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erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years ago

Text

Tender

Jiang Cheng can feel his pulse pounding behind his eyes. He has been stressed more than normally at work, with how his father simply keeps unloading all of his own work on to Jiang Cheng, without caring if he can manage it or not, and with the headache Jiang Cheng’s mood has plummeted like it hasn’t in a long time.

He snaps at everyone who steps foot into his office that day and in the end his father comes by to specifically tell him very sternly that he’s more than disappointed with Jiang Cheng and that he expects a better behaviour on the next day.

Jiang Cheng has half a mind snapping at him, too, but in the end he clenches his jaw and simply nods.

His father leaves without another look back and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually feel like putting in over-time that day, so he simply gathers his things and leaves.

His mood doesn’t magically improve when he comes home, even though Thyme and Garlic weave around his feet as if it’s their sole purpose to make him feel better, but the headache only marginally lessens.

Jiang Cheng is pretty sure that it’s about to be a full on migraine and he couldn’t care less for that. He hopes he can get it under control somehow before it makes thinking too hard.

Jiang Cheng decides to go to bed early that day—maybe sleeping it off will help him—but before he goes to sleep he has to give Garlic and Thyme their treats. It’s not their fault that he’s in a bad mood, after all.

They come running as soon as they hear him opening the cupboard and Jiang Cheng gives one treat to each of them, before he relocates to the living-room to make them work for it.

Everything is fine in one second, and in the next Thyme is making a noise as she staggers around on three legs.

“Thyme? Baby?” Jiang Cheng tries, and watches in helpless horror as Thyme walks backwards, not putting any weight on her left front paw, before she hides under the table.

She only stays there for a moment though, before she retreats into a safer corner, and Jiang Cheng already fears the worst.

She does take the offered treats, but she doesn’t come out and Jiang Cheng still sees her favouring her left front paw.

“What happened?” he asks and carefully takes the paw in his hand, but Thyme pulls it back and then curls around it.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes start to burn, because it’s clear that Thyme is hurt, even though he has no clue how it happened, and he doesn’t know what to do.

It’s late already, and he’s not sure if this warrants a trip to the emergency vet or not, and so he decides to wait.

Thyme is skittish but she does leave her hiding spot at one point and limps through the apartment. She eats and she jumps up on several high places, even though she doesn’t seem to know how she’s supposed to get down from them again and every time that happens, Jiang Cheng bursts into tears again.

It’s objectively not that bad; Thyme lets him touch her and her hurt paw, and she is still moving, albeit carefully, and she’s even eating and purring when he picks her up, so it simply cannot be that bad, but when she walks it’s clear she’s in pain and Jiang Cheng hates to see it.

And with how his day has been going, he really can’t help himself but to cry as he watches her limp around, because he is honestly in no emotional state to deal with this.

Jiang Cheng decides to check on her during the night a few times and then call the vet first thing in the morning and he does feel a little bit better with that decision, but it still doesn’t help the tears that are still flowing down his cheeks.

He just hopes his headache doesn’t get worse.

~*~*~

His headache of course does get worse, and Thyme doesn’t get magically better over night. He slept like shit, jerking awake at every sound in fear it’s Thyme and that she’s in more pain now, but she mostly slept on his stomach that night.

Her limp is more pronounced in the morning—as is Jiang Cheng’s headache—and so he calls the vet as soon as he can.

They tell him to come in at noon and Jiang Cheng decides to sleep his headache off until then.

He swallows two painkillers and goes back to bed, but when his alarm goes off, his headache turned into a full blown migraine and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do.

He is always nervous when he has to drive with Garlic and Thyme in the car—worried that he’ll have an accident and get them hurt—and he doesn’t trust himself to drive with the steady pounding behind his eyes at all, but he needs to get to the vet to get Thyme some treatment and he doesn’t know what to do.

He’s in too much pain to even think about being ashamed when he bursts out into tears again, and there is only one place he can think of to go.

So he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door.

“Holy shit, what’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang greets him with when he opens the door and it only prompts Jiang Cheng to cry harder.

“I need help,” he cries out and Nie Huaisang is nodding before Jiang Cheng even says anything else.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Thyme is hurt, but I can’t drive like this, but I have to be at the vet soon and I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry about this, but can you drive me?” he gets out between his tears and his heart falls when Nie Huaisang grimaces.

So he doesn’t have time, that’s just Jiang Cheng’s luck.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang yells into his apartment and Jiang Cheng’s eyes get big.

“What are you doing?” he hisses through his tears, his heart already beating faster and this confused state is no help at all with the tears or his headache.

“I have a meeting in half an hour, but da-ge has the day off. He will drive you,” Nie Huaisang resolutely says and Jiang Cheng shakes his head but stops when that only makes it worse.

Nie Huaisang knows that he has the worst crush on Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually want Nie Mingjue to see him like this.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue suddenly asks and his eyes go wide when he sees Jiang Cheng. “What’s wrong?” he asks more frantically. “What do you need?”

“His cat is hurt and he needs a lift to the vet,” Nie Huaisang sums it all up for Jiang Cheng, and Nie Mingjue nods before he finishes.

“Of course,” he agrees and honestly, Jiang Cheng is too relieved to feel much shame at all in that moment.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I can’t drive like this and Thyme is limping and I don’t know why and I just need to get to the vet,” Jiang Cheng rushes out and he only relaxes when Nie Mingjue puts a steadying hand to his shoulder.

“Breathe, Wanyin. Of course I’ll drive you.”

“Did you call in to work?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng goes cold with horror.

He completely forgot about that.

“Don’t panic!” Nie Huaisang rushes out, clearly able to read Jiang Cheng’s face. “I’ll call Wei Wuxian and he can just pretend you told him this morning and he simply forgot to tell your father. Jiang Fengmian will believe that,” Nie Huaisang says with a nod and Jiang Cheng has to admit that it might work.

“Alright,” Nie Mingjue says. “You go do that. Wanyin, did you get Thyme into her carrier already?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“We’ll do that first then,” Nie Mingjue decides and gently pushes Jiang Cheng towards his own apartment. “I’ll gather my things, and you try to get her in there, okay? Can you do that?” he softly asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

Thyme is limping and in no state to run away from him. He’ll just be able to pick her up and put her in, no problem at all. He can do that.

And he does, with minimal fuss even, and he’s kind of glad it’s Thyme and not Garlic who needs to go to the vet. He would be bleeding all over if it was Garlic, he knows that from experience.

By the time Nie Mingjue knocks at his door, Jiang Cheng is ready to go with Thyme in her carrier.

“Alright then,” Nie Mingjue says and carefully picks up the carrier, waving Jiang Cheng off when he moves forward to carry her himself. “You’ll need to give me the address to the vet.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng mumbles and then his eyes start to burn again. “I’m really so sorry to bother you,” he chokes out yet again, because he cannot believe that this is his life today and he really doesn’t know how to deal with any of this.

“You’re not a bother, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue reassuringly tells him. “I’m happy to help you.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually know what to say to that and so he stays silent as he allows Nie Mingjue to lead him towards his car.

“No,” Jiang Cheng rushes out when he sees that. “We can take my car. You don’t have to take yours.”

“Of course we’ll take mine, come on,” Nie Mingjue gives back and doesn’t allow Jiang Cheng to argue about this.

Before he knows it, he’s already in the back of the car, Thyme’s carrier carefully buckled in and Nie Mingjue is driving, following the instructions of the navigation system.

The drive is a silent one, mostly because Jiang Cheng is still in too much pain to hold a decent conversation and Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind that at all.

“We’re here,” is the first thing he says during the ride and Jiang Cheng looks out of the car window.

They have arrived, but what Jiang Cheng mostly notices is that there’s no free parking space for them.

Nie Mingjue seems to realize that in the same moment.

“Do you have my number?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head in confusion.

“I’ll tell Huaisang to send it to you. I’ll park somewhere else and you’ll just call me when you’re done so I can pick you up again,” he decides and Jiang Cheng never knows how to deal with kindness, but especially not today.

“You really don’t have to,” he chokes out, his eyes dangerously watery again, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“Of course I do,” he easily gives back and Jiang Cheng can do nothing but nod.

“Fine,” he agrees and gets out of the car when Nie Mingjue pulls up at the side. “I’ll call you,” Jiang Cheng says as he takes the carrier out of the car as well and Nie Mingjue gives him a thumbs up.

“I bet it’s not that bad, Wanyin. She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Jiang Cheng mutters and then closes the door before he steps into the vet clinic.

He doesn’t have to wait long and everyone is kind enough not to mention the more than obvious tear tracks on his face for which Jiang Cheng is grateful.

He gets a text a few minutes after Nie Mingjue dropped him off; it’s Nie Huaisang forwarding him his brother’s contact details and Jiang Cheng tries to ignore the flutter of his heart as he saves the number in his phone.

This was not how he ever imagined to get this number, but he’s not going to complain about it. Not that he’s ever going to use it beyond this day, either, but before Jiang Cheng can delve too deeply into that spiral, the vet calls him in to tell him the diagnosis.

It’s stupidity. Thyme got diagnosed with stupidity.

She actually has a sprained paw, but since it happened on plain ground in the apartment Jiang Cheng has lived in for more than two years already, it cannot be anything else but stupidity.

The vet doesn’t even do anything besides giving him some pain meds for Thyme that she’s supposed to get once a day.

Jiang Cheng can’t believe this.

He’s out of the clinic before he realizes it, and dialling Nie Mingjue’s number.

“Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue greets him with and Jiang Cheng hums.

“We’re done,” he tells him.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

It doesn’t take Nie Mingjue more than two to come and pick Jiang Cheng and Thyme up and he seems to realize that Thyme is not seriously injured because he smiles at Jiang Cheng.

“It’s not so bad?”

“It depends,” Jiang Cheng says with a frown at Thyme. “It’s just a sprained paw, but what’s really worse is that she’s too stupid to walk straight without getting injured,” Jiang Cheng says and his stomach does a funny thing when Nie Mingjue laughs at that.

Jiang Cheng settles into the back of the car again, wanting to be close to Thyme who doesn’t seem as stressed out as she normally is, and now that all the worry about her finally falls off him, Jiang Cheng’s migraine comes back with a vengeance.

He groans softly and closes his eyes, and he must have drifted off because the next thing he knows is that they are back at their house.

“You alright?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng jerks with the question, which causes him to let out a painful groan. “Do you have painkillers at home?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods, even though he doesn’t think he should take any more today.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng whispers as he climbs out of the car, Thyme’s carrier in one hand. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“No problem at all,” he promises him and then leads Jiang Cheng to his door.

“Did you eat today?” Nie Mingjue asks as Jiang Cheng fumbles with the key and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

He was too worried to even think about eating, and with his migraine he doesn’t think he’s about to change that now.

“Let me make something light for you. You have to eat at least a little bit,” Nie Mingjue says, and walks into Jiang Cheng’s apartment before he can protest.

Garlic meets them at the door, clearly anxious to have Thyme with him again and Jiang Cheng is quick to get Thyme out of the carrier.

She’s still limping and Jiang Cheng remembers the pain meds the vet gave him. It’s probably time to give that to her.

It’s a liquid painkiller and getting it into Thyme is easier than Jiang Cheng feared it would be and soon enough she’s limping away from him, clearly eager to hide and rest for a while.

Jiang Cheng watches after her and he can’t help the relieved laugh he lets out because besides some stupidity there’s nothing wrong with his cat.

“Hey, she’s alright,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says from behind him and tugs him around with a hand on his shoulder. “She’s fine.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng sobs out. “She’s just stupid,” he mutters and then he leans forward to rest his forehead on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. “I cannot believe she was diagnosed with stupidity,” he says again, because really.

She’s a cat, for heaven’s sake. How she can sprain her paw while walking is beyond Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng lets out a relieved giggle and he’s aware that the events of the last few hours are all catching up to him now, but he can’t help it.

And Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind at all, seeing as he’s currently pressing a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng whispers, but he doesn’t dare to move in fear that Nie Mingjue will stop and never do it again.

“You’re exhausted,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering him. “Come eat something and then go to bed. You need some rest.”

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks as he pulls away from Nie Mingjue and he’s not prepared for the tender look on his face.

“And when you’re feeling better, let me take you out for dinner. On a date.”

Jiang Cheng blushes at that—which really only makes his migraine worse—but he nods.

“I would like that,” he admits and Nie Mingjue cups his face in one hand and presses another kiss to his forehead.

“Good. But now food and rest. Clearly you need both,” he decides and Jiang Cheng allows Nie Mingjue to guide him towards the kitchen, were a simple congee is waiting for him.

He does get drowsy after he ate—not even the migraine enough to keep him up anymore—and he’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

When he wakes up, Nie Mingjue is gone, and Jiang Cheng would chalk it off to a particularly vivid dream, but when he picks up his phone there’s a message waiting for him.

Barring any more cat emergencies, dinner is still on if you want. Call me when you feel better.

Jiang Cheng immediately dials his number, because he does feel very good. Especially about going to dinner with Nie Mingjue.

Yes, believe it or not, my cat got this very diagnosis today. A sprained paw out of pure stupidity. The only difference is that I didn't have a migraine, but also no Nie Mingjue :(

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #cats #modern au #getting together #jc really does not have it easy that day

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ignisnocturnalia · 4 years ago

Text

I think I've figured out how I want to write these (Exposition/mini story, when relationship is established HCs actually start) based on a previous statement I made, also ANOTHER REQUEST! All headcanons are placed at the back of the story part. Let's get this ball rolling!

Crow x Reader

"Now, if he ever flies too far from the nest?" Spider leans forward, "Boom." Your stomach made a flip at the kingpin's explanation, and you've never been more uncomfortable to have your Ghost out in the open. Some part of your mind is saying 'Who cares? That's the man that killed Cayde', but another half is saying 'He has no idea. It isn't fair to judge him for something he can't remember'.

That meeting had happened an hour ago and you couldn't get his dumb gray face out of your head. He looked so.. sad. Regardless, having a Ghost rigged with explosives did not sit right with you at all. Spider wanted you to help him with his Wrathborn problem? Sure, alright. When all of this was over, you knew exactly what you wanted your payment to be.

One large change about the new light that you've found impossible to ignore is diminutive he is. His commentary after successful hunts and small chats after a lure upgrade is administered are curt. Even more surprising is his willingness to present mercy to the corrupted Fallen. He is nothing like Uldren.

Acknowledging this division between his past and present self is when you start to realize that you like working with him. A lot. Probably more than just work, but will you admit it? No. Besides, you tell yourself, he really doesn't look like he's searching for a relationship while figuring himself out.

Petra often asks why you've taken to visiting the Tangled Shore so frequently now, and everytime you scramble to spit out an answer, something stupid like "Spider has a good deal running right now". In some part, it's true, since when you're not hunting Wrathborn you're showing Crow how to do Guardian stuff and explaining Last City life to him. His calm and curious demeanor is extremely cute, and the velvet sound of his voice does not help.

When Spider has both of you run point on a mission you always look to the rafters of the building to try and see him or listen for his steps. He's annoyingly good at stealth. The only time you ever had to be stealthy was in the Gorgon's lair and the Pleasure Gardens. You wish you could speak to him unfiltered; if Spider ever discovered your crush he wouldn't let you hear or see the end of it.

As the months dragged on and you came closer to catching the High Celebrant, you caught yourself anxiously wondering what lie at the end of it all. What if Spider didn't let you take him? And if he did, would Crow stay with you or do his own thing? Greedy little thoughts ran through your head as you thought of all the times you shared together, both of you visibly happy in your eyes.

As much as you'd like to live a runaway life with him and hope he felt the same, you knew it was wrong. He'd get restless, and you'd start fighting. Whatever he chose to do, is what you would let him do. Osiris has taken notice of your feelings, and the knowing glances he gives when no one else is looking sets your face on fire, acting like he doesn't have a thing for Saint always writing those letters when he's on death's doorstep; dramatic is what you say.

