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loftylockjaw · 10 months ago

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: Felix’s apartment. PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) & Felix (@recoveringdreamer) SUMMARY: Wyatt and Felix cook dinner together, and open up to one another a bit more during the process, at which point the lamia realizes that his friend doesn’t want to be a fighter in the Pit. CONTENT WARNINGS: None.

—

It was rare for Felix to hang out with other fighters outside the Pit. They’d done it a time or two with Samir, but it always made things so much harder. Fighting against someone you knew in a brutal cage match was hard enough, but when it was a friend? Someone you cared about, spent time with? It was so much more difficult to swallow.

But… they liked Wyatt. He was funny, and he seemed cool. And maybe they’d be matched up against one another in some fight in the near future, but who was to say they couldn’t be friends anyway? Wyatt wouldn’t hold what happened in the Pit against Felix any more than Samir did, any more than Felix would hold it against him. And besides… they really did want to try the lamia’s cooking.

So, they pulled open the door with a smile at that expected knock, offered Wyatt a wave. “Hey!” They greeted. “The kitchen’s just through here. Um, ignore Cosmo. He’s — He lives here. I think Milo said he’s a brownie? He bites. But not usually!”

—

Wyatt, for his part, didn’t seem to have the same difficulty separating work from pleasure. He and other fighters had socialized outside of Pit operating hours—mostly partying to push down and forget the grisly events of the evening, sometimes more private extracurriculars to resolve any lingering anger or frustration toward one another, which was usually directed at Wyatt, since he had yet to lose a fight. But Felix was one of the few fighters that defied these stereotypes, and encouraged Wyatt to put a different part of himself on display. One he liked better, if he was honest, and that felt more real. So it was no surprise that he latched on to them, seeking their approval of these more honest character traits… not that it was difficult to get Felix to like him. It was impressively easy, actually, since the balam was probably one of the more considerate, sensitive souls Wyatt had encountered in his life. Why they had become a fighter at the Pit was unknown, but there was clearly a story there. Probably not a happy one. Wyatt wouldn’t push it.

“Cosmo… the brownie.” It was a question hidden behind the even tone of a statement, Wyatt’s brows raising as he stepped into the apartment. “Gotta assume you’re not talkin’ ‘bout a sentient dessert, so…” He didn’t know what the fuck a brownie was, and now he kind of wanted to see one, biting or not. Following Felix to the kitchen, the chef set his bags of ingredients on the counter, getting the more temperature sensitive ones into the fridge until it was time to use them. “Not that I don’t think I can take a nibble from whatever Cosmo is, but… there a way to help prevent that from happenin’?”

—

“He’s…” Felix trailed off, trying to think of the best way to describe their ‘roommate.’ Milo’s friends had been kind enough to tell them what the little guy was called, but since Felix wasn’t really sure what a brownie was, the clarification didn’t help much. “I don’t know. He’s just a little guy. With ears.” Not the best explanation, but, honestly? Felix didn’t think Wyatt would hold it against him. Of everyone they’d met in the Grit Pit with the exception of Samir, Wyatt seemed the most willing to treat them with kindness. He didn’t get irritated at their tendency towards getting tongue-tied, didn’t get angry with their frequent struggle to understand things that had changed a little too much in the years they’d spent living in the woods. Wyatt was nice. Sometimes, Felix worried that that was just because they hadn’t had to fight each other yet, that that kindness would go away the first time Wildcat and Lockjaw faced off in the ring, but that thought was an easy one to push away. Felix liked to ignore problems like that until it became impossible to do so. It wasn’t a great strategy.

They led Wyatt into the kitchen, gesturing for him to place his ingredients on the counter and glancing down to the cabinet where Cosmo liked to hang out. “He’s nicer when you give him food,” they offered. “He likes sweets a lot. There’s a tin of cookies by the microwave, if you give him a couple of those, he’ll probably be chill. But, um… Sometimes he starts sweeping, when you do that? And he’s bad at it. Sweeping, I mean. We haven’t gotten him a broom his size yet, so he’s got, like, no control. He just swings it around. He hit me with it once, but I don’t think he meant to, you know?” They walked over to the microwave as they spoke, pulling out the tin of cookies and holding it towards Wyatt.

