bring them something home, they could realize that they need us,” suggests Ryoga.

Rio nods.

“Just don’t get mad at me if I don’t spring the traps right.”

Ryoga gives her a tired grin.

“I’m too hungry to be angry.”

The traps they set up take longer than expected, their hushed conversations passing time away. Looking at their handiwork, Rio and Ryoga exchange tired smiles. They sit down on a log and follow the trail of pebbles that Ryoga had created.

“I think mother will be happy to see us,” begins Rio.

“Of course she will,” agrees Ryoga.

Rio sighs and rests her head on her brother’s shoulder.

“Tell me a story, won’t you?” she whispers.

Her brother chuckles and he pats her head.

“Fine,” he breathes. “But if we scare away all the animals, I’m going to blame you.”

Rio pouts and pinches her brother’s cheek.

“You’re so mean!”

“No story then,” chuckles Ryoga.

Grumbling, Rio lets go of her brother and sits up. She crosses her arms and glares at the empty traps.

“Alright, alright... I’ll tell you a new story that I heard last summer. And it’s a real one too,” breathes Ryoga.

Rio pauses and she turns to her brother.

“What story?”

“It was something that happened to a friend of a friend.”

Ryoga is answered by a dismissive eye roll. He feigns a frown.

“I thought you were the one who told me not to judge a book by its origins.”

“I won’t believe a single word you’ll tell me. This story is strictly for entertainment purposes only,” huffs Rio.

“Ah, so I’m a clown, meant to entertain you?” challenges Ryoga.

Rio sticks out her tongue.

“You’re always a clown, especially around that village boy, Yuma!”

A hint of color fills her brother’s cheeks and he lets out a choked noise. Relishing in her brother’s embarrassment, Rio grins. Ryoga gently punches her on the arm and tries to hide his blush by turning away.

“A-anyways, on the other side of the woods, there’s a young man that everyone calls Little Red. He’s the only one in the village who dares to walk through the woods at night. Once, he even fought a pack of wolves with his bare fists and brought home their pelts.”

Rio snorts.

“And you expect me to believe this?”

Her brother shrugs.

“It seems like given the right circumstances, anything can happen in this country.”

“Anything, huh?” murmurs Rio. “Then let’s hope that tonight, we’ll have a filling dinner.”

Side by side the twins clasped their hands together and closed their eyes, hoping to hear the telltale sound of an animal wandering through the underbrush. Before they realized it, the sun had sunk low into the sky and their traps remained empty. Disheartened and hungry, the twins stood up to gather their traps and return home before the sunlight completely vanished from their world.

“Wait—” says Ryoga, holding his sister back.

“What?” hisses Rio, her stomach clawing at her from hunger.

“There,” whispers Ryoga.

A rabbit, with a pelt as white as snow, timidly wandered close to their trap. The twins froze, watching the animal with bated breath. The rabbit twitches its pink nose and then continued to hop along towards the noose. Rio bites her lip as the rabbit approaches, hop by hop.

Its shriek as the trap caught it brings relief to Rio’s shoulders. She lets out a sigh and exchanges a tired smile with her brother.

“Rabbit stew, huh?” murmurs Ryoga as he takes out his knife.

“Better than warm water and salt,” quips Rio, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

She turns away as her brother dispatches the rabbit, its death-cry bringing tears to her eyes. Throughout her entire life, she could never bring herself to look into the eyes of the animals that her father and brother hunted. No matter what creature it was, fear and hope always filled the animal’s eyes. She quickly wipes them away before her brother can see and begins to walk back from where they came. Her brother hurriedly follows along, their footsteps crunching in the grass that was beginning to frost over.

“It’s starving almost as much as we are,” murmurs Ryoga on the way home.

“Better us than it,” mumbles Rio.

A moment of silence follows. Her brother lets out a sigh.

“We have to eat them. I know it’s hard, but we have too,” murmurs Ryoga.

“I know,” whispers Rio. “I just wish I wasn’t so weak-hearted around them.”

Her brother softly chuckles, playfully kicking a pebble away.

“I like that about my little sister. It means that she has a good heart,” he says.

Quietly, Rio grabs his hand, relishing in the warmth.

“You won’t ever leave me, right?” she asks.

“Of course not. I’d lose my head without you,” chuckles her brother.

“And I’d lose my best friend,” returns Rio.

In the setting sun, the twins exchange smiles and make their way home in peace. As the trees grow more sparse and the familiar glow of their home arrives in the distance, the twins pick up their pace.

“I think I have some preserved rosemary from the summer festival. We could have the rabbit stew with that,” offers Rio.

“Stop it, I’m already hungry as it is!” grumbles Ryoga.

Despite that, a smile plays on his lips. He looks at their home and pauses for a few moments.

“Huh. Usually, there should be a fire,” he notes.

With a woodchopper for a father, their household never ran out of wood to keep their house warm. The smokeless chimney seemed to be the herald of something amiss. Rio walks closer to her brother, furrowing her brows.

“Perhaps they regretted their decision so much, they forgot,” she suggests, trying to swallow the pit of unease in her stomach.

They walk closer to their home and peer into their windows. The sound of muffled screaming could be heard amid the candlelight. Their father looms over their mother like a menacing shadow, his woodchopper’s ax held above her.

“Damnit, woman! Where is the money?!” he snaps.

“It’s gone! It’s all gone! You’ve drunken it all away like you always have!” shouts their mother.

Their father approaches their mother with a lolloping gait, the ax shaking in his hands.

“Quit lyin’ you stupid bitch. I know you’ve got some lyin’ around somewhere…,” he slurs.

“I don’t!” sobs their mother. “I don’t!”

“SHUT IT!” yells their father as he swings the ax down.

Their mother’s bloodcurdling screams fill the air. The twins take a collective gasp as her blood arcs and spatters their father’s clothes.

Rio shakily takes a step towards the door, only to be stopped by her brother. amid the screams of their mother and drunken yells of their father, the twins remain locked in each other’s grasp, frozen. Ryoga pales as he catches his father’s eye through the window. Kicking their mother’s body aside, their father lurches towards the door.

“What the hell are you demons looking at?! It’s your fault she’s like this…!” he shouts.

Dropping the rabbit, Ryoga pulls Rio back towards the woods. He forces himself to continue on, even when he hears the door behind them opening and their father’s pursuing footsteps.

“Don’t look back,” he hisses.

Blindly, they stumble through the trees, unsure of where they are going. Their father’s drunken stumbling and swearing spurs them on, even as the woods themselves try to hold them back. The branches snag and scratch at the siblings’ clothes and skin, leaving behind bloody scratches and torn sleeves. As their father’s footsteps fade into the distance, the twins continue on until they collapse in a sweaty heap, their chests heaving with effort.

Ryoga coughs, tasting the metallic tang of blood at the back of his throat.

“Is he gone?” he wheezes.

“I couldn’t run any longer even if he wasn’t,” chokes Rio.

She weakly grasps her brother’s hand. In the darkness, they blindly stumble through the underbrush. A frigid breeze blows through their threadbare clothes, forcing them to huddle together for warmth. Distantly, they begin to hear the sounds of waves crashing against rocks. There wouldn’t be any more places to run soon. At the edge of the woods were seaside cliffs with jagged rocks, mercilessly impaling anyone foolish enough to leap into the sea.

A golden light dimly appears in a copse of trees, pulsating on and off. Warily, Ryoga nudges his sister towards the light. Perhaps someone would take pity on their bedraggled states and allow them a place to stay for the night. They weakly part the bushes in their way, stumbling in the damp earth.

“Someone’s cooking something…,” murmurs Ryoga, sniffing the air.

A dreamy expression fills Rio’s face as she looks at her brother.

“It smells so sweet, just like mother’s rosemary.”

Before his mind can recall what had transpired to the woman in question, Ryoga hurries ahead and bursts through the bushes. His eyes fill with light and he pulls Rio towards him.

“I can’t believe it…!” he breathes.

The delight in his sister’s eyes makes him realize that this wasn’t a hunger-induced hallucination. Like an illustration from their fairytale book, a house made entirely of candy greets them. Its roof was made of large cookie shingles and the windows were made of sugared glass. Frosting lined the eaves of the house and lights glimmered through the window. A small path of gingerbread leads them towards the door.

All of their former hesitance forgotten, they run up to the house and begin to pick at the candy decorations. After popping a gumdrop flower into her mouth, Rio shivers with delight.

“Not even Auntie Mirai’s sweets taste this good…!” she breathes.

Stuffing his mouth with candy canes, Ryoga nods in agreement. Their impromptu feast, tinged with the smell of a warm dinner and flavored by the sweetness of fresh candies soon fill the twins’ faces with smiles, the struggle from before quickly forgotten. So enamored were they with their find that they didn’t hear the footsteps of the candy house’s inhabitant approaching them. The gingerbread door opens with a loud thunk!, nearly hitting a hapless Ryoga whose cheeks were filled with taffy.

“Did no one teach you two manners?!” snaps a young man.

Against the bright light of his house, he appeared to be an angel dressed in gold. The twins freeze, mouths stuffed with candy. They stare at the man like two raccoons caught in an act of mischief. A long scar runs down half of his face and his magenta eyes glare at them with annoyance. His tousled hair is stylishly unkempt, brushing down his face in unruly locks.

The owner of the house pauses, taking in the twins’ torn clothes and scratched cheeks. His mouth twists into a frown. He lets out a sigh and steps back.

“You should come in before it gets too cold. I have roast quail stuffed with rosemary and partridge soup. Unless you two were out here with the sole intention of vandalizing my residence…”

“Who are you?” asks Ryoga, his cheeks still comically filled with candy.

“The owner of this fine establishment that you two thought would be a prime target for your mischief,” answers the man tetchidly.

“We were hungry!” protests Rio. “We haven’t had anything to eat for days! I’m so sorry…we were chased out of our homes because our parents couldn’t feed us anymore and—”

“Then what are you waiting for?! Wipe your shoes on the rug and eat with me!” invites the man.

The twins exchange a delighted glance and run into the warm home.

“Thank you!” they say in unison as they sit down at the sumptuously filled dinner table.

A variety of fruits, cakes, bread and meat awaited them, far too much for just the young man to eat. The man closes the door behind them and watches with a resigned smile as the twins begin to feast before he can even sit himself down.

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” he calls as he walks up to them.

The twins pause. In the full lights, the man can see their bony arms and haggard expressions. Their clothes hung against their bodies like well-used rags, patched and repaired countless times.

“Never mind,” says the man quickly as he takes his own seat and begins to calmly take his own partridge. “You two look like you need all the food you can get.”

“What’s your name?” asks Ryoga, his mouth full of partridge.

He wipes a trickle of fat away from his face with his sleeve and then continues to hungrily devour his meal.

“Thomas,” replies the man, staring at the way his guest ate with a hint of concern.

He had seen children of all kinds in this country, yet had never encountered any as desperate as these two. They seemed to be on the verge of turning into rabid animals.

“I’m Rio and that’s my twin brother, Ryoga,” says the girl.

She dabs at her mouth with a napkin. At least she had a basic semblance of manners, thinks Thomas.

“Twins, huh?” murmurs Thomas as he cuts into his partridge.

“Yup. Are you alone?” asks Ryoga.

“Yeah,” replies Thomas. “Being a…sorcerer means living a solitary life.”

The twins perk up in interest. In their dull lives, meeting a sorcerer must have been akin to meeting the king. Thomas chuckles at their simplemindedness and motions to the vast array of foods before them.

“Now go on, eat your fill.”

“You make yourself a meal like this every night?” asks Ryoga in astonishment.

Thomas chuckles and shakes his head.

“Today was just a special occasion.”

“Oh?” asks Rio.

Thomas flashes a smile, revealing all of his pearly teeth.

“It’s my birthday.”

“Congratulations!” says Rio.

Her brother grunts his assent, far too engrossed in his meal to speak. Thomas laughs and motions to the cake on the table.

“I’m very proud of this in particular. Marionberry and raspberry cream filling with a chocolate cake,” he explains, puffing his chest up with pride.

“It looks good,” agrees Rio, her eyes sparkling.

“You can have it now if you’d like,” invites Thomas conspiratorially. “My house, my rules.”

“I’ve never had dessert mixed with dinner…,” breathes Rio.

Thomas chuckles.

“You only live once, my dear. Why not try it now?” he invites.

He takes out a knife and cuts her a generous slice. Delightedly, Rio takes the slice.

“Ryoga?” she asks.

“Later,” grunts her brother, taking another partridge.

“I’m so sorry about my brother’s manners. He’s not much of a conversationalist,” says Rio awkwardly.

Thomas brezily shrugs, an easy smile filling his face.

“I was the same when I was his age. From the way he’s eating, I can tell that he loves my cooking and that’s enough for me.”

The rest of the night passes by with lighthearted conversation and full stomachs. Generously, Thomas leads them into two baths filled with warm water. By the side of the baths hang a pair of pajamas, tailored perfectly to their size. Invited to stay the night, the twins happily accept the sorcerer’s invitation. Cleaned and dressed in warm clothes, the twins are led into a bedroom decorated with peppermints and gumdrops. The smell of gingerbread mixed with the salty sea breeze brings small smiles to their faces.

Memories of better times fill their minds as they got into their beds. Tucked underneath sheets of spun cotton, the twins drift off into a land of gingerbread and cream, the bloody memories of the night soon forgotten.

When Rio awakens, her eyes sightlessly blink. Disoriented for a few moments, she looks around her and finds her brother in the bed beside her, snoring softly. The smell of something cooking fills her nose and she creeps out of bed. What could Thomas be cooking at such an hour?

She opens the door to their bedroom and creeps down the stairs. The sound of someone screaming soon fills her ears. Immediately, she returns to the quiet daughter that skulked among the bushes as her father beat her mother. Step by step she creeps into the kitchen, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Please…! Just one more day…!” begs a young man’s voice.

“I’ve waited long enough you idiotic pig,” growls Thomas.

He drags a well-fed young man in front of the open oven, where a sheet lies in wait.

“Last night we ate all that remained of your friend. Those idiot twins thought that Takashi was a partridge. Could you believe that?” chuckles Thomas. “Ah, well. They’ll soon learn the truth as you two did.”

Rio’s stomach roils as Thomas’ words sink into her mind. She stares at the scene before her in disbelief, unsure if she was still dreaming.

“Please!” sputters the youth, struggling against Thomas’ grip. “I’ll do anything!”

“You’ve done all you can alive, pig. Now all you need to do is feed me!” snaps Thomas as he lifts the youth and tosses him onto the sheet.

Roughly, he shoves the sheet into the flames of the oven and slams the door shut, barring it closed. The sound of the unfortunate youth slamming against the door follows. Rio’s head spins and she struggles to back away from the gruesome sight. Tetsuo’s screams as the flames licked away at him were reminiscent of her mother’s as she was slaughtered.

“Stuck pigs, the lot of them,” chuckles Thomas.

Somehow, Rio’s feet takes a step back. The floorboard beneath her creaks in response. Like a wolf catching the scent of wounded prey, Thomas pauses. His head swivels towards the sound and a smile—a twisted smile—appears on his lips as he sees a frightened Rio.

“You saw it~” he says in a singsong tone.

He slowly walks towards Rio, drinking in her quivering limbs and wide eyes. With hands tipped by long and curved nails, he cups Rio’s face. Her flesh is cold to the touch.

“When you feast with me, you must return the favor. Isn’t that just the way things should be…?” he purrs.

“We…we’re t-too thin,” stammers Rio.

“Oh, yes, I know,” replies Thomas. “Luckily the pig I just roasted should keep me fed for a week or so.”

His nail grazes Rio’s cheek, digging into her skin and drawing blood.

“In the meantime, I will have a pair of piglets to fatten up.”

He grabs Rio’s wrist and drags her upstairs to the bedroom where her brother remained.

“RYOGA, RUN!” screams Rio.

Thomas lets out a cackle.

“A lot of good that will do him. Keep on screaming though. It makes a delectable breakfast.”

“RYOGA!” repeats Rio.

The door before them opens. Ryoga stares at them with wild eyes and tousled hair.

“What did you do to her, you bastard?!” he snaps as he lunges towards Thomas.

Thomas easily avoids Ryoga’s attack and grabs him by the wrist with his free hand.

“Unfortunately, your sister heard too much…,” sighs Thomas. “I suppose I must reveal myself to you now…”

Despite the twins’ struggling, Thomas easily drags them down into the basement, where a cage awaited them.

“You see, the fee I paid for my powers is the inability to eat normal human foods. I must eat untainted human flesh—namely, the flesh of innocent children to maintain my form,” explains Thomas as the cage swings open its doors. “You two are innocent enough, I suppose.”

“WAIT!” screams Rio.

Thomas pauses, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow. She pauses, not expecting the magician to actually stop and listen to her. Ryoga stares at her with wide eyes. The twins exchange a quick glance before Rio swallows.

“I’ll sacrifice my brother as payment for my apprenticeship,” declares Rio.

An amused smirk fills Thomas’ face while Ryoga’s expression pales.

“Oh…?”

His grip on her eases for a moment and Rio breaks away from him. She looks at him and Ryoga with steel in her expression.

“Yes. I want to learn the dark arts to get revenge on our father. He slaughtered our mother before our eyes and I want to make him pay,” says Rio, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “If it means becoming a monster, then so be it.”

A chuckle bubbles up Thomas’ throat as he tosses her brother into the cage and slams it shut.

“Interesting…! Oh, how interesting and horrible humans are! My father himself sold my eldest brother off to a traveling freak show in return for a pint of beer! And now you come along, wholeheartedly offering your twin brother in the name of revenge! What makes you better than our fathers, hmm?” taunts Thomas.

“Because I do this out of love, not greed,” spits Rio.

Thomas’ face nearly splits in half from his laughter.

“Love…! Love means different things for different people. To my father, it meant beer. To me, it means the fear in my livestock’s faces. Perhaps your definition of love is just as warped as ours.”

Rio peels her gaze away from Ryoga’s horrified expression and forces herself to gaze at Thomas’ twisted smile.

“Do you accept the terms of my contract?” she asks in a quiet voice.

Thomas grasps her hands with his sharp teeth bared in a grin.

“Consider it done.”

🍪

“You’ve done well in impressing me. I didn’t think a simple peasant girl like you could grasp the dark arts so quickly,” chuckles Thomas.

Rio stares down at the voodoo doll she had sewn, its crooked smile based off of her father’s. It hangs limply in her hand, bringing to mind the sight of her father collapsed onto the table after a drunken night. She grimaces.

“We’re not stupid,” she mutters.

“I’d beg to differ,” chuckles Thomas.

He throws his hands up in the air, eyes focused on the out of season sunlight. The rays are bright and warm, melting away all traces of the morning’s frost.

“Today’s the perfect day for a feast, don’t you think?” he begins.

Rio stiffens, staring down into her doll’s button eyes.

“Yes,” she forces out.

Over the last few days, she and Thomas had feasted on the crisp remains of Tetsuo. Each bite drove bile up Rio’s throat while Thomas happily feasted on his meals. Ryoga, on the other hand, received the leftovers. Despite his stubbornness, he had eventually relented. The day Rio found her brother sleeping beside a pile of Tetsuo’s clean-picked bones had ended with her crying herself to sleep.

She didn’t know if she would rather die of starvation or eat human flesh.

Animals have done the same, she thought, trying to reassure herself. I suppose we’re no better.

“He’s still a bit bony for my tastes, but I think it’s about time we officially start your apprenticeship. Do start the oven, won’t you?” asks Thomas softly.

He peels himself from his chair and walks down the steps that led down to the basement. His footsteps fall silent on the aged steps. Rio watches him go with a wary expression. Then she eyes the oven.

Lined with silvery curlicues, Thomas’ oven seems to laugh at her cowardice.

The show is over, ‘little witch,’ teases the oven door. Will you have the courage to do what you must?

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Rio tucks her father’s doll deep into her chest pocket and forces herself to open the oven door. The smell of burnt remains and ash fills her throat, causing her to cough. At the foot of the oven are a pile of logs, neatly gathered into a pile. Hesitantly, she begins to pile them in, as she had at home. Piece…by piece…by piece…

When nothing remains at her feet, she picks up the nearby flint and steel. Behind her, she can hear her brother’s angry shouts as he was dragged up the steps. Wetting her lips, she hits the flint and steel against each other, sending down a cascade of sparks down onto the wood. It wasn’t enough. Biting her lips, she tries again.

The sparks come down at a faster pace. The logs begin to glow.

“Excellent,” purrs Thomas, holding down Ryoga with both of his hands. “Now pull out the rack.”

“Rio…!” gasps Ryoga.

Rio does as she is told, pulling on a frigid mask. The sheet is cold beneath her fingers and stained with soot. Inside the oven, the fire begins to grow.