Soon enough, all of your close friends can tell you like someone, but they simply can't figure out who. Ironically, the day you work up enough courage to ask him to be your partner is the same day he pins the location of the High Celebrant. The morning is tense, and just getting ready for the big fight is sending energy through your body. Crow, on the other hand, seems much more grim. It makes sense, really; you're the one who's been slaying gods over the years.

You're guard is quickly brought up when Spider summons you for a talk in the main room. You listen to his next words with a fierce intensity.

"Do not let him so close, or spoil him with pretty dreams. Kill the High Celebrant. Break Xivu Arath's hold over my Shore, and you can claim any prise in my lair as your reward. You'll have earned it."

Hiding a smile, you nod and make your way to disembark on your mission; looks like you won't have to ask.

The Dreaming City was as mystical as ever, and you vaguely wondered if Petra had seen you come in. Making quick work of the scarce Hive, you found yourself in Harbinger's Seclude. The massive Cryptolith was impossible to miss, and a full body shiver racked you as you approached it. This was it.

Stabbing the lure into the roots, Crow's voice filled your comm channel.

"Ha! Tagged it! It's bleeding energy and on its way back to you." Your heart jumped at his excited tone. Nobody had any business being that cute. The trademark screech of a Hive portal drowned out all noise, and your next big fight ensued.

The next period of time was spent chasing the Celebrant through realms, until, that is, it sealed the last portal. Osiris had given weak condolences, but you weren't going to give up on Crow. Not today! The blight high above you twinkled teasingly as frustrated tears swam over your eyes as you attempted scrambling up the large Awoken statue, just barely missing the hand and falling back to the ground uselessly.

The silence was becoming overwhelming, deafening, even. Osiris continued to tell you to return to fight another day, but he was too important for you to just leave behind.

"Maybe there's enough Hive magic left in the lure to find another way through!" For once, your Ghost didn't parrot the obvious; you almost wanted to kiss him. Turning around with a new fire, you thrusted your lure into the crystalline floor over the last trace of the High Celebrant's blood. Sure enough, platforms much like those of the Dreadnaught revealed themselves over the edge of the bridge.

You wasted no time, racing over every gap and closing in on the blight. Palpitations overtook your heart when Crow's voice returned to the feed, spewing some kind of death message. Death wouldn't take him. Especially not if you had anything to say about it.

Jumping through the portal, you recognize the bitter feelings of anguish. This is exactly how you felt when Sundance's light washed over the Prison of Elders. Not again.

By the time you see the High Celebrant, all you're seeing is red. Faintly, you remember how Drifter said the Hive in the system were scared of you; good. They should be.

Bullets fly and the ether sings with each corrupted Fallen whose head flies by your gun. If you weren't so pressed for time, you would've strangled the Wizard that had your sought after stolen Light. Standing in the pool of green magic, you turn a furious glare on to the Celebrant and unload your heavy straight into its bony head. Something inside of you lurched in desperation to finish the kill when it summons a portal, trying to make for a retreat and trapping you at the center of the room.

"Crow! The portal!"

"I see it! Now finish it!" Just as he says those words, the trap falls and the portal across the room implodes, sending the High Celebrant to its knees. Your body erupts with power as you descend upon the Hive that killed Sagira and nearly killed Crow, sending it off with your super into the abyss.

Heaving a sigh, your brain finally has a chance to clear with no more present danger. In fact, your chest swells with affection as your Ghost confidently speaks of his trust in Crow followed by his reply.

"It's been an honor, Guardian."

Finally leaving the location, Celebrant head included, you decide to sleep on your short trip back. Your Ghost wakes you up before you land, and when you transmat your eyes immediately fall on Crow, who is safe and sound. Behind your helmet, you smile wearily at the former prince.

The moment you step into the Spider's lair, the air is thick with tension. You can tell the kingpin is pleased to have the Shore cleansed of Hive corruption, but also upset that he has to give up one of his prizes.

"It's done." You say firmly.

"So it is... so it is," he leans forward in his seat with a leer, "All right, Guardian. As promised, you can have a prized bauble from my lair as compensation for your... heroics." The last word rolls off his tongue with a quiet distaste, and you have no problem returning the feeling.

"I want... him." Jerking your head in Crow's direction, you can feel the energy crack through the room.

"Cute. Real funny." Your brows crease in impatience at his dismissive snicker.

"You said anything in the room." You do your best to keep your eyes off of Crow; a distraction now could be bad news. Spider lets out a terrible laugh as his guards step forward, readying their spears.

"Oh... You really want my little bird," he puts an uncomfortable amount of importance on the words "really want", "Fine. You can have him." The large Fallen turns his gaze to Crow, mockingly waving his arm upward.

"Fly away," he looks back down at you, "and get the hell out of my lair."

No further instruction is needed as you and Crow make your leave. As you exit the safehouse, both Glint and your Ghost come out.

"Now what?" Glint looks to Crow for an answer. The reality of the event settles on the Awoken, and he looks at you in a way he hasn't before.

"Why would you do this for us?"

As a formality, you've never taken off your helmet around Crow. He'd never seen, or even had an idea about your face, until... now. The tear streaks from the mission are still on your face, slightly visible in the dim light. Walking over to him, you slowly bring your eyes up to his. He doesn't move away, but you do notice with a flash of hope that a blush is starting to grace his cheeks at your proximity. Clenching your eyes shut, you close the gap between you two and press a kiss to his lips.

He freezes for a moment before placing his hands on your shoulders, and you pull back afraid that you've just made the wrong move.

"I... uh." His eyes dart here and there before settling back on yours. His face straightens out, and then he hesitantly leans forward into your range again. This time, he's the one kissing you.

Both of you leave the Tangled Shore together.

Relationship HCs

He never fails to pick you up during your special brand of greeting, which is running straight at him and jumping into his arms. You even do the little spin around like those movie couples

He's okay with subtle PDA like handholding, but nothing too extreme such as kissing in front of others; he prefers to keep more intimate moments between you and him

Surprisingly eager for cuddles with you at the end of the day

He will let you indulge yourself by doing stupid things every once in a while, like seeing how much whipped cream you can put in his mouth before he can't take anymore

There are times when you just talk about random stuff because he knows you like the sound of his voice

He usually has to calm you down whenever another Guardian stares too long. You see it as a threat, and you're ready to defend your glowing boyfriend with your life

When you're not busy with Vanguard tasks, you're bringing him to the planets that weren't swallowed by the Darkness and showing him the layout, along with whatever endemic life is present

He becomes enamored with Earth's crows, which you had expected

Whenever he has visions of his past, he'll tell you and you do your best to fill in with rudimentary details such as location or time; you hope he never remembers the moment when you had to kill him

You especially love playing with his hair, it's nearly softer than silk and you are intrigued by the white streaks at the front of his cut

Both of you will decide to sit down every once in a while and just touch each other's face; you prefer running your hands along his jawline and cheekbones while he'll brush just under your eyes and along your temples

Dates can range from a quiet, romantic dinner to hunting down large and difficult quarry

Whenever you find a Golden Age waltz piece, you bring it to him and give it a listen; these sessions always end with you two dancing and swaying with each other

Truly, a couple of many talents

NSFW 👁👄👁

The first time you get anywhere close to the act he's so unsure of himself you both stop and instead explore each other at the surface level

No matter how many times he sees you nude his face is a blushing mess everytime

The first few times you take the lead, but once you both get over the fact that you've exchanged pleasantries he's the one who figures out he likes to be dominant in bed

He's vocal to an extent, mostly heavy breathing/moaning and grunts to let you know exactly how good you feel

He's super into bondage (who would've known?) whenever you're the one tying him up

He always prefers the ability to see your face, and whether it's because he can see your face contort in pleasure or because he can lock with you in a heated kiss, you can't tell

His sides are usually ticklish, but they act more like erogenous zones when both of you are deep into it

He starts out rough since he isn't used to this kind of activity at all, but over time he finds a balance between being gentle and absolutely blowing your back out

He's likely to caress your arms and waist the whole time to add another sensitive layer to your already overstimulated body

He also likes draping his body over yours, and with how hot his chest is and the press of his lower body? You're not arguing

Once you finish, he either goes straight to sleep while huddling against you or you convince him to get up so you can shower together

I have 2 asks for Drifter HCs, but I'm implementing a personal/request system so I can keep my monsterfucker train going. The next HCs I'm releasing are for Nokris, then I'll do Drifter HCs, and for now my last personal writing will be for Ghaul

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #crow x reader #destiny spider #osiris #saint 14 #cayde6 #uldren sov #destiny crow #petra venj #xivu arath

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stillness-in-green · 3 years ago

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MVA In Memoriam (3/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party)

Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade

Chapter 229 – All It Takes Is One Bad Day

• The full first page, of Jin getting mobbed by Puppet!Jins, them tearing his mask off, and flinging it and then him away. Saved them a bit of budget, I suppose, but it’s a shame to lose the drama and the violence of Twice having his mask pulled away, since it’s decent foreshadowing (indeed, possibly intentionally so, on Skeptic’s part) for the violent bewilderment he’ll be subject to shortly.

• Re-Destro’s line, “Not when he’s using his meta-ability to puppeteer, unless you want another nagging lecture.” They didn’t keep the first nagging lecture, so of course they wouldn’t keep this. I’m still annoyed, both on general principle and at the loss of RD’s implication that these nagging lectures are a regular occurrence, especially if one tries to bother Skeptic when he’s using his meta-ability. Has RD himself been on the receiving end of one? Possibly so! But you’d be less likely to think so just from the anime.

• Re-Destro’s line, “This allowed our warriors to momentarily hold back and stay out of danger.” Because why would the audience need to know that Skeptic planned for and Re-Destro cares enough to observe something like that lol?? Obviously the MLA is perfectly content to just throw their peoples’ lives away because, whatever, more where that came from! Dammit, anime, the fandom believes this enough as it is without confirmation bias from your cuts!

• Skeptic’s “fufufu” laugh, because the anime is allergic to the MLA having fun.

• The police officer’s line, “Sure, but in a case like this, you’re still to blame.” The rest of the exchange hints at it, of course, but there’s a horrifying callousness to a police officer just saying straight to the face of a teenaged orphan facing his first offense, “Yes, you were obeying the law perfectly and this guy just ran out in front of you, but it’s going on your criminal record anyway, whatever.” A weight the anime lost, and another that makes me very suspicious of the patterns behind what, precisely, was put on the chopping block.[1]

• Jin’s narration, “That police officer couldn’t have known. Me neither.” Demonstrates that Jin doesn’t really hold his fall against the one policeman. It’s a consistent thread with Jin’s character that, while he’s very jaded, he’s not actually vengeful, nor is he looking to enact systemic change. While he’s very defensive of his friends, people who hurt Jin himself are never in any real danger of him coming to collect his pound of flesh in return; he just rolls with it as part of how the world works, in the way of someone who was never given reason to believe any different. This line is a good example of that.

• From Jin’s old employer’s angry rant, deletes the note that the client that called is angry, and that the client said, “That young punk of yours did this!” It’s nothing that wasn’t obvious from the rest of the conversation, but I do I think cutting it loses a sense that this guy is just unloading all of his frustration and fear on Jin. The length of the screed, the extra details—it clearly communicates that Jin’s boss is so angry and upset he’s not paying any real mind to filtering, but just recounting every point of contention the moment they come into his mind.

• In modern society, when you’re someone without roots… Well, not a lot of people can relate to that.” It isn’t just the police that failed Jin; it’s a whole society that’s distrustful of people who don’t have a place in the fabric, and thus are unwilling to try and bring them into it. Like Tenko, there are a thousand little places where someone could have reached out a hand, but no one ever did. The audience can intuit this, but I feel it’s better to be clear about it—it’s not just the legal system that screwed Jin over; it’s every other person that never tried to help him because they were afraid of his eyes or distrusted a guy who had no connections. When Shigaraki comes, he’s not going to be coming for heroes alone; he’ll be coming for this entire tapestry of indifference and timidity.

• Skeptic’s lines, “Hrm? Fighting back? I was sure he’d either flee or cower in place... We didn’t anticipate such unity between them.” This gets at two things. Firstly, and once again, that the MLA did their research; that they came into this with educated expectations and a definite plan. Secondly, an in-character observation of what the arc has been showing the audience all along: that the League isn’t just a disparate gang of hoodlums anymore; that they’re developing real bonds. Those bonds mark them as unusual—Re-Destro comments on it in 223, as did Overhaul in 147; even Mr. Compress remarks disapprovingly on Twice’s “habit” of getting overly attached to people. It’s striking that, even though the MLA knew from Giran’s records that the League was uncommonly well-bonded, Twice’s devotion still fell outside Skeptic’s parameters.[2]

• Again Skeptic’s line, “Now his legs.” The drones don’t actually get this far (though you can see them gearing up for it on the next page), so it’s a reasonable enough cut, but it does emphasize the ludicrous, over-the-top extremes Skeptic in particular is willing to go to in securing what he wants. If, you know, “Kidnap the doubler so we have a method to make copies of the Grand Commander at our leisure,” wasn’t bonkers enough.

• Twice’s line, “Even against Gigantomachia!” It really highlights just how much mental energy Twice has been dedicating to avoiding injury, that he was able to keep it in mind even fighting a foe as overwhelming, and for as extended a period, as Machia. And like, the anime blitzed over the Machia fight so quickly, and with so little visible wear and tear to the League, that it really could have used all the reminders it could find room for about how intense those six weeks were.

• Twice’s line, “I won’t watch a friend die!” Such an important line that the composer named an entire track for it, not that the anime gave us that track in the moment it was clearly scored for. They added in a new line later in the scene which mostly gets the important sentiments back in, but loses out in being slightly less fitting to his breakthrough. See the Additions portion of the write-up on Chapter 230, following.

Framing Shifts

• The policeman in Jin’s flashback looked up at him in the anime, where in the manga, his eyes stay down on his paperwork the entire time. I realize that anime can’t just still-frame every panel of a manga and call it an adaptation,[3] so characters will do things like move and look around in different directions just in the course of inhabiting a room, Still, in this case, it has the effect of making the officer look more alert and engaged than he was in the manga, and given that this whole chunk of backstory is about Jin slipping through the social safety net, it feels appropriate to me that the officer should be completely checked out.

Additions

• A new shot of Jin(s) in his pre-massacre doppelganger army days. Didn’t tell us anything we don’t already know—it’s little more than a new angle of the gang in the truck—but it was nice to see.

Bonus Note

• They left Re-Destro’s phrase, “My company,” alone when he was talking about the micro-transceivers Skeptic was using. That’s accurate to the manga, but I’d like to remind everyone that, at that point in the anime, viewers whose only reference is the anime itself have no idea that Re-Destro is a businessman. The show skipped the commercial, RD’s intro, the dinner scene where his company comes up, and Giran’s association of RD with Detnerat; it will further go on to skip Shigaraki recognizing him from the commercial. The news report mentioning Detnerat was ten full episodes prior to Episode 110, and was followed up on in not the faintest degree. For heaven’s sake, would it have been so hard to have Hirata Hiroaki say, “My Detnerat’s,” instead of just, “My company’s”?

Chapter 230 – Sad Man’s Parade

• Deleted the MLA members that are attacking Compress as they get pushed off by the Twice wave. Not the first time, and not the last, that the anime didn’t animate the random MLA people on the street. It’s hard to take the threat of their numbers seriously when the anime kept deleting them from what are supposed to be crowd scenes, you know?