—

“He's just a little guy!” Wyatt repeated in a stupid voice, grinning through it. He accepted the tin from Felix, looking down at the cabinet his friend had been eyeballing a moment ago. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for loose cannon broomsticks,” he assured the other, squatting in front of the cabinet and giving the door a light knock.

“Oh Cosmo!” the lamia sang, rattling the cookies in their tin. “Got a snack for ya, buddy!” The door rattled for a moment, then whipped open. Wyatt couldn’t help but think of a guy kicking the door in after being annoyed to death by his neighbors. But he was ready with the tin, lifting the lid off of it as the strange, hairy little creature stuck its head out to inspect him.

“Wow. You got some fuckin’ ears on ya, huh?” The brownie squinted at him and then looked at the cookies, seeming to debate for a moment before shoving its head in there and grabbing a mouthful. Wyatt laughed, standing up again when the tiny beast retreated back into the cabinets, turning to Felix and giving them a shrug. “We’re good, I guess! Now, ‘bout that dinner…”

Even without the space or tools he was accustomed to, the lamia had no trouble whipping together their meal. And since Felix was here and eager to help, Wyatt asked favors of them here and there, making sure they felt well included in the process, since they seemed like the type that would enjoy that sort of thing. Before long, the kitchen was filled with rich, enticing scents, and Wyatt glanced over at Felix with a grin on his face. “God, y’know, I wish half the people I work with at the restaurant were as helpful as you, mon ami. And enthusiastic! Those sweet potato fries look killer.” He’d instructed Felix on what to do, but largely let them make the dish themself, from cutting the vegetables to seasoning and roasting them with garlic and parmesan.

—

It was hard not to grin at Wyatt’s response as he took the tin and leaned down to the cabinet. Normally, Felix might worry that whoever he was speaking to would find them strange when talking about matters like this one, but… Well, they watched Wyatt turn into a giant alligator a few nights a week and fight people in a ring. They figured he wouldn’t hold it against them too much.

They even laughed a little at the way the lamia called out to the brownie. Felix wasn’t sure how much sentience Cosmo actually had, but they’d been treating him like more of a roommate than a pet, and they liked the idea that Wyatt would do the same. If the brownie was sentient enough to know what was going on around him and just didn’t have the language to communicate it, Felix didn’t think insulting him would be a good move. He was a really good biter.

“Hi, Cosmo,” they greeted as the cabinet slammed open. They grinned as he grabbed the cookies. “Not too many!” They reminded both the brownie and the lamia. Then, to Wyatt, they added, “We’re not really sure if the cookies are good for him. I’ve been saying we should buy vegetables to give him, but every time he hears me say it he bangs on the wall. I don’t think he likes the idea very much.”

They fell into an easy conversation in the kitchen, eager to help Wyatt cook and make themself useful in any way they could. Stirring a pot here, retrieving spices there. Cosmo stayed in his cabinet for most of it, content enough with his cookies to refrain from exploring the kitchen even if Felix knew he’d be out with a broom later sweeping up the mess and making a bigger one in the process. Felix grinned as Wyatt turned to them. “You did all the hard stuff. I just followed instructions.” They were good at that, for better or worse. “It all smells great. I can’t believe you just… know how to make all this.”

—

Wyatt responded with a softer smile, one that somehow felt more private than before, looking away from Felix and back to the task at hand. He was quiet for a moment, contemplative, considering his words carefully before uttering them.

He trusted Felix. He trusted Felix a lot more than most people, and could easily say that the balam was perhaps one of the first actual friends he’d made at work. The rest was just… well, it was just fun, but it lacked any kind of depth. The lamia found himself wondering if he couldn’t use some depth.

“Mama grew up workin’ in restaurants. Couple years after I hatched, she n’ Pa opened their own. Soon as I came waddlin’ outta the bayou lookin’ more like a human, she started takin’ me to work with ‘er and teachin’ me everythin’ she knew. She was—” his breath hitched in his throat, his gaze unfocused as he course-corrected, “she is an amazin’ cook. Owe all this talent to her.” He finished what he was doing and moved the food off of the heat: it was ready. Glancing back at his friend, the lamia couldn’t hide the hopeful sadness that lingered in his normally confident gaze. “Anyway, time for grub! Grab us a couple plates n’ I’ll get us served up.”