“Repeat that spell I taught you,” orders Thomas. “The one that makes things grow.”

She takes a deep breath and catches Ryoga’s eye.

“Flowers bloom amid the gloom, stalks and shrooms rise away, winds, storms and tempests all, come to me and be my thrall. I command you all to consume. Fires, oh, so red and bright, rise into a plume to show me your might,” chants Rio.

A rush of power courses through her veins and the world around her glows. The fire before her leaps to magnificent heights, elongating the shadows on Thomas’ face.

“Good, good…,” compliments Thomas. “Now throw your brother in.”

“Rio, don’t!” cries Ryoga. “Don’t you remember our promise to each other?!”

“What promise? I only remember you agreeing, not me,” scoffs Rio. She turns to Thomas, a frigid expression on her face. “Could you tell me if the heat is enough? I want my brother to be cooked to perfection.”

Thomas excitedly nods, letting go of Ryoga and creeping onto the baking sheet.

“Such a diligent student,” he purrs. “Of course you would want—”

“RYOGA!” calls Rio as she shoves the baking sheet into the fire. “HELP ME!”

Shaking himself out of his daze, Ryoga immediately rams himself against the baking sheet, pushing the sorcerer into the flames. The twins hurriedly slam the oven door shut and bolts it, each angry thud from behind them sending a shiver down their spines.

“You really…,”

Tears began to fill Rio’s eyes as Thomas’ muffled cries fill the kitchen.

“I would never give you up for anything,” she chokes. “Not in a million years.”

A weak smile fills her brother’s face. Amid the sounds of the sorcerer being burned to a crisp, he turns to her and holds her hands. They lean against the oven until the sorcerer’s desperate banging gives way to pained screams and finally silence. Once they were certain that the sorcerer was vanquished, the twins pull each other into an embrace.

Ryoga holds Rio tight, brushing away her tears and then running his hands down her back.

“Once this is over, I think you could become an actress with the local troupe,” he murmurs.

“Not if it means having to leave you,” sobs Rio.

She buries her face in the nape of his neck, wetting his ragged shirt with her tears.

“It was horrible, Ryoga. He made me do so many terrible things.”

Her brother nods and holds her tight. Then he lets go and lowers her onto a nearby chair.

“While he was down there, I heard him singing about a room full of treasures. Do you want to go look for it?” he offers in a quiet voice. “We’ll find so many jewels that we’ll be set for life. You could be a princess, if you wanted to.”

Rio dries her tears and sniffles.

“A-are you telling me this just to get me to stop crying?” she asks.

Her brother shakes his head.

“I’ve heard him sing about it multiple times. Once we take our fill, we can leave this house for good.”

His sister shakily nods and gets off of the chair.

“Let’s go then.”

After a few minutes of exploring the sorcerer’s mansion, they come upon a storage room that was tucked in the very back of the house. Upon opening it, they take a collective gasp. Mountains upon mountains of jewels and gold awaited them, glimmering in the dim light. Taking a pearl necklace and allowing it to slide through her fingers, Rio’s eyes fill with joy.

“This is enough to build a palace by the sea…!” she whispers in awe.

“Enough for two palaces by the sea!” laughs Ryoga as he throws up handfuls of gold coins.

Happily stuffing their pockets with their treasure, the twins rush out of the treasure room and back into the gloomy corridor of the mansion. A shadowy figure leans against the wall, whistling a cheerful tune. Upon seeing the oddly dressed man, Rio pauses. The figure peels itself from the wall and slowly claps as he approaches her, amethyst eyes gleaming with malice.

“You’ll end your story there, won’t you…?” the man drawls.

Rio stares up at the young man in confusion. Was this a remnant of Thomas’ magic? She looks behind the man, hoping for a path of escape.

“Who are you?” she utters.

Feigning shock, the man doffs his hat. Much to Rio’s surprise, the hat’s painted mouth opens and replies with a trilled, “Happy☆Heroine☆Sniper♪”

“What my hat sang,” says the man. “Or, you could call me Vector.”

He unslings a long staff from his back and aims it at Rio. The cold metal barrel stares down at her and she realizes with a chill that it’s a rifle.

“It’s a pity, really,” sighs Vector. “I was hoping that you would have cooked your brother. Then you’d be a villain and I wouldn’t have had to dispatch you.”

“I would never!” snaps Rio indignantly, all traces of her fear swallowed by anger. “Never in my life would I—”

“Run, Rio!” yells Ryoga as he barrels into the man.

A loud shot rings out. Red blooms across Ryoga’s side. Rio lets out a scream as her brother falls to the floor, weakly dragging himself towards the door. Vector lets out a sigh and reloads his gun, a single bullet shell clinking to the floor.

“Anyways, where was I?” sighs Vector as he aims the gun at Rio’s head. His finger twitches on the trigger and the sound of the door creaking from behind him causes him to lose his concentration.

Ryoga’s slumped form has already made it halfway through the door, his legs weakly trudging along.

“Rio…!” he calls.

“Run!” urges Rio. “Get help!”

The hesitation in her brother’s eyes makes Rio want to scream.

“If I can’t live, then you have to! You’re all I have!” she shouts.

“He’s as good as dead. I’ll take care of him after you. Always better to be safe than sorry,” hums Vector. “Now, to have you die painfully and slowly or quick with a bright flash of pain…?”

A grin tears across Vector’s face. Behind him, Ryoga has broken into a run. Pain fills Rio’s chest. She can only hope that this man could be found with her corpse.

“The former, obviously!” he cackles.

He aims the barrel at Rio’s heart and pulls the trigger with a grin.

“Now, I’d love to watch the life drain out of your eyes but it looks like your brother’s a runner!” calls the sniper as he sprints towards the door. “Oh, the delight of the hunt!”

Rio’s gaze follows the man’s shadowy form as he tears through the woods. As her vision blurs, her hand weakly clutches her chest. A small smile fills her lips. Somehow, she knew that although she had been caught by this mysterious hunter, her brother would never be.

#zexal #Thomas arclight #Ryoga Kamishiro #Rio Kamishiro #writing from iris #vector #H☆H☆S

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armandyke · 5 years ago

Text

You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say

Summary: The children are twelve, and Diego is worried that Allison is starting to get careless with her powers. The other siblings don’t notice until it’s too late.

Word Count: 2137

Square Filled: Rumour

Characters: All the siblings + Grace and Reginald Hargreeves

Warnings: Mild gore, mild blood, swearing

A/N: The first of nine entries for @tuacreatorsbingo!

You can read it here, or on my AO3

There had been a change in Allison in the last few months, and Diego seemed to be the only one to have noticed. Before, her powers were reserved only for missions and training, but now she seemed to be using them multiple times a day, for the smallest of things. He’d seen her controlling their siblings, and even if he couldn’t prove it, he was certain she’d controlled him too. Several times. Maybe he was the only person who was paying any attention, or maybe the others were choosing to ignore it. Either way, he never mentioned it to anyone, but sometimes he wished he had.

Their last mission was a roaring success. Ten bank robbers apprehended, a few dozen hostages saved, zero casualties. It seemed like forever before they finally managed to escape the hoards of reporters and photographers swarming them. The others didn’t seem to mind of course. Luther stood proudly puffing his chest out, Allison and Klaus were in their element posing for photos, and even Five had a smug smile on his face. He and Ben loitered in the background until finally they were ushered into a car and driven home. When their father greeted them on the doorstep, his heart sunk, but for once he actually had some good news.

“Children,” He said in his usual cold tone of voice, looking down his nose at them. “You completed your mission earlier than expected. There will be no further training until after dinner. Six o’clock, sharp.”

Never one to stay and chat, he turned and headed back inside, presumably returning to his office to get on with… whatever the hell he always did in there.

“I think that’s the closest he’s ever gonna get to paying us a compliment,” Five said dryly from behind him.

“That was a compliment?” Klaus asked and Ben sniggered. “I thought we just got punished.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Luther told him.

Klaus punched Luther in the arm and Luther shoved him, sending him stumbling back a few paces. The two of them moved to hit each other again but Allison grabbed Klaus by the collar, pulling him back and forcing herself between them.

“Stop it,” She ordered. “Dad just gave us the afternoon off and you morons are wasting it.”

“Maybe I wanna spend my free time beating the crap out of my brother,” Klaus said with a shrug and she let out an exasperated sigh.

“We should play a game. We should play… Hide and seek!”

“I don’t want to play that,” Ben mumbled.

“Well I heard a rumour that you do,” She snapped.

Ben looked blank for a moment, before nodding and agreeing that it was a good idea. Nobody else argued.

The rules were always the same. Number 1: No powers allowed. Number 2: Five is the seeker because he never listens to rule 1. Diego hid in one of the dozens of spare bedrooms, laying on his front under the bed with just enough space to peek out and see if anyone was coming. He had no idea how long he’d been hiding there, but he was starting to zone out when a voice next to him startled him and he lifted his head, smacking it on the top of the bed.

“Jeeze,” Klaus said, wincing as Diego rubbed the top of his head. “What did you do that for?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” He muttered. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

“You’re not the seeker.”

“Diego, we have two entire hours to do whatever we want. I’m not spending it hiding behind a curtain. Let’s go do something fun.”

Klaus grinned at him, wriggling out from under the bed and holding his hand out to him. Hesitantly, Diego took his hand and followed him through the maze of corridors and staircases.

“Where are we going?” He asked after a few minutes, completely losing his sense of direction as they ascended yet another flight of stairs.

“Mom’s room,” Klaus told him as he finally ground to a halt outside a door. “I found it last week.”

“M-M-M…” He paused, letting out a frustrated sigh and trying to concentrate. “M-Mom doesn’t have a room,” He said, eyeing up the door suspiciously. “She sleeps in the hall.”

“She still has to keep her clothes somewhere,” Klaus said excitedly, pushing the door open and waving his hands dramatically. “Ta da!”

Behind the door was a walk-in closet, similar to the one their father had, just a little smaller. The racks one one side were filled with brightly coloured dresses, and on the other, coats, hats, and scarves. At the back of the room there was a wooden vanity with an ornate jewellery box and a small collection of makeup.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Klaus said eagerly, spinning around in the middle of the room before running over to one of the racks and running his hands over the fabric.

Diego found himself wondering whether their mom even liked these clothes, or if this was just what their dad wanted her to wear, but before he could dwell on it for too long, Klaus was looping a deep blue silk scarf around his neck and giggling at him.

“You look so fancy.” He sniggered. “Wait! You need a hat!”

Running back over to the rack, Klaus grabbed a black fascinator and pinned into his hair, before pulling him over to the mirror to show him his reflection. Diego burst out laughing when he saw himself.

“I look stupid,” He said as he pulled the fascinator out of his hair, throwing it in Klaus’ face and making him laugh.

“You just don’t appreciate fashion.” Klaus turned on his heel, gasping loudly and turning back around with a pair of bright red high heels in his hands. “What about these!”

“I’m not wearing those,” Diego said, wrinkling his nose up.

“Not for you, idiot.”

He watched as Klaus pulled his shoes off and stepped into the heels, clapping his hands together happily.

“They’re so pretty,” He whispered.

“They’re too big,” Diego observed. “No way can you walk in those.”

“Oh yeah? Just watch me.”

He took a step and immediately lost his balance, grabbing on to one of the dresses as he toppled over and landing with the fabric draped over his head. They both collapsed in a fit of giggles on the floor, leaning against each other as they tried to catch their breath.

“What are you doing?”

They both looked up and saw Allison standing in the doorway, with Five and Luther behind her.

“Dressing up,” Klaus said with a grin, scrambling to his feet and wrapping the pink dress around himself like a skirt. “See? Now I’m you!”

“We were supposed to be playing hide and seek.”

“Well, you found me.” He shrugged. “Diego, I heard a rumour that you… Stood up!”

Sniggering, Diego got to his feet, and Luther and Five laughed. Still wearing the heels, Klaus shuffled back out into the corridor with Diego following behind him.

“I heard a rumour that you all followed me,” Klaus said, trying to mimic Allison’s voice, and headed towards the stairs.

Diego, Luther, and Five all started following him, and Allison folded her arms grumpily.

“That’s not funny, Klaus.”

“Well, I heard a rumour that you do think it’s funny,” He said with a grin, turning back around to face her. “And I also heard a rumour that you stopped being such a spoilsport.”

“I am not a spoilsport,” She muttered.

“I heard a rumour that you admitted you’re a spoilsport,” Klaus said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Shut up!”

“I heard a rumour that you stopped telling me to shut up.”

“I heard a rumour that you stopped talking!”

Klaus was quiet for a moment, and the others glanced at each other uncomfortably. Then, without a word, Klaus turned and took a step down the stairs. Everything happened so quickly that Diego didn’t have time to react. Immediately, Klaus lost his balance in the heels, twisting his ankle and tumbling head first down the stairs. There was a sickening crunch, Allison screamed, and Five jumped to the bottom of the stairs just in time to catch Klaus before his head hit the floor.

A horrified silence hung in the air as they all tried to take in what had happened. From the top of the stairs, Diego couldn’t see how badly Klaus was hurt, but he could see the blood on his face and on Five’s hands.

“Shit,” Luther said behind him, pushing past and running down the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“Someone needs to get mom,” Five said calmly. “Right now.”

Nodding, Luther took off down the corridor.

“What the hell did you do?” Diego asked quietly, turning to Allison.

The colour had completely drained from her face, and it took her a moment to tear her wide eyes away from Klaus to look at him.

“I… That wasn’t me,” She said, shaking her head. “He tripped.”

“Two seconds after you rumoured him.”

“I told him to stop talking! Not fall down the stairs!”

“Well he sure isn’t talking now!”

Allison choked on a sob, clasping her hands over her mouth and shaking her head frantically. Before either of them could say anything else, Luther returned with their mom, whose eyes went wide when she saw Klaus lying with his head in Five’s lap. Diego hurried down the stairs, stopping dead in his tracks on the top step when he finally got a better look at Klaus’. The bottom of his face was swollen and disfigured, blood was pouring out of his mouth, and Diego could see a couple of his teeth had been knocked loose.

“It looks like he’s broken his jaw,” Mom said, smoothing the hair away from Klaus’ forehead. “I’ll need to take him to the medical room.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Five asked as he reluctantly let go so she could pick him up.

“He’ll be fine,” She reassured him. “The rest of you go and play. He won’t be awake for a while.”

After they’d found Ben and Vanya and told them what happened, it was a torturous wait for their mom to return with news. When she finally arrived, they all crowded around her, talking over each other with a million different questions.

“He’s alright,” She said, raising her voice so they could hear her and crouching down to put her arms around them. “But he’ll need to have his jaw wired shut for a few weeks.”

“What does that mean?” Ben asked and she paused for a moment before replying.

“He won’t be able to talk,” She explained. “Not until it heals.”

Diego and Five exchanged a glance, and their mom stood upright again.

“Now you all need to get ready for dinner. You know your father doesn’t like you to be late.”

As the others filed obediently out of the room, Diego tugged on her dress and looked up at her.

“Can I go and see him?” He asked in a hushed voice.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and chewed her lip thoughtfully before nodding. “Alright,” She said, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “Just be quick.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Diego darted out of the room and headed for the medical room. The door was ajar when he reached it, and when he peered inside he saw Allison crouched next to Klaus on the bed. Sneaking inside, he could just about make out her whispering.

“I heard a rumour that you don’t remember what happened.”

Klaus stirred on the bed and Allison ran for the door, almost running straight into Diego on her way out. The two of them stared at each other wordlessly as they passed each other, but Diego was more interested in getting to Klaus than confronting her. He ran over to the bed, putting his hand on Klaus’ shoulder as he blinked a few times at him.

“Hey,” He said quietly. “It’s me.”

Looking up at him, Klaus furrowed his brow and moved his hand up to his mouth, feeling around and wincing.

“You broke your jaw,” Diego explained. “Mom said you’ve gotta have it wired shut. So you can’t talk.”

Despite his explanation, Klaus made a noise as he tried to say something, and Diego got up to look for a notepad, handing it to him and waiting patiently as he scribbled something down. Finally, Klaus held the notepad up for him to see.

“What happened?”

Diego opened his mouth, then shut it again and glanced over at the door, where Allison was still lingering and watching the two of them.

“You tripped,” He said quietly, hanging his head. “You were trying to walk in mom’s heels and you fell down the stairs.”

#tuacreatorsbingo #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #tua fic #river writes #[starts passionately singing heaven on their minds]#my fics

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space-------kid · 5 years ago

Text

cure.

Anime/Manga: One Punch Man Pairing: Garou/fem!Reader Genre: Romance Word count: Warning: Mentions of past (sexual) abuse, mentions of violence. Webcomic spoilers ahead.

Summary:

“Will you have me?”

“Forever.”

i. sorrow. | ii. come on.

“oh, this I swear

i promise to myself

i'll never let you go

give you my heart

and

soul.”

- cure/barcelona

You had to be dreaming.

That was the only thought your mind could muster as your gaze locked with golden ones. The hand under your much smaller one felt warm and all too real, though, and you found yourself tightening your hold on Garou when he made the slightest movement you could only translate as him trying to leave.

Neither of you had any idea how long you simply stared at each other, you still laid on your bed and him kneeling by your bedside. You could feel him hesitating, testing the waters as his hand held in yours moved to resume stroking your hair when tears welled up in your eyes again.

His brows were pinched with worry, hand moving down from your hair to wipe away your tears. But you weren’t sad nor afraid, and you wanted so badly to assure him that you were happy to see him again.

Events that led to your separation played in your mind and you were a hypocrite if you would say that they hurt no more - what Garou did still hurt, but you wanted to know what made him do it.

“Why?”

Your voice was too quiet, too timid, and Garou bit his lower lip as yours trembled with renewed tears. He hated seeing you cry, more so when he was the cause for your tears.

If only he hadn’t fucked up-

He wanted to apologize, but that was not what you were asking.

Why, indeed.

Garou took your hand and pressed his lips on your wrist, feeling your pulse quicken. His gaze bore into yours deeply, assessing the emotions flashing in your [color] eyes.

Pain.

Happiness.

Loneliness.

Relief.

There was never an ounce of fear, not anymore, unlike your last meeting when you fled from him.

Guilt replaced fear, he realized as you sat up, your free hand finding the back of his neck. Why? Because your fear of him hurt him?

“Why?” you asked again, a little breathlessly this time as his lips remained on your skin. Never had you felt and seen him so vulnerable as he was now. To you, Garou had always been so strong, even when burdened by his injuries. The way he was looking up at you bled an unspoken apology, and you knew that you would readily give him your forgiveness.

Perhaps you already knew why he touched you, kissed you that day. But you didn’t want to assume anything. You wanted to hear, wanted to know what was on his mind. Only then would you let him hear that you have already forgiven him.

“I...” he looked so unsure - felt so unsure - for the first time in his entire existence. But you were waiting for his answer, deserving to know how he felt. Now was the time to be straightforward like he always had been.

“I don’t know,” Garou replied. At seeing the crestfallen look on your face, he swiftly opened his mouth, forcing his mind to cooperate and just let the fucking words spill out of his mouth with as much surety as he could muster.

God, what the fuck are you doing to him?

“I can’t think when I’m with you,” he said quietly, lips finding their way back to your wrist and he continued, “I just... I just feel. You make me feel things I haven’t felt before and never bothered feeling.”

Fuck, he hated sounding so pathetic, so sentimental and vulnerable. It was your fault, but he couldn’t - never wanted to - blame you.

He was a monster, but if being with you and making him feel human again was what it meant, then he would readily do so.

Only for you.

“I couldn’t tell you how you’re making me feel, so I felt that I should just show you,” Garou continued. “I just had to overlook and forget your experience, hadn’t I?” He laughed bitterly against your skin. “I really am a fucking monster.”

Somehow, you could feel that his last sentence hurt him more than it should.

The hand on the back of his neck slid down to his chest, your gaze softening when you felt his heart beat through the fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t,” you told him. “You’re never a monster to me.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest at your words. Was this how hope felt?

“I still hurt you,” he insisted, looking for ways to make you see him as such. “Despite knowing how you were treated-”

You pressed your wrist against his lips to gently cut him off. “We all make mistakes, Garou. I think- I think you made an honest one when you...”

Garou looked up at you incredulously. How could you remain so damn kind to him?

“And I forgive you. I really do.”

Garou stood up, removing himself from your touch and instantly missing it.

“How? Why?” he rasped, disbelief painted on his face. “I hurt you like that bastard-”

You softly smiled at him.

“Because I can see that you’re really sorry for what you did. That’s where you drew the line. A monster is never apologetic for hurting others. You’re not a monster, Garou, unlike him. You’re not a monster. Not to me.”

How could you be so fucking kind?