• Mr. C thinking worriedly about Dabi as he’s mulling over Geten’s strength and disregard for catching his own people in the collateral damage. It’s just a, “Dabi—!” but it’s yet another tiny cut that shaves away at the manga’s clear depiction of Leagues’ concern for one another—even Mr. Compress, who claims that such things aren’t very villainous.

Framing Shifts

• Changed the random MLA’s exhortation to kill all the Twices to a generic, “Damn—!” I know American censors have often taken issue with the words “Kill” and “Die” in kids’ cartoons, but I was never of the impression that that was the case in Japan. And it’s not like the show made any bones about Curious planning to kill Toga. A rephrase to save a second and a half on dialogue, maybe?

• Had Skeptic give his lines about failure on the way over to the elevator instead of stalking over in silence, and then dumping the whole monologue all at once. The manga’s extended silence over three identically sized panels is much funnier and more characterful. I grow ever more confident in my assessment of Skeptic as the second-most ill-treated MLA character in this adaptation.

• The return of the Doom Choirs for the Twice Parade. I really wish the anime would lay off slathering Doom Choirs all over everything, especially a moment like this: a triumph for Twice, and, true to form for Twice, also crammed to the gills with visual and verbal gags. The Doom Choir is out of keeping with both the victory and the comedy—Mine Woman, later on, served the Parade much better.

Additions

• Gave Twice a new line, “I will protect my comrades!” It was nice to make up for his, “I won’t watch a friend die!” but the latter is more characterful, especially since a more literal translation is, “I won’t kill my friends!” Which is, you know, relevant to the fact that Twice has problems telling himself apart from things that just look like him, and he just had to intervene to stop some of those look-alikes from killing one of said friends. At least it got his use of nakama back in.[4]

• A new little cut of animation as the action went back to Geten and Dabi. I suppose the Dabi fans liked it, and it was nice to see more of Geten’s ice dragon, but I’d have much preferred they could keep the scenes we already have before adding new ones.

Chapter 231 – Path

The scene of Hawks wondering why he hasn’t heard from Dabi and his subsequent flashback to the last time they spoke were relocated to the beginning of Episode 102, the first thing the audience saw after the prior episode ended with Shouto inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at Endeavor’s. In the manga, of course, it’s not “a few weeks ago in Kyushu,” it’s “meanwhile in Osaka.” Also, the order of the scenes was flipped—the episode led with the flashback, then returned to the modern day. It really makes the timeline needlessly confusing—the viewer has no real context for what we’re seeing and when, especially since the anime neglected to specify how much time passed between the two scenes. You have to assume it was enough time for an outcry to be raised over Jeanist’s disappearance, but the random shot of a bird flying over was not at all helpful there.

Alterations included (as usual, outright removed material is in bold text):

1. Cut Hawks’ thought, “That’s why you keep calling,” and his line, “What’s the job?” I know I should give a breakdown here about Hawks’ mentality and training, but I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to complain about any lines Takami Keigo loses. God knows the anime gives him plenty enough bonus material.

2. Spliced in the flashback scene of Hawks reporting to the Commission from Chapter 243, but subtly changed it to suggest that it took place after the phonecall in which Dabi demanded Hawks kill a non-Endeavor top hero, rather than it taking place right after Hawks and Dabi’s first contact, which is what the manga implies.

3. Deleted several key shots in the Jeanist apartment scene, with the effect of making Hawks way less creepy. We got an anime-original shot of his eyes, narrow and serious, but not either of the shots of his big, off-putting grin and widened eyes as he pulls a feather-blade on Jeanist. We also lost a shot of Jeanist turning to face him, framed between extended primaries of Hawks’ Fierce Wings. It’s not like the anime dropped the fake!Dead Jeanist plot, so I’m not sure why the shift, unless it’s just that they wanted to keep Hawks likable for the merch-buying crowd, not creepy and unsettling. And while I personally never believed that Hawks really killed Jeanist, a lot of people thought it was plausible, no doubt based on how off-kilter he comes across in this scene. It loses a real frisson, to just play it straight.

• Shigaraki decaying a missile in mid-air. So Dabi can get those little animation flourishes but Tomura can’t, huh, anime? I see how it is. I. See. How. It. Is.

• Spinner’s little side comment about all the ice everywhere. A nice demonstration that Geten and Dabi’s fight really is affecting huge swathes of the city; that’s certainly apparent already in a bunch of the wide shots showing exactly that, but it’s helpful to have the more zoomed-in moments, too. Also, I do enjoy those little side quips wherever we get them, and the anime often removes them.

• Thinned out the crowd guarding the route to the tower somewhat (it’s particularly noticeable on the mid-distance rooftops) and, as best I can tell, removed Shigaraki and Spinner from the shot. Why keep all the lines harping on the 110,000 number when a) it’s not even accurate to the MLA’s forces, just the League’s assumptions, and b) the studio doesn’t even have the resources to adequately convey the numbers the manga does portray?

• Somebody in the crowd being defiant about Twice’s multiplication and vigorously declaring that the League are all just sacrifices for the MLA’s Revival Party anyway. The background nobodies? Allowed to express even bog-standard over-confidence? Well I never. How dare those people think their lives count enough for them to get dialogue.

• Spinner’s, “This keeps happening!” Of course he couldn’t have that line in the anime, since the anime cut the other big place Trumpet clearly used his power to rile up his followers. What other times were you even talking about when you said, “Every time he talks,” Anime!Spinner? That scene was the first time we even saw Trumpet since he welcomed you guys to town.

• Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. He just called him a damn moron (bakayarou) in the anime; he uses the considerably more specific baka kyouso (Google Translate gives “guru”; jisho gives “founder of a religious sect”). He uses the same term again immediately afterward—Viz’s translation gives, “More like chrome dome cult!”—which the anime also deleted.

So here’s another example of the anime doing everything it could to erase the presence of cults in the HeroAca world. The easy assumption to make is that this was tied to broadcast standards about the depiction of what Japan refers to as “new religious movements,” which—and pardon the brief swerve into real life historical horrors here—have been very unpopular in Japan since Aum Shinrikyo and the sarin gas attacks in 1995. But were these elements removed because the anime didn’t want to represent anything that smacks of new religious movements at all, or because the depiction of both the MLA and particularly the CRC are explicitly villainous and calling religious movements, even made-up ones, evil on TV leads to a lot of angry phone calls?

• Re-Destro’s line, “Unlike my good Miyashita, there’s nothing charming about you.” Of course they’d cut this, having cut the Miyashita scene, but I hate it anyway. As I said earlier, RD’s invocation of Miyashita in front of two people who are going to have not the slightest clue who that is tells me that Re-Destro really does miss and feel bad about killing the guy. Cutting the reminder that RD still feels that sting makes it much too easy to assume that Shigaraki’s right about RD hiding up in his tower, uncaring of the blood shed on his behalf, when if you read Re-Destro with even the slightest of attempts at good faith, it’s clear that those losses weigh very heavily on him.

Incidentally, and not to harp on the art again, but in the manga, Stress is still visibly spread down from RD’s temple to the ridge of his brow over his eye socket. The anime returned it back to its normal resting state, again suggesting that the death toll mounting in the streets below (as well as, possibly, the new stress of confronting a quirk as powerful as Double) left RD completely unmoved. The spread was back in the following shot, so it was probably just an art error, but it would be nice to have had fewer of those, especially when they impact characterization as much as what RD’s Stress blots are doing at any given time.

Framing Shifts

• Had Machia doing this weird cannonball skim just over the ground, when in the manga, he’s still half-buried, spraying earth and stone everywhere. The manga never namedrops Machia’s Mole quirk during the story itself, but it’s important to know for later that Machia can not only tear through obstacles, he can tear through obstacles extremely quickly.

Additions

• Gave Hawks a few new lines about how too many unexpected things happened for their last arrangement, and that Dabi should have given him more warning. Largely seemed to be there to give the anime an excuse to flashback to the High End fight, in case the viewers had completely forgotten about Hawks and Dabi having a clandestine meeting and sniping at each other in the aftermath of that event. An understandable addition, but deeply frustrating in the context of all the lines that got cut.

Chapter 232 – Meta Abilities and Quirks

• Dropped a third instance of Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. I don’t know what the S&P restriction is on this, but given that the movie was allowed to create and villainize an entire international terrorist cult, it is really incomprehensible that the MLA doesn’t get to keep their designation as such. Why?? Because the movie involves going out and defeating its cult, but the series is going to engage in a more sympathetic treatment?[5] Because the self-selecting movie crowd is less likely to complain than the TV audience? Did they just not want to draw attention to how much the movie was ripping off the MLA’s whole shtick? What??

• Missed that RD’s swole arm swipe wipes out the puppets Skeptic left behind; they just vanished from the scene entirely after Twice’s arrival. It’s hard to blame the anime for this; the manga also seems to lose track of the fact that they’re right there in between RD and the elevator—they’re nowhere to be seen anywhere between the end of Chapter 231 and the aforementioned arm swipe, where you can see them getting obliterated. Both versions could have stood to be more attentive to this; indeed, the anime could have fixed it, small error though it is.

• A sort of twitchy sparking around Shigaraki’s hand right after he decays the tower. This is foreshadowing that Shigaraki’s big AOE decay attacks are hard on his body, which will become extremely apparent after he unleashes it on the city at large during the climax, and factors into his decision to accept the mysterious power Ujiko offers. The damage Shigaraki sustains there doesn’t come out of nowhere; Horikoshi is, on the whole, extremely good at layering in foreshadowing many chapters before the foreshadowed elements come fully to light. It makes the writing look much messier than it actually is—more convenient, more pat—to delete this stuff.

• Shigaraki recognizing RD from the Detnerat commercials. Well, they ditched the Detnerat commercial, so of course they ditched this. Still, it lost one of the indicators that Shigaraki is, despite not receiving a formal education, actually quite up to speed on current events—even, apparently, when those current events are happening while he’s been fighting Machia in an isolated stretch of mountains for six weeks! I already suffer enough through fanon characterizations of Shigaraki in which he’s a basement-dwelling feral manchild glued to his gaming console whom AFO bans from accessing information about the outside world, anime! I don’t need you dropping the scenes that most clearly demonstrate otherwise!!

• In the anime, Baby!Chikara’s face was unmarked, just a normal infant face—you’d never even know the kid had a meta-ability just to look at him. In the manga, the skin of his face is clearly darker, contrasted against the paleness of his mother’s hand. It’s obvious that he’s not “normal” looking, and thus equally obviously would have attracted negative attention in his era.[6] Also had his mother smiling; her face in the manga is too shadowed and vague to make out an expression, befitting the murky tragedy of her story and the fear she must have been living with.

Framing Shifts

Additions

• A little thing: they had Twice echo, “Cushion?” when Clone!Shigaraki told him to get ready to cushion Giran’s fall. If anything, Re-Destro and his little thought-bubbled question mark is probably the one who should have had this reaction line.

• Added a visual for Clone-araki catching himself on the window. A perfectly reasonable way to fill screen time while a dialogue beat was ongoing.

• Added a panning still over a reaction shot from a bunch of Twice clones when the tower came down. It had a few good faces in it.

---

So, generally, this episode was better. I definitely still had issues with it, but compared to what came before, when they were trying to cram 5+ chapters into the episodes, there were far fewer cuts, and what cuts and tweaks there were, were relatively minor. Definitely nothing that made me want to throw chairs Jerry Springer-style the way 108 and 109 did.

Sadly, I can't say the same for the remaining two episodes. Come back next time for Part Four, Episode 111: Shimura Tenko, Origin.

FOOTNOTES

[1] After witnessing the massacre that was Episode 108, I was convinced they were going to cut the policeman scene entirely, and just go right to Jin getting fired for hitting someone with his bike, letting the audience think it was his fault completely rather than cast aspersions on police and the justness of the law. I was pleased they kept it at all, but less pleased with the steps taken to soften the sharpness of its accusation.

[2] Of course, it’s not like the MLA themselves don’t understand the willingness to give everything for the people who matter. They just label those feelings Devotion To The Cause, and don’t think the League is capable of such resolution.

[3] Netflix’s Way of the House Husband, be told.

[4] Nakama is, of course, a shonen standby, but, to the best of my knowledge (which is admittedly limited; I don’t follow a lot of shounen series), it’s pretty rare to hear the word coming out of a villain’s mouth! Jin calling the League his nakama ties into how the League are both sympathetic villains in the larger story and also the protagonists of the current arc, thereby operating under a lot of protag tropes for the duration—foreshadowed by Spinner’s earlier talk of Shigaraki and his boyish, dream-chasing eyes.

[5] Sometime after the mass arrests, one hopes.

[6] This could well be a coloring error in the manga, but if so, you’d think they’d have corrected it for the volume release. Especially given that, again, the color is in a different shade/screentone than the shadow that covers most of his mother’s face, and her hand stroking Chikara’s chin isn’t shadowed at all.

#my villain academia #bnha #bnha meta #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my writing #stillness has salt

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mamavinevine · 3 years ago

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"Capricorn Mood EP" 1 Year Anniversary: a message from the artist

A year ago today I did a very brave thing. Something my 17-year old self only ever dreamed of actually doing. Not only did I expressed my vulnerability through my music, but I shared it with the world. I told the entire world just how hurt and damaged and broken I was. How I was far from perfect, but a complete mess and emotional wreck. I told them what only I could. It truly was "the concessions of a heartbroken, grief stricken, hopeless romantic".

And honestly, it felt..... humiliating.

I immediately felt like I had made a mistake. Instead of congratulating myself for all of the money and effort spent on planning, executing and promoting the entire thing on my own, there I was wishing I could take it all back.

I can remember feeling this overwhelming shame that all everyone should ever see me as is this pathetic, spiteful crybaby who got her feelings hurt over a boy. Everyone who thought I was so strong and tough would discover that I was really just soft and fragile.

The whole thing just felt like one big cry for help. And the worst part was feeling like, even after all that, no one was coming to save me.

So then why not just delete everything? Take the whole album off all streaming platforms, remove all the visuals and photoshoots from my page and forget the entire thing ever happened? I'll tell you why...

"Capricorn Mood" was the untold story of my teenage self. The one who felt so alone and different from everyone else. Who bottled up everything inside and hid behind her talents because she didn't have anyone around to tell her how brave and inspiring and beautiful she was. Who rebelled against the social norms and made the necessary mistakes needed to grow up and be self sufficient as she learned she would need to be. Even if it meant learning them the hard way. It wasn't until recently I failed to realize just how much I had been through and all those years. How little I shared or even made an effort to heal. All I ever knew was to keep going and that this life didn't come with a savior, you just always had to look out for yourself. You can imagine how extremely lonely that felt. I really believed that it was pointless to share how I felt because nobody would care or even if they did, they wouldn't stop to help. I was like a beggar on the side of the road needing way more than just a few coins dropped inside my hat and a "good luck" as they walked off. I needed help. I needed support. I need love. I need to unlearn everything that I was taught and start over from scratch.

I guess in a way you could say the year 2020 felt like it would be the end of the world for all of us. So I needed to share how I felt before then. I needed to release all the hurt and finally let go. Truth be told, had I not felt that way I probably never would've released my EP.

I didn't care so much about it being perfect. I just wanted to get it out of my system. I wanted to unload the burden of all my past mishaps and say all the things I've always wanted to say. Including the things I myself needed to hear in order to change. And when it turned out that the world wasn't going to end after all, that's exactly what I did. It was time to clean up the mess I made and stop blaming others and playing the victim. So that instead of feeling embarrassed, I could feel empowered. Instead of feeling exposed, I could feel heard. Instead of feeling trapped inside the narrative others placed me in based off of that particular phase in my life, I could feel free.

And the response I received since then has made it very clear that I am not alone. In fact, I'm actually pretty relatable to all kinds of people with different backgrounds and demographics. It was beautiful. I felt like a god who created a safe space for people to feel everything no matter how discombobulated or or outlandish or unethical. Free your mind and let whatever's inside come out. Even if you're the only one who understands. Because we all have one life to live and if you're lucky enough, you get to tell your story along the way.