—

It felt nice, being let in on something that was clearly so private, so intimate. Wyatt was sharing a piece of himself with Felix, and Felix got the feeling that didn’t happen often. They turned the words over in their mind, tried to imagine Wyatt, decades younger and much smaller, helping his mother in the kitchen of her restaurant. It was a nice image; Felix smiled faintly at the thought of it.

“My mom cooked a lot, too,” they allowed, like a quiet trade. “She used to have this box of recipes from her mom and grandmother. I never met either one of them, but mom said me and my siblings could know them through the food. She used to say food was how you could connect to people, even after they were gone.” It felt like they were connecting to Wyatt now, and his mother. And there was something nice about that, in spite of everything. One day, they knew Wildcat would probably meet Lockjaw in the ring, and it would suck for them both. But for right now, Felix and Wyatt could share a meal.

Ducking by the lamia into the cabinet, Felix retrieved two plates and brought them over. “Pretty excited to try all this,” they admitted with a grin. “I skipped lunch to prepare. I definitely want to be able to eat as much of this as I can. It’s gonna feel like Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner all rolled into one. With… very different foods!”

—

Wyatt had never been the type to try and hide his emotions. When he was angry, you knew. When he was happy, you knew. And when he was sad you’d know, it just so happened that his moments of sadness didn’t often occur in the presence of others, instead hitting him hardest when he was alone. So despite his openness, it was a rare thing to witness. He couldn’t help it now, though, listening as Felix spoke of their family’s relationship with food and finding it so parallel to his own. He was nodding along approvingly, shaking his head in a way that silently said ‘and she was damn right about that.’ His friend got their plates, expressed enthusiasm for the meal to come, and helped Wyatt step over that moment of guilt that’d reared its head and made his chest feel tight.

“Wow, real committed, huh?” the lamia chuckled, serving up the food. “Good! I hope you like it.” They took their portions to the appropriate ‘eating area’, wherever that might’ve been in the case of Felix’s apartment, and tucked in. Happily, Wyatt found the flavors to be robust and precisely as anticipated—no surprises tonight.

He glanced over at Felix at some point, not wanting to fill the silence with the typical small talk, and finding himself still lingering on what’d been shared earlier. “You still, uh… you still see your family sometimes?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t a subject that’d make his friend upset. “Only askin’ cuz I… well I guess I just hope someone is, since I… can’t. Or, won’t.” His brow furrowed—the reasoning behind that was clearly more complex than him not getting along with them. After all, the way he’d spoken of his mother hadn’t indicated any kind of bad blood. And yet… well. He just hoped for some good news from Felix, was all.

—

It was nice, talking about his mother in this context. In the kitchen, over plates of food. Felix thought that she would have liked that, that this is how she would have preferred to be remembered. Grief had a funny way of coloring things, of making even the happiest memories bittersweet, and Felix didn’t want that. They wanted to love their mother more than they missed her, wanted the joy to outweigh the loss. And that was a hard thing to achieve, they knew. It might have even been impossible. But here, in the kitchen, with plates of food and a friend to share the stories and the meal with? It didn’t feel quite as daunting. It didn’t feel quite as impossible.

“I said I wanted to try all of it, and I am a person of my word,” Felix grinned, carrying their plate over to the table and settling down across from Wyatt. The apartment was fairly small, so the distance between the table and the kitchen wasn’t a particularly long one; they could still hear Cosmo shuffling in the cabinets fairly clearly.

Wyatt’s question brought with it a familiar knot that settled in Felix’s stomach, and they shifted a little in their seat. “Uh… not really, no.” Not really as in not at all, as in not in years now. Guilt twisted in their chest. “They, um… Didn’t really approve of some of my choices. I don’t know where they are now. But that’s okay! I’m sure they’re all right, wherever they are.” Doubt was clear in their tone. Not knowing was a terrible thing. So much of their life had been marred by hunters, both supernatural and otherwise, that it was impossible not to wonder if something like that had become of their family. “Why, uh… Why don’t you talk to yours? If that’s okay to ask, I mean. I’m sorry if it’s not.”

—

Alas, the news was not what he’d been after. He’d judged the situation incorrectly, and now Felix seemed uncomfortable, but was pushing off that discomfort to flip the question onto Wyatt, before promptly apologizing. Such was their way, he’d come to learn. Wyatt smiled, giving them a small wave of his hand as if to dismiss the tension that threatened to build.