You slept soundly that night, feeling safe in Garou’s presence like the old times. You just wished that you could offer him the same kind of safety he gave you.

You did, unbeknownst to you. And Garou was glad that you were back in his arms again.

But good things came to an end too quickly for his liking, his encounter with his old master and the Monster Association taking him away from you. He almost knocked at death’s door a couple of times, his indomitable will and the thought of you waiting for him the only things that kept him clinging tenaciously to life.

No, he would not die. He needed to prove something to the world, didn’t he?

And so he stood, time and time again, enduring every hit and excruciating pain being thrown at him.

He had to live. For his ideals.

For you.

If there was one thing Garou was thankful for at this very moment, where he stood triumphantly before the beaten group of S-class heroes, it was that you weren’t a hero like them.

He was glad that you were a simple civilian, someone who wouldn’t see what had become of him right now.

A real monster.

The fearful looks the heroes were giving him felt so good, so damn blissful and he was sure that he could finally unite the world against the greatest adversary it would ever know.

But you would find out, you would see what he had become. But Garou was too far gone in his triumph, his humanity almost irretrievable from being the monster he wanted to be.

Perhaps it was a blessing when that bald hero beat him, destroyed what he aimed and fought for with the words Garou himself never wanted to admit.

When everyone was so hellbent on killing him but not the old geezer Bang, why the kid who kept on calling him oji-san stood up for him and told him that he deserved to live.

Your kind smile flashed in his mind.

And so, even after seeing the kid get pushed by that fucking A-class, rank 1, Garou fled.

It had been weeks since you last saw Garou, and you had never felt sadder and more alone in your life.

Had he not forgiven himself yet despite earning yours? For what he did?

“Thank you, [Name]. I’ll be back soon.”

Those were his last words to you before he left, and never had Garou broken any of his words to you.

Did he get beaten by a hero? Was he arrested by the Hero Association? Killed?

The last thought nearly made you faint.

You had fallen into a new routine since Garou’s disappearance (not dead, please don’t let him be dead): watch the news for any hero that might be hunted, stock up on more bandages and medicines, and look for Garou. You had plenty of time in your hands, after all, now that you took a break from being a volunteer.

Your search for him even led you to Silverfang’s dojo, if only to raise your hopes that the old hero had any idea where his ex-disciple might be. Too bad you had cold feet even before you could face Master Bang.

Your search led you out of the city before news of Garou’s defeat even reached your ears.

Another week went by without Garou making his presence known.

By now your fears have grown out of proportion, truly scared out of your wits that Garou really might have died. You had ended up scouring every dojo you could find in hopes of finding him, but you were met with no success.

Most nights you cried yourself to sleep again, this time out of fear that you would never see him again.

You were aware that you have developed feelings for Garou during his absence. You knew that it went beyond the care you initially felt when you still saw him as a friend.

Garou had saved you in more ways than one, and so perhaps it was inevitable that you would eventually fall for him.

But you had to be sure if what you were feeling was love, and you so badly wanted to see him to either confirm or deny how you felt.

You had just been in an abandoned dojo deep in the mountains, still feeling creeped out by that corpse sitting in the middle of the room. You left the place as quickly as you could when you heard someone approaching, not bothering to check who it might be. You just hoped that they would fare better than you after seeing the dead body inside.

The sun was still high up in the sky and you took the full advantage it offered. Leaving a mark on the trees you passed by so you would not get lost, you trudged deeper into the forest once you heard the faint roaring sound of a waterfall.

A huge smile of relief appeared on your face when you reached your destination. You quickly refilled your canteen of water and gratefully took in a few sips of the cold water, feeling instantly rejuvenated.

Something crunched a few steps away from you and you were quick to hide in the bushes, on high alert for any bears that might have wandered where you were. You peered through the leaves and sighed in relief when you saw that the coast remained clear.

Slowly you stood up, lifting a hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead.

“Oi.”

You froze, heart beating wildly in your chest when you heard someone spoke. Not out of fear, but of hope - you could recognize that voice anywhere.

And boy, was it a voice you terribly missed.

You turned to face the speaker and finally saw, for the first time in a long while, Garou, shirtless and dripping wet as he stood before you. He still looked the same since you last saw him, all rippling muscles and wild, wild hair, but a scar was now running down the length of his face.

Your vision blurred and you were crying before you knew it, burying your face in your hands as Garou swiftly pulled you in his arms. You could hear him shushing you gently, big, warm hands running up and down your back to calm you down.

You only cried harder.

“Where have you been? I was so worried! I thought-” you hiccuped, your arms now wrapping around him as best as you could, too. “I thought you were d-dead! Why didn’t you come back? You said you’ll come back!”

Garou was at a loss for words, clearly convinced that you wouldn’t look for him, much less find him. But here you were, wrapped in his arms and bawling your eyes out over him.

Was he important to you, too, just as much as you were to him?

“[Name].”

You stopped throwing words at him, sobbing into his chest when he called your name. Damn him, you missed everything about him! Even the way he spoke your name!

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be!” you yelled at him through your tears. “I was so scared, I thought I-I’d never see you again... Garou, what happened to you? Why didn’t you come back?”

“S’not that i don’t wanna,” he muttered, nose nuzzling your hair. God, he missed this. Missed holding you close, missed your scent, missed your warmth-

“I couldn’t,” Garou continued. “I was- [Name], I-”

This was the first time you heard him rattled, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t like the way that he was beginning to sound so frantic, so afraid all of a sudden, that you quickly stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his.

Garou stared at you with equally wide eyes as you quickly pulled away. He knew that what you did was no accident, that you fully intended it despite its abruptness. But, damn, the kiss - short as it was - felt so good and he was left wanting more.

However, he had learned his lessons, had learned to tame the hungry wolf after he was freed from his monsterization. And so slowly, gently, he pressed his forehead to yours and quietly asked for your permission.

“Can you do it again?”

Heat crept up your cheeks and spread down to your neck and up to the tips of your ears. You had waited for this moment where you could face him again, and this time you now had to decipher what you really felt for him.

Slowly, timidly, you pulled him down to your level and met his parted lips for a kiss.

Garou took in a shaky breath, a mix of relief and bliss raging through his veins. He had waited for this for too long. This was what he wanted, and he was now finally getting it - your lips, your warmth, the steady beat of your heart singing in time with his.

He knew then and there that what you were sharing was love, and he would be the biggest fool if he let this chance go, if he threw this away.

“Thank you for finding me,” Garou murmured against your lips, diving back in and savoring as much of your taste as he could before your lungs screamed for oxygen.

“‘Course I’d find you,” you told him, panting for air, your hands cupping his face and smiling when he planted a kiss on your neck. “You’re my hero, after all.”

And for the first time in forever, being called a hero felt right for him.

“[Name].”

“Garou.”

He lifted his head and looked at you, golden eyes shining with hope for the first time in a long while.

“Will you have me?”

The smile you gave him was so bright, so damn breathtaking and he wouldn’t ask for anything else when you gave him your answer.

“Forever.”

fin.

#garou x reader #garou the hero hunter #garou the human monster #opm x reader #one punch man #one punch man season 2

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sheps-shepherd · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Dizzying Dynamics

Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey; Mikleo & Sorey

Rating: T (for non-graphic mentions of death/dying)

Written for SorMik Week 2020 Day 1: Waxing Crescent - Declaration; Commitment / Rigel - Benevolence; Happiness

*Reposted because Tumblr messed up my formatting so badly I just decided to redo it all.

A/N: This is my first time doing any kind of fandom week in three years so of course all the plans I had for it fell through, hence why this is being posted at the very last minute of the first day. I'm not the happiest with how this came out but it's fluffy and what more can any of us ask for.

All of my works for SorMik Week 2020 will take place in this same AU, which has its own story that I wanted to post before these and still haven't finished. It's a BBC Merlin AU, and all you really need to know is this: magic is banned in this world, Mikleo was born with magic, and Sorey is the sunshine prince we all love and deserve. Other necessary world-building happens within each work itself.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

Mikleo was getting used to life in Camlann. Slowly but surely.

When his mother had first told him about the arrangements she’d made for him to come live in the capitol, he’d expected to spend a majority of his time with the grandfather he barely remembered in the medical wing of the castle, studying the basics of being a physician by day and honing his magic under the cover of night. He’d expected to spend his days reading, picking herbs, and learning how to properly make various medicines and remedies. Which was okay with him; Mikleo liked to learn, and these types of things were good to learn, and when he went home to Elysia maybe he could put it to use and be more than just the quiet village boy with the magical secret he couldn’t tell anybody.

As it turned out, living in Camlann was nothing like that. Mikleo honestly should have known better, especially when he ended his first week by saving the crown prince’s life and agreeing to take up the mantle as his manservant.

“Which is a completely glorified title, by the way,” Sorey had told him, on his first official day with his new title, when Sorey had come to get him before he could start worrying about what he was meant to do. “All the things you’re technically supposed to be doing, I’m capable of doing myself. And I don’t mind doing them either. That’s why I always told Arthur I never needed one.”

“What am I supposed to be doing then?” Mikleo had asked, and Sorey had smiled at him like that was the funniest question he’d ever been asked.

“Stopping wannabe assassins from killing me, apparently,” he’d responded, in a tone that was definitely way too bright and cheerful for the words they’d been paired with. Mikleo had found out right then and there - Sorey Collbrande-Crowe was fearlessly and unapologetically optimistic.

If Mikleo was being honest, it was rather refreshing to be around someone like that.

He spent most of his time with Sorey after that first week. When Sorey was in meetings or off wherever his princely duties took him, Mikleo was out doing all the things he originally expected to be doing. The times in between were spent wandering the castle and getting into absolutely everything they could find.

They spread out maps across the large table in the drawing room. They snuck cooling pies off the windowsills in the kitchens. They read all kinds of things in the library: history books to fables and fairytales to preserved journals. But Mikleo’s favorite times were the nights they holed up in Sorey’s room, with books or treats or stories to share.

Despite the odd circumstances that got them to this point, they became friends. Genuine friends. The prince-and-technically-servant dynamic didn’t exist.

But the prince-and-secret-sorcerer one certainly did. To Mikleo, at least. The magic in his blood always seemed harder to ignore whenever he was in Sorey’s presence, a glaring reminder of the impassable space that stretched between them.

He was lying next to Sorey in the prince’s bed, propped up on pillows with one of the larger history books opened between them, his arm pressed warmly against Sorey’s when the thought hit him - that maybe he was in way too deep, and it had only been a few months.

Sorey was still the crown prince. Artorius was still his father who hated all things magic. Mikleo had long since given up his avoid the royal family at all costs plan, but falling asleep in the prince’s bed was definitely too far. Risky things like that would put him on the king’s radar, and if Artorius found out- If Sorey found out-

But we’re already here, Mikleo considered, one afternoon spent watching Sorey scribble away, annotating tomes in the library. This will just be where we stop. No farther. No problems. There was no reason he and Sorey couldn’t be friends; Mikleo just had to tread a little more carefully moving forward. Simple. Even his magic seemed satisfied with that plan, glowing in his chest when Sorey peeked up from his work and smiled at him, and Mikleo smiled back.

And then the second assassination attempt had happened. And Mikleo had saved Sorey again. And then Sorey had saved Mikleo. And Mikleo spent the days recovering from being poisoned by staring up at his bedroom ceiling and wondering how the hell he ended up here.

Some destiny this turned out to be.

“Hello? Anybody home in there?”

Mikleo blinked his reverie away, turning his head to see Sorey standing there, dressed to the nines in his street clothes, head cocked with a curious look on his face. He beamed when Mikleo focused in on him.

“There you are! You spaced out on me.”

“Oh.” Mikleo gave his head a shake, as if clearing the last of the thoughts away. “Sorry about that.”

“Go somewhere good?” Sorey asked, nudging Mikleo over a step so they were back on the cobblestone road. Mikleo hadn’t even noticed he’d pulled them off. “Or is this a side effect of poison recovery that you didn’t tell me about?”

“Sorey, I’m fine. Just a little tired. Stop blaming everything on my recovery.”

“Just checking,” Sorey sang before taking a bite out of his apple - which him grabbing from the kitchen as they left had sparked their usual argument of: “That’s not breakfast.” “It totally counts as breakfast.”

Sorey was impossible, in the most endearing way.

“But,” the prince continued after swallowing his bite, “if you are fine, that means you shouldn’t have any problem making good on our deal today. Sure you don’t want to change your answer?”

Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do with your day then talk about poison?”

“Nope!” Sorey grinned around another crunch of his apple. “Already checked with Arthur. He actually thinks it’s a great idea that I do some research about this kind of stuff.”

“It is a good idea,” Mikleo agreed. “You were bound to have one sooner or later.”

“You wound me, Mikleo.” Sorey clutched at his shirt, and Mikleo rolled his eyes again at his dramatics.

Impossibly endearing. And maybe the slightest bit mortifying, too.

“I’d guess most people wouldn’t be so excited to research different kinds of poisons,” Mikleo mused as they stepped off the castle road and headed into the Lower Town. They fell in step beside each other, their arms brushing as they walked, assuring they didn’t lose each other in the morning rush of townspeople. “A bit morbid, don’t you think?”

Sorey shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m not like most people.” He gave Mikleo a cheeky grin. “What’s your excuse, huh?”

I’m not like most people, either.

“Gramps doesn’t like to leave things half-done,” Mikleo said aloud. “It’s something I need to know as a physician.”

“But shouldn’t it be something I need to know as the you-know-what? Why isn’t that something Arthur had me studying already?”

“That’s what physicians are for.” Mikleo was quiet for a moment, then carefully bumped his shoulder against the other’s. “That’s what I’m for. I have to be doing something as your manservant.”

Sorey chuckled, but the light in his eyes was dimmed as he looked over. “I know,” he said softly, and Mikleo could just barely hear him over the dull roar of people. “But you got hurt because I didn’t know better, and I’m not okay with that.”

“Sorey, you saved me-“

“You wouldn’t have needed saving if I had known in the first place.”

“You are not the reason I was poisoned,” Mikleo insisted. “The maid who put the poison in your drink is the reason.” He crossed his arms. “And again, you saved me by going out and getting what Gramps needed to make the antidote. So we’re both still here and we’re both fine. We’re even.”

“Are not.” Sorey chewed another bite of apple. “We’re two-to-one. Or have you forgotten about saving my life when we first met?”

Mikleo rolled his eyes again, but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Of course not.” But as far as Mikleo was concerned, that was a debt Sorey had already paid back in full.

He didn’t admit it out loud, but Sorey must have read something in his expression, because he smiled and gave Mikleo a nudge of his own.

“Guess we’re just gonna have to keep saving each other and see where we end up, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mikleo murmured. “I guess so.”

Sorey suddenly wrapped his arm around Mikleo’s shoulders and tugged him into his side. He blinked as he found himself pressed against the prince’s chest, his hand coming up to steady himself so he wouldn’t completely crash into the other. His hand landed at the center of Sorey’s chest, right where he had grasped it a moment ago.

He tipped his head back, knowing his face was probably bright red but also ready to demand just what Sorey thought he was doing. Then the group of children came hurtling by, practically trampling over one another as they raced down the cobble, calling out hello’s to Sorey as they ran along.

“Be careful, guys!” Sorey called back. “Watch where you’re going! Don’t run anybody over, I can’t save ‘em all!”

The children laughed but didn’t show any signs of slowing down. The little boy bringing up the rear of the group bounded past them.

“I got them, Sorey!” he exclaimed. “Don’t worry!”

“Thanks, Videl. I’m counting on you.” Sorey tossed his half-eaten apple at the boy, who caught it gleefully. “Say hi to your mom for me, yeah?”

“Okay! Bye, Sorey!” Videl took a large bite of the apple and turned around to chase after his friends.

It wasn’t until Sorey was pulling away that Mikleo realized he hadn’t even thought about trying to pull away himself, which he certainly could have done once the crowd of children had passed. The realization made his face grow even warmer. Sorey’s hand staying between his shoulder blades definitely didn’t help.

“You good?” Sorey asked, taking a half-step forward to see Mikleo’s face. “Still have all your toes?”

“Ah.” Mikleo cleared his throat. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

Sorey studied him thoughtfully. The sun was behind him in the sky, silhouetting his messy hair and casting odd shadows across his face, but Mikleo could make out smears of pink across the apples of his cheeks from the heat. He hoped Sorey chalked the redness on his own face up to that, and not to poison recovery or other things.

The beaming grin that broke out across Sorey’s face surprised him. But really, he shouldn’t have expected otherwise.

“I believe that evens our score then,” the prince chirped. “Two for you and two for me.”

“Evens our-?” Mikleo sputtered petulantly. “You did not save my life from a group of children.”

“And have you ever been bowled over by a bunch of kids on the run before? Because trust me, Mikleo, it is not fun.”

“Why am I not surprised you got yourself into something like that?”

“Hey, be nice about it! I had bruises for weeks!”

They bickered back and forth as they headed down the road again, continuing their walk through the town. There were no more clusters of rambunctious children trying to barrel through them, but Sorey still kept his hand on Mikleo’s upper back, fingers hooked comfortably around his shoulder. And Mikleo let him, telling himself it was because their playful banter was distracting him and nothing more. The magic fizzling beneath his skin made sure to let him know he wasn’t fooling anyone.

Living in Camlann was absolutely nothing like Mikleo had expected it to be.

But he was in way too deep to do anything about it now, so he might as well enjoy it.

#talesoffanfic #sormikweek2020 #sormik #sorey #mikleo #merlin au

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atissi · 5 years ago

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What advice would you give someone who wants to play Pathologic but is also terrified of screwing up really badly because I've played just enough of it to feel like there's no way I can succeed without looking stuff up but I don't want to do that! Just basic tips and/or reassurances if you have any?

Updated: Feb. 27 2021 (since I've finished and am replaying P2)

See, the thing about Pathologic is that it’s not possible to “succeed” like you do in other video games. There’s no happy ending for everyone. In the same sense, you can’t really fail. The game accommodates a wide variety of deaths and mistakes—even in Pathologic Classic HD, you can get a character's ending if you hoard enough medicine by the end of the 12 days, no matter how many people get sick or die. In Pathologic 2, everyone can die, but you’ll still be able to get an ending. Even some of the "bad" endings are fun in their own right. Sometimes, the game will reward you with more content because you failed in the first place.

All that being said, I totally relate to your fears. I’ll start by talking about Pathologic 2 first, since I’m more familiar with it. Then there will be some tips on playing Pathologic Classic HD.

Pathologic 2 is incredibly punishing, both emotionally and mechanically. I’ve seen people adapt to this through 3 different playstyles. I’ll rank them in terms of “least close to the intended gaming experience” to “most close”.

1. Just cheat.

“wrt cheating, as a notorious cheater, id recommend trying to do the game as legitimately as possible regardless! if there are some aspects that you absolutely do not vibe with, even with reduced difficulty (for me that's hunger mechanics), i would say that you can load in items to mitigate this aspect. and, tying in with the second point, if you complete a run this way you can always go back and try it legitimately since you've (sort of) gotten an understanding of the mechanic.” - Onion

If you have really bad anxiety, or just dont have the time available to do the other playstyles, cheating is a way to engage with Pathologic 2′s excellent story. Fiddling with the difficulty controls is allowed. Spawning in endless food for yourself is possible. I can even get you in touch with someone who uses cheat codes in the game regularly to get game assets. If changing the game is what it takes for you to get through it, I think it’s better than nothing. But I’d personally at least encourage you to try an Imago playthrough first. Decide if it’s too difficult for you after that. And again: Pathologic 2 is constantly trying to trip you up. It’s meant to be difficult. Sometimes you’ll fail and the game won’t tell you if you could have prevented it. Just keep going. But like Onion said, cheating works as a supplement.

2. Replay, replay, and replay, until you get it right.

“You can always replay. You have more time than they do. Also save states are your friend.” - Alex

“reload as much as possible, do NOT look things up. your first playthru WILL be bad, and thats good!!! experience it fully yourself first. [and] “reload as much as possible” meaning like: [it] isnt a crime, you can do it as many times as possible. but dont get stressed about doing everything perfectly. its an experience!!!” - Zee

There’s no penalty for using your save states. If you get stuck in a death loop, go back as far as you need to in order to get things right. Hopefully this means starting a day over and using your time more effectively. Personally, I got to Day 7 before realizing I had to restart from Day 1, because I was doing that badly. Trust me, if you’ve gotten one miracle cure and 10 bottles of water by then, you’ll be doing better than I was. My friend Bee had trouble too, and took 92 hours to finish their first playthrough. A replay playstyle takes a LOT of time. But Pathologic 2 is so rich in content that replaying isn’t even as annoying as it could be. And this is also the best way to complete as many quests and save as many people as you want. Whenever you’re scared, just remember: you can always go back on your choices! (Other than the theatre’s death penalties. But nothing can help you with those.)