Happy birthday "Capricorn Mood" ✨

#music #my writing #capricornmood #divine #artists on tumblr #r&b music #Capricorn #songwriter #mamavinevine #houston #writing #emotional #2020 #Spotify

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dalekofchaos · 4 years ago

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Harbinger and The Illusive Man

Something I think would’ve fixed Mass Effect 3 while also keeping the plot and the dynamic of The Reapers and Cerberus as the main threat is making Harbinger the big bad and The Illusive Man as his puppet or as The Illusive Man could’ve put it his “partner”

My other ME3 metas

ME3 mistakes

ME3 ending fix

I cannot state how much I hate that Harbinger is almost nonexistent in this game.

The thing that annoyed me most about ME3 is the fact that Harbinger is not the main threat. The Illusive Man is. Harbinger has been built up as the big bad since ME2. "YOU HAVE FAILED. WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY." He says as he discards the Collectors. Then his speech to Shepard as the base blows up. "Human, you've changed nothing. Your species has the attention of those infinitely your greater. That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through destruction. You will surrender your potential against the growing void. We return, and you will rise. We are the harbinger of your perfection. We will bring your species into harmony with our own. Your species will be raised to a new existence. We are the beginning, you will be the end. Prepare for our domination. Prepare for our coming." Then in Arrival, he came pretty damn close to unleashing quick subjugation and harvest upon an unprepared galaxy. Upon Shepard foiling his plans. "Shepard. You have become an annoyance. You fight against inevitability. Dust struggling against cosmic winds. This seems a victory to you. A star system sacrificed. But even now, your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve us. Know this as you die in vain: Your time will come. Your species will fall. Prepare yourselves for the Arrival." The perfect final villain right? Unfortunately, Cerberus was more focused on than The Reapers. My problem with Cerberus and no Harbinger is Too many Cerberus, too few Reaper forces in plot. We fight Cerberus more often than the reapers. Hardly any boss fight and the one with Reaper Destroyer on Rannoch was more an interactive movie than fight. During the Horizon mission in Mass Effect 2, Harbinger was solidified as the Big Bad. It was menacing and ominous, with just the right amount of annoying. It taunted us throughout the game, telling us how insignificant we were, and how our actions were pointless. It was willing to posses drones through the Collector General to fight us personally, and when we killed the host, it tossed them aside. Harbinger even gave the typical “You haven’t seen the last of me!” villain rant. It made any fire fight frustrating, and that made me want to kill it even more; I hated Harbinger. Many games fail to do that. Harbinger was an enemy which I looked forward to defeating. I had the desire to annihilate. In Mass Effect 3, I got a codex entry and a cameo. Harbinger just swoops in at the last second and blows my friends and I to hell(and lets the Normandy save them), then flies off. Personally, I would have loved to hear Harbinger’s menacing monologue, it drove me on. I would have felt a deeper motivation to take the fight back to Earth if it told me how much destruction the Reapers were causing, how many lives were lost. I felt cheated when I got to the final mission, only to suddenly realize it was largely absent from the game. Harbinger has been replaced. Replaced by the Illusive Man and Kai Leng. The former is an old acquaintance, albeit one now controlled by the Reapers. The latter is a space ninja from a terrible book.

I will admit. The Illusive Man is a worthy foe and someone worthy enough to be Harbinger’s Saren. Kai Leng however is a terrible counterpart for Shepard.

Kai Leng. Sucks. Period. Here is a long in depth version on why he sucks. Even in the novels Leng is a terrible character. He’s a edgelord racist. He couldn’t even kill Anderson, he almost got taken out by an aging Drell with stage 7 Drell cancer. Oh but he has snarky one liners and he sent that stupid fucking email after Thesia. KAI LENG SUCKS! He is not even interesting. I genuinely fucking sighed when he was introduced. When he killed Thane, all I could think of was “really?”. When he sent that little email I just rolled my eyes. When I saw him at the temple all I could think of was “not you again”. When he “beat” me on Thessia(I would have unloaded my N7 Typhoon and sent his whiny ass into oblivion, but game mechanics said I couldn’t) I just felt angry that such a stupid character ever made it past the writing board. Oh and BULLSHIT. Thane and Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng. Even near his death bed, Thane could still kill Kai Leng. Kirrahe is a hardened veteran, he is AN STG MAJOR! Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng in a blink of a fucking eye. Here is my take on Kai Leng. He should have been killed on Priority:Citadel. If you do not save Kirrahe or don’t talk to Thane. Shepard should kill Kai Leng. If you saved Kirrahe but don’t talk to Thane. Kirrahe comes out of cloak and bombards Leng with Scorpion rounds and Leng blows up. If you talked to Thane, Thane would blow Kai Leng’s head off. The only reason why Leng is presented as a threat is cutscene logic and bad one liners.

But back to The Illusive Man and Harbinger

To make Harbinger work as the big bad, we need to have Harbinger constantly “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL”

Near the end of the first mission, before Shepard contacts the Normandy, we would see Harbinger’s hologram appear like it did in Arrival. Harbinger taunting Shepard. that the harvest begins.

Instead of suggesting Control, The Illusive Man is basically saying The Reapers can uplift Humanity and ascend them and dominate the other races. With Harbinger’s help, Humanity will be the ultimate force in the galaxy

Everytime we fight Reaper forces, Harbinger is there to “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL”

Kai Leng dies on The failed coup on the Citadel. The Illusive Man does not care as he is close to finding The Catalyst

On Rannoch, instead of a Destroyer Reaper talking to Shepard, Harbinger’s hologram will appear. Harbinger will continue to taunt Shepard, but Shepard shows that everyone is coming together to end the Reapers once and for all. Harbinger would not say that the Reapers are needed to keep synthetics from killing organics. He would say The Reapers are there to ascend and are your salvation through destruction. Harbinger’s end quotes from ME2 is basically the premise of The Reapers end goals. That's all it needed to be.

On Thesia, The Illusive Man will explain to Shepard that Harbinger chose him. After The First Contact War, TIM found a Reaper artifact. In that artifact, he was contacted by Harbinger. He lost his human vision, but awakened to the truth and because of Harbinger’s guidance, he founded Cerberus. Strength for Cerberus is strength for humanity. TIM believes he and Harbinger together they could uplift and empower humanity over the lesser races. The Illusive Man is to Harbinger, as what Saren was for Soverign. He will then tell Shepard, he plans on using the Crucible to finish what the Collectors started. Completing the Human Reaper. Then TIM sends a group of Phantoms, Nemesis and Cerberus Dragons to face Shepard in place of Leng. Thesia falls.

Sanctuary is used to create Husks and harvest humans to help create the Human Reaper

At Cerberus Headquarters, TIM says Harbinger knew more about the Citadel than Soverign. There is more than one Conduit and he found it. Vendetta will reveal that the Citadel was moved by Harbinger and taken it to Earth to complete the harvest

The confrontation between Shepard, Anderson and TIM happens but we know how TIM is on the Citadel and if you read my ending fix, you will know that Anderson would’ve went to the beam with Shepard and they are transported to the same place

Shepard will ask “Why didn’t Harbinger kill me?” “Because, we need you to understand and we need you to believe”

Same confrontation ends with either Shepard shooting TIM dead or TIM killing himself after Shepard uses paragon or renegade to reveal that Harbinger used him all his life

After Anderson passes. Harbinger “Assumes Control” over TIM’s dead body. Harbinger will explain the purpose of the Harvests. The explanation is the original ending of Dark energy. The Reapers as a whole were ‘nations’ of people who had fused together in the most horrific way possible to help find a way to stop the spread of the Dark Energy. The real reason for the Human Reaper was supposed to be the Reapers saving throw because they had run out of time. Humanity in Mass Effect is supposedly unique because of its genetic diversity and represented the universe’s best chance at stopping Dark Energy’s spread. We have a choice either Sacrifice humanity, allowing them to be horrifically processed in hopes that the end result will justify the means or use The Crucible to destroy The Reapers and find a way to stop the dark energy from spreading and it shows it is hopeful with a united galaxy. However, if we choose destroy, Harbinger will attempt to stop Shepard. A Reaperfied TIM appears and Shepard fights him, while The Normandy fights Harbinger. If we choose sacrifice humanity, Shepard will be the final catalyst to completing the Human Reaper. But obviously no one will choose that choice as the entire point of the trilogy is to destroy The Reapers. So we get a hopeful ending. The united galaxy will work together to stop the spread of dark energy, as Hackett said “If we can put aside our grievances long enough to stop The Reapers, imagine what we can do together”

There, I came up with a way to have the best of both worlds. Harbinger and The Illusive Man as the big bads.

I also made The Reapers motivation to actually work. They are there to control the chaos. The harvests end with a creation of The Reaper and The Reapers are the pinnacle of evolution Harbinger’s speech at the end of ME2 was enough for a motivation. The Reapers are our salvation from the coming void. They want to ascend humanity to perfection. That makes complete sense and makes more sense than destroying everyone to save everyone????? WHo fucking wrote this Starchild garbage???

The point is, The Reapers and The Illusive Man could’ve worked as the big bads collectively together.

#Mass Effect #Mass Effect Legendary Edition #Mass Effect 3 #Commander Shepard #Femshep #The Illusive Man #Harbinger #Cerberus #The Reapers

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writingsbymarie · 5 years ago

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X - Rafe Cameron x reader

(my gif)

Word count: 2,124

Warnings: Fluff, and it’s a little steamy not gonna lie, implied sexy times

A/n: So this is based off the song X by the Jonas Brothers if you want to listen to that while reading.

Summary: You, Rafe, Topper, Sarah, and Kelce take a trip to the Bahamas. You and Rafe both have feelings for each other. What happens when you both are drunk at the club, and Rafe finally makes a move.

You don’t exactly know how you got convinced to join in on this small vacation to The Bahamas. It was winter break for college, and You, Rafe, Sarah, Kelce, and Topper were about to board the Cameron plane for a week in the Bahamas. You had been friends with the Camerons since you can remember. You were the same age as Rafe, but he was a couple months older than you. You two were pretty good friends since you grew up together, but as you got older there was tension in your friendship. To everyone around you, it was obvious that you and Rafe liked each other much more than friends, but neither of you was willing to make a move.

Rafe had his pilot license, but you didn’t exactly trust him with his drinking, and drug habits. He reassured you that he would be 100% sober while flying a plane saying he wasn’t that crazy which made you feel a bit better, but you were still nervous to be flying in a small plane.

You were currently walking your suitcase to the plane giving Rafe a smile, and wave as you exited your Brothers car who dropped you off. You said Goodbye to your brother, and started to walk towards the group of young adults and teens.

“Y/n is finally here! Time to blow this place” Sarah laughed coming to give you a hug. You rolled your suitcase to the plane, and Rafe gestured for you to let him grab your suitcase. He grabbed it and loaded it into the plane.

“Thanks Rafe”

“Of course I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself,” he said sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“Ha ha you’re so funny” you joked, and he just laughed, and both of you headed for the front plane entrance. Rafe climbed in, and turned around holding his hand out to help you get into the plane. You smiled and grabbed his hand, and he pulled you into the plane with a little too much force, so once you were up you ran into his body placing your hands on his chest, and his landed on your waist to steady you.

“Guess I’m a little too strong” he whispered, and your face went bright red, and you quickly backed away brushing yourself off, and he just laughed. You weren’t going to lie. It felt so good having his hands on your hips. His touch felt like fire, and you wanted to feel that again. Rafe walked to the pilot seat, and Kelce was sitting in the Passenger seat, and you Sarah, and Topper sat in the back.

The flight wasn’t too bad. You ended up falling asleep towards the end, and Sarah had to shake you awake once you landed. The boys quickly exited the plane you and Sarah getting out last. Topper helped Sarah out of the plane, and Rafe quickly took Toppers place to help you making your heart skip a beat. You put your hands on his shoulders and jumped down his hands finding your hips again, and you found yourself in the same position you were in before.

“You know I could have gotten out myself Rafe” you breathed. Your hands still on his shoulders.

“Yeah, but I like helping you, especially if it means I get to be this close to you” he whispered the last part in your ear, and you felt your stomach do a backflip and your heart rate increase. He backed away from you with a wink leaving you standing there trying to understand what he just said to you. Rafe flirted a lot, but he was being extra flirty today, and it messed with you. You shook your head, and walked towards the rest of the group, and they were unloading the suitcases. Once they were all out of the Plane you all grabbed your suitcases and went through the small airport. Once your bags were checked Rafe had called a drive to get you guys to the house. When the car arrived you all entered. You were all jamming to the music not caring about what the driver was thinking. When you reached the house Rafe paid your driver, and you guys entered the large house. Sarah and Topper took a room together, and the rest of you took your own rooms even though you wanted to be in a room with Rafe.

You put your suitcase on your bed, and got out your party clothes since you would be going to a club in a couple hours. Sarah came running into your room with her clothes, and make up a smile on her face.

“Time to get ready” she squealed, closing your door. There was a large mirror with a desk below it in your room where you guys would be getting ready. You decided to curl your hair, so you did that first. Sarah did the same as you guys jammed to music playing out of your speaker. You decided to put your clothes on before you did your make up. You exited the room going into the bathroom next to your room seeing Rafe was in the room right across from yours. You put on your white tube top and a floral short skirt. You looked in the mirror, and you actually felt hot in this outfit. You were hoping that you would catch the attention of the golden-haired boy in the room across from yours. The last thing you wanted to see was Rafes hands all over another girl at the club tonight, so maybe tonight would be the night he would have his hands all over you.

You opened the door of the bathroom stepping out to hit something solid. ‘When you looked at Rafe he had his hand up as if he was about to knock as you exited the room.

“Sorry” you giggled, but he didn’t respond at first. He was most definitely checking you out. His eyes went from your face, and scanned your body.

“No need to apologize” he smirked, and you felt your heart flutter, but you decided that you needed to do some kind of flirting back this time. So you smiled softly, and pushed past him dragging your hand against his body softly as you did. Before you entered the room you looked back at him.

“Hey Rafe”

“What”

“Next time you’re going to check me out try and not make it that obvious” you winked, and then re-entered your room leaving Rafe frozen by your flirty comment.

Sarah was now dressed. She was wearing a cute blue short sundress with white flowers. She was currently working on her makeup, and you came up next to you to work on yours. You started with some foundation, and then some highlighter.

“So what's going on between you and my brother” she hinted, and you almost dropped your brush.

“Um nothing” you defended, but she was convinced.

“There is obviously something between you guys, I’m very observant I see the way you look at each other, and friends don’t look at each other like that”

“Rafe and I are just best friends,” you said, and it sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself than Sarah.

“Whatever you say” Sarah sang as she walked away from the mirror to grab something. You finished up your eye makeup, but Sarah had you thinking. Was it that obvious you liked Rafe?

When it was time to go to the club the boys knocked on your door telling you guys that the uber was here to drive you. You and Sarah told the boys to meet you in the car as you grabbed a small bottle of vodka to pregame in the car. You ran out of the house to meet the boy who was already in the car. You passed around the bottle of vodka in the car, and everyone took a bit to start the night off. It was travel size so it was gone pretty quick. When you guys finally reached the club you were a bit buzzed, but you were ready to party. You guys entered the club lights flashing and music blasting. Topper and Sarah went to go dance, and Kelec went to find a girl leaving you, and Rafe together.

“You want to get Margaritas?” he asked leaning close to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

“Sure” you yelled back. He laced your hands together as you made your way through the crowd. You loved the feeling of his hand in yours. You never wanted to let go. Once you reached the bar he let go of your hand, and it felt empty. You both took a seat at the bar, and Rafe ordered two Margaritas, and two shots. The bartender made the drinks and handed them to you. Rafe quickly took the shot, and you weren’t going to lie. Watching him take the shot was hot. You quickly took yours forcing the liquid down your throat.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” Rafe said out of nowhere, and you almost choked on your Margarita.