“No, don’t apologize—sorry I misjudged your situation. Didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” They’d not said as much, but he could tell. He figured that was probably an easy enough read, given Felix’s nerves. “But… same as you, I suppose.” He pushed his fork into a piece of fish, examining it as he rolled his thoughts around in his head, trying to decide how best to say what was on his mind. “I know where they are, for the most part. But I know they’d… be unhappy with me, if I turned up. If I told them what I've been doin’ all these years. Ma especially.” He glanced up at Felix, sharing a knowing glance. Fighting. What they were both doing, for better or worse, for money or for something else. “Started when I was young. My older cousin, Marcel… talked me into it. Wanted to help out the family, help grow the restaurant n’ keep a roof over our heads after he n’ his folks moved in with us. He was never much of a fighter himself, but he knew I was. Knew I’d grown up into kidhood not as a human, n’ what it took for me to be the only livin’ child of Ma n’ Pa Barlow.” He paused to take a bite, letting his thoughts marinate a few moments longer before continuing. “Only he didn’t give my folks near what he claimed from the winnin’s. Kept most of it for himself. I never got told how much we earned, I was just a kid, but eventually I found out what he was up to.” Another pause. “I beat him. Broke him. Might have killed him, I don’t know for sure… couldn’t go home after that. Couldn't disappoint Ma like that. Ran away from home, ran north, n’ never looked back.” He frowned down at his plate. “Send her money every month. She doesn’t know where I am, but I figure she’s gotta know it’s from me. Tryin’ to… make up for everythin’, somehow.”

—

“You didn’t make me feel bad,” Felix reassured quickly, the words tumbling out all at once as if they were afraid of what might happen if they didn’t get them out quickly enough. After all, he’d lived most of his life unable to admit to things that were bothering him without consequence, without punishment. Their father never much liked to see them upset, though not for the nurturing reason most fathers disliked it. Leo had been the same — angry at their ‘emotional outbursts,’ and unafraid to say so. But as Felix stabbed the fork through the food on their plate absently and listened as Wyatt spoke, they were reminded that Wyatt was different. A fighter, sure, but not as angry. Not as unforgiving. They relaxed a little, nodding along with the story.

“I’m sorry he did that,” they said quietly. “Your cousin. It’s not right.” If Wyatt had earned money for his mother, that money should have seen its way to her. It shouldn’t have been lining the pockets of someone who did less work to earn it, shouldn’t have been taken from him. There was little justice in that. “I think… If my dad knew what I was doing, it might be the first time he ever really approved.” Felix smiled faintly, though there was no humor to it. Their father had always wanted them to be tougher than they were, harder. The fact that Felix balked at the notion of taking lives to protect their family had been a never ending source of tension, and their loud disapproval of their father’s methods had been similarly frowned upon. Maybe the Grit Pit was exactly what their dad would have wanted for them, or maybe it wasn’t. The fact that Felix didn’t know for sure hurt a little. “For what it’s worth… I think you’re doing a good job. Sending money back to her, I think it… Goes a long way to make up for the bad.”

—

If he hated fighting, you’d think he would have outgrown it. You’d think, after abandoning his manipulative cousin, he’d have taken it as a chance to do what he wanted. And he did, to an extent—he got jobs in restaurants, he joined a jazz band. He did do things that made him happy, but fighting was one of those things. He relished the adrenaline rush of it, the attention it brought his way, the praise… and so it had always been a part of him. Human fights, monster fights, it didn’t matter what kind… he loved it. In his own, fucked up way, he loved fighting. But… not all at the Grit Pit were so lucky. Not all wished to be there, of those who were capable of wishing for anything at all. Wyatt couldn’t understand it, but he was beginning to think he might be able to at least recognize it in others. In Felix.

It felt awful.

“Thanks,” he answered gently. “Hope someday I’ll have the cojones to face her.” There was a brief silence, during which Wyatt kept a watchful eye on his friend. Finally, he spoke, forgoing any attempt at preamble and instead diving right into it. “Your father… he wanted you to be tougher, huh?” It wasn’t a massive leap of logic to think that someone as sensitive and caring as Felix, with a parent that had not approved of much up to now, might not like fighting. That they might be doing this because of… something else. It always seemed odd, he supposed, that Felix was in the Pit to begin with. But they’d not had the opportunity for very many deep conversations, so Wyatt had just assumed there were things he didn’t know about the balam. A disappointed father that would probably like the idea of cage fights, though, said a lot. “And… you don’t want to fight in the Pit, do you?” His expression was one of concern. Probably should’ve figured that out sooner.