3. Just go through it.

Again. You’re not supposed to succeed in Pathologic. In the words of the lead translator Kevin Snow, “…I know [Pathologic 2’s] script and this is different from other games: there’s so much story locked behind failure and death. You’ll die, and you can’t save everyone. That doesn’t gate you from story; it gives you more. Resist, survive, but continue.” It’s only when you’re suffering that you experience the story so viscerally. That’s when the choices mean something. Sacrificing your own health or the health of others–saving tinctures for yourself, breaking into houses, killing people, choosing not to help people because you just don’t have time–these are impactful because you’re experiencing the mechanical repercussions of your actions. You are not a removed arbiter of the Town’s suffering. Everyone in Pathologic is having the worst 12 days of their life, and you’re dying right alongside them. Spoilers for Day 4, but I don’t think visiting the Rod and seeing the Tragedians would have affected me so deeply if I wasn’t actively starving for the entire sequence. It served as a reminder that I wasn’t the only one in pain; it was heart-breaking and heart-warming. Which I think is Pathologic at its core.

Try to see your failures in the game as another form of success. You’re experiencing the game as it’s meant to be played. And when you feel bad about all the people you’ve failed, remember that this is all a play. The game knows it’s artificial. You can replay the game after you finish–and feel free to use cheats or lowered difficulties on a replay–in order to get everything right. Your mistakes aren’t permanent! But on a first playthrough, try to tough through the hardships. You’ll have a more fulfilling time.

Other tips

You can use these 3 playstyles in combination if you need to. I let myself die when I feel like I deserved the punishment, or reload when I feel like I don’t. Bee managed to finish Day 11 by lowering the game difficulty in the final stretch. Just approximate the intended gaming experience as much as you can.

As for gameplay guides, I don’t think anyone I’ve met recommends it (at least for Pathologic 2). The game does interesting things with when and where it reveals information to you, often in ways that are deliberately inconveniencing. You want to experience that on your own. I also think Pathologic 2 is relatively good at telegraphing mechanics or quests. compared to Patho Classic. That said, I do have tips that I wish I knew before playing:

Sprint everywhere. I know the town is beautiful. But you’re on a hell of a time crunch. If you finish your quests early you can forage or trade for more resources, or just bottom out your exhaustion bar. Sprinting does not make your exhaustion go up faster, and water is plentiful in the first few days. Just do it! Save your own time!

Save a lot. Even if you’re not gonna die on your way in and out of the Broken Heart, this game is chock-full of choices, down to the resource management. If you waste a swig of twyrine, you’ll want a good save point to reload at. You can load any save point in your timeline, so save as often as you want. Keep track of where clocks are on the map--the game tags these in the building descriptions. (For that matter, keep track of where beds are. I didn’t realize I could sleep at Vlad Sr.’s place, which made me waste SO much time travelling between the Shelter and the Lair.)

Learn the trading economy. Everyone holds items at different values. Even the kids value certain nuts over others. There are also some interesting conversion rates between items, like peanuts to soap to pemmican. Make the most of the items you’re bartering. And for that matter, try to build up a cache of items valuable to little girls, in case you find one with a schmowder. The kid’s caches are valuable for trading too: twyrine can show you the locations.

This is also a good spoiler-free guide to Pathologic 2′s mechanics.

For Pathologic Classic HD, I haven’t personally played it, but I’m under the impression that it’s easier than Pathologic 2 because there are less character perma-deaths and no death penalties. The advice about reloading still applies. Here’s what Ally says:

“id recommend using a spoiler free guide (Bachelor, Haruspex, and Changeling guides) but other than that read the diary and letters carefully and try to keep track of npcs that could be affiliated with quests. also! some quests have different options for endings so there could be multiple ways to complete them. stock up on food on the earlier days, and after the inquisitor arrives because the prices drop. try to stealth kill with melee weapons when you can, and also reserve your bullets. …also make sure to trade with the children a lot! hold onto objects like the hooks and flowers [to get schmowders. Like I said before, to win the game you only need enough cures to heal the Bound.] …another tip is to keep a pen and paper around to take notes. like when i got the tincture recipes instead of keeping them in my inventory i just wrote them down.”

And that’s it! If you need specific advice or clarification, feel free to DM me! I love talking about this game. I can also get you in touch with anyone mentioned in this post (except Kevin Snow LMAO). Pathologic has an amazing story and I want everyone to experience it!!!

#inbox #beepbeep.txt #pathologic

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yeoldontknow · 5 years ago

Text

Totem

Author’s Note: this story is entirely an act of fiction. it contains strong, mature themes and features subjects which may be triggering or uncomfortable to read. these themes include, but not limited to: themes of abduction, references to ptsd, extreme trauma, and paranormal activity. please take these warnings seriously and do not read if any make you uncomfortable. | this story is written as a script, rather than a traditional prose fanfiction. even though its unusual, i still hope you enjoy it <3 happy spooptober! Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (oc; female) Genre: horror; suspense; thriller; haunted house au; light romance; au Summary: What follows is an account of YouTube vloggers Euripet3s1 and theJungProject. This is a report of the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok. Rating: M Warning: themes of abduction/ghostly possession; references to ptsd; extreme trauma; paranormal activity; explicit language; non-explicit nudity; graphic situations Word Count: 5.5K

Towards the end of my research for my Ph.D, I became fascinated by what has recently been cited as the "second wave" of realism films in production, thanks, in part, to the advent of creative social websites like YouTube and Vimeo. The introduction of reality and scripted reality television, alongside its relatively unilateral conjunction with the internet, sparked a new direction in filmmaking that prided itself on low budgets and the autonomy of immediate authorship.

Where Vimeo encouraged, and favoured, well produced filmmaking and art house developments from a range of semi-professionals to professionals, YouTube saw a strong dynamic shift in what eventually was defined as vlogging. Video series like Marble Hornets, Fewdio, and curiously chilling uploads by users such as EverymanHYBRID became cult canon amongst internet users. Instead of humour posts, video game plays, and make-up tutorials, users sought creative expression in 'noise aesthetics' and the horror genre.

On April 30, 2010, YouTube user Euripet3s1 (full name: Y/F/N Y/L/N) uploaded a video entitled #184-190 to her channel of 12,413 subscribers. It would be the final upload she would make before deactivating the account three weeks later, eventually removing herself from social media altogether. The video itself is an account of her trip to England to visit fellow YouTube vlogger and boyfriend theJungProject (full name: Jung Hoseok), who was residing in the country while finishing his degree, depicted through seven pieces of footage taken from video cameras and mobile phones.

Euripet3s1's channel was a comedy and lifestyle channel, in which she would present everyday information in a humorous way. Therefore, the unsettling events in the final video left both fans and casual viewers stunned. Avid fans of the Marble Hornets series were the first to draw attention to the video, before it went viral on hundreds of forums, including Reddit and BuzzFeed. When the users’ account was deactivated, the video was removed from the website only to resurface two months later by user TwerK (full name: Kim Taehyung). There are only two videos on TwerK's channel: #184-190 and Help Explain This.

Help Explain This was filmed in August 2011 and is the last surviving footage of Jung Hoseok.

Numerous attempts at paranormal investigations have occurred in the last two years with no results. Psychics have been brought to every location depicted, though their efforts have been futile. The pocket watch in the film has been defined, by paranormal researcher David Kelwayne, as a totem. To quote David:

"A totem is an item left behind by the dead which they had ascribed deep personal meaning or symbolism during their life. To come into contact with a totem is to contact the spirit attached to it, even if said contact is relatively erroneous; to become connected to the totem is to become connected with the spirit, often permanently" (Seeking Answers: Beginner's Guide To The Paranormal, 54)

This report exists only to present the video as it was found, in its untouched manner, for archival and historical purposes. The research to be found on the events, people, and locations involved has lead many in vast circles and down endless rabbit holes. It is my hope that the academic world will provide its resources for the many seeking answers about what truly happened to Jung Hoseok during that week in April.

Editor’s note: Heretofore, the speakers will be quoted using their first initials rather than their usernames.

#184

Duration: 1:46

[Exterior. Night-vision mid-close up of dirt path. Leaves cover the ground and crunch audibly. Feet remain in view as two persons walk the path in brisk, even steps. A low male voice is heard, his accent distinctly Korean. ]

H: Are you filming, Y/N?

[A second voice speaks, female. She is American]

Y/N: I have no idea. Your camera is weird.

H: It's no different from any American camera. It's a SONY. Has the green dot gone on?

Y/N: Well, it's different in the dark. Yeah, it has.

H: Then it's filming. Point it at your face, dummy.

[Camera is lifted and spun towards the holder's face, the night vision on the camera giving her a blue glow. She is young, no more than 24. The fringe of her hair gets caught in her eyes, trapped there by the hood of her sweater. She smiles brightly, waving at the camera momentarily.]

Y/N: And so we meet again! Today I am joined by theJungProject -

[camera pans left. A young man, also no more than 24, is walking briskly with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He squints at the light of the camera and pulls a face by sticking out his tongue]

- say hi, Hobi.

H: [nods once] Hello, Tiddy Harem.

Y/N [sighing]: Must you call them that?

H: [shaking black hair out of his eyes; he sniffs, not looking at the camera] You have thirteen thousand subscribers and 12,950 of them are men. Yeah, I'd say it's a harem.

Y/N: [snorting] I do not have thirteen thousand. And that's an insult to my fifty female subscribers.

H: You know I’m playing. [sniffs] You have fantastic tits, though.

Y/N: You’re literally disgusting. [turns camera back to her face] So, as you all remember I landed last night in Heathrow, after which I got embarrassingly drunk on incredible beer. We spent most of the day being hungover before getting on a train from - what station was it?

H: [in background] Liverpool Street.

Y/N: Right, yeah. We got a train from there to here, [pulls camera back to wave hand, denoting surrounding location] which is apparently Suffolk…specifically Sudbury. We had a grand idea to go to the Borley Rectory because I'm in England and apparently that means it's okay for Hobi to go on a midnight ghost hunt.

H: I'm not ghost hunting, I'm just…exploring.

Y/N: [faces camera; raises one eyebrow]

[Camera turns off]

~~~

#185

Duration: 7:08

[Interior; night. Camera pans from left to right as Y/N breathes heavily. The windows of the rectory are shattered. Leaves scatter the concrete floor. What little furniture existing within the house has been tattered and worn over time, the sheen of its once extraordinary grandeur decayed with dust and time. Y/N walks to her right, into a small dining area. The camera pans over a wooden table that is badly scratched, three long distinct marks marring the mahogany. A hand comes into view, Y/N’s, as she runs her fingers over the marks. The camera pans up and to the left, showing cabinets that are missing their drawers. She leaves the room, slowly walking towards the foyer. A mirror hangs on the wall, the light reflecting off the glass into the lens. She waves.]

H: [distantly; calling] Baby, come up here.

[Y/N head turns right, facing the direction of Hoseok’s voice. The camera turns right as she walks straight back toward a carpeted staircase. Slowly, she ascends it, her footsteps quiet and muffled by both the camera and the foliage. She sniffles. As she approaches the landing, a painting of a pasture comes into view. It is crooked. When she reaches the landing, the camera moves from right to left. There are three bedrooms]

Y/N: [loud whisper] Where are you?

H: [voice from left] In here.

[Camera passes through a doorway. Long shot of Hoseok at chest of drawers to the left. There is an empty bed on the right side of the room, the mattress bare and torn. The video pixelates for approximately two seconds, correcting itself. The windows of the bedroom are in tact, though the carpet has been ripped up from the floor in a seemingly random pattern. Y/N walks to where Hoseok is standing. Atop the chest are several items: a broken hairbrush, a small empty picture frame, an empty ring box and a pocket watch. Y/N zooms in on the pocket watch. Hoseok picks it up, his grip indelicate. Y/N turns the camera, and zooms out to a medium close up of Hoseok’s face as he inspects it]

H: [whispers] This rectory had hundreds of residents before it was condemned. I wonder whose this was.

Y/N: [also in a whisper] Hobi, this place was destroyed by a fire in 1939. Isn't it weird to you that there's still…..things, objects…belongings in here? Nothing seems terribly ruined.

[Pause. Hoseok does not reply. Y/N returns the subject to the pocket watch, appeasing him by maintaining focus on the object though her discomfort is evident.] It looks really old. Can't be from any time after 1920, look at the design. Early surrealist or something.

H: [humming in interest] How do you know that?

Y/N: I’m taking art history for my electives. I’m just saying it looks like something I’ve seen.

[The camera zooms back on to the pocket watch in Hoseok’s hand. There is a patch of dirt along the rim of the cover, but an intricate design of intertwined clock hands and numbers is distinct.]

H: This is mental. You know the more you look at it, the more it resembles a kind of face. Like from a masquerade.

[Long pause]

Y/N: I don't see it. Where are you looking?

[Hoseok’s thumb comes into view. It presses the button on the side to open the watch. The cover pops open with a soft click, revealing an elegant Victorian clock face.]

H: Too much to ask for it to be working, isn't it. [laughs]

Y/N: Probably needs to be wound.

[Hoseok closes the pocket watch.]

[Cut. Interior. Y/N thuds down the stairs after Hoseok, hands clasped and both laughing They come to a stop in the parlor. Hoseok inspects bookshelves, looking for something or nothing, running his fingers over the dusted wood. Y/N turns the camera away and zooms in on a picture frame. It is badly singed. The image of a woman, who looks almost sad, is barely discernible.]

Y/N: [muttering] Something about this……isn't……

[The sound of piano notes echo loudly through the room. Y/N screams loudly, swears, and is visibly shaken as she turns toward the noise. Hoseok sits at a piano by the back of the room, playing Erik Satie's "Gnossienne No. 1." He is chuckling. Y/N approaches him.]

Y/N: There's a fucking piano?

H: [plays uninterrupted] Scare you, did I?

Y/N: Hobi, is there anything about this that's ok? You said this place was destroyed by a fire and has been abandoned. Logic this out for me: why would there be a piano in a burned down house? Wouldn't the city have this cleared out?

[Hoseok shrugs]

Y/N: I think we should go.

H: Don't want to spend the night here? We haven't seen anything yet.

Y/N: I paid £35 for a train ticket to this hell. I'll cut my losses and say we’ve seen plenty enough, okay?

H: [expression softening, he stops playing. The silence is deafening.] Okay, baby, we can go.

[Cut. Exterior. Y/N and Hoseok walking along a residential sidewalk. Hoseok is holding the camera this time, pointed at Y/N in a long shot. Night vision is switched off, faces now illuminated by street lamps they pass. He whistles seductively.]

H: [whispering] Don’t tell anyone until she watches this guys...but I think I’m in love with her. [He turns the camera to face him. The camera zooms out to fit his face.] I mean it. [He looks over the camera to her.] I love her.

Y/N: [distant, off camera] What are you whining about back there?

H: [laughing, he catches up with Y/N and aims the camera at her profile] Say what you said again.

Y/N: [biting her cheek, but smiling nonetheless] I said you're a twunt.

H: Look at that! Y/N has spent 30 hours in this country and is already adopting its language.

Y/N: Yeah, well you are. Tell the audience what you did.

H: [turns the camera to his face and holds it out. His leather jacket is unzipped, revealing A Horrors band-tee shirt] I've been a naughty boy. [His other hand reaches into his pocket. He pulls out the pocket watch] Y/N’s upset with me because I wanted a souvenir.

Y/N: It's not yours, Hoseok.

H: [turns his face to Y/N, camera still aimed at himself. He puts the watch back in his pocket] It's technically not anyone's. Besides, this is one thing we could at least fix.

[Camera turns off]

#186

Duration: 2:01

[Interior. Hotel bedroom. Y/N sits at the desk provided, laptop open as she uploads footage from the video camera onto her computer. Her back is to the camera. The pocket watch twirls in front of the screen. Hoseok hums. The camera flips, revealing his face. It is clear he is filming on his iPhone. He starts to mouth lyrics to "Don't Stop Me Now," which is playing in the background. He flips the camera back to the watch.]

Y/N: [turns her head quickly over shoulder] Holy shit, come look at this.

[Hoseok drops the pocket watch and hoists himself off the sofa. He is wearing plaid flannel pants. He approaches the desk, leaning against the back of Y/N’s chair and extending his arm as he films.]

H: [kissing Y/N’s head off camera, voice muffled] What is it?

Y/N: You tell me. [looks back at Hoseok, anxious]

[Y/N has Final Cut open. She presses play on footage taken earlier in the evening. She has selected footage from when he ascended the stairs and entered the master bedroom. It plays without sound.]

H: What am I looking for….I don't…

Y/N: [quietly] Just wait.

[The footage shows the camera panning through the room. As it comes to the bed, the footage warps, revealing a figure wearing black sitting on the mattress. It turns to look at the camera. It is wearing a white mask. The footage warps again. The figure is gone]

H: [reels back] What the fuck is that?! Did you put that in there?

Y/N: [turns to look at Hoseok] No. How would I do that?

H: [words unsteady] I don't know, you're the film wizard. I still use iMovie. Maybe you have clever special effects or something.

Y/N: I can assure you that I have no idea how to superimpose an image that clear onto digital footage. I took one semester of New Media, I'm hardly advanced.

H: How did you not see it when you were filming?

Y/N: I don't know, the camera went all pixelated when I was filming but I just thought the battery was running low or something.

H: You better not be having me off.

Y/N: [brow furrowed, disbelieving] What does that sentence even mean?

H: Is this punishment for taking the pocket watch?

Y/N: [pursing her lips briefly before she speaks] I'm really not that upset about the pocket watch. Why would I do that?

H: Whatever. Let's just go to bed and forget about it. I don’t want this to turn into a fight.

Y/N: Fine by me.

[Video ends]

~~~

#187

Duration: 0:53

[Interior. Mid-Day. Close up of Y/N’s face. She stares at something out of view. Behind her, the scenery has changed. Band posters line the green wall, gig tickets and setlists framed next to them. This is what many assume is Hoseok’s bedroom.]

Y/N: [whispers] He's been like this all morning. I have no idea what the hell is going on. He was fine yesterday when we got back from Borley. Fine when we went to lunch, fine when we went to The Borderline for the Lescop gig. Now, he won't stop staring at that goddamn pocket watch. Look.

[The camera is flipped, again the film is from an iPhone. Hoseok sits shirtless on the bed, hickeys dotting his neck and collarbone, the pocket watch in his left hand. He stares almost impassively at it.]

Y/N: [loudly] Hobi.

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [louder] Hoseok, what the fuck are you doing?

[Hoseok does not respond]

Y/N: [mutters quietly] Jesus Christ.

[The camera tilts and wobbles, tipping down for a moment as Y/N bends to pick something up. A shoe is thrown in frame and lands on the bed right next to Hoseok. Hoseok lifts his head, dropping the watch. He smiles]

H: Want breakfast, baby?

Y/N: [long pause; quiet breathing] Uh huh.

[video ends]

~~~~

#188

Duration: 3:21

[Exterior. Mid-Day. Extreme long shot of Hoseok as he stands in front of a wooden sign that says Boxer's Lake. From the pockets of his leather jacket he pulls the pocket watch]

H: [looking over his shoulder; calls] You sure this is a good idea.

Y/N: [loudly; voice garbled by wind into microphone] You should have seen yourself, Hobi. It's gotta be the watch and I don’t want to go back there to return it.

[Hoseok reels back and throws the watch into the lake. He stares after it, shoulders drooped and jaw tense]

[Cut. Interior of a car. Hoseok is driving. Y/N points the camera at his face.]

Y/N: How do you feel?

H: Like my soul has been ripped from my chest.

[Pauses. Looks at Y/N]

H: [bursts into laughter] Chill out, baby. I feel fine.

Y/N: [laughs weakly]

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s kitchen. Y/N films as Hoseok brews tea.]

H: You want any, love?

Y/N: Nah, water is fine.

H: [looks up at camera] Are you going to film everything?

Y/N: We have an interested audience. Need to keep them satisfied. And besides, I’m only here for a week. I want to remember everything with you.

H: [begins to pull off shirt, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.]

Y/N: [laughter] Don’t start with that!

H: [straightens and flattens shirt] You said satisfied! Y/N: [still laughing] Yeah, well, that’s just for me and I’d like to keep it that way.

[Hoseok bites his lip, happy, and walks to a cabinet to the left. He makes to open it, but his attention is brought to something on the counter beneath it. He pauses. His hand slowly drops from the knob of the cabinet. The colour drains from his face]

Y/N: What?

[Hoseok brings his eyes to the camera, lips parted. He is visibly disturbed. He lifts his right hand. He holds up the pocket watch. Y/N’s breath becomes heavy and labored]

H: [voice small] What the fuck.

[Camera shuts off]

~~~

#189

Duration: 8:32

[Interior. Mid-Day. Hoseok’s car, again. Y/N holds the camera as Hoseok drives, lens pointed out the windshield]

Y/N: Slow down, Hobi.