“Thanks, Rafe”

“You look beautiful every night” he continued, and you felt like your face was on fire.

“Rafe” you started, but he stopped you.

“Let go dance” he insisted, holding out his hand for you to grab, and you took it immediately. Maybe tonight was going to the night his hands were on you.

Rafe dragged you through the crowd until you found a pretty open spot. At first, you just swayed to the beat, and Rafe frowned. He grabbed both your hands and began to move them back and forth. With the alcohol in your system, your anxieties started to go away, and you began to let yourself go. You moved your hips and got into the music. Rafe grabbed your hands and spun you in a circle, your skirt twirling as you spun. After the spin, you found yourself falling into his body and you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands found your waist. You both swayed to the music and you had a constant smile on your face. You leaned your head in the crook of his neck, your body as close as it could be to his. His hands were firm on your hips as you danced. Eventually, his hands wrapped around your lower back pulling you even closer than you thought was possible. You could feel his hands start to trail down further, but he was hesitant, so you placed your hands over his and moved them from you lower back to your ass, and he groaned. Rafe became a bit more confident with his touches, and he was feeling up and down your body. At some point you found yourself turning around your back pressed against his chest. His hand found your waist yet again. You could feel his breath on your neck and it made you shiver. This whole situation was way out of your comfort zone, but with the alcohol running through your system your brain didn’t seem to care. You felt Rafe's lips ghost your neck and you swore you almost moaned. Both your hips were swaying to the beat of the music and things were definitely starting to get a little PG-13, so you turned around to face him again. This time your foreheads were connected, and your lips were so close. You just had to move an inch or two and your lips would be on his.

“Do we want to cross this line?” you whispered to him. You had already done things that best friends don’t do, but kissing him would change everything. But instead of responding he connected his lips to yours. Your eyes widened for a second, but you quickly closed them kissing him back. His hands found your ass again, and you found your hands in his hair pulling on it a bit making him moan into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and your tongues battled for dominance, him obviously winning. His hands moved from your ass to your cheeks. When you pulled apart you made eye contact with his ocean blue eyes. They were a bit darker than usual which made your stomach have the feeling of butterflies.

“I’ve wanted to do that since freshman year” he admitted with one of his hands still on your cheek. You leaned into his touch closing your eyes to the feeling of his large hand caressing your cheek.

“You and me both” you breathed.

“Do you want to get out of here” he whispered into your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, and you almost gasped. Before you had the chance to answer his lips were on your neck.

“Yes please” and with that Rafe grabbed your hand, and you left the club knowing you were in for a hell of a night.

Master list

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader

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stellawella97 · 4 years ago

Text

Atelephobia: The Fear of Never Being Good Enough (Shane/Gender Neutral Farmer) - Chapter 1/3

Just posted 1/3 of my first Stardew Valley fanfic!

Read it below or over @ AO3

Summary:

Shane has got 99 problems but never did he think the entire world losing its colour would be one of them.

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It started off as just any other normal day in Shane’s life.

The chickens clucked noisily outside, the cows joining in their song occasionally with their loud chorus of moo’s. None of these sounds woke Shane up in the slightest - he heard them every day and he’d grown so accustomed to the noise, he figured he’d still be able to continue sleeping even if his bedroom floor caved in beneath his bed.

The slightly battered alarm clock sitting on Shane’s bedside table began its shrill ringing at 6:30am sharp. Shane tended to run by a strict ‘5 more minutes’ rule when it came to waking up in the morning however. Refusing to open his eyes till he absolutely had to, Shane managed to turn off the alarm clock by swatting aimlessly with his hand till it met with cold metal and the ringing stopped.

He tried to fall back asleep for those precious extra 5 minutes of peace before he had to leave for his soul-sucking job at JojaMart. However, memories of the night before began to flood back into his mind. Shane had been up in the mountains late at night, drinking again. He faintly remembered seeing the hermit (Linus, was it?) entering his tent, a plastic bag that was stuffed to the brim with what looked like half-eaten food grasped tightly in his hands.

Shane had drunk a couple cans of beer before he decided to enter the mines nearby. It had been dark and full of strange noises neither human nor animal could make but Shane had managed to make it down several floors with a pickaxe he’d found at the mine entrance in his drunken state. As to why he’d chosen to do this, Shane had no idea whatsoever.

He didn’t remember much else except for the sound of a creature speaking in a garbled ancient language, a warm tingling sensation that filled his entire body, and finally the sharp pain that shot through his head as he finally keeled over from the amount of alcohol in his system, smashing his head against the rocky terrain. Oddly enough, his head didn’t hurt at all this morning. Doctor Harvey must’ve patched him up real good this time. Or maybe Marnie had. Who’d even brought him back to the house?

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he was actually found with trousers on this time, Shane heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. Marnie must have gone out to feed the animals. Shane was just about to roll over onto his side to continue his reminiscing when it began to dawn on him that he’d probably been in bed for more than just 5 minutes.

Shane quickly sat up in bed and grabbed the alarm clock. It was now 7:10am! He couldn’t risk Morris docking his pay again this month - he had to get to JojaMart quick. He jumped out of bed and had just put his leg through a pair of jeans when he noticed that it’d turned from blue to gray. When had that happened? He remembered wearing this exact pair of jeans just two days ago and he certainly hadn’t ever bought gray ones before.

It was then that he realized - everything had turned gray from his walls, to the cushion placed in front of the television set, to the alarm clock, and even his own skin.

I’ve finally done it, haven’t I? I died in those fucking mines last night and now, I’m in some kind of Hell?

The thought ran through Shane’s mind as he spun around, inspecting everything in his room for any sign of colour. This was to no avail. Even his favourite pair of boxers was gray with slightly darker gray hearts dotting it. In a moment of pure desperation, Shane decided to pinch himself as hard as he could on his arm in an attempt to find out if he was in fact still alive. He was.

Rubbing the sore patch of skin on his arm, Shane decided that he didn’t have time to waste standing here and waiting to see if the world around him would get its colour back. If he was still alive, he needed to get to work pronto. He quickly pulled on his ratty, old JojaMart jacket that still did its job and ran out of the house, only just remembering to shut his bedroom door behind him because he just didn’t think he could deal with Marnie yelling at him again about the mess of empty beer cans and pizza boxes in there.

Shane ran through town, almost knocking over Abigail who had just left Pierre’s General Store with a flute in her hands. It worried him to no end that even her usually bright purple of her hair (She must dye it, right?) was now a dull gray, but Shane had no time to be stressing about that now. He’d just have to wait till during his break or after work.

Once he’d arrived at JojaMart, Shane immediately went to the employees office to clock in and change into the uniform. He took a moment to glance at his reflection in the mirror and sighed as he noted that the usually bright blue uniform was just as unflattering as always in a gray shade. He walked out onto the shop floor and began stocking the shelves, determined to just get through the day now.

However, he must’ve done something to offend Yoba because Shane’s shift did not go well at all. He’d first managed to trip over his own feet and crashed straight into the display of limited edition shrimp-flavoured Joja Cola that he’d been hard at work stacking up for over an hour. As Shane was stomping angrily back onto the shop floor with a bucket of soapy water and a mop in his hands, he’d then bumped into Pam who’d screamed in rage when she discovered her brand-new jumpsuit was now soaked. Even though he’d apologized profusely to Pam, Shane still had to sit through an hour and a half of Morris’s lectures as well as had his paycheck docked for the day to reimburse Pam for the damages.

Just as he thought his day couldn’t get any worse however, Shane was just about to clock out for his lunch break when Morris asked him to help Sam unload the delivery trucks that had just arrived with a new shipment of powdered butter, gluten pucks and Carbo Cones. This meant he had to endure almost an hour’s worth of listening to Sam go on and on about how awesome some indie band in Grampleton was - which on some days, was fine. Just not today, for Yoba’s sake. Instead of putting up a fuss however (Morris wouldn’t care anyway), Shane simply gritted his teeth and headed out to the back of JojaMart.

It wasn’t till 2pm that Shane finally managed to clock out for his break. He flopped down onto a seat at a small round metal table in the employee’s break room and stared at the silently humming vending machine in the corner of the room. The vending machine sold only JojaMart products, all of them disgusting and overly sweet - Shane had tried each one. At first, he wondered to himself ‘Wasn’t that vending machine blue before?” before it dawned on him for the second time that day that he hadn’t been able to see colours all day. As crazy as it sounded, he’d just been so distracted with work that he hadn’t had time to notice.

Shane leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, biting his lower lip in concentration. How had this happened? Had something happened to him in the mines? Maybe he should pay Doctor Harvey a visit after work, he would know what to do.

“Knock knock!,” a familiar voice suddenly came from the direction of the door. Shane, who had been staring blankly at a spot on the table, looked up to see who had managed to sneak into the break room in surprise but flinched almost immediately, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the sudden burst of colour amongst the gray. Once his eyes had adjusted, Shane saw that the voice belonged to the new farmer that had recently moved into the farm out of the town. They were now standing by the door, their hands clasped behind their back.

He must’ve been staring at the farmer for just a moment too long because they’d then asked “Shane? Are you okay? with an eyebrow raised questioningly. Shane cleared his throat and stood up from his chair, moving to stand in front of the vending machine. It was hard to tell what he was looking at when all the cans were the same gray colour, but he pretended to be deciding which drink he was going to buy to buy himself some time. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, Shane began to wonder if he was about to pass out.

Why’s the farmer the only one who’s in colour? Why of all people has it got to be them?!

Just as he thought of something smart to say, Shane heard the sound of the break room door opening again. He spun around to find the farmer already halfway out the door. However, the farmer noticed at the last moment that Shane had finally turned around and was now looking at them. They hesitated for a moment before saying with a shy smile tracing their lips “I’ve gotta go now but...I’ll be stopping by the Stardrop Saloon tomorrow night, I hope I’ll see you there there?”

“I-I’ll see you there!,” Shane blurted out, feeling his cheeks begin to heat up. The farmer flashed him a warm smile before shutting the door behind them. Shane fell back into his seat and buried his face in his hands, mentally screaming at himself for two main reasons. One, he had sounded way too excited at the prospect of seeing the farmer again. Two, had the farmer just subtly invited him on a date? And did he just...agree to it? What was going on today?!

Not once did he stop to wonder why the farmer hadn’t turned gray like everything else, himself included.

Shane managed to breeze through the second half of his shift at JojaMart without any further mishaps, and had made it all the way back home with his head high up in the clouds. He popped a frozen pizza he’d stolen from JojaMart’s freezers into the oven and entered his bedroom, kicking his shoes off at the door.

He was just wondering if people still brought their date flowers in these modern days when he noticed a small slip of paper that was being held in place beneath a small stone that was smooth to the touch. Written on the paper in a barely legible script were the words ‘Lost your ability to see colour, huh? If you want it back, meet me at the mines tonight at 11pm’.

Shane looked around his room and decided to check the windows. They were locked. Whoever had delivered this note must’ve come in from the front door but Marnie who had been home all day would have said something to him if someone had come looking for him. She hadn’t though, so they must have snuck in without her seeing. Now he knew how they got in, there was still one question left unanswered:

Who sent me this note?

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Author Notes:

Part 2 will be up sometime later this week so stay tuned for that.

If you'd like my work and would like to support me, please consider donating to my Ko-fi @ https://ko-fi.com/stellawella97 where I am offering custom fanfic commissions for a cup of coffee! It'd really help me out. Thank you <3

#stardew valley #stardew shane #stardew farmer #stardew fanfic #gender neutral fanfic #sdv #sdv shane #sdv farmer #fanfiction #fanfic

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venusandromedadjarin · 4 years ago

Text

Call Me Mando

Ch. 3, A Glint of Beskar

18+ eventual smut, violence, gore, 1.7k words

He’s next to you so quickly that you don’t even have time to register the whistle fully. The drunk reaches out to slap you ass and a gloved hand connects with his face at the exact same time. The crunch of the cantina patron’s nose is sickening, and blood quickly pours out of it across his blue-grey skin.

“What the Hell?” You hop back as the guy crashes to his knees in front of you, the Beskar helmet silent beside you. You open your mouth to ask another question when he puts his other hand on the small of your back. He shrugs towards you and wipes the blood off his glove on his pants. With a slight amount of pressure, he leads you into the cantina, past the thinning crowd of onlookers who saw him ruin a drunk guy’s day.

Inside the cantina, you see an older guy wave over to your pairing, “Mando! Nice of you to finally join me. Who’s this?”

Huh, Mando? I guess he is an actual Mandalorian. You smile slightly as you approach the table, but quickly stop at another increase of pressure on your lower back.

The modulator crackles a bit before Mando responds, “She works for me.” You stare at him as he sets down four tracking fobs on the table before settling into the booth.

“Ah,” the man turns to you. “Mando’s never been one for words. Hopefully you won’t mind that too-“

“Karga. The pucks.” As Mando speaks to the man, you feel his hand lightly brush your knee under the table before coming up to rest in front of him. He clasps his hands and leans toward him.

“Mando, how many times have I asked you to call me Greef. We’re friends!” He waves at a droid for shots of spotchka. You immediately down yours, trying to quell the nerves and whatever else you feel fluttering in your stomach. Greef Karga laughs, “Maker, Mando. It’s always business with you. Take a break.”

“No, the pucks.” He ever so slightly looks at you, only enough for you to notice. Somehow you get the feeling you upset him by drinking the spotchka, but the fuzzy feeling in your head makes you not care.

Greef Karga waves at another person in the room and instructs them to start the unload. “I’ve only got a few pucks this time, but you can have your pick Mando. The bodies will be unloaded shortly,” he says as he reaches into his pocket and removes seven pucks. Mando slowly flips through them, his movements direct rather than lazy. He pockets four.

“Lets go,” he lightly tugs at your arm before exiting the booth, nodding at Greef Karga before the man can say anything else. You offer him a slight smile before trailing after Mando and the floating capsule.

You walk back to the ship in silence, walking faster than normal to keep up with his huge strides. You notice how subtle he is about looking around, whereas you blatantly look at your surroundings, taking them all in, calculating any possible threats.

That’s the first similarity you notice between the two of you, that you both have an air of caution as you leave the city.

When you get back to the ship, you stop in your tracks, looking up at the massive piece of metal in front of you. It looks old, but obviously has enough fighting power. You can see the multiple mounted cannons it has. Before you realize how much you’re gawking at the gunship, he stops walking and turns around. As you continue to take in the machine in front of you, he walks back to your side, ducking his helmet next to your ear and speaking low, “Shower. Then I’ll show you around the Crest.” He doesn’t wait for your response before heading up the ramp, but you know he sees your flushed skin.

You quickly follow him up the ramp and notice a door to the left that has what looks to be a shower head. You’ve never taken an actual shower with water though, so you aren’t completely sure and look to him for an explanation. His modulated sigh comes through the helmet just as the ramp closes behind you, and he reaches in to turn a knob which is followed by water and immediately steam starts filling up the hull. Without a word he heads up the ladder, only stopping to make sure the little capsule follows.

Once you know he’s gone, you undress and step into the warm water. It stings at first, whether because of the few left over cuts on your body or because of the new sensation. The soap you bought at the small shop lathers up quickly and you scrub at your skin as hard as you can without making the bruises painful. Your hair has never felt so soft, the refreshers you were used to before being on Arvala-7 were only equipped with sonic showers that constantly dried out your hair and made it frizzy. While being held at the encampment, you only remember being splashed with cold water once a week, but you never remember bathing.

Maker, I probably smell horrible. Can he smell through that helmet?