—

It was strange to Felix, the idea that anyone would ever choose anything like the Grit Pit. When they’d first learned the nature of Leo’s job back when they were in love and stupid, they’d assumed he had been forced into it. After all, how could someone want to do something like that of their own free will? That assumption had been the first domino in a chain of events that would go on to ruin Felix, but even now, they found themself looking at Wyatt and repeating that same misconception. Wyatt seemed happy enough, but was it the truth? Could he really do the things he did for the Grit Pit, the things they all did for the Grit Pit, and find peace after? Felix couldn’t. Felix went home every night hating themself a little more, curled up in their bed with nausea tugging stubbornly at their gut and an ache spreading through their chest. Not everyone felt the same. They knew that, on some level. But knowing wasn’t always feeling. In their mind, they still clung to that assumption that Wyatt, like them, was trapped. Maybe they just needed the camaraderie.

“I think you will, for what it’s worth,” Felix offered with a small smile. “You’re one of the toughest people I know, man. I have a hard time thinking anything could scare you for long.” If Wyatt had been in Felix’s shoes with Leo years ago, Felix thought, he would have had a different outcome. He wouldn’t have let himself be fooled the way Felix had. Wyatt was smart. It was a claim Felix never felt they could make about themself. Shifting their weight, Felix nodded. “He… wanted me to be able to protect myself.” It sounded uncertain because they felt uncertain. Their father’s version of protection had never sat right with Felix, never felt like something that was genuinely necessary. Hurting people wasn’t the best way to keep yourself from being hurt. It couldn’t be.

Wyatt’s next question had the balam avoiding eye contact even more than they usually did, looking down at their hands as if the lines on their palms might contain the secrets of the universe. “No,” they admitted quietly. “No, I really don’t. But… It is what it is, right? I — I signed a contract. There’s no way out of that.”

—

It was interesting… the stark differences in the ways they’d been raised, and yet they both ended up in the same spot. Wyatt’s folks had never worried about his ability to protect himself. He’d eaten his siblings, after all. Survived in the bayou largely on his own for the first four years of his life… he knew how to fend for himself. His mother always told him he was her little survivor, laughing at the way his hands and face were covered in powdered sugar after helping dress the beignets. “My tough little man, with a soft, gooey center,” she’d said, always comparing him to sweet desserts. It had filled him with a sense of invincibility, and maybe that’s why he’d taken to fighting in the first place. No one could hurt him, or they already would have. If he was vulnerable, he would have been chomped on by a common gator when he was just a babe. But he’d always fought them off, despite them being three times his size. He always won. Always.

It pained him to know that Felix didn’t feel the same, even though he logically knew that couldn’t be true of everyone in the Pit. Still, though… “It’s just a piece of paper,” he said naively. He didn’t know about fae binds in the slightest. “I mean, there’s gotta be a way out of it, if that’s what you want.” He searched the other’s expression for some kind of clue as to how they’d gotten themself wrapped up in such a thing in the first place, but of course there wasn’t much to be gleaned from the way Felix hung their head and stared at their hands. Something, but not much. They didn’t want to be there, they would leave if they could. So someone else had put them there. Someone… who still had authority over them, in one way or another. “Who… who got you to sign, mon ami? Maybe I can talk to them.” That sense of protectiveness, that short fuse that usually only ignited when violence was happening, sparked to life. “You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.” It was less a remark on the reality of things and more an assertion that he’d make it the reality, even if he had to fight tooth and nail for it. That’s what he was good at, after all. “If they wanna give you trouble ‘bout it, maybe I can—maybe there’s somethin’ I can do, somethin’ I can give, to convince ‘em.”

—

Felix had always been the softest of the Mendoza children, even before their mother’s death had hardened the others beyond reason. As a kid, they’d cried at the smallest things. Their mother used to wrap them up in her arms, press kisses into their hair until sobs turned to sniffles. She called him brave even when he didn’t feel it, told them that someone couldn’t be both brave and fearless. In order to be brave, you had to be afraid first. And Felix was afraid, even back then. Afraid of the spirit in his chest, of the world outside of it. They were afraid long before they were given something to fear.