H: [voice hollow] No. The fucking watch is ticking…and existing. How is any of what just happened possible?

Y/N: I don't know, I don't know.

H: This is fucking twisted.

Y/N: What are you going to do?

H: Leave it in a field? Pawn it off? Whatever, as long as it's far away from me.

Y/N: Why not burn it?

H: Any fire I make wouldn't get the metal hot enough.

Y/N: Just don't get reckless. [Pleading] Please, baby?

[Cut. Interior. A Pawnshop. The camera pans along a shelf. Various objects come into focus. A door opens and an older man comes into view from the back of the store. To the left of the frame, Hoseok walks over and introduces himself]

H: Hi. Uhm, I'm Hoseok. I need to sell a pocket watch?

[The store clerk looks from Hoseok to Y/N]

Clerk: Get your mate to turn the camera off and then we can do business.

[Cut. Interior. Hoseok’s car. Y/N has rested the camera on the dashboard, pointed at the passing scenery]

H: WOOOO! £650 for a shitty old watch!!

Y/N: I think the fact that it was still working was what sold him.

H: Who knows how long it will work for. We practically robbed him.

Y/N: You practically robbed him. I almost got thrown out for having a camera.

H: Eh. He was probably drunk from boredom. I would be, too, if I had to sit in silence eight hours a day.

[Cut. Interior. Night. Hoseok’s kitchen. Hoseok presses play on his answering machine as he takes off his coat. Y/N sits at a chair at the kitchen table and zooms in on a Sainsbury's frozen dinner.]

Y/N: Mmmmmm.

[In the background, a voice is heard on the answering machine.]

Recorded Voice: Mr. Jung. It's Geoff. You sold me a watch not two hours ago. I’d like to make it clear I don't appreciate being fucked with. [Y/N brings the camera around, landing on Hoseok who is paused at his refrigerator staring at the machine, frowning.] I get enough shit in my town, and I certainly don't need non-locals breezing through and pulling pranks. I'm giving you twenty-four hours to return the watch or my money to the store. If you don't, I'm calling the cops and we can settle this with legal action. [Machine beeps]

[Hoseok remains paused at the refrigerator - frozen. He begins to visibly tense and Y/N gets up from the kitchen table. She approaches him slowly, before Hoseok slams the refrigerator door shut and rushes into the living room]

Y/N: [shouts] Hoseok!

H: [yells] Where the fuck is it? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?

[Y/N enters the living room and turns right. Hoseok is standing in front of his mantle, hitting his chest with the flat of his palms. He stares at the ceiling and screams]

H: [still yelling] YOU CAN HAVE YOUR FUCKING WATCH BACK, I DON'T WANT IT.

Y/N: [yelling over Hoseok] HOSEOK, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE.

H: [looks at Y/N] Of course there is! How else would any of this be happening? [Turns abruptly and heads down the hallway. He disappears into his room.

Y/N: Fuck’s sake.

[Y/N follows and enters Hoseok’s room. Hoseok is pulling books out of shelves. He abandons that project and quickly goes to his bed, where he up-turns his mattress]

H: [yelling again] WHERE IS IT, HUH?

Y/N: Hoseok, calm the hell down!

[Hoseok turns and rushes past Y/N. Y/N follows]

Y/N: Hoseok, ripping up the house isn't going to solve anything!

H: It's not in my room, it's not in the kitchen. It makes itself known, right? It wants to fucking be seen. The goddamn ATTENTION WHORE.

Y/N: It's an inanimate object, Hoseok, stop!

[Hoseok stomps into the kitchen and picks up his jacket. He pauses for a moment, softening, and reaches into a pocket. He pulls out the watch]

H: [staring at the watch] Something…someone…whatever…wants me to have this. I don't. Fucking. Want it.

[**In the recorded footage, a voice is heard. It clearly says “But you took it.” Neither Y/N nor Hoseok reacts to it and neither has spoken. This voice was pointed out by YouTube user Sarkozam12**]

[camera turns off]

~~~

#190

Duration: 8:00

[Interior. Night. The couches and chairs have been removed from Hoseok’s living room. Two pillows are placed on the ground, side by side, beneath the coffee table where a ouija board as been set up. The scene is lit by numerous candles along the floor and mantle. Fingers over the microphone cause muffled noises and garbled sounds. Hoseok enters from frame right. He sits, in jeans a tee shirt, on one of the pillows. He takes a swig of cider before setting it next to him. He looks slightly above the camera.]

Y/N: [off camera] This is a terrible idea, Hobi.

H: [solemn] Is the camera set up?

Y/N: [pauses, sighs] Yeah, it's just about.done tightening the tripod.

H: Good.

[Y/N enters from the bottom of frame left. It's a long shot of the living room. Y/N sits next to Hoseok. They look at each other briefly. Hoseok draws his eyes away and onto the Oujia board. Y/N’s brow furrows, and she reaches to twine her fingers with Hoseok’s. The contact has him return his gaze to hers, smiling before he leans in and kisses her deeply. Pulling back, he kisses her knuckles three times. Hoseok’s expression hardens]

H: [quietly] I love you.

Y/N: [smiling; quietly] I’m still not used to you saying that. [pauses] I love you, too.

H: [inhaling deeply] Let's do this.

[Y/N pauses. Hoseok looks at her, concerned.]

H: Don't tell me you're quitting on this.

Y/N: [looks at the ground] Ouija boards are scary, serious shit, Hoseok. I don't think we should fuck around with this. We’ve already fucked up so much shit.

H: [shaking his head] I fucked up. And I just don’t know what other choice I have.

[Y/N pauses briefly, hesitating before leaning in to kiss him once more. They whisper to one another as they break apart, kissing for a few more seconds before separating fully. Pulling her hand from his, she sighs and places both hands on the planchette. Hoseok follows suit and does the same]

H: [uncomfortable] What do I say?

Y/N: [loudly] Is there anyone here with us?

[They remain quiet and wait. The planchette does not move.]

H: What if we contact Zozo? That's the opposite of what I want.

Y/N: [giggling, though her sense of amusement is unconvicing] Don't be stupid.

[Both are silenced by the planchette which has started to move in swirls across the board.]

H: Is that you?

Y/N: No, I'm barely touching this.

H: [shaking his head] It's not me.

[The planchette stops on the word 'Bye']

H: [pauses] Well, that's sinister.

[The video warps into pixels and corrects itself. Three candles have been blown out. Y/N is panicked]

Y/N: What the fuck did that?

H: [loudly] What is your name?

[The planchette moves, quickly. Y/N says the letters it stops on.]

Y/N: L…A…I…R…R…E. D…D…D…E…A…T…H.

H: Lairreedddeath? The hell?

Y/N: I'm busy focusing on the part that - [The video warps. the masked figure from #186 appears behind Hoseok, getting closer after each pixel correction. A white hand with sharp nails reaches for his neck. It disappears] in the fire?

[The Marimba ringtone of an iPhone goes off]

H: Shit. That's mine.

Y/N: Leave it.

[The planchette spins out of control and falls from the table onto the floor. All the candles are blown out at the same time, though there is no wind to disrupt the atmosphere. The camera shifts to night vision. Both draw their attention to the bright light from the camera]

Y/N: Does your camera shift modes automatically?

H: No, what -

[A loud thud is heard, the sound of a door slamming open to the left, its metal knob hitting the wall. The door to what is considered a broom closet has flung open, but its interior is black and occasionally blurred by pixelated static. Y/N turns to look at the noise, but Hoseok disappears from view. We hear him scream]

Y/N: Hoseok?!? [Y/N searches frantically for where the sound is coming from. She turns her attention back to the door, eyes wide in alarm.] Hoseok?

[Y/N gets up and approaches the closet but the door slams shut. The lights of the house come on. Y/N opens the door to the closet. It is just a closet. The tripod falls over. The screen goes blue and flashes NO BATTERY]

~~~

Given the found footage nature of the editing and the allusion by Hoseok that Y/N was proficient in film editing, at least once mentioning the capability of using special effects in post production, many of the initial viewers of #186-190 believed the story of Hoseok’s disappearance was a clever hoax. While this report remains unbiased, it is important to point out several facts.

Firstly, it is true that Jung Hoseok went missing from his shared home April 25, 2010. The phone call received on his mobile during #190 was from his mother, mentioned in Y/F/N Y/L/N’s police report, who had not seen her son since April 11, 2010. Secondly, the pocket watch, and the clothing in which Hoseok disappeared in, have never been found. Until August 2011, the footage captured during #190 depicted the last known whereabouts of Jung Hoseok.

When Y/N deactivated her account, #184-190 was removed from YouTube in accordance with YouTube’s privacy policies, however not before user TwerK had downloaded the video to a flash drive. In June of 2010, the video was uploaded to Kim Taehyung’s channel, with reasons citing the urgency for fans and interested parties to continue to study the video - i.e in search of clues or proof of a hoax. It is worth noting that while there is a well documented friendship and romantic relationship between Euripet3s1 and theJungProject (ie: both were subscribers to each other's channels, the earliest comments on each party's videos date back to 2008, Euripet3s1 tagged theJungProject in a video called Top 10 Films of 2009, etc) TwerK did not subscribe to either channel, nor has he confessed to knowing either personally.

It is because of these reasons that the footage in Help Explain This is, in a word, astounding. The film itself was uploaded with a description consisting of a personal plea from Taehyung to help explain what he had caught. Once the video was live, Taehyung experienced a brief period of notoriety on the internet, while simultaneously going under fire by those close to Hoseok who called his video 'tactless and offensive.'

It is also worth noting that Y/N has become reclusive since these events and has not been available for comment since late 2010, on advice from her therapist.

Help Explain This

Duration: 4:03

[Interior. Mid-Day. Footsteps thud up the stairs of Borley Rectory. The camera is pointed at the landing, but the painting is gone. The person arrives at the landing and he speaks. He is Korean.]

T: Okay. So. Kim Taehyung here. I’m sorry in advance for any English mistakes, but a few subscribers wanted me to visit the rectory while I am here on vacation. Yes, yes, I know it's weird that my YouTube channel only has one video on it, but some of you on Reddit convinced me to make this. Here we are [Camera pans right to left, light pours in from holes in the ceiling. The home appears to be empty.]. Exact same spot where Euripet3s1 stood. As you can see there is no painting on the wall. Ehm.

[He turns to his left and enters the bedroom, panning the camera right to left as Y/N had done. A naked figure stands in the back right corner of the bedroom, his back to the camera, facing the wall]

T: Again, the room is completely empty. The walls are badly burned. I know you all want to believe this was a hoax, but there's no way these two had the budget. You can't even get up the stairs easily without worrying about falling through.

[He turns left, zooming to an extreme long shot. The right side of the room out of frame.]

T: This is where theJungProject found the pocket watch. No chest of drawers here. [Camera pans down, showing his feet] You can see the boards of the floor are burned. I'm too afraid to even put weight there. [He presses his foot to the floor, retracting it immediately.]

[Raising the camera, he turns the camera back to right, slightly, showing the whole of the room. The figure from the corner has turned around and is standing naked in a full body shot. The camera pixelates. The figure is now close to the lens, able to be viewed from the middle of the waist up. His mouth and eyes are wide open, but blackened as though holes. The figure is clearly Jung Hoseok.]

T: That's it, then. Sorry the video was so lame.

[He turns and leaves the room. The camera does one last pan from the landing back to the room. The foyer below is empty. The room he had just exited is empty]

Fin.

Author’s Note #2: The locations in this story - Borley Rectory, Boxer's Lake, Liverpool Street Station, Suffolk, and Sudbury - are all real places. Borley Rectory was known as 'the most haunted house in England' and it did get severely burned in 1939. There is actually a woman who haunted the building named Marie Lairre.

381 notes · View notes

honeyedhoseok · 5 years ago

Text

Hanami Pt. 1 | The V2 Series

Genre | just messy, messy angst

Word Count | 4.5K

Warnings | Y/N has lots of anxiety in this chapter, be warned! LOTS of pining, mentions of depression, etc. Basically just Y/N wallowing.

Summary | You and Hongbin head downtown to meet the rest of your friends in celebration of the cherry blossom festival.

A/N | This is slight filler. But! It’s pretty important for what’s to come. Sorry if it seems redundant. It took me forever to pump this out, so I hope you enjoy, nonetheless <3 also, the answer to who is holding hands in the image teaser is finally solved!!

Read the rest of the V2 Series HERE!

Yeonwoo | Picture Message Received [11:28 AM]

Yeonwoo [11:28AM] I’m downtown!!! Cherry blossom ice cream!!! You guys need to try this

Hyejin [11:34AM] Yeonwoo, it’s not even lunch time yet?

Yeonwoo [11:36AM] And? I’m already drinking, too :) the bars opened early. look at this thing!!

Yeonwoo | Picture Message Received [11:36AM]

Yeonwoo [11:37AM] it’s called a Royal Orchid, isn’t it pretty?

Y/N [11:38AM] holy fuck, I want one!!!!!!!

Yeonwoo [11:40AM] come downtown!!! Let’s all meet up

Hyejin [11:41AM] I’m down!

After placing your phone on your nightstand, you roll over in bed, taking in the sight of a peacefully sleeping Hongbin beside you. His hair curls cutely around his temples, his mouth slightly agape at the deep sleep that has overcome him after getting home later than usual the night before.

He was only awake for an hour or two last night—long enough to heat up some leftovers in the oven and shovel them in his mouth—before he was trudging off to bed to sleep in on his upcoming day off.

You hate to ask him, but you want to meet your friends downtown and since he didn’t have work—

“Stop staring at me like that,” he murmurs with a dry throat, one eye creaking open to stare at you humorously. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Your mouth falls open. “How’d you even know I was looking?”

“I could feel it,” Hongbin says, a smile splitting his face in two. “You look like you’re about to apologize for something.”

You hate that he can read you so well. “Well—I know it’s your day off,” you begin, watching Hongbin’s expression to gauge his reaction before you push further, “but Yeonwoo is out at the Cherry Blossom Festival and I was wondering if you wanted to go check it out?”

“Sure,” he agrees easily, yawning. “Why are you acting like you’re afraid to ask me out?”

Hongbin reaches out to caress the side of your face gently, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your mouth down to his for a chaste kiss. “Are you getting shy on me in our old age?”

You return the soft press of his lips, but roll your eyes. “You’re older than me!”

“Taller, too.” He grins, stretching his long limbs with a groan. “I just need to shower and then we can go.”

“Really?” You say, grinning. “I’ll get dressed!”

You hop out of bed, walking over to your dresser to pick out an outfit. A few moments later, Hongbin sidles up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“You sure you don’t want to join me for a shower first?” He murmurs, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

Your stomach stirs at the intent in his words, and you let out a breathy laugh. “I’m already clean,” you protest. “I took a shower last night before bed.”

“I can help make you dirty again,” he suggests, nose ghosting up the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Hmm?”

Goosebumps arise where Hongbin’s breath floats over, paired with light kisses that have you closing your eyes as he continues his persuasive assault. Just as you are about to give in, Hongbin’s hands traveling south from your waist and under the long t-shirt you wore to bed, his phone vibrates on the nightstand.

Loud buzzing noises fill the room and your eyes re-open, the desire fizzling out of your system just as quickly as it entered. You sigh, removing yourself from his embrace and returning to finding your clothes as Hongbin slinks away, leaving an apology whispered against your skin as he places a final, soft kiss on your shoulder.

You won’t let a badly-timed phone call ruin your mood, though. At least Hongbin had agreed to come out at all, right?

While Hongbin is in the shower, you find yourself indulging in your new habit of unhealthily checking Taehyung and Yeseul’s social media accounts for any updates.

Today, along with hundreds of others in the city—and soon to include you and your friends—they are enjoying a day off to participate in the festivities of the annual cherry blossom festival. Downtown was going to be buzzing today with street vendors and food carts and just general fun, which is why you wanted to go. It was no wonder that Taehyung and Yeseul would be out doing the same thing, but you roll your eyes at the post anyway.

Despite seeing posts similar to these in the past few weeks from both Taehyung and Yeseul, it still turns your stomach. A little less, now—you’ll admit that much—but not because you’d come any closer to being okay with Taehyung completely moved on and living his best life after your—

What were you even supposed to call it? A falling out? A break up? For two people who weren’t exclusive, it didn’t seem right to call it that, even though the pain was so reminiscent of previous heartbreak you’d experienced.

You stare at the photo for a while, letting your eyes trace over Taehyung’s soft locks, his pretty brown eyes and eyelashes, his tanned skin, his lips pulled into a cute smirk, the sleeves of his shirt coming down a little on his hand making a peace sign, the curve of his jaw. Tears prick at the backs of your eyes but you refuse to let them blur your vision, cradling Taehyung’s picture on the screen in your hands for just a little while longer as you settle into your longing—hoping that one day it won’t be so hard to see him like this. Hoping that one day you won’t feel so nostalgic when a picture of him pops up. Hoping that one day—and if it came soon, you’d be okay with that—that you won’t wish you could go back to the peaceful day at his apartment before everything fell apart.

You and Hongbin arrive downtown just as Yeonwoo gives you her updated location: a snow cone cart near the water. When you walk up, she’s ordering a Dragon Blood flavor in their largest size while Hyejin stands beside her, contemplating all of her options on the menu board with furrowed brows.

Yeonwoo’s eyes light up. “You’re here!” she says, walking over to pull you into an embrace. “With Hongbin!”

“I’m here,” he says cheerfully, returning her hug with small pats between the shoulder blades. “It’s been a while, right?”

“Yep,” Hyejin says, joining your group off to the side as she pockets her wallet. “Now Yeonwoo and I can third wheel like old times.”

You roll your eyes as Hongbin chuckles, feeling his hand find the small of your back. “Do you want a snow cone?” he asks. “My treat.”

You nod and he gets in line, leaving you with your reeling friends.

“So, how’s everything?”

The intent in Yeonwoo’s voice is hard to hide, and you try not to get annoyed by it. After your embarrassing break down in her car concerning Taehyung, she’d been periodically checking in on you to make sure you weren’t spiraling again.

I’m fine, I promise, you’d texted her just recently.

In reality, you were definitely spiraling, just not where anyone could see it anymore. Being up to date with Taehyung’s escapades on his Instagram hurt, but somehow soothed the ache of emptiness inside you—it was almost enough just to see his face, see him smiling and happy even if it wasn’t with you. Almost.

“Everything’s fine,” you respond, grinning. “I finally convinced Hongbin to do something with me on his day off, so this is the best day I’ve had in awhile.”

“Aww,” Hyejin coos. “Cute, you’re like an old married couple.”

You grimace at the comment, but force out a stifled laugh. “Something like that, yeah.”

You glance to where Hongbin is in line, talking with the street vendor about the most popular flavors on the menu. He looked good today, you had to admit: his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his chin in thank you to the vendor, his outfit a casual pair of jeans and a t-shirt that you hadn’t seen him in in so long you forgot he owned such clothes, the perfect smile he threw your way as he headed over, two yellow snow cones in his hands.

He offers you one. “He said the pina colada was good,” he says. “I hope that’s okay?”

You shrug, taking a bite out of the rounded top. Hongbin watches you with cautious eyes, but when you give him a smile while you crunch on the shaved ice, his face lights up happily. He takes out his phone to snap a quick picture of his own cone before having a taste.

Something stirs in your stomach as you watch him, a warm feeling that has been dormant for a while.

“Should we walk?” Yeonwoo asks. “I’m waiting on a friend to join us, they should be here in a little.”

Hyejin laughs a little at the statement but when you look at her, she shakes her head in a way that lets you know she’ll tell you later.

The four of you set out, walking beside the riverfront for a little while. Cherry blossoms litter the ground and there’s a happy air that settles above you in the atmosphere—for the first time in a while, you actually feel good.

Maybe it’s the outside air, maybe it’s the sugary sweetness of the snowcone in your hand, maybe it’s the way Hongbin’s fingers brush against your own at your side a few times before he finally catches them, lacing them through his and smiling down at you.

The way your heart flutters at the action is surprising, but not unwelcome.

“Look at those!” Yeonwoo says suddenly, pointing over at a vendor whose booth boasts a collection of hand-made wire flowers, the petals covered in resin in various shades of blues, pinks, and reds.

She leads your group over, stooping in front of a display of the fake flowers in a small dirt-filled pot on the ground.

“How much?” Hyejin asks the woman manning the booth.

“Four dollars each,” the woman says, giving you all a warm smile. “Or fifteen for the pot.”

“They’d be perfect for my coffee table,” Yeonwoo murmurs. “Should I get them?”