Afraid of wasting water, you struggle to turn the knobs off. After a few attempts resulting in either freezing water or scalding water, you finally figure the system out before realizing you have no way to dry off.

A jolt rumbles through the gunship that makes you think it entered hyperspace, so you risk peeking outside of the fresher to see if you’re alone. There’s a soft towel hanging next to the door which you gratefully take, realizing he probably came back down here to leave it there. You cross the room, hair dripping wet, to where your bag is laying on the cot. Dressing quickly, you start to feel lighter, the stiffness in your shoulder and hand lessening. You can even open your right eye fully, though it’s still a bit tender around your cheek. Unfortunately you notice there’s no mirrors, so you can’t know for sure how horrid you still look. After quickly braiding your hair, you pack the rest of your new things into the duffel and grab the bag of left over credits. You decide to stay barefoot, enjoying this small increment of time that you aren’t walking on bloody dirt. Instead of looking around, you decide to climb up the ladder to what you assume is the cockpit.

You’ve gathered that he doesn’t like talking, probably less than you do, so instead of greeting him in the pilot chair, you set the credits down and take a seat in the co-pilot chair. You don’t even notice the huge green ears peeking out of the capsule, yet.

He glances at the bag of credits, “Those are yours.” The modulator cracks, but somehow brings a small sense of comfort to you.

“What?”

“When I told Karga that you work for me, I was serious. Unless… you don’t want to.” Something about the way he says the last part makes you think he doesn’t second guess himself very often, but wants to give you a choice. With a sudden jolt, you realize he isn’t trying to keep you as a prisoner, he rescued you to give a choice. You look over at him, trying to understand anything you can from his body language but he stays completely still, the only hint that he isn’t actually a droid is the slight modulated breathing you can hear.

“O-okay. What’s the job then?” You turn to look at the streaking lights of stars in hyperspace, trying to hide a slight smile at the fact you’re free to make any choice you want.

After years, you’re free.

“That,” he turns slowly and points at the green face poking out of the capsule. Giant black eyes stare right at you as you turn to look at it. Whoever is behind the helmet stares at you, maybe expecting more of a reaction than you give, but instead you get up and walk over to the child and stick a finger out to it.

It babbles.

“So this is what I heard when I woke up in the hull?”

He doesn’t answer you, just nods. Normally, you wouldn’t mind the silence but you need answers.

“I’ll take the job on one condition: answer my questions.” Your voice is stern, and though you don’t notice it, his body stiffens at being spoken to so bluntly. He inclines his head a little, watching you, inviting you to ask. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Mando.”

You straighten and look at him, set on making him understand you aren’t afraid of whatever power he supposedly holds. “That’s not a name.”

“No.”

“Then-”

“That’s what you can call me.” His head tilts as he watches you start to pace.

“Fine. How’d you find me and why?”

He stares at you for a few beats before answering, “I didn’t.” You don’t say anything, letting the silence stretch until he’s forced to elaborate. “I was on a bounty when I saw you fighting the first time. You won that one.”

It almost sounds… like he chuckles behind the helmet. You scowl.

“I came back, I wasn’t expecting you to be close to dead though.”

“You-you came back? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He turns back to the controls, signaling that the conversation is over. You sigh, turning back to the child. He reaches up his six fingers to you and you pick him up, lifting him easily out of his blankets. A silver ball falls to the ground, but within seconds it zooms into his little palm.

“What the hell?” You jump a little. Did you imagine that?

You jump when you look up to see a chest full of Beskar standing in front of you, you can see the gradual rise and fall of it before he answers, “He does that.” Mando’s tone tells you he doesn’t have anything else to say before he heads down the ladder and you hear clinking in the hull before the shower turns on again.

#the mandolarian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin reader insert #reader x din Djarin #din djarin smut

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male-reader-requests · 4 years ago

Text

Unknown

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2,351

Warnings: This is a little short story so not a one-shot. This talks about Serial Killer stuff, specifically the Zodiac Killer. So uh, blood and gore. Be careful. I am also in the middle of getting together an actual update so don't worry!

I would not know them.

They would be chosen at random, by pure coincidence.

The game, the most dangerous game would be my game. The most dangerous game, the most dangerous prey, the most dangerous predator, they would become my prey.

I do not know my target, so they will not know me. I will go at night, not caring for the dangers of being caught, for I would not be linked to them. I would not care for my appearance, for I do not need to impress them.

I would find a couple, maybe they are together for a passionate night, or perhaps I've caught them just as they decide to split ends, but it will not matter, for no one will ever know. They would be alone, at a beach or on a lover's lane, but I would make sure it was clean, that there were no witnesses and no survivers. This will be my design.

I will shine a light, maybe my headlights or perhaps just a floodlight, at them so they are unable to see me. The light, if a floodlight, will be tapped to my gun. I will have a silencer, to make my act a bit more privet from prying ears.

Whoever is in the passenger seat, whether a man or woman, will be shot once in the neck, and the driver I will shoot twice in the head. If the passenger lives I will shoot them again, perhaps in the chest, maybe in the stomach, I do not care is they survive anymore.

I will shoot the driver again in the chest and again perhaps in the stomach, then I will shoot the passenger as many times and as recklessly as I want, for I do not care. In the end, I will unload an entire magazine into two people, and I will leave, leaving the two of them to rot unnoticed until morning. If either survives then that is their problem.

In the morning, at around 6 AM, I will call the police, reporting a double homicide. If one of them survives then that will just be a blip in the system, a single count of homicide and a single count of an attempt at homicide.

I will tell them I did it, but I will call them from a burner phone. I will proceed to crush said phone and throw it into a river, never to be seen again.

I will be familiar in all the wrong ways, and I will be an ever-recurring nightmare.

I will become the Zodiac Killer of the 21st century.

------------------

Marissa sighed, looking at the mass of paperwork before her. Being a detective in California was surprisingly boring, especially when all you ever see is a one on one gunfight between rivals. Currently, the last thing she'd done that seemed even slightly interesting was her divorce, and that had been four years ago.

Light hair fell onto the desk before her, her head following. It was slow for some reason, there was nothing for her to do. Well, that was a lie. She could answer the phone ringing on her desk, she could fill out the paperwork before her, and she could go actually eat something, but here she was, debating.

She was drifting in and out of sleep, dozing as her partner August would say, but it was a warm afternoon, who could blame her?

A sharp crack came across her back, the pale woman yelping as her partner snapped her suspenders. August chuckled at her, obnoxiously slurping at cheap coffee in hand. Marissa glared at him, but it was halfhearted, holding no true anger.

"What was that for?" she asked, but she was eyeing the coffee in his hands, not really listening. She didn't really care, the snapping of her suspenders had become a greeting of August's ever since they were paired up, so she's grown used to it.

August just hummed, putting the coffee mug down on the cluttered desk, having to push a few papers so make room. The two of them hardly cared for germs, so when Marissa cupped the mug to herself he hardly batted an eyelash.

"We've got an assignment," August mumbled, his voice shadowed by drowsiness and a slight speech impediment. Marissa didn't move, truthfully she wished that August hadn't said anything.

August, bless his heart, normally dealt with all the paperwork. This meant that they were almost completely ready to head out to wherever they were needed, and as much as Marissa just wanted to sleep she knew that this was probably important.

They would have to talk to the head of their department, an older man named Louis Ridgway before they could go, and Marissa truly wished they didn't have to. Ridgway wasn't a bad person, but he liked to make things seem far more interesting then they are.

Marissa struggled with her jacket as the two of them made their way to his office, dodging interns, other detectives, and officers. Their department was always busy, considering so many people died in California, but it seemed there were even more people here now than there ever were.

August, used to Marissa's struggles, helped his shorter partner into her jacket, then opened the door for her as they entered Ridgway's office. Ridgway, all bushy eyebrows and droopy mustache, waved them over.

He ignored the normal "sit down and listen as I tell you about the case" and made the two of them stand behind him as he pulled up a few things on his computer. Marissa, ever the nosey person, saw a few crime scene photos, the kind you'd expect to see with the yellow number cards and a bit of blood on the ground.

The thing that really got her attention though was the other set of photos, ones that looked like carbon copies except that they had been taken with an older camera, the photos themselves obviously being older if the dates on the bottoms of them were right.

Ridgway turned his monitor off, cutting Marissa's view. "There's been a murder," Ridgway said gruffly, ignoring how lame that sounded. There were tons of murders in California every day, even more, if you count car crashes and accidents.

"I want the two of you to check it out, see if it matches." Marissa blinked a few times, confused and tired, but August nodded, grabbing the pale woman by the shoulder and steering her through the crowded office area.

Actually back to herself, Marissa looked at August in confusion, but the taller man just got into the driver's seat of the car, motioning for her to also get in. Rolling her eyes she complied, not that she really wanted to, buckling herself in.

She didn't know where they were going, who was murder, how many had been murdered, but she blamed that on her pension for spacing out. August probably knew. .....probably.

------------

It was a 2-hour drive. It was a 2-hour drive for only 38 miles, San Francisco to Benicia, and Marissa slept the entire time. She knew she wasn't looking her best, but that never really mattered to her.

Sleep rumbled hair and bags under her eyes the short woman got out of the car, accepting the lukewarm coffee August handed her with silent gratitude. The two of them got a few odd looks from local police, but that was more of their own fault, being in a completely different county tended to do that. Police were oddly territorial.

One young man though, obviously just out of training from how much younger he was than the other officers, offered to bring them to the scene. He was all polite and charming, and Marissa was thankful, she and August had to deal with enough rude officers back at the department.

The younger officer brought them through the yellow tape and through the mass of officers mostly loitering. The first thing Marissa got to see was a shit box car, obviously older than average and painted in a fading teal that patched out to show a bit of rust. She then noticed the blood.

There was blood smeared on the passenger door, backseat door on the passenger side, and in the window of the passenger door. There was a pool, or what was probably a pool at one point, of dried blood on the gravel at the backseat door, but Marissa couldn't look further for her view was blocked by a stocky man.

The man himself she didn't recognize, once she'd actually looked up, but she could tell by the way he held himself that he was the head honcho here, and that he wasn't very happy with the two of them being there.

He was tall, taller than Marissa but then again almost everyone was. He was older than the two of them, his face was saggy in a way you only get from heavy drinking and it was twisted in a sarcastic sneer.

"Well, what do we have here?" His voice, like his face, had a strangely saggy aspect to it, and Marissa hated it immediately. As rude as it was she wished she could zone out now, but August had put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her focus.

"Detectives Shultcher and Lynn, we're from San Francisco." August and Marissa pulled their badges out from their pockets, Marissa ending up holding hers upside down.

The saggy faced man seemed to sneer a bit less, but it never left completely. He smiled down at Marissa, then moved to look up at August. His smile was fake, holding no joy or happiness, only restrained rudeness.

He stepped back, letting the two of them through, but you could see the hesitation in his motions, the way he didn't want them there. Police were oddly territorial.

At the actual scene itself, there was a woman and a young man, both of them must have been part of the forensics force. The two of them were collecting samples from the blood, off the car and off the gravel. They had a chest next to them, full of little sample bags.

Marissa hated dealing with Forensics specialists. It may just be a bit of prejudice, but every single Forensics team she's dealt with in San Francisco were rude beyond beliefe and treated her and August like they were stupid, like they hadn't gone through any training.

The two of them hardly even noticed August and her, quietly talking to themselves as they worked. The guy apparently said something funny, making the woman laugh lightly. They left the two of them alone.

Splitting up August went to talk to the first responding police officers, leaving Marissa to survey the scene. This is how they always did it, this is why the two of them worked so well together. August always talked to suspects and officers, leaving the scene to Marissa.

Marissa walked a perimeter, looking around at different angles, knowing that anything could help. As she looked around something started to bother her, this scene, this crime itself, was oddly familiar, oddly something she felt she should know.

With furrowed eyebrows and confusion Marissa continued to look around, but as she got closer to the Forensics team she started to see all the things that looked familiar, making her even more confused.

On the other side of the car, Marrisa saw that the driver's windowsill was covered in blood, so was the seat and steering wheel. It was odd how familiar all of this seemed, but there wasn't much she could do until the Forensics told her about what they'd found.

Walking back over to August she zoned out, trying to place why all of this was so God damned familiar, but she was getting nowhere, only getting frustrated in herself. She drank the coffee that August had given her early, she zoned in and out of August questioning, and she debated on falling asleep as she stood there, but as per usual when she wanted to sleep she wasn't able too.

August, finally finishing up, guided the two of them over to the Forensics team, who were started to clean up. The guy noticed first that they were coming over, lightly pushing the girl in the shoulder.

The guy was all smiles, skinny with a pair of wireframe glasses. The woman was also skinny, but very tall, looking like a beanpole. The two of them told them about what they'd found, what they thought may have happened, and about the two victims.

Victim one was a young woman named Stacy Lamburdas. She lived not that far away, she was married, worked at a little restaurant, and had been the driver. She had been shot 4 times and did not survive.

Victim two was a young man named Darcy Monroe. He was one of the many people that Stacy had been having affairs with. He also lived not far away, working as a deliveryman for the post office. He had been shot 8 times. Miraculously he survived.

Marissa was furiously scribbling into a notepad she had, taking down all the details she thought was important.

"It's funny isn't it?" the guy said, pushing his glasses up. Marissa raised an eyebrow in question, but she didn't look up.

"It's the 51st anniversary, and it's a complete carbon copy." Marissa now looked up, more confused, the woman seemed to notice.

"It's the 51st anniversary of the first killings of the Zodiac Killer, and this scene is very similar," Marissa stalled, his vision tunneling. The two Forensics kept talking, August keeping the conversation going, but Marissa wasn't paying attention.

This is why it was so familiar, why this all looked like something she knew.

The 51st anniversary huh?

Lord help them if this was a copy cat.

#short story #original story

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nimsajlove · 4 years ago

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Calling home

Waxer never had his chance to return to Numa, but with Ahsoka as an independent General he, at least, can call home and take a look at his big vod’ika.

Brothers-AU Ao3

“Coming home”

*~*

"Let's pack up!", Ahsoka shouted over the noise of the camp and closed the hatch of the quarters next to her. Some men clapped sporadically, others grabbed things without wandering around and seemed to draw fresh energy in the process. The mood was much better than in the last few days, it conjured up a smile on Ahsoka's face as well. Nobody of them liked, to be stuck at a place for too long.

She was lifting a crate into the air and getting it onto one of the gunships, when someone tapped her shoulder. Fives. "What's up?", she asked and put down the box, her brother pushed the holoprojector into her hand. He smiled but was silent. Sighing, she gripped the projector tighter. Well, she hadn't expected any leaps of joy from him lately... She switched on the little device and gave the Admiral a friendly smile. "I have a request from Commander Cody, I'll put it through." A heartbeat later, the image of the clone flickered, what did Cody want from her? Was he going to claim his favor? "Hey, what can I do for you?", she grinned and Cody on the other end shrugged in amusement. Fives the same, he was still standing next to her and watched over her shoulder, it warmed her heart that he showed interest in what was happening. "I want to ask you for a little favor." "So you want to claim my guilt?", she asked teasingly, but found less humor than before. Cody's figure sagged a little, he shook his head. “No, it's not for me. For Boil.” Ahsoka looked down and rubbed her temple absently, she knew Boil. She had known Waxer too, he had fallen on Umbara and she had to admit that Boil hasn't been the same since. It was like Fives after Echo was gone. Her heart contracted a little before it skipped a beat and continued, slightly accelerating. In her memory, she hadn't done the slightest enough for her brother back then. So if she could help someone else now...