Naturally, their father had less patience for it after their mother’s death. To him, Felix’s fear felt like a slight, like a sign that he’d failed in his self-imposed mission to ensure his children’s safety. After all, wasn’t Felix protected? Weren’t they safe by their father’s side? Maybe it was that fear that had pushed their father to try, with everything he had, to make Felix stronger. To make them be the one to bury the bodies of the trespassers he killed, to have them sit with the corpses. Maybe it was some ill-advised attempt to show Felix that he was safe, that nothing would hurt them because their father would hurt it first. It had only ever fed into the fear, of course, only ever made it stronger.

And now, they were here. In a kitchen that was safe and a life that wasn’t. Trapped just as surely as they had been in that cabin, but without the locks on the door. Their chest ached a little as Wyatt spoke, the revelation that he didn’t know hitting them like a ton of fucking bricks. “It’s a lot more than that,” they said quietly. They’d spent years testing the limits of their contract, knew where every boundary lay. They could talk to another fighter about it a lot easier than they could to someone on the outside. Ducking their head, Felix shrugged. “Leo,” they said quietly. “He’s — He was my…” He trailed off, swallowing. “It doesn’t matter. Talking to him won’t do anything but land you in trouble, Wyatt, I can promise you that.” It wasn’t just about the contract for Leo. On some level, Felix knew that. They were where they were because Leo liked the control, because he enjoyed it. “It is what it is. There’s not — There’s nothing you can do. Or anyone else.” Hopelessness was a hard thing to avoid, in situations like this one. Felix didn’t know how to dispel it.

—

“Now that I don’t believe,” Wyatt countered with a shake of his head. “There’s always loopholes. Always secret ways in n’ outta things. C’mon. You’ve tried, sure, but you’re deep in it. Lemme have a nose around… everyone’s got a price. Everyone.” And he’d be willing to pay that price, whatever it was, to get his friend out. Maybe he could find a replacement for Wildcat, maybe that would be enough? There was that balam that’d helped him out at the lake… she’d be a good replacement. And he owed her a drink, so he’d probably be hearing from her sooner rather than later. Yeah… that could work. “Hell, I already got an idea.” He smiled confidently, leaning back in his chair. “And don’t you worry ‘bout me, I’ve never lost a battle n’ I’m not about to start now,” he assured them. “Leo n’ I are just gonna have a friendly chat, is all. No problems! I’m very good at bein’ convincin’.” He gave Felix a wink as if to seal the deal, wanting his friend to trust that he could get them out of this situation. He felt he could, and god, he needed to do something good for someone before his karma fell out of balance. It would be fine! It would for sure, absolutely, positively be fine.

#. thread ;#. with ; felix mendoza #. what's cookin ;

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non-sequitur-ocs · 2 years ago

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i have very specific brain rot what is your characters playing amoug us like? how good or bad are they? what are their tactics if any? who gets killed at the beginning of each round to the point its a bit

Milo I would have not guessed this ask in a million years.

Risa didn't want to play, but she plays it because everyone else is, hates being an imposter and if she is solo imposter will throw the match. Loves being dead because then its just Task Simulator 2000 and that's more her vibe

Mao just likes the cool cosmetics and occasionally will put together the clues and nail the imposter but overall is just vibing, decent at doing tasks though.

Reiki is really really annoying as a crewmate because he does his best to make sure to keep everyone together which makes getting kills ANNOYING but this can make it a bit obvious when he's imposter if he doesn't do that which makes him lean on sabotages

Tokiho likes looking for bugs and trying to clip out of the maps, but when she's not doing that she's zipping around quickly doing tasks, master of cardswipe. Terrifying as imposter because she knows everything about the maps and how to exploit it.

Umeshi is kinda bad at the game, but he's observant and good at remembering small details, he might not get you quickly but if you're sloppy with your story he'll start to notice the changes over a round or two. Clings to people and hates being alone.

Vide is all sabotages all the time and will keep the light out as much as often. Remember that one round I played where I turned lights out immediately and got a kill then got away with it because it was so immediate and no one had an alibi because everyone was there? That's Vide. Decent at tasks but has a bad habit of going off alone and getting killed. SUPER good at the hide and seek game mode though.