She looks up at you for affirmation, making you chuckle. You can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s made up her mind, she just wanted someone else to tell her it was a good idea, too.

“I mean, yeah—“

“We’ll take them.” A voice behind you chimes in, reaching over the table display to hand the woman a twenty dollar bill. Both you and Yeonwoo turn around to see a grinning Jungkook handing the woman the money. “Keep the change,” he adds with an incredibly charming smile.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Jungkook—his hair is longer, but it looks good, somehow. And he’s broader like he’s been working out his upper body, particularly his chest and shoulders. His eyes flicker to yours and his mouth droops for a fraction of a second before he’s focused back on Yeonwoo, and he gives her a cheeky grin.

“They’ll go good in the living room,” you hear him murmur to her as he hands her the pot of flowers. She grins up at him and he envelops her in a soft hug, his lips at her ear as he says something you can’t hear but has Yeonwoo giggling and red in the face.

Hongbin sidles up beside you, scaring you out of your transfixed gaze on Jungkook and Yeonwoo.

“Jungkook, how you been, man?” Hongbin says, holding out his hand for a shake. Jungkook takes it, keeping one arm lazily draped over Yeonwoo’s shoulders. She shrugs it off after a few moments, looking uncomfortable with the way you and Hyejin’s eyes keep roaming her every move.

You can’t help but wonder what Jungkook is doing here, and more importantly, if Taehyung is anywhere in the vicinity. Goosebumps arise on your skin at the thought, and you wrap your arms around yourself. You find yourself thinking of the social media posts you’d seen throughout the day.

Jungkook had commented on Yeseul’s instagram update, you remembered that much. Was he meeting them here? Was Taehyung coming? Was he bringing Yeseul? Were you going to have to see them together? Your brain clouds with thoughts, so much that Hongbin has to say your name three times before you hear it.

“You okay?” He asks, looking at you uneasily. He brushes a few stray hairs back from your face. “You don’t look so good, baby.”

“I’m fine,” you say, swatting his hand away. You don’t mean to do it as angrily as you do, and the look of hurt that crosses Hongbin’s face has you backtracking, choosing to grab his hand and intertwine your fingers through his instead. “Sorry.”

“Have you guys eaten?” Jungkook asks. “I passed a cart on the way over that was selling smoked turkey legs and they looked really good.”

“Nope,” Yeonwoo replies, popping her lips on the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

You raise your eyebrows at the statement, knowing surely from the text messages in your group chat that Yeonwoo had been snacking since she and Hyejin arrived downtown this morning.

“Lead the way,” Hyejin says, gesturing for the two to lead at the front of the sidewalk. She joins you and Hongbin behind them, completely content with being the fifth wheel with the way a smirk settles onto her face.

“What’s that thing you wanted to tell me?” you whisper to her, eyes darting to Yeonwoo.

“I can’t tell you right now,” she replies, shaking her head. “But isn’t it obvious?”

You purse your lips in thought. You were getting more curious by the moment—what was obvious?

You remembered that a while ago, you’d thought Jungkook and Hyejin were going to be a thing, but Hyejin was never interested in him. What was he doing now? Were he and Yeonwoo getting close because they were discussing theories on you and Taehyung, why both of you were probably acting weird lately?

Your stomach turns at the thought, and you focus on breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth for the rest of the walk to the food cart. Jungkook keeps bumping into Yeonwoo’s shoulder as you walk, making her giggle and push him away. Hongbin is silent beside you—probably still sulking about you pushing his hand away earlier—and Hyejin is only interested in her phone for the time being. The group atmosphere feels off now, and you can’t tell if it’s your imagination everything is really as tilted as it seems.

The most important thing on your mind at the moment was whether or not you could get Jungkook to talk about Taehyung without it being too obvious; maybe you could pull him to the side at some point, or mention Taehyung in passing—

“Y/N, do you remember when we came to the Cherry Blossom festival and spent the whole time looking for a place that sold the drink we saw someone holding on their instagram story?” Yeonwoo says, turning to look over her shoulder at you with a grin.

You nod immediately. “We searched everywhere,” you say, shaking your head at the memory.

“So you never found it?” Jungkook asks. “What did it look like?”

Yeonwoo gives him the general description of the drink from what she remembers, and Jungkook does some searching as you all stand in line for the food cart.

“I’m going to grab us that bench over there,” Hyejin says. “Y/N, come with me so I don’t have to look like a loser sitting by myself.”

You let Hyejin pull you out of line, yelling at Hongbin to get you a corn dog before you’re too far away. Hyejin sits in front of you on the wooden bench, pulling out a powder puff from her purse before she speaks.

“So, are you playing dumb right now?” Hyejin asks. She was always one to get right to the point. “‘Cause I’m kind of confused.”

You watch her inspect her reflection in a small heart-shaped mirror that she also pulls from her purse, feeling your pulse quicken in your veins.

“What?” you manage to say after a few moments. “What do you mean?”

“You know that I know, right?” Hyejin says. “About everything.”

This is what she wanted to talk to you about. So Yeonwoo was discussing your secrets—not with Jungkook, but with Hyejin; which meant she’d figured it out.

Your stomach clenches at the thought and somewhere in the back of your head you now have a slight headache forming. You should have known you couldn’t trust Yeonwoo, or anyone, for that matter, with such a sensitive subject as Taehyung—why did you ever think it was a good idea to show your emotions in front of her that day at the cafe?

Hyejin looks over her mirror at you, raising an eyebrow as she waits for your answer.

You blow out a long breath, hands gripping onto the edge of the table, fingernails digging into the splintered wood to keep you grounded.

“You do?” you say weakly. “Hyejin—”

She snaps the compact shut suddenly, eliciting a sharp clap that makes you jump in your seat.

“They’re kind of cute, right? I mean, I know that we had a small thing a while ago, but it never went anywhere, you know? I like him better for her,” Hyejin says, looking over to where your friends stand in line.

Your eyes follow hers, looking at Jungkook and Yeonwoo in line for a few moments before it registers.

“Oh,” you breathe out, finally putting the pieces together. “Oh my god.”

A giggle bursts from behind your closed lips, followed by another until you are full-on laughing at the situation. Hyejin wasn’t talking about you, she was talking about Yeonwoo—and the thought makes you so happy a tear rolls down your cheek at your hysterically-induced laughter.

Hyejin smiles at you a little, laughing a little out of spite, but her eyebrows furrow slightly as she’s unable to understand why the situation is so funny to you. After laughing way too hard for way too long, you finally straighten up, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes as Hyejin watches on.

“Yes, them—” you clear your throat, stilling recovering from laughing as you nod in the direction of Jungkook and Yeonwoo’s backs, “they’re cute together—but as in, like, friends?”

“What? You are not this fucking slow, Y/N” Hyejin snaps, slapping her hand down on the table.

You blink a few times, still not understanding.

“Oh my god,” Hyejin groans. “They’re dating, Y/N. Jesus.”

“Yeonwoo and Jungkook?” you say incredulously.

Hyejin nods in a way that screams “duh,” but you don’t have time to be offended by her demeanor.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. A couple of weeks now, I think.”

“How come no one told me?”

You look back to where your best friend is standing in line, and suddenly, you can see it: the way Yeonwoo’s shoulder nudges innocently against Jungkook’s, down to where Jungkook’s knuckles brush against the back of Yeonwoo’s hand, just itching to grab it and show her some cute affection in public.

“God, Yeonwoo was right,” Hyejin says, her voice full of pity. “You really have clocked out from the world around you lately.”

You have to fight the urge to send a biting remark back. The comment stings, but you know it’s also true.

“Yeonwoo said that?” You ask, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “What else has she said?”

“About you?” Hyejin asks, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing, really. She’s kind of been in la la land lately with Jungkook around.”

“Oh yeah?” You reply weakly.

For some reason, the news hits you a little harder than you expected. Had you really been so caught up in your own problems that you hadn’t noticed anything around you?

“Listen, we’re all going through stuff. I get it,” Hyejin begins, and you can already tell that you’re not going to like what she has to say. “But Yeonwoo and you are supposed to be best friends—like the real kind, stronger than any of us—and for you to just cut her off because you want to fight your battles on your own? Well, it’s—she’s hurt, Y/N.”

You look down at your fingernails, at the chipped paint that remains on the bed from weeks of neglect. Your eyes threaten to well up with tears but you hold them back, even though you’re sure Hyejin can see how close you are from the red tint to your cheeks and nose.

“She’s trying—well, we both are, I guess. But Yeonwoo is really trying to be there for you. Please tell me you see that?”

“Of course I do,” you say quietly, and the stinging feeling behind your eyes doubles as you finally hold Hyejin’s gaze. “There’s just some stuff that’s not worth dragging other people into, you know? I don’t want to burden her with all my mess.”

“What kind of mess?” Hyejin asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Are you in debt or something?”

“What?” you say incredulously. “No! I’m not in debt, oh my god. Well, I am—what person our age isn’t—but that’s besides the point. This has nothing to do with that.”

“I was going to say, I can help you organize your finances, Y/N. All you have to do is—”

“Hyejin, no,” you say, laughing a little. “I’m fine, my finances are fine.”

You two grin at each other and the smile on your face feels genuine. The weight pressing on your shoulders for the last month feels a little less like a crushing weight, if only for a few moments. You still weren’t sure if you could ever indulge fully into your burdens to Yeonwoo, but it was nice that she seemed ready to listen if you ever did.

The rest of the group joins you two at the table then, sitting down cardboard trays filled with fried goodies that make your mouth water. As you reach towards Yeonwoo to pinch a piece of funnel cake off, her eyes meet yours and you give her a small smile. She returns it, and you consider that another win.

You float through conversation with your friends, attempting to catch up on small things you missed with Yeonwoo and Hyejin after removing yourself from your group chat. Hyejin had recently taken up a new kickboxing class that she claimed was doing amazing things for her obliques, and Yeonwoo was getting into gardening but was killing everything she touched so far.

“Hence, why I bought the flowers for her,” Jungkook adds in, throwing a teasing smile Yeonwoo’s way. “If I come over to another sad-looking flower pot—”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault!” Yeonwoo insists, laughing. “I told Taehyung I thought my green thumb was black and he insisted I try a succulent—”

“—that you still managed to kill!”

Every giggles at their banter, which quickly fades as your boyfriend mentions the one person who could ruin your good mood.

“Speaking of Taehyung,” Hongbin says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Where’s he been lately? I haven’t seen him around as much.”

Somehow, across the table, Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He stares pointedly at you, almost in a taunting demeanor, and the funnel cake on your stomach sours a little at the eye contact. You too look at each other a little too long—you, trying to figure out why he is looking at you so pointedly, and Jungkook, waiting on your answer—before Hongbin laughs.

“What? Is he out doing something we can’t know?”

“No,” Jungkook says, finally redirecting his gaze beside you at Hongbin. “He’s out with his girlfriend a lot lately—someone from work.”

“Girlfriend?” you and Hongbin ask at the same time, though your tone is a little more disappointed and little less surprised than Hongbin’s.

“Yeseul, right?” Yeonwoo asks. “I think we saw them together the other day downtown—at the cafe, remember, Y/N?”

Her tone is ginger, dancing lightly on the subject, and you’re appreciative. You do a nod-shrug combination at the comment, feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you once more.

“Ah, so that’s why he’s not around as much anymore,” Hongbin says, chuckling. “Well good for him. Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you’re sure it only sounds mocking to your ears because of your mixed emotions about the subject being discussed.

“Well you just found out, right?” Jungkook interjects for you.

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “The other day, like Yeonwoo said.”

Jungkook hums, quirking an eyebrow at you as he crumples his napkin up in his hand before tossing it back on the table. Your eyes follow it as the conversation fades, replaced by the rushing in your ears suddenly. Every time you thought you could get away from talking or thinking about Taehyung, he came right back somehow to make you feel hollow all over again.

“I’ll be back,” you say quickly, swinging your legs over the side of the bench and standing up. It feels like your limbs are buzzing with energy, and you walk away from the table before anyone can ask where you’re going.

The sun is setting now, and the proximity of the waterfront to the food cart is reachable in just a short walk from the table. You head over, sitting down on a bench and pulling out your phone. No one at the table seems to be suspicious of your exit except for Jungkook, who quickly looks back at you over his shoulder for a second before returning to the conversation.

You pull up Instagram—a coping mechanism and an anxiety booster at once—and type in the familiar characters of Taehyung’s username before clicking on his profile. There’s nothing new on his story or Yeseul’s and so you head back to your home screen. At the top, there is a list of people who have recently updated their stories, with Jungkook being the first.

You click on it, seeing that it was just posted within the last minute or so, and a picture of two hands clasped tightly pops up. You look up at the table where your friends sit, watching Jungkook show Yeonwoo the picture to which she gives him a shy smile, shaking her head at how cheesy it is.

It is cheesy, but it’s also cute. It makes a sad feeling stir within you, one that makes you wish you had someone to post cheesy pictures of—and although Hongbin sits just a few feet away from you, conversing with your friends in your absence, you know deep down you don’t want it to be with him.

No, your mind stays—as always—fixated on the one person you can’t have, the one person who doesn’t want you anymore, the one person who you waited too long to realize you had, and then they were gone for good. It’s pathetic, really. The way your eyes dare to prick again at just the thought of him. The way mentioning him makes you remember every good thing about him and why you were so hooked on him all these years—it had nothing to do with the physically exciting details of your secret relationship. You were just in love with him, plain and simple.

Always had been, it seemed.

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #kim taehyung angst #taehyung scenario #kim taehyung scenarios #bts angst #bts fics #kim taehyung fics #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader smut #taehyung x reader angst #bts scenarios #the v2 series #hanami #part one #honeyedhoseok

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hanji-zoe103 · 5 years ago

Text

LeviHan Spookfest! Nightmare/Dream

Come Back Alive-

By Hanji-Zoe103

CHAP 1:

The expedition went horribly wrong. Only a handful or less made it out alive. None escaped unscathed...

The few who survived, were separated and made their way back to base.

Levi’s POV:

Darkness... that’s what he saw. Then it turned to red. Levi stood in the middle of a blood-soaked battlefield. Remains of his comrades scattered everywhere, titans devouring the others. Where was she? He didn’t see her anywhere. Levi cried out for Hanji, hoping, praying she was still alive. Seconds later, he heard her voice. It wasn’t her usual excited voice...it was pained and afraid. Levi looked up, his blood running cold. A titan has Hanji in its grasp. Her leg had already been bitten off. Levi started to run. His body ignoring the pain it was in. He needed to get to her, to save her... Levi yelled out her name. Hanji looked at him, tears falling down her face. There was a crunching sound and a spray of blood. Levi watched in horror as the Titan crushed her body to nothing, her blood pouring over its hand. He let out a pained and sad yell before dropping to his knees, the only thing left of her...was her goggles she wore during missions...

Hanji’s POV:

Spurts of red and yelling echoes through the air. It was a bloodbath out in the battlefield. Hanji fought as much as she could. She tried to save who she could but they were overwhelmed by the titans. There was one person she was desperately trying to locate, Levi. Hanji looked as she fought. Due to her injuries, she was failing. Hanji stopped dead in her tracks seeing half of a body lying in a pool of blood. His name left her lips in a cry of shock. Hanji rushed over. Levi’s eyes were dull. She whimpered his name over and over, hoping he was still there. Nothing. Tears slipped down her face as she cradled his lifeless body in her arms. She begged him not to go, not to leave her... There was just silence in response. Hanji had hoped for something, anything… even Levi’s “Tch” but there was nothing. She cradled his body in her arms and sobbed.

CHAP 2:

Levi’s POV:

He jolted awake, screaming out Hanji’s name.

“Captain, easy!” came a young female voice.

Two gentle hands pushed him down.

“You need to stay still sir,” the voice said.

Levi knew it was a medic.

“Where is she?!” Levi demanded.

“Where is who?” the medic asked.

“Hanji!” Levi said. 

“I haven’t seen her, sir,” the medic replied.

Levi pushed her hands away and got up.

“Stay in bed! You’re badly wounded!” she urged.

“Get your damn hands off me!” Levi snapped.

The medic backed off. Levi stumbled out of the room. He made his way to Hanji’s room.

“Hanji?!” Levi called out.

There was no answer. Levi pushed the door open and was met with an empty room. He looked around, hoping to see her walk in any minute or to come from the bathroom. Then he saw it… Hanji’s mission glasses. They were resting on her desk and…they were covered in blood with a shattered lens.

“No…no!” Levi yelled.

His worst nightmare had come true. Hanji was gone. He’d lost the only person he cared about. Levi clutched her glassed to his chest, tears slowly slipping down his face. He’d never get to talk with her again, listen to her ramble on late into the night about titans or enjoy her company… Levi was devastated.

Hanji’s POV:

Hanji slowly opened her eyes. Where was she…? Everything was blurred.

“Oh wonderful, you’re awake,” a voice said.

Hanji looked in the direction the voice had come from. It was a person she could tell but nothing more.

“Oh, let me help,” the voice said.

They placed glasses on her face. Hanji saw it was a medic.

“Wh-where am I?” she asked.

“Medical bay,” the medic answered.

A memory came rushing back to Hanji.

“LEVI!” she cried.

“Hey, easy!” the medic said.

“No! I-I have to find him!” Hanji exclaimed.

“Captain Levi has not been brought in yet…” the medic said.

Hanji stumbled out of bed.

“I-I have to find him!” she said.

“You will stay in bed!” the medic replied.

“You have a broken leg, several bad lacerations, a concussion, broken wrist and a great many bruises. You need to stay put!”

“I will not.” Hanji pulled free of the medics grasp and limped out of the room.

She ignored the pain that ripped through her body and continued to Levi’s room.

“L-Levi?!” Hanji called.

“Levi answer me!”

There was only silence. Hanji shoved the door open and stumbled in, collapsing on the ground due to her broken leg. The room was empty. Not a soul in sight. Hanji dragged herself to his bed where a green cape sat draped over the side.

“Levi?” She said in a shaking voice.

Unable to stand, Hanji grabbed the corner of the cape and pulled it. The cape crumpled onto the floor in front of her. Hanji froze and covered her mouth with her hand. The cape was tattered and splattered with blood. A loud shrieking sob rang through the air. Hanji called out Levi’s name again and again as she clutched his cape in her shaking hands. The one she cared most for had be ripped away from her…

—————

Levi slowly made his way back to his room. He knew the medic would try to make him stay in the med bay but he did not want to. His heart was too shattered. Levi adjusted Hanji’s goggles on his head. The last item he had of hers and he wasn’t going to let it go. With a heavy sigh, Levi pushed the door open. He halted mid step.

“H…Hanji?” he gasped.

There she was, curled up on the floor, clutching his cloak like it was the last thing she had of him. Much like him with her goggles.

“I-is that really you?” Levi said in a shaking voice.

Hanji looked up.

“LEVI!” she exclaimed.

Hanji stood but collapsed on the ground. She crawled towards him.

“HANJI!” Levi exclaimed.

He rushed towards her, dropping to his knees next to her. Levi pulled her to his chest, tears dripped down his face.

“Y-you’re alive…you’re alive,” he said.

Hanji grasped onto his shirt.

“I…I saw you…You’re r-really here?” she cried.

“I’m really here,” Levi said as he hugged her close.

The two held each tightly, relieved to know each was alive.

Running footsteps and the door flying open interrupted their sweet reunion.

“Captain! Section Commander!” the medics voices exclaimed.

Levi and Hanji glanced up.

“Please come back to bed Section Commander!” the medic said walking towards them.

“Do not touch her!” Levi growled at them.

Now that Hanji was alive and in his arms, Levi was not going to let anyone take her from him.

“Captain please, I need to get her back to the med bay,” the medic said.

“As well as you too Captain,” the second medic said.

“We are not going anywhere.” Levi snapped.

“She is staying with me.”

“Shhh easy Levi,” Hanji assured him.

“We will go with you but only on one condition.”

Later that evening-

Hanji and Levi laid snuggled together in one big bed. The two medics were exhausted after arguing with the pair to get them to go back to the med bay.

“Why are you two always causing a commotion?” Erwin grumbled walking in.

WHACK. A pillow smacked him in the face.

“Say another word and it’ll be a book next time.” Levi said.

“Grumpy as ever…” Erwin muttered.

“Anyway, I assume are patients are now settled in properly and staying there?”

“Yes Commander,” the medics replied.

“All wounds have been cleaned and bandaged as well as giving them medication to fight off any infection.”

“Very good,” Erwin said.

“Now…as for you two.”

“Oh eyebrows is mad,” Hanji said.

“I can take that big ass tree,” Levi replied.

Erwin scowled.

“You are both on bed rest for the week. You are also to do as the medics tell you. Understand?”