"What do you need?" She asked softly and pulled back a little, Fives like a shadow behind her. Cody visibly relaxed and took off his helmet, looking tired. “Could you make a stop on Ryloth? I would take care of it myself, but...” He broke off and raised a hand helplessly. Ahsoka nodded, knowing the troops had their hands full. The war had picked up speed and Cody couldn't go on a little trip alone. Even if she wasn't dying to return to Ryloth. Maybe it would help her too, to see the planet rebuilt and peaceful. "Who should I look for?“, she asked. “Numa, a girl. Turquoise Twi’lek. She was connected to Waxer and Boil and I thought it would help him, to hear from her. They had promised her, to come back.” His voice fell silent and although she had never seen Cody cry or mourn, she recognized the hunched shoulders and the tilt of his head. Appo had been bowed as well after each loss. The instinct to protrect her brothers kicked now fully in. "I'll take care of it, don't worry."

*~*

The equipment was not fully unloaded when Ahsoka was already preparing a smaller ship. She waved Rex over to her, Fives was still her shadow and hadn't dared to take his eyes off her. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't find any reason to send him away either. “Rex, I'll fly a little detour. The cruiser should take the normal route to the next system.”, she instructed as she climbed around on the ship and made a few final checks. In her time as a pilot, she really appreciated having seen everything for herself before a flight. She was already expecting questions to which she didn't necessarily had an answer. But Rex just nodded. “I know, Cody called me. May I suggest, that you take Fives with you?", he called up to her and elegantly she swung herself back on the floor, briefly patted her hands on her pants and then looked over at Fives. "If you want to. It would be lovely.", she smiled and Fives grinned back. "I would have come with you anyway, after the whole thing one of us owes it Waxer.", he explained and Ahsoka saw out of the corner of her eye, how Rex’s fingers twitched briefly. She put her hand on his soothingly, guilt was out of place here. "It's okay.", she mumbled and the Captain nodded curtly, two seconds passed until he had recovered. One thing was certain, she would never lead her men to Umbara again. Most of them were at risk of having seizures just by the name. She would probably never understand the horror.

*~*

She set out with Fives, Ryloth was reached quickly. Without the battle over the planet, it actually looked peaceful and somehow beautiful. They landed and with a sigh, Ahsoka dug out her datapad, it contained the old reports from von the battle for Ryloth. The coordinates of Kenobi's first point of action were found quickly, they were not far away and Ahsoka got up. "Well then, if we go now, we will reach the city before dark.", she smiled and Fives got up too, in silence he pulled the helmet over his head and grabbed one of the packed backpacks. She took over the other and together they left the ship.

They walked side by side in silence for a few minutes, then Ahsoka couldn't stand it any longer. She understood that Fives preferred to keep quiet. But she missed his voice so much! "You don't have to do this.", she muttered and Fives shrugged his shoulders, he smiled slightly. “I know, but I've heard a lot from the kid and I think it might help Boil. He has no one left. I don't know what I would have done without the others.", he explained and gave her a warm look, again there was brief silence. She, too, had heard a lot about Numa; Waxer had proudly worn her on his helmet. Maybe it would really help Boil. Besides, Numa deserved someone to tell her about the soldier's death. She didn't know how she would feel, if she happened to find out that one of her brothers was dead by accident.

Finding the city wasn't a challenge, but Numa was. Most of the villagers could only speak the local dialect and ignored her and Fives. Annoyed, Ahsoka gave up after two attempts to ask for directions. She should have listened to Master Kenobi closer, when he told her about foreign languages. "And what now?", she huffed and looked up, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon. "At least we will need a place to stay.", Fives mumbled next to her and together they walked a few steps, the wide main street was still busy and full of twi’lek. She was just looking around when the hand on her arm came out of nowhere. It was a girl, almost a young woman, who had grabbed her wrist. Fives next to her tensed and took half a step towards the stranger before Ahsoka calmly raised her hand. "It's okay.", she smiled at him and the Twi’lek tugged lightly on her arm. She was babbling something, a great flood of words. And in the middle of it all, a name, Numa. "Numa?", Ahsoka asked and the girl broke off, then nodded and pointed in a direction. Finally someone who could help them. "That way?", Ahsoka asked and pointed with a palm in the same direction, the girl nodded affirmatively and went ahead. There wasn't much left for the Jedi and the clone to do but follow.

The way was not far, they stopped in a narrow alley and the girl pushed open a door before letting the other two in. It was cooler inside than on the street and a lamp gave off its light pale. The girl called out a little louder, another voice answered from the top of a staircase next to them. Then the slim figure came down to them, the turquoise Twi’lek was no longer a small child. More like a teenager, she glanced at her guests and then shook her head. A few words were exchanged between the two girls, words Ahsoka couldn't understand. "Are you Numa?", she asked and the two Twi’lek fell silent. "Yes, I am.", the older one answered and nudged the other one lightly on the shoulder, she was quickly gone up the stairs. "But who are you?", she asked carefully and pointed to a table with a couple of chairs. She and Ahsoka sat down, Fives stood behind the Togruta and simply put down the backpack. "I'm Ahsoka Tano, this is Fives.", Ahsoka introduced themself and Numa looked down thoughtfully. “So Waxer isn't coming back? And neither is Boil? Are they dead?”, she asked, her voice calm and controlled. As if she had been waiting for this day, knowing it was coming. And Ahsoka couldn't lie to her. “Waxer fell on Umbara, yes. Im sorry.“

There was a second of silence, Numas eyes where squeezed shut, when Ahsoka spoke up again. „But we're also coming because of Boil.", she explained and rummaged in her backpack next to her, smiling, she pulled out the long-distance transmitter and placed it on the table before she switched it on and entered a number. Nothing happened for a while, then a figure appeared. "Hey Cody, I've arrived.", Ahsoka announced and Cody didn't hesitate long, he seemed to be tapping onto something. "Give me a second." he said and then turned around and pulled someone into the picture.

"Nerra!" The exclamation almost knocked Boil off his feet and he swayed briefly, before Cody grabbed his elbow and held him upright. "Numa..." He smiled, Ahsoka could hear it. She looked over at Fives, he too had a small smile on his face and she got up. Satisfied, she hooked her arm under his and they went outside with the backpacks. Sighing, they sat down on the slightly dusty floor in front of the house and Ahsoka leaned back against her brother. Fives wrapped an arm around her and whenever they heard Numas laugh, they both smiled into the darkness.

#star wars #clone wars #ahsoka tano #clone trooper fives #clone trooper rex #clone trooper cody #clone trooper boil #numa #ryloth #clone captain rex #clone commander cody #brothers au

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violetwolfraven · 4 years ago

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Ghost Guitar Battle (3/3)

((Part 3 of Violet is a fucking idiot and couldn’t help herself from pursuing a random idea when she has actual requests sitting in her inbox. I’m so sorry y’all.))

Part 1 here.

Part 2 here.

I am well aware that this is corny as fuck but whatever. Also I know I tagged this as flarrie but it’s just in the background.

Warnings: depression symptoms, parent death mentions, character feeling out of control/mind control.

...

Nick didn’t know how long he was just kind of floating in darkness.

It was dark, but it was the kind of darkness where there weren’t shadows, it wasn’t night, there was just nothing there.

A few minutes could have passed or a few months. Nick wasn’t sure. All he really knew was that he was alone, just sitting there in the dark with his guitar.

Not like the stupid thing did him any good. If he tried to play, it just sounded muted. Whatever this void thing was, it didn’t have good acoutstics.

Everything in here was muted. Nick guessed it was convenient it sounded bad when he played, since he didn’t feel like playing anyway. He wasn’t bored, scared, sad, or whatever. Everything just felt... flat. It felt like he’d been sitting there forever.

“Nick?”

Wait, did someone just say his name?

Nick stood up, turning around and seeing—

“You’re Julie’s guitarist.”

“Yeah,” the guy nodded, “Hi. My name’s Luke.”

“Did Caleb get you, too?”

Luke shook his head, “No. Well, almost, once, but... no.”

“Then how are you... you’re a ghost.”

God, everything made sense now. How Julie’s hologram thing worked and why she didn’t perform at that dance. Why it seemed like she talked to herself so much lately. Why Caleb was so interested in her in the first place.

Hell, Julie had called him ‘Luke’ by mistake once. She’d been thinking about this guy.

“Yeah,” Luke agreed, “I’m a ghost. Long story short, no other ghosts can be seen by lifers when they play, so Caleb wants me under his control.”

“That’s why he came after me,” Nick realized, “I could get to Julie and Julie could get to you.”

Luke nodded, “Exactly. Only he slipped up pretending to be you. Carrie noticed and told Flynn and Julie. We came up with a plan to have me come in here and help you push him out.”

“Another ghost tried to help me. It didn’t work.”

“Wait, Willie? You saw Willie?”

“Yeah, but...” Nick sighed, “Caleb made him fade away. I don’t know what happened to him.”

“Oh. Okay. He’s my bandmate’s... he’s a friend, and we haven’t heard from him since he tried to help you. That’s why I asked.”

“Well, I don’t know. So... sorry.”

He was expecting Luke to leave, but he didn’t. He just fiddled with the strap of the electric guitar he was holding.

“So... what do you wanna play?”

“What?”

“I’m here to back you up, Nick. I can’t push Caleb out for you.”

Nick didn’t feel like laughing, but he did anyway, just at the hopelessness.

“I can’t push him out,” he said, “He’s too powerful.”

“You can,” Luke insisted, “This is your mind. You’re playing on your home turf.”

“But I’m not the one in control.”

“But you can get it back.”

“No, I can’t! I’m not good enough.”

“Not good—“ Luke cut off, sighing, “You think I thought I was good enough when I first started booking gigs with my band when I was alive?”

Nick didn’t even know what to say here.

“I was younger than you are now,” Luke said, “I was 15 when I started out. You think I thought I was as good as the bands with twice the experience and twice the recognition? No. But I acted like I did, because if you don’t at least pretend to believe in yourself, no one else will. You gotta sell yourself, Nick. Fake it till you make it.”

“I don’t think that’s how this works,” Nick muttered, “The stakes are higher than a gig.”

“This isn’t about the stakes. Don’t think about those. This is just about the music. Don’t think about the consequences, don’t worry about what’ll happen if it doesn’t work, just play. Feel the music. You’re a musician, so it’s a part of you.”

Nick still hesitated. He knew he couldn’t overpower Caleb, so what was the point?

“Come on,” Luke said, starting up a few quiet chords, “I believe in you. If nothing else, wouldn’t you rather say you tried?”

Nick picked up his guitar.

He started playing hesitantly, a sad song he’d picked up out of self-pity after Julie rejected him, before he made the mistake of getting off his butt and out of his house to give it one last shot.

He didn’t get very far in the song.

“Wha—stop, stop, stop. What was that?”

“I told you,” Nick said, vaguely irritated, “I’m not good enough.”

“No,” Luke shook his head, “No, your technique was fine. It was pretty good, actually, but you weren’t putting any of yourself into the music.”

Nick snorted, “Why do you care? We don’t know each other.”

And if you‘re close with Julie, you probably know about me as the guy who has a crush on her so why would you try to save me?

“You’re right, but this isn’t about me,” Luke insisted, “This is about you. You need to dig deeper, really connect to the music. Play something that’s you.”

Something that was him...

Nick was still hesitant to listen to the ghost his crush had a crush on, but...

He focused in deeper, and what started coming out when he started playing again was a tune something like an early 2000s pop/rock song. It was still sad, but definitely more him.

“There you go,” Luke said, but Nick wasn’t listening.

Playing guitar while feeling this deeply inside his own mind was trippy. It was almost like he could see and hear—

“I know, but what was I supposed to do, Chad?”

Nick was sitting at the kitchen table and picking at his spaghetti while eavesdropping on Ryan talking on the phone with his boyfriend in the next room.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Ryan. Nick did like Ryan. But he still really just wanted his mom. The walls were thin here, and he could hear everything that was being said about him.

“I already told you this, but sure, we can go through it again. His mom, Amanda, is in my musical theatre program. Always shows up late and half-asses choreography. We all thought she was a slacker, but then a couple months ago she unloaded the fact that she’s a single mom and can barely afford to pay for a babysitter for her kid. She’s only in school at all because she got a scholarship.”

There was a pause, and Nick wondered what this Chad guy was saying on the other side. He wondered what Chad was like in real life. He was smiling in the picture Ryan had on his counter.

“His dad’s not in the picture. Amanda never said why, but... yeah, you can still come visit, but you should be prepared for the fact that Nick’s gonna be here. In fact...”

Nick heard Ryan sigh and felt a strong sense of dread at the change in his tone of voice.

“Amanda’s been in the hospital a week and she’s not getting any better. The way everyone keeps talking, I don’t think she ever will.”

That made Nick want to cry. Everyone kept telling him he was strong for dealing with his mom being sick, but he didn’t want to be strong. He just wanted her back, and it sounded like Ryan didn’t think that was going to happen.

“No, no grandparents. Amanda doesn’t have any family. None that she talks to, at least.”

Nick was really trying not to cry now, because... because if he thought about what would happen if his mom didn’t get better, besides how he would miss her, what would happen to him?

“Of course I want to take him, Chad. Nick is my friend’s son. He’s 5 years old and he has nowhere else to go.”

What was he talking about? Taking Nick where?

“Yeah, I know I’m a little young for this, but if I don’t take him, they’re gonna put him in the foster system. Nick’s been through enough. The last thing he needs is to get dumped with some stranger.”

If it was a choice between Ryan and a stranger, Nick knew what he’d choose, but he didn’t want that choice. He just wanted his mom back.

“Chad, I already decided. I’ll use my parents’ lawyers if I have to, but I’m taking Nick in. But... I don’t blame you if you wanna bail. You signed on for me. Not some kid you’ve never met.”

Nick didn’t want Ryan to lose his boyfriend because of him. That would be bad. They looked so happy in that picture on the counter.

Then he heard Ryan laugh.

“Okay, point made. You can meet him when you visit this weekend. You’ll like him. Nick’s a really sweet kid. Love you. Bye.”

Nick couldn’t hide his tears when Ryan opened the door and came back into the main room of the apartment.

“Hey,” he said, kneeling down to be on Nick’s level, “Hey, kiddo, it’s okay. It looks like you’re gonna be living with me for a little longer.”

“You think I’m gonna live with you forever,” Nick accused, “You and Chad. You think my mom’s not gonna get better.”

Ryan froze, then sighed, “I guess you heard me, huh?”

“Your stupid walls are stupid thin,” Nick grumbled.

“My stupid walls are stupid thin, aren’t they? Maybe the wall fairy should come fix them.”

Ryan seemed kind of discouraged with how Nick didn’t find that funny.

“Look,” he said quietly, “Nick, I know I’m not your dad. I’m not even like a cool uncle. I’m just your mom’s friend who wasn’t even that good of a friend until a little while ago. Before that, I was kind of a stupid stinky friend and that’s why she didn’t let you meet me—because she knew I was stinky and she was taking care of you.”

“She always takes care of me,” Nick sniffled.

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, “Because she loves you. Your mom loves you so much, and that’s never going to change. It’s just that... pretty soon, she won’t be able to take care of you anymore. While she can’t, I wanna to do it for her. Is that okay?”

Nick just wanted things to go back to normal, but... well, Ryan was better than some stranger, if those were the only options.

Little Nick had been devastated when his mom died. It still made him sad sometimes that she was gone, but he had a few nice memories of her to look back on.

And plus, she’d been so busy with work and school that he’d rarely seen her, honestly. Nick had spent most of his early childhood with various babysitters until Ryan got custody.

And besides, especially since Ryan and Chad graduated and moved in together, he had more happy memories of them.

The music shifted to be less melancholy as Nick smiled, thinking of growing up with his dads. The first couple months where Chad clearly had no idea how small children worked but tried so hard to make Nick like him anyway. The confusion of them trying to navigate the system and register him for school. Moving to Albuquerque briefly after the 3 year program Ryan was in ended.