Levi and Hanji were quiet.

“Understand?” Erwin repeated.

“Yeah yeah we get it, shut up already,” Levi grumbled.

“Medics you have my permission to sedate them if they get too rowdy and refuse to stay in bed,” Erwin said.

“Oi! No way in hell!” Hanji snapped.

“We don’t need that!” Levi said.

“Then stay in bed and it won’t be necessary,” Erwin replied.

Hanji huffed and grumbled. She remembered one time when she was sick and refused to rest that Erwin had her sedated so she would get better.

“Go away Erwin, we need rest,” Levi said.

“I will go away once I know you two actually are asleep,” Erwin replied.

“We are not children!” Levi snapped.

“Yes but you both ran out of the med bay the minute you woke up,” Erwin replied.

“Because we needed to find each other!” Hanji said.

“I thought Levi was dead. Can you imagine the pain and sadness I felt from that?”

Erwin sighed. He did know that feeling but as Commander, he had to keep his emotions in check.

“Promise me you will both get some rest and stay in bed?” Erwin said.

“We will Erwin,” Hanji replied.

“I will be back to check on you,” Erwin said.

“Rest well.”

He left after that. The medics followed after.

“You’re really alive?” Hanji asked touching Levi’s face.

“I’m alive, and so are you my sweet Hanji,” Levi replied kissing her hand.

“I was so sure I’d lost you…a titan…crushed you. That light left your eyes…”

He held her close, his body trembling. Hanji tried her best to hold onto him with her injured wrist.

“I saw you…you… died in my arms Levi,” Hanji whimpered.

“I’m right here with you,” Levi said.

“We’re both okay. We’re okay…”

The pair stayed this way, tightly holding onto each other. They both feared that they’d lose one another. That they’d wake and find themselves alone again…

“I love you Zoe, please…don’t leave me,” Levi said softly.

“I love you too Levi, and I won’t leave you,” Hanji replied.

“Please…I can’t lose you either…”

“I’m not going anywhere Zoe,” Levi said as he stroked her hair.

Eventually, they drifted off to sleep. Neither had a nightmare that night, instead, dreams of love and happiness

#levihanspookfest #levihanspookfest2019 #@levihanweek #hanji zoë #levi ackerman #levihan

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suckitsurveys · 4 years ago

Text

What would you call your body type? Fat.

Are you a morning person? Eh. I have to be.

Have you ever been to Target? Countless times. I miss Target :(

Do you like iced tea? Yes. I should make some.

When is the next time you’ll be at work? I’m technically at work right now.

Do you have a savings account? Yes.

Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? Yes.

What color bedsheets are currently on your bed? Light blue.

Have you ever been to Disney World? If so, how many times have you been? Nope.

Does grammar and capitalization mean anything to you? Yes.

Are you good at wrapping gifts for others? Yes.

Do you have a dirty clothes hamper in your room? Yes.

What would you say is your favorite television show? BoJack Horseman.

Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? Yes. I’m so upset that we might not get to do that this year because of covid. Is your vision good? With my glasses on, yeah. ha.

Is there any piece of jewelry you’re constantly wearing? Earrings and my nose stud.

What is one thing you desire as of now? For this covid shit to fucking end. And justice for Breonna Taylor. And actual equality.

What kind of phone do you have? Galaxy S10.

If you could move anywhere, where would you choose? On a lake in the woods.

Do you blog a lot, if at all? This I guess.

Is your present hair color, natural? My roots sure as fuck are.

What makes you the most angry when it comes to people? IGNORANCE. I cannot wrap my head around people who don’t fucking give a shit about other people.

Describe your current outfit? I’m in PJs.

What was the last thing you ordered online? A couple of outfits fro my nieces for the 4th of July per their request.

Have you ever felt as though you were drifting apart from a best friend? Yeah, and I did.

What color are your eyes? Green.

Have you ever worn color contacts? Nope.

What’s the best thing about a hug? Comfort.

Biggest fear? Having my fears used against me.

If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? 9 years.

Do you know any genuinely friendly people? Yes.

Do you buy your friends gifts? Yeah. What was the last thing you plugged in? The charger to this laptop.

How old are you? 30.

What color headphones do you own? They’re purple. I haven’t used them in a long time since I don’t go to an actual gym anymore.

Have you ever shopped at Urban Outfitters? Yeah, just a couple of times.

Where do you buy the majority of your clothing? Torrid and Target.

Would you rather wear necklaces or earrings? Earrings.

Do you consider yourself fortunate? I am in some ways.

Do you enjoy watching fights? Mark watches UFC and I occasionally catch myself getting into them.

Have you ever been in a physical fight? Not a real one.

Do you tend to talk badly about people? I tend to talk badly about idiotic people who don’t give a shit about other people.

Where are your parents as of now? My dad is at home most likely and my mother passed away in 2013.

Does your computer cooperate most of the time? I guess.

Does your family have any cheesy traditions? Yes.

When did you last go to a book store? It’s been a while.

What’s the closest book store where you live? I think there’s a local one not far from here. How much money do you have on you right now? Physical money? None.

Favorite personal feature? My eyes and my hair.

Are you wearing make up at the moment? Nope.

Favorite television channel? I don’t have regular TV. Do Netflix and Hulu count as channels?

Describe any piercings or tattoos you might have? I have 5 piercings and 9 tattoos but I don’t feel like explaining all of them.

Have you ever been fired from a job? No.

Are you currently losing a best friend? Eh.

Describe the worst day of your life: No.

Do you play any video games? Eh. Sometimes.

Would you say you hate anyone? Yes, my fucking brother in law.

Do you think freckles are cute? Sure.

Last time you went to the mall? Back in early March.

Name something that’s your favorite color: That’s in my favorite color? The LED lights above my couch. They’re currently purple.

Have you been to Red Lobster before? YES I miss it.

Do you judge by appearances? We all do to an extent. That’s what first impressions are.

Do you follow a certain religion? Nope.

Who is your role model, if you had to choose? My dad.

Would you rather have nice hair or lips? Hair.

What are you most self conscious about? My stomach.

Do you have any family members who live out of town? Yeah.

Do you consider yourself short? Yes.

What room are you in? The living room.

Hoodies or jackets? Hoodies.

Are you outside a lot? Yes.

Have you ever been dumped via text message? No.

Do you like dreamcatchers? They’re pretty but they’re a Native thing so I don’t use them.

What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? H

Do you hate repetitive people and things? Eh, depends.

Do you think autocorrect is a blessing or curse? It can helpful and annoying at times.

Do you believe in any particular curses? Sure.

Ever play a Ouija board? Yes.

What movie scares you the most? I don’t really like movies like that.

What was your bedtime as a child? I don’t remember.

Reason why your favorite holiday is your favorite: Halloween is just so spooky and creepy and the colorssssss and even more exciting when you have kids in your life. Trick or Treating is so fun.

Do you work with any close friends? Nah.

Do you consider yourself spoiled? In some ways, yes, but I’m not a brat. I am fortunate to have very loving and caring and giving family members, my husband included.

Do you listen to any country music? I don’t not listen to country music, but there isn’t a lot I voluntarily listen to.

Favorite high school teacher: Fuck all of high school.

Do you ever get drunk? Sure. I don’t really like to often but sometimes I get caught up in what I’m doing or who I am with and end up drinking a little more than planned. But it’s not something I actively plan to do.

Have you ever had highlights before? No

Favorite number: 24.

Do you still sleep with any stuffed animals? There used to be two that chilled on the bed but they haven’t in a while. What is your biggest regret in life? Regrets are dumb.

Would you say you think you have a mental disorder of some kind? Yes.

Are you normally an independent person? For the most part.

Do you have any paintings? I do.

What is one clothing fad you wish never existed? I don’t care.

Do you like to be organized? Yes.

Have you ever failed a class before? Uh huh.

Ever been judged because of your weight? Of course. What is your favorite breakfast cereal? Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Ever had a wish come true? Eh.

Do you regret meeting any of your exes? No.

Do you own any coloring books? Yes.

What’s the meanest thing someone’s called you? My brother in law called me “coddled” once very shortly after my fucking mother died so, that. He was saying it because I stilled lived with my father at the time, so fuck him.

Have you ever bullied someone? Not intentionally.

Do you ever watch Lifetime? No.

Ever tried to intentionally sabotage someone’s grade? I don’t think so.

Do you own any brown clothing? Yes.

What color are your walls painted? Very very light blue

Last thing you drank: Water.

Have you ever seen a tornado in person? I’ve been very very close to one.

Do you have an inground pool at your house? I fucking wish.

What is the first digit of your phone number? 1. :P What’s the prettiest town you’ve been to? Boston.

Do you tend to sleep a lot? No.

Silver or gold jewelry? I like both.

Do you sometimes celebrate holidays early? Depends.

Have you ever been in love? Yes.

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received? My nieces.

When was the last time you showered? Yesterday.

Would you consider yourself attractive? Eh. Not conventionally, no.

Has anyone made you mad today? Yes.

Favorite smell: Gardenia.

Are you afraid of insects? Not afraid. More grossed out than anything.

Do you have any children? Nooo.

If so, what are their names? --

Would ever consider having children in the future? I don’t want to have children.

Have you ever lived on a farm? No.

Ever played any sports? Not on a team, no.

Do both of your parents have jobs? My father is retired and my mom was a stay at home mom when she was alive.

Where is the best place you’ve been on vacation to? Wilderness Resort in the Dells. GODDDDDDDD I WANNA GO.

Are you afraid people won’t accept you? Whatever.

Are you, for the most part, an honest person? Yes.

Did you make prank phone calls as a child? I did.

Do you like to make donations? Yeah.

What is your current ringtone? The Horsin Around theme song from BoJack in 8 bit. The same ringtone BoJack has in the first few seasons of the show.

Meet anyone from your past lately? How do you meet someone you already know?

Have you ever called a teen suicide line? No.

Have you ever caught something on fire? Yes.

Ever been obsessed with a show? Duh.

What type of perfume or cologne do you use? Differnt Bath and Body Works stuff.

What’s the last book you read? I’m currently kinda reading Someone Who Will Love You in All Your Damaged Glory by Raphael Bob-Waksberg.

Dream career: Event planner if we’re ever allowed to have events again.

Have you ever climbed a mountain before? Kinda.

At what age do you plan to get married? I got married when I was 27.

Ever been in a car accident? Yes.

#surveys #quarantine

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

Text

Moirai (1/7)

ive had this idea in my head for awhile now, but i was still working out all the kinks on how I would write it. now here it is, hope you enjoy!

Summary: michael finds a baby. not everyone thinks it’s a good idea.

part one - part two - part three

ao3

Michael felt it.

He didn’t know exactly what it was he was feeling, but he knew it was important and his brain wasn’t giving him any choice but to follow it. He knew it probably wasn’t a smart idea to separate from Alex and Kyle, but there was a hum inside him that lured him away. It led him to a locked door that opened to a flight of stars that wasn’t shown on any of the maps that they’d found.

Alex had kept his word to look into Project Shepard and make sure what happened at Caulfield wasn’t happening elsewhere. He’d only come up with one possible other location, Pitlochry Prison, but it didn’t have nearly as much information on it. Still, he didn’t want to take any chances, and he packed up Michael and Kyle to go check it out.

Things were still confusing between them. He’d ended things with Maria the moment Max died, but Alex had still been hurt by it. Fixing that was slow and painful and for a while all they could discuss was Project Shepard. Then about five weeks ago, Michael had gotten a little too fucked up and ended up exploding the airstream in a way that even Michael Bay would’ve been jealous of. He couch hopped for a few nights, but Isobel didn’t let him sleep in and Max made too much noise with Liz. He’d even attempted to stay with Kyle, but one morning of hearing him bustling around at 4:30 AM was enough before he resigned to sleeping in the bunker with a sleeping bag. That is until Alex told him to just stay with him. It was a confusing proposition at first, but Alex had a spare bedroom that was apparently underused and it’d be easier to work with them in the same place anyway.

Michael had stayed with Alex for about a month now and he’d already decided that’s what his life was about, being with Alex Manes. They both stayed up ridiculously late if they slept at all, they liked the same movies, they understood each other’s science rambles enough to hold a coherent conversation, they picked up after themselves, they are the same food. But it was waking up to Alex humming in the kitchen over a pan of eggs at noon clad in sweatpants and nothing more as he offered a cup of coffee that had Michael sold. That’s what he wanted to wake up to forever.

Then, a few nights ago, when Alex had come to them with the prospect of another prison, Michael had had a stronger reaction than he’d anticipated. He’d overdosed on fear, memories of Caulfield taking over. Something instinctual happened in Alex‒that’s what it had to be‒and he’d held Michael close while whispering soothing words. There were two good beds in the cabin, and yet neither of them moved from the couch for hours. Even when Michael had calmed down and even when they’d both fallen asleep only to wake up the next morning, neither one of them made the decision to move.

So, after 8 hours wrapped up in Alexander Manes and after clearing his mind, Michael kissed him. He’d expected to be rejected and therefore kept it short. Sleep was still heavy in them both and that had to be what kept Alex from being Alex and telling him to stop. Instead, they’d stared for a moment with Alex’s fingers tangled up in his hair before meeting together in a sweet kiss.

They hadn’t really discussed what that meant, but they hadn’t taken it back. In fact, they’d only moved forward. Within the last three days, touching and kissing and mindblowing sex had come back to their relationship. They used the excuse of Pitlochry to not have to really talk about it because talking meant addressing their issues and they’d historically been bad at that to the point it ruined all the good stuff. He wanted so badly to keep the good stuff. He planned to keep the good stuff. That meant staying alive, safe, and with Alex at Pitlochry. He couldn’t afford to break again because he found someone he couldn’t save.

Yet, whatever was calling to him made him throw all caution to the wind.

The staircase was long and dark, so much so he could barely see a damn thing. Instinct and whatever was calling him were his only sense of direction. Maybe he should’ve felt scared. Instead, he felt braver than he had ever before in entire life. The hum deep in his brain, in his bones, kept getting louder and stronger the more he walked.

And then there was a glow.

It was faint, but it sparked something deep within Michael, a familiarity that his conscious mind couldn’t comprehend but his body knew. He raced towards it and not a single cell in his body was surprised to find a pod at the end of the tunnel. The walkie-talkie that was strapped to his shirt went off, Alex’s voice ringing through the air and getting progressively more and more panicked when he didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

Inside the pod, there was a baby. A small one, curled into the fetal position and floating there for god knows how long. Someone had put her here, put her in a place where no one could find her unless they knew. Michael didn’t know. Yet here he was.

“Guerin, I’m giving you ten seconds to respond, if you don’t, I’m going to come get you,” Alex said, carefully skirting the part where he’d put a small tracking device in each of their walkie talkies. It was for safety, in case someone was here. He thought someone had him.

Michael should’ve responded. His body seemed to scream out to respond to him, to let him know he was totally fine and it wasn’t necessary, but whatever was bringing him to this pod was in control. It didn’t give a shit about a worrying Alex; it wanted Michael.

The fear only started whenever his own hands began glowing in a way he’d only seen Max’s or his mother’s. He didn’t know how to do that and he surely didn’t know how he was doing it now. But that hum assured him this was supposed to happen, subduing his fear with the overwhelming calm and desire to follow it’s lead.

No silver was needed as his glowing palms reached into the pod, grabbing the infant cautiously and pulling her out into the world. She breathed for the first time and she whimpered and she whined and Michael stared at her as he held her out in front of him. The baby laid across his forearm, Michael instinctively cradling her head in his hand and allowed the out-of-place feeling of overwhelming pride wash over him.

Michael had held many babies in his life and even taken care of a few. Foster care was a bitch and there had been more than one home he’d been thrown into where he was expected to cater to the younger children that were there. It never really bothered him, it wasn’t their fault and he could at least make sure they were being looked after while he could, but none of that pseudo-parenting made him feel like he did in that moment. He could only assume that it was due to it being a child of his own species that it felt so surreal. He couldn’t even move.

“Guerin,” That was Kyle’s voice. It was present, not over radio signals. Michael didn’t look over to him. “What’cha got there?”

Eventually, after blinking a few million times, the spell over him was broken. Michael fell back on his ass, carefully pulling the baby into his chest and cradling her close. He had to catch his breath before letting his eyes drift over to see Valenti standing there with nothing short of shock and confusion on his face.

“The fuck’s it look like?” Michael managed before cautiously looking back down to make sure he hadn’t hurt the little alien. She looked fine, kicking her feet aimlessly and gripping onto the wire of walkie talkie. Michael pried it out of her little fist, letting her take hold of his thumb instead.

“Guerin!” Alex’s voice echoed through the tunnel and Michael, who was now firmly in control of his own mind again, felt his heart claw into his throat. He’d scared him. So much for healing their relationship. Alex jogged up to them, coming into view with the light of the dim pod. His chest was heaving and he looked so fucking worried. He spoke before Michael could apologize. “What‒where did you get that?”

“Sorry for scaring you,” Michael said softly, his eyes shifting back down to the baby in his arms.

“Michael,” Alex said slowly, cautiously. His footsteps crunched against the dusty concrete floor. “What is that?”

“Jesus Christ, have neither of you seen a baby before?” he shot back, slowly and carefully taking off the jacket Alex had made him wear to wrap around the little alien.

“We have. We’re more confused on how you went missing for nearly an hour and then we find you with a child that wasn’t with you when we came,” Kyle said as if it should’ve been obvious why they were concerned. Nearly an hour? Had he really been gone that long? It felt like five minutes at most.

“She called to me,” Michael said simply. That was the only way he could describe it, the only way that made sense to him.

“Uh-huh,” Alex’s voice again made him look up. He was closer this time, worry and fear very obvious on his face. What was he so scared of? There was nothing scary about a baby.

“Let me see it,” Kyle said. Overwhelming panic encompassed Michael so quickly and so strongly that he wondered if it was even his.

“No. Why? What are you gonna do to her? She’s mine,” Michael insisted, holding the little alien closer to his chest. Her tiny hand was holding tightly onto Michael’s thumb and he had no intention of prying it off.

Alex and Kyle shared a look before looking back at him. Micahel hated when they did that. It was like they decided they could communicate without speaking. He hated it even more when it was about him.

“Michael, she isn’t yours,” Alex said softly. It felt like a betrayal for some reason. Alex didn’t get it, he didn’t feel it. She was Michael’s, end of discussion.

“Okay, but she’s an alien and who is the only other alien here? Oh, yeah, me, so she’s mine by default,” Michael argued. He didn’t know how to put into words the tie he felt to this little baby he just discovered. It was strong and just clicked in his mind like this was undoubtedly his responsibility. This was his purpose in life. They wouldn’t get it.

They did the whole look-sharing thing again.

“Fine,” Kyle said carefully, “We can take her with us.”

“Of fucking course we’re taking her with us, was there another option?” Michael scoffed, scowling at the doctor who clearly thought he had a say in this. Like Michael would leave her. Absolutely not.

He’d left aliens before. He wasn’t about to do it again.

Kyle just ignored his comment though, “I need to check her out, make sure she’s stable enough to just take straight home.” He started taking steps towards Michael. He very slowly stood up with a nod, hesitantly passing the baby from his arms to Kyle’s.

However, the moment she was out of Michael’s grasp, she started screaming. Her cry was a force to be reckoned with, echoing around the tunnel and bouncing off the walls to make it even louder. Michael felt it in his core.

“Give her back, she doesn’t like you!” Michael snapped, taking her back. He held her little head to his shoulder, glaring at Kyle who held his hands up as a white flag. It was almost comical how quickly her cries subdued whenever Michael held her close again. He might’ve laughed if he wasn’t so focused on the relief he got from the tiny alien relaxing again. “She’s mine.”

Alex moved forward, curiosity in place of fear as he held his hands out. Michael licked his lips as he looked between his baby and Alex. He trusted Alex. Valenti was growing on him, but Alex was the one he’d trust more than literally anyone else in the world. Alex was allowed all his vulnerabilities without a second thought‒if he trusted anyone to take care of the baby, it was Alex. Even if he didn’t get it.

“Okay,” Michael said softly, holding his breath as he carefully passed the baby to Alex’s arms.

Admittedly, she stayed quiet a little longer than she did with Kyle, but, after a few whimpers that made Michael’s heartache, she started crying. Michael grabbed her again, cradling her close and shushing her.

“I don’t like when she cries,” Michael said, trying to explain so Alex would stop looking so hurt, “It feels like when Isobel or Max gets hurt. It, it’s like it hurts me too.” Alex stared at him for a moment with nothing short of worry on his face.

“Is there a rational explanation for that?” Alex asked Kyle, not even trying to be subtle. Michael rocked her, his eyes falling closed as he fed off the peace the baby exuded when she was in his arms.

“Uh, if I had to guess, it’s a whole psychic thing. I… I don’t know why it’s so strong? I don’t know, I’m not an alien expert,” Kyle tried.

“I meant, why does she freak out every time someone other than Michael holds her?” Alex clarified, sounding a little more fed up.

“Oh, I’d say his body temperature. I don’t know exactly how the pod things work, but I’m sure it feels like an incubator. Also, I’m sure the little thing’s used to his species, they’re hotter than us,” Kyle rationalized. Michael opened his eyes again.

“I don’t know, Alex is pretty hot,” Michael commented. Alex’s lips struggled as he tried to fight the incoming smile, cocking his head to the side as he gave his signature Sweet Eyes. Michael had no other way to describe them than that. They were so fond they made him feel gooey, they’d always been his Sweet Eyes.

“Oh, so the baby trance breaks for you to be flirtatious? Why am I not surprised?” Alex said and Michael smiled at him. Maybe they could still be something. He knew adding a baby into the mix made things a little harder, but Michael believed they could still make it. They had to.

“Okay, look, I know we’re all distracted by the whole baby thing and flirting with your ex thing, but I’d like to remind everyone that we’re still in an abandoned prison in a secret tunnel where we found a fucking child,” Kyle said. He had a good point.

It was much faster getting out of Pitlochry than it was getting inside of it, yet the sun was already starting to set which meant they had to have been there for a while. Michael’s internal clock must’ve been completely fucked once he started feeling that pull. That was made more prevalent whenever they all climbed into Alex’s fancy truck and Micahel was suddenly hit with just how tired he actually was. His whole body felt drained and he melted into the seat, the baby firmly against his chest.

Alex drove maybe five minutes before pulling over and forcing Kyle in the driver’s seat and climbing in the back.

“You’re going to drop her if you try to keep sitting up when you’re about to pass the hell out,” Alex said and he didn’t give Michael much of a choice but to lay his head in his lap. Not that he minded. Michael made sure the little alien stayed in his arm, laying all cuddled up between the seats of the car and Michael’s chest and still wrapped in the jacket.

“Oh my god, I can’t get over how cute she is,” Isobel gushed as she lifted the baby from the couch. Michael watched her, struggling to keep his hands to himself and not make sure she didn’t drop her. He knew she wouldn’t, but that didn’t help the anxiety in his chest.

Alex sat beside him and draped his arm over the back of the couch behind him‒that helped.

“Okay, so, her cells look the same as yours, for the most part, I’d say she’s definitely the same species. The only difference is your power source is pretty prevalent in your DNA, but hers... it’s virtually glowing inside of her. Has she shown any signs of any powers?” Liz asked as she walked in from the kitchen. In the 30 minutes since she’d pulled up at the cabin with Max, she’d turned the kitchen into a makeshift lab.

“Other than the whole luring Michael thing, no,” Alex answered.

Liz nodded, “So, she’s psychic?”

“We all are on some level, though,” Max added.

“Okay, well, when did you guys come into your main powers?”

“I’ve had ‘em for as long as I can remember,” Michael said, letting himself lean into Alex’s side just a little. Isobel nodded in agreement.

“Mine was a bit later, like when I was eleven, but the psychic thing was already there,” Max said. Liz nodded thoughtfully, mumbling under her breath as he went back into the kitchen.

“Oh, look at this smile!” Isobel cooed, turning the little alien slightly to show Micahel her smile. It was easily the most contagious thing in the world.

Isobel had been a little later than Max and Liz, but she was carting a few baby essentials including bottles, formula, onesies, and diapers. Micahel was especially thankful for the diapers since his jacket was now completely ruined. However, with some help from Kyle, they had him fed, bathed, and dressed, putting both she and Micahel at ease. It also helped that this happened after Liz had stuck her in the arm with a needle.

“Oh, she’s so soft and lovable! Yes, you are! Yes, you are!” Isobel said, earning happy heavy breathing and gurgling from the baby. A few more baby-talked sentences later, she stood to give her back to Michael. He clearly had it written all over his face how much he wanted to hold her again. It really felt like his baby.

“Hi, baby,” Michael said, trying his hand at baby talk as he brought her back against his chest. Alex snorted.

“She needs a name,” Isobel said, leaning forward. Michael nodded slowly, pursing his lips in thought as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

Before he could even suggest anything, Kyle walked back in the room with Max and they stood in the middle of the room like they had something important to say. Michael doubted they did. He got his confirmation‒the baby was healthy. That’s all he needed to know.

“So, I figure we can all pitch in watching her until I can get in touch with a social worker. She’s young enough that she’ll probably get adopted fast, but‒”

“What are you talking about?” Michael said, sitting up straight as he stared at Kyle in frustrated confusion. The words ‘social worker’ sent a familiar chill down his spine that he’d thought he’d gotten over at least a decade prior. No way that was an option when it came to his baby.

“Micahel, we can’t keep her, she’s not ours to keep,” Max said, that condescending tone dripping from his voice and provoking Michael to have to keep way too much focus in staying calm. “We have to give her to someone who knows how to take care of her.”

“I’m sorry, who said this was your decision to make?” Michael snapped. His was nearly vibrating with anger. How dare they think they could just take her away. What the fuck gave them the right?

“Michael‒”

“Don’t ‘Michael’ me! She’s mine! She isn’t going anywhere!”

“You don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby.”

“So? Does anyone? I’ll learn,” Michael said, scoffing as he shook his head. The baby in his arms clearly seemed to feed off his mood, gradually getting more and more fussy as Michael got more and more pissed. “I’m not having this conversation with you guys, she’s not going anywhere. I don’t understand why you would want her too. I know you guys think you had it great and all, and I’m sure you think you did, but you were still confused and scared of yourselves and scared of other people. And we were older, we knew that we came from pods! She’s too little, she won’t know anything. She’ll just know that she can do things that she shouldn’t, she’ll be terrified and alone. Why should I put her through that, especially when she has someone who wants her? Not only someone who wants her but understands her power and can provide an environment where she can explore that power freely without being scared and trying to hide it. I can give her what we didn’t have! I don’t care if you don’t want to, Max, but I do. I’m not letting you guys try to convince me that she’ll be better off with someone who doesn’t understand her and never will.”

The room was quiet as they stared at him. Though, instead of understanding like it should’ve been, it was just pity. It was as though they weren’t even aware that this baby was going to grow and become like them, become a powerful alien. Yeah, there was a chance she could end up living fine and happy, but there was a bigger chance that she wouldn’t. And at least they had each other‒this baby wouldn’t have anyone. Michael knew what that felt like and, bond or not, he refused to let her go through that.

“Fuck you guys, I’ll figure it out on my own, no need to stress yourselves out,” Michael spat, standing to his feet and heading down the hall to Alex’s room. He couldn’t look at them, not when they all were acting like he was being irrational. He didn’t have it in him to comprehend how wanting to take care of someone who needed it was irrational.

The only thing that calmed him down was the fact that Alex followed him.

“They’ve completely lost it, why would I give her up? She needs me, she needs someone who‒” Michael had to cut himself off when he turned to see Alex’s face didn’t look that much different from the rest of them. Pity and concern. He took a step back.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Alex asked, reaching out to him. Micahel stepped away again. He didn’t even have Alex on his side. Alex, who grew up feeling unwanted, unloved, and undeniably different in a way he couldn’t understand for years, wanted to subject the same fate onto an infant who had someone who wanted her. What the fuck was going on? “You don’t even have a place of your own, how can you take care of a baby?”

It was a low blow, they both knew it. Well, all three of them knew it. It knocked the air from Micahel’s lung and, within seconds, the baby was crying. Michael stared at him, a million different things going through his mind as a way to retaliate but only one stood out and repeated itself. I have enough saved for a new place, I just wanted to be with you, you asshole.

Still, regardless of how much he wanted to throw it in his face, he couldn’t. So Micahel gave a tight, sarcastic smile and leaned closer.

“Don’t worry, Alex, we’ll be out of your life in a few days,” Michael said, pushing past him and heading towards the guest bedroom. It hurt him and he hoped it hurt Alex, even if just a little bit. If anyone understood why he didn’t want to give him up, it should’ve been Alex. But then again, he had spent over a decade thinking that Alex was an exception to many things.

He rarely ever was.

Michael ignored the shakiness in his hands as he shushed the baby in his arms, swallowing back any tears that threatened. He felt stupid for being emotional, he should’ve expected this. Alex never stayed when things got hard and the rest of them thought nothing of him. Why would anyone around him think he was capable of raising a baby? They all thought he was stupid, a lowlife, a good-for-nothing street rat who would never get anywhere and would never care for anyone but himself. But they were wrong and he cared a lot about a lot of people to the point he’d do anything for them and this baby had been added to the list. Why couldn’t they see that?

Michael sniffled louder than he wanted, wiping away a stray tear and pretending it wasn’t over losing Alex all over again.

“It’s okay, baby, we’ll figure it out, it’s just you and me,” Michael said, “That’s all we need.”

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #4.2k word #multichapter #i'll add this to my masterlist later i'm too heckin tired #sorry if i'm missing any tags

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zolusbian · 5 years ago

Text

my year in music (a writing exercise)

1. me and my dog - phoebe bridgers

losing friends and falling in love and one in the same. walking down the small stretch of road from my little house to the warmth of the dining room in which i was a stranger, even after all this time. hands shoved in my pockets and head down. then: laying on the floor of my apartment, doing crunches on an empty stomach. my cat comes and sniffs my face, cold wet nose pushing up against my fleshy cheek, tears rolling down. afterwards i lay there and she licks the salt from my skin. this is an act of love.

2. a burning hill - mitski

crying alone in my car and crying alone in the snow. i redid my wardrobe this year, did you know that? those that know that, they don’t care anymore, you know that.

3. smother - daughter

i want to be a mother, i want to be a mother so badly, i want to carry a being inside of me and i want to birth it, i want to give birth, i want to create, and i am terrified deeply of this. not because of what it will require of me at the beginning, but because of what it will require of me day after day, and i get tired of everything after a while. i want to run and hide after a while.

4. bound 2 - kanye west

i thought i was in love i thought i was in love i really did, and i thought maybe he’d love me too, and -- isn’t that always the story?

5. nobody - mitski

laying in bed with the tears leaking out my eyes and hearing the sounds of people walking down to the bar. copying and pasting the lyrics to this song for a post on my finsta. somebody reporting my finsta for being too dark. mental health helplines, as if they will ever help. i haven’t been going to therapy. the text post that says, mitski makes music for lesbians and straight girls who are trying their damndest to make heterosexuality work for them. at first i don’t get it. and now i do.

6. get bummed out - remember sports

i link the song to my best friend and i say, hey, this song isn’t very good, but it’s just my life at this moment. she doesn’t respond. she shouldn’t respond; i’m being ridiculous.

7. lonesome love - mitski

hey, that was six years ago. are you over it? (no.) sometimes i think life is just me going through and collecting things that i will never get over. or it’s like that one game that people used to play on youtube a long time ago, with the squares and the spikes, the hardest game that made people scream and rage. life is like that. i learn the pattern and i go a little bit farther but i fall in the spikes, i lose, anyway. relationships end in two ways: you break up or you die. well, i have died many deaths, little and big.

8. bitter - chappell roan

i am psychic. i saw the end coming. i went anyway. i walk through the snow and i sing this song under my breath and i think of her. i think she understands, and maybe she does understand, but if you push enough people are going to break. i pushed enough and she broke. lyrics are lies that i tell myself to keep myself going forward because i am pushing myself and i am not breaking, yet, and either i am so strong or i am so weak, there was nothing there to break to begin with.

9. swimming pool - the front bottoms

i wear my heart on my sleeve. i think that i don’t, but i do. or maybe i don’t and i think that i do. i think i know myself i so well, but i can’t read myself at all. being bipolar is like this, you see: you live your life in two states, and when you are stable you feel stateless. makeless. are you staring at me because i’m staring at you? do you know? do i know that you know? do you know that i know? do you feel that i feel? what i feel? i don’t know, i don’t have the answers. life doesn’t have closure. life doesn’t have a last page until it does. life doesn’t have answers. what did it mean, when your friend pushed me into you, when you were chewing your gum and looking down at your shoes? i will never know. i will never know. i will never know. i will, always, think about it, but it’s like everything else. life is just a collection of things that i have to get over, that i will never get over. i saw a movie once, about zombies. the zombies dragged mundane objects, like chairs, and they built mountains out of them. idols. they would all gather around and stare up at these monuments. so enraptured, they would forget that they were zombies, that they were supposed to eat. the reviews couldn’t figure it out. i couldn’t figure it out. i think i’m figuring it out.

10. the sea is a good place to think of the future - los campesions

i like things that are overly specific to the point where they become so relatable to you and only you that you feel connected to the other person in that moment, and this song is it. this song is one of my favorites. i am driving down the highway at night and my friend is beside me. we are talking about our favorite songs. i don’t know any of his, and he doesn’t know any of mine, but this is on the list. that wasn’t in 2019, i shouldn’t have included it, but that was in my senior year of undergraduate, and 2019 included my senior year of undergraduate, and time is fake, anyway, it’s a yardstick we invented to try and make sense of a property otherwise invisible. i want to be a property otherwise invisible. 2019 was the same as all the other years before it and all the other years beyond it, and no matter how i dress myself or hide myself or dress my words and my feelings or hide them or whatever, no matter how many walls i build between myself and the world, it isn’t going to change the fact. behind all those walls, you see, i am a raw, bleeding, bloody red heart. dig deeper and that is all you will find.

#writing #original #origfic

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ezzydean · 5 years ago

Note

“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.” with author's preferred Haru ship :>

You’re getting HaruRei because I love these two and @cattatonically picked Rei for a random character. (under a cut cause it is 1500 words)

“I’m beginning to worry that this pattern is becoming a habit,” Rei says, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his knuckle against his nose.

It’s not like he doesn’t want Haru around. He genuinely enjoys his former Senpai’s company despite the quiet that is often present between them. It’s not an awkward quiet. It’s rather pleasant actually. The problem lies in the fact that the last seven times Haru has come over to his apartment he’s been at work and Haru has let himself in with the key Rei gave him for emergencies, but even then that’s not really the problem. No the problem is that Haru has only come over after 1) a bad date or 2) breaking up with his current partner and his way of coping with that is, for some reason, curling up in Rei’s bed and eating whatever little bit of junk food Rei has stashed away in his cupboards.

Haru mumbles something. Rei is pretty sure it’s literally just a noise not actual words because Haru doesn’t even wait for Rei’s response before burying his head further under Rei’s pillows.

He pulls off his work clothes and tosses them into the hamper before digging out a pair of track pants.

“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed,” he says to the lump of blankets on his bed. He tugs his socks off and throws them in the hamper as well. When there’s no response by the time he picks a shirt to wear he sighs. “And the only snacks left in my cupboards were actually Nagisa’s. So unless you brought your own this time you owe him a new package of whatever you just smushed into my bed sheets.”

He lets the words sink in as he leaves the bedroom and heads to the kitchen to see what leftovers he had in the fridge. He thinks there might be some curry in there that’s still fairly fresh. He really needs to clean out his fridge but the double shifts at work have been exhausting lately and, honestly? His fridge and whatever sentient life might be trying to grow in the back of it are the least of his concerns.

He opens the fridge and stares into it for a moment. “Wait am I on call this weekend,” he mutters as he grabs wha he thinks is the curry. A delicate sniff informs him that no this is not the curry and whatever it is probably isn’t edible. He puts the container back and grabs the one next to it. That one, thankfully, is curry from two nights before and he digs into it immediately.

“You’re not on call this weekend and I cannot believe I am seeing you eating that with my own two eyes.” Rei glances over at Haru in the doorway and shakes his head.

“You are standing in my kitchen, wearing my pajama top over a pair of your boxers and nothing else, with my flat sheet wrapped around you like a cape and what looks like the remains of Nagisa’s milk bread smeared on your cheek,” he says around bites of his curry. “You’re in no position to judge me Haru-san.”

“Ugh drop the -san,” Haru grumbles. “And I wouldn’t have to eat Nagisa’s snacks if you just had food here.”

“I’ve been working 55 hour weeks the last month. I barely have time to sleep and do laundry lately. If you want food so badly then bring your own.”

Haru huffs at him and shuffles out of the kitchen. Rei finishes his curry and finds Haru crashed back on his bed. He sets his glasses on his dresser and falls into the empty space next to Haru.

—

It’s been three and a half weeks since the last time Rei came home to Haru invading his apartment. He’s expecting Haru there. Nagisa sent him a text about Haru’s latest dating disaster and Rei is prepared to sleep in crumbs for a night before he manages to change out his sheets in the morning. So to say that he’s surprised to see Haru sitting on his kitchen counter idly stirring a pot on the stove and munching on an apple is an understatement.

“Why aren’t you in my bed?” It’s maybe not the most appropriate thing to say but he’s slept five hours in the last two days and his brain is already on weekend mode. And he’s said far worse over the years he’s sure.

Haru’s cheeks flush a little, embarrassment Rei assumes, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just finishing some soup if you want some,” he mutters. Then he takes a crunching bite of his apple and stares down into the pot.

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

Rei changes out of his work clothes and falls asleep next to Haru on clean sheets.

—

“Hey Rei-chan?”

Rei rolls his head along the back of Nagisa’s couch so he can look at him.

“Yes?”

“Do you think Haru-chan realizes he can’t find a relationship because he wants to date you?”

Rei is too tired to do more than let out an ugly snort as he closes his eyes. “No, Nagisa. I don’t think he does,” he answers softly as he falls asleep.

—

“I don’t know how I feel about being in Rei’s apartment when no one is,” Momo says to himself. “I mean I have keys and he told me to let myself in. But still.” He sets the bags of groceries and supplies on Rei’s counter. He had a couple hours to kill before Rei got back and they started getting ready for the rest of their friends to come over later.

“Why are you talking to yourself?”

Momo yelps and spins around, nearly spilling the armload of drinks he had just grabbed to put in the fridge.

“What the hell,” he whines. “Rei didn’t say anything about his boyfriend being here.”

Haru scoffs at him. “I am not Rei’s boyfriend.”

“Except you kinda are.” The drinks are in the fridge and he moves to unpack the back of snacks.

“I’m not.”

“Fine you wish you were.”

“I-” Haru’s mouth hangs open for a moment before he snaps it shut. “No.”

Momo puts the rest of the groceries away and leans against the counter. Haru is standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest defensively, and glaring at Momo. Oh. Oh Haru hasn’t realized it yet. Momo just figured that Haru and Rei were being quiet about their relationship. But no. Haru still hasn’t figured out that the reason that every date and relationship he’s had for the last ten months has failed is because he wants to be dating Rei.

Oh this was wonderful.

“Nanase,” Momo says as seriously as he can. Haru tenses in the doorway and for a moment Momo is sure he’s going to run away. But he just glares harder at Momo so he continues. “You have basically been hardcore dating Rei for the last three months. And the two or so months before you were practically courting him. Another month and I’m pretty sure you might as well just cancel your lease at your own apartment when it comes up because this is clearly where you want to be.”

“I’m not-”

“Nagisa knows it. I know it. Hell I’m pretty sure my brother knows it.”

“Rei?” Haru asks cautiously. Like Momo’s answer is going to make or break him. Maybe he’s not as clueless as Momo thought.

“Oh Rei definitely knows it. He’s known it for about six months. He’s just waiting for you to realize what you want.”

Haru gives him one last glare and wanders back down the hallway. Momo can’t wait to see what happens tonight.

—

“Are you eating a plate of mackerel in my bed Haru?”

“I’m eating mackerel and rice actually. Would you like a bite?”

Rei sighs and drops onto the bed next to Haru. They have a little bit of time before the others show up and Momo has taken over his bathroom so he doesn’t have anything else to do.

“Why not,” he says resignedly. Haru feeds him a bite and he hums in thanks. “Do I dare ask why you are eating rice and mackerel in my bed? Don’t you usually just stick to crunchy snacks that leave crumbs all over when you’re heartbroken?”

“Oh. I’m not heartbroken,” Haru replies. “Actually I just found out apparently I’ve been in a relationship for almost six months and never realized it.”

Rei glances over, takes in Haru’s soft smile, and laughs.

“I was wondering when you’d realize. I thought maybe I’d have to give in to Nagisa’s demands for an intervention.”

Haru’s cheeks flush and Rei can only watch, fascinated by the color. “Well Momo kind of clued me in,” he admits.

Rei nudges Haru’s knee and nods to the plate. Haru feeds him another bite and they settle against each other, content in each other’s silence. And just like that everything is settled into place between them. As easy as they have always been with each other.

#free!#harurei #nanase haruka #ryuugazaki rei #harurei fic #free! writing #this ship is precious to me #prompt #iamkatsudone

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