“Nick!” Chad chided, taking the bowl of cookie dough away, “You’re not gonna have any room for dinner!”

“What’s the problem with that?” Ryan asked with a smirk, “You’re a really bad cook.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Nick shot back, “You’re a really bad cook.”

It made him a little nervous when they both froze up a bit.

Nick was well aware that he’d never called Chad or Ryan ‘dad’ before. He wasn’t sure if they were even okay with him calling them that.

He just... wanted to try it out.

Chad and Ryan had taken pictures of him on his first day of kindergarten. They’d taken care of him when he got strep throat the November of 1st grade. Ryan had taught him to sing and Chad hadn’t been phased when Nick showed zero flair for basketball and instead got into little league lacrosse.

They felt like his parents, so Nick wanted to try calling them that.

Then Chad smiled, ruffling his hair, “Well, you can’t cook at all, little man, so I’d curb the sass.”

“Yeah, cause he’s 8 years old,” Ryan objected, “Still, Nick could open a cookbook right now and be better than you. I feel bad for Gabriella and all the other Wildcats’ partners. Zeke can cook so well because none of the rest of you can.”

“What, you think he absorbed the culinary ability from the whole team?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a bad cook too, Dad,” Nick pointed out.

Ryan gasped in fake offense and Chad laughed.

“Can we get pizza?”

“Oh, Chad, he’s definitely your child.”

“You’re blaming me for our kid having good taste in food?”

The tune was evolving again, into a more current style, optimistic and fun. Memories of learning the hard way that he was a really bad dancer and both him and his dads laughing it off. Messing around in their closet and stealing/borrowing old clothes they didn’t use anymore. Missing them when they went to away games or took acting gigs out of town, but being happy for them and cheering them on whenever school didn’t interfere.

Moving to California after Chad graduated and got signed by the Lakers, conveniently around the same time Ryan and Nick’s Aunt Sharpay decided to try out Hollywood and see how different it was from Broadway.

Nick was grinning now, thinking back on all those happy memories.

“What’s up, kiddo? How was school today?”

Nick dodged Chad’s attempt to hug him, “Gross, Dad, you’re all sweaty.

“Well, I was at practice all day, so... the sweat monster’s gonna get you!”

10-year-old Nick yelped, abandoning his homework to run away as his dad chased him around the house, only for them to run headfirst into Ryan and all three of them to fall to the ground.

“First, Chad, go take a shower. Second, is that my black fedora, Nick?”

Nick shrugged, “You don’t wear it.”

“I do too.”

“Not recently.”

Ryan looked like he wanted to argue, but realized he couldn’t, and that made Nick laugh.

“Shush, little man. Ask next time you borrow it. Chad, again, go take a shower.”

“Sure,” Chad stood up, “Meanwhile, you packed your things, right Nick?”

Nick nodded proudly, “Yup.”

“Great. Reunion’s tomorrow, so we’re flying to Albuquerque tonight.”

Should be fun,” Ryan added, “I think it’ll be the first time the whole gang’s in one place since graduation. Cause Sharpay missed the first year, Zeke’s flight got cancelled the second...”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to see everyone.”

Nick tilted his head, “Why’s everybody coming this year?”

As far as he knew, there was nothing special about a 6-year reunion. Or 2014. And the former Wildcats were all pretty busy most of the time, being the successful people that they were. If someone couldn’t make it, it wasn’t like the others would hold it against them.

Nick’s dads exchanged a glance and he realized they were hiding something. He wasn’t sure exactly what, but...

“What’s so special about this year?” he asked, “Don’t say nothing. I can tell it’s not nothing.”

They had another silent conversation before either of them actually answered the question.

“We weren’t gonna tell you until we got there,” Ryan admitted, “Cause it’s kind of a surprise, but you’re gonna be spending some time with Aunt Sharpay this summer.”

“Or Troy and Gabriella,” Chad added, “We made her promise she’d drive you over there if you got tired of her.”

Nick couldn’t see himself admitting he was tired of Aunt Sharpay even if he did get tired of her, but that wasn’t why he was confused.

“Why? Where are you gonna be?”

“On our honeymoon,” Chad answered, “Everyone’s in town this year is cause we’re getting married.”

They were clearly worried about his reaction, but they didn’t have to be because despite being only 10, Nick wasn’t blind. He’d seen this coming a mile away and just been waiting on when specifically it was going to happen.

“I want a little sister or brother.”

They both laughed, and Nick tried not to cringe too much at the sweat when they did a family group hug.

The chords he was strumming now felt suspiciously like some kind of love ballad, like the kind of 90’s songs that had played at his dads’ wedding. It brought back dancing with his Aunt Sharpay and various others of his parents’ friends. Stepping on more than a few former Wildcats toes, of course on accident. Kind of bitterly plotting the kind of mischief he was going to teach the others’ kids when the time came that he finally wasn’t the only kid anymore.

Of course, that brought back memories of that angsty phase Nick went through in his tween years, when he first started realizing exactly how young his parents were to have a kid his age and questioning if they ever would’ve taken him in if there was another option.

That hadn’t been a fun train of thought. The mood of the music dipped in response, corresponding to the anxiety Nick had felt about how his dads had adopted him because they felt like they had to, not because they wanted to. That phase had ended when he decided it didn’t matter as long as they wanted him now, but it had influenced how he’d acted around Lizzie when they first met.

Lizzie had been almost 4 when they adopted her into the family, an orphan like Nick who’s parents had died in a car crash. Now, of course, she was a sassy 8-year-old firecracker who goaded him into playing with her instead of doing his homework, but she’d been a lot more skittish when she was younger. And tween Nick had always tried not to act cold to her, but it wasn’t like he knew anything about being a big brother at the time and he didn’t always succeed.

The music took on a tune almost like a sadder, more complicated version of a child’s nursery rhyme.

Lizzie was a tiny person, and despite the fact that Nick had been the one to ask for a little sibling in the first place, he had no idea how to act around her.

It seemed like that feeling was double-sided, with how Lizzie seemed a little bit scared of him, so at least it wasn’t like he was the only one playing an avoidance game, here. They were avoiding each other. It was mutual.

That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t die for her, because even if they hadn’t gotten much chance to get to know each other in the month since she’d been adopted into their family, she was still his little sister. Despite the disconnect, Nick cared for her more than he knew how to say.

But he really wished he knew how to say it, considering Lizzie was crying and they were in a public place and he was just very awkwardly trying to calm her down and look for their dads at the same time.

You’d think it would be easier to spot an NBA player and a famous actor taking a break from their careers to take their kids to Disneyland.

Nick knew that in the event he got lost, he was supposed to stay in one place so that they could find him, but staying in one place was a lot less daunting when he wasn’t trying to comfort a crying 4-year-old.

“Shh, Lizzie, they’re gonna come find us,” he said, rubbing her back and trying to talk calm, “You’ll see. They’re looking for us right now.”

He didn’t say how he struggled with the thought that if it came down to it and something dangerous happened and they had to choose between looking for Lizzie and looking for him, he didn’t know what their dads would choose.

Nick shoved those thoughts down and tried to say more comforting things, but Lizzie just wouldn’t stop crying. The noise of the crowd definitely was not helping, only stressing her out more. Nick had no idea how to calm her down, except... maybe to distract her?

“Hey, Lizzie, can you tell me your favorite princess?”

Lizzie sniffled, looking up at him with way too much of a look like a kicked puppy.

“Cinderella,” she said in her tiny little voice.

“I like Cinderella, too,” he agreed, “Yeah. You know what Cinderella likes to do? She likes to dance. We’re gonna dance, okay? You can stand on my feet.”

Lizzie stood up, stepping up to stand on Nick’s shoes, and he hummed a Disney princess song, just swaying around in a circle and holding his little sister’s hands.

To, honestly, his absolute shock, it actually seemed to be working. She wasn’t crying anymore, at least, and she actually seemed to be calming down.

Nick made a mental note that princess dance parties were a good thing to do with small children.

Naturally, the guitar shifted to sound like the kind of emo music Nick was listening to in middle school, around the time when he first met Carrie and Julie and Flynn and the guys on the lacrosse team. A few bars sounded suspiciously like the showtunes his dad had showed him at that age, too, in an attempt to get him into theatre.

It wasn’t that Nick didn’t enjoy theatre, but he still preferred music to acting. He and his lacrosse buddies did do team-building parties where they watched musicals and danced and sang to them, though.

Those parties usually ended up being at Nick’s house, given that it was big and all the guys had pretty much become honorary additional big brothers to Lizzie anyway.

Also, given that Los Feliz was most known for its music program and definitely not for its sports, the guys all thought Ryan was as cool as Chad. And even though most of them had supportive parents of their own, the good half of the team that wasn’t straight seemed to find it reassuring that two gay men could be happy and raise a family together.

And despite the time conflict it created, they were all super supportive when Nick took up guitar.

The song he was playing now sounded a lot like the beginner songs he’d learned when he first discovered his flair for the intrument.

“Dude, you’re gonna get all the girls now.”

Nick laughed, “Bro, we’re only freshmen!”

“But girls like guys who can play guitar!”

“Tyler, you’re gay!”

“I still know girls find guitar attractive!”

“He’s right,” Ethan agreed, laughing, “Girls like guitars.”

“Oddly enough, boys like ‘em too,” Anthony chimed in, “I mean I know you’re straight, Nick, but...”

The thing was, Nick wasn’t completely sure he was. He knew 14 was about the age a lot of people started to figure out their sexualities, and lately... he’d found himself getting butterflies as much when Tyler actually managed to score in their games or Kai showed off his percussion skills in marching band as when Carrie let him tag along to her practices with her band and attacked every dance move or Julie played piano and sang with that amazing voice of hers.

The realization didn’t really scare him or anything. Nick guessed he’d known for a while, but just hadn’t put a label on it even in his head until now.

“I think I’m pan,” he admitted, “Like, pansexual.”

“Amen, bro,” Kai said with zero hesitation, “Girls are cute, boys are cute, nonbinary kids are cute, it’s whatever.”

Nick laughed and accepted a high five.

“Yeah, thanks for telling us,” Ethan agreed, “Not that it really matters, but let us know if anybody gives you trouble.”

Tyler nodded solemnly, “They’ll rue the day they messed with the Los Feliz lacrosse team.”

“Of course, ignoring the fact that none of us are very intimidating.”

“Oh, shut up, Chase.”

They all groaned, and Kai grabbed the TV remote to turn something on and tune out the logical person in the room.

“We lose every game,” Chase pointed out defensively, “I mean, no hate, Nick. Being pan is totally pantastic, but—“

They all laughed too much for him to finish that sentence, at which point Nick’s dads entered the room.

“Keep it down, boys, Lizzie’s asleep,” Chad scolded quietly.

All the boys apologized quietly and Kai turned the volume on the beginning of Tangled down.

“What’s so funny, anyway?” Ryan asked.

Nick grinned up at him, “I’m pansexual, dad.”

“Oh. Okay, cool. Want me to buy you a pan flag?”

“Look!” Luke exclaimed suddenly, almost making Nick lose focus and stop playing.

The darkness was getting lighter, the shadows receding. They were standing back on the stage at the high school and Nick wasn’t feeling hopeless anymore. It was still darker than it would normally be, but barely.

“You’re doing it! Keep going!”

The memories became shorter and more random, but Nick dug deep into his emotions and played harder, bringing back—

“Lizzie, you’re getting too big to stand on my feet!”

“Maybe you should grow faster!”

and

“Carrie... uh... would you want to maybe go out sometime? Like to a movie?”

“Um... yeah. Sure, why not?”

and

“God, I really feel for Julie. I remember how bad it hurt when I lost my mom.”

“You’d think she’d realize there’s no better way to channel your feelings than through music.”

“Carrie—“

“I’m just saying, we both know how it feels to lose mothers, and did Julie come to either of us for advice? No. She’s pushed away everyone except Flynn. I feel for her too, but I’m done trying to help when she clearly isn’t willing to accept it.”

and

“Carrie wasn’t helping, Nick. Maybe she meant to, but she was pushing way too hard. She of all people should know how deeply Julie feels things.”

“Flynn, I didn’t mean to—“

“I know. Unlike your girlfriend, you actually care about people.”

and

“I want a puppy.”

“I agree with Lizzie that we should get a puppy.”

“Hmm, Ryan, what do you think? Should we get the kids a puppy?”

“I think we should wait until I’m home from tour and then we should absolutely get a puppy.”

and

“She’s not bad, Tyler, just stressed out. You and the guys keep acting like she’s demon spawn, but the fact is that Carrie’s human. She makes mistakes and tries to play them off so people will keep thinking she’s perfect. She’s got the world watching her every move and I know what it’s like. It’s not easy having a famous parent, especially since she’s a performer with a radically different style than the shadow she’s trying to break out of.”

“I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m saying she said yes to being your girlfriend because you’re both popular and therefore make sense together. She doesn’t like you. I’m pretty sure Carrie doesn’t even like guys and is just too scared to come out and go after someone she actually wants. Plus, she talks down to you, like, all the time. I’m gonna stay your friend no matter what, but you have to see that yeah, maybe Carrie’s got it tough, but she’s not good for you and it doesn’t seem like she even wants to be.”

and

“This isn’t working out. I think we should to break up.”

“You think we should, or you want to break up because you have a crush on Julie?”

“What about your crush on Flynn?”

“What?! I do not have a crush on—“

“I know you well enough to know, Carrie, so cut the crap. I’m not stupid. You and me never really felt that way about each other and we both know it. We were together because it was convenient and it was easier than making a move on someone one of us actually had feelings for.

“Fine. Just try not to run back to me if you chicken out from pursuing a real, heart-stopping, complicated crush again. It’d be embarrassing to make the same mistake twice.”

and

“Julie is totally into you, man.”

“Shut up, Kai.”

“I mean not that I’d know, but she’s cute, right?”

“Shut up, Tyler.”

and

“Julie rejected me. She has a crush on the guitarist in her band.”

“Oh, dang. That’s rough, kiddo.”

“It’s fine, dad. It’s really on me. She had a crush on me for a while, but I was too occupied with Carrie to pay attention. And besides, I know high school relationships rarely last forever, so...”

“Hey, look at who you’re talking to. If you really like Julie, she’s worth one more try. You know, buy her some flowers and give it one last shot. But if she says no...”

“Respect that and leave her alone, I know.”

With one last chord, a terrified tri-tone that represented Nick’s fear when Caleb first possessed him, the shadows fully disapated, leaving Nick in a well-lit, very familiar theatre.

He wasn’t afraid anymore. He had his friends and his sister and his dads behind him, with him no matter what.

And Nick still wasn’t a hundred percent sure how that had just worked, but he could feel Caleb’s hold over him disappearing. The stage was fading not because he was getting shoved down out of control, but because he was regaining control of where his body was in real life.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Luke said with a grin, “Good luck.”

He poofed away, and Nick found himself in that club Caleb had manifested when he won the first fight for control. He guessed the ghost had snuck him here between lacrosse practice and curfew.

There were a bunch of 20-somethings in brightly colored costumes who seemed to be practicing a dance nearby, but none of them were paying him any mind. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like Caleb was there, though Nick couldn’t feel him in his head anymore.

Whatever. He could see the exit from here, and from there he could find Julie and her band and help them beat that crazy dead magician.

Well, maybe he should go home first, and see his little sister. Find his phone and call the guys for a musical watch party as soon as possible. Definitely hug his dads, since the Broadway musical one of them was touring in was in town.

Nick knew he couldn’t tell them how he’d won a guitar battle for his soul, but he could enjoy that victory by himself, too.

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #nick danforth evans #ryan evans #chad danforth #carrie wilson #flynn jatp #julie molina #lacrosse team jatp #luke patterson #chyan #flarrie #ghost guitar battle #depression tw #mind control tw #parent death tw #violet’s writing

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