Suisuke plants himself on cams or the equivalent on the map and just keeps an eye on things, only starts doing tasks towards the end game.

Yuhou never does tasks and constantly accuses random people on the whim. Will throw her imposter buddy under the bus for no reason, do not play with Yuhou.

Ayuto logs onto a server and says "Who wants to marry me?" then gets super dramatic when his 'husband' dies.

Takara is TERRIFYING because she sounds exactly the same as crewmate as she is as imposter and is GOOD at blending in, having an acting talent makes you TERRIFYINGLY GOOD at this game.

Yuuzou is hacking, fuck him

Jun is also on cameras with Suisuke but often gets voted off because people find him suspicious and he's really bad at defending himself

Chiyoko likes to just follow people around and chase them because its funny, rarely actually the imposter though.

Etsuko rage quitted after failing cardswipe like twenty times. Besides that she's good at leading conversations.

Hiroko complains that they arent using mods but also likes looking for cool easter eggs on the maps.

Utamaru find a body and then spends the entire section of talking just going "um, uh" and going over single thing they did so no one else gets a word in and they all vote him out on principle

#utamaru shima #hiroko ono #Etsuko Ōshiro #chiyoko amano #jun ueda #yuuzou nō #Takara Mutō #ayuto shirai #yuhou baba #suisuke uchida #vide #umeshi kaneko #tokiho taketa #reiki machida #risa imai #mao katoh

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softboynick · 3 years ago

Text

$12 bottles

~940w, fluff, two boys in falling in love

steve and tony have their first date.

happy valentine’s day, my loves! <3 | fic inspired by “$12 bottles” by sir, please.

—

On the night of their very first date, Steve picks him up with the old beat-up pick up he’s been spending all summer fixing up with his dad.

He almost thinks he’s got the wrong address when the GPS sends him down a gravel road and towards a wrought-iron gate. With a gate like this, he almost suspects there’ll be someone checking his car for any illegal substances, but no one comes, and all he has to do is press a button on the intercom.

He clears his throat, afraid his voice will crack. “Uh, hello. I’m here for Tony?”

A smooth, British voice answers, “Yes, Mr. Rogers. We’ve been expecting you.” And that doesn’t sound ominous at all.

The gate opens, and he pulls his truck through. The tree-lined road eventually opens up to a large roundabout with a fountain smack dab in the middle. He squints and notices that it has a replica of the Venus de Milo sitting amid the shooting water.

He parks his truck, and he has a moment of panic, before he has to talk himself down.

Just about everyone in this town knows how loaded the Stark family is, but he wasn’t prepared to see the opulence of their home in real life.

It’s almost comical the way he fidgets in the middle of the Stark’s extravagant foyer, covered floor to ceiling in white, sparkling marble, under the cool stare of the family’s butler. He tries not to move an inch, scared that he’ll scuff the floor with his dirty, beat-up converse. Everything in here is immaculate, and Steve is hyper aware that he doesn’t fit in. He tries—and fails—to make small talk.

“Um, you’re Jarvis, right?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

And that’s that.

He doesn’t relax until he sees Tony coming down the stairs, and all his worries seem to flush right out of his system the moment he sees the look of excitement on Tony’s face.

“Hi,” Steve says dumbly.

Tony’s eyes crinkle with delight as he smiles. “Hi,” he says in reply.

Before he knows it, Tony is taking Steve’s hand and pulling him towards the front door. “Bye, Jarvis! Don’t wait up!”

They step out of the door, and Steve is suddenly self-conscious about the sight of his truck, looking like a dirty smudge in the front garden. But it doesn’t look like Tony seems to mind, so he tries not to bring it up as he opens the passenger side door for him.

“What a true gentleman,” Tony gushes, climbing in.

Steve quickly circles around the front to get into the driver’s side, and that moment of panic returns when it has to take him about three times to get the truck moving. “Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Tony’s still smiling, so he doesn’t worry about it.

Steve drives them out to the lookout point where almost everyone brings their first dates. Thankfully, no one else is there to disturb them, and he parks the car with the bed of the truck facing the city below.

His ma had helped him out with all the cooking and set up, because Steve, for the life of him, had been too nervous to do anything but worry. But she’d assure him that Tony was going to fall head over heels for him, because the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. That’s how I got your father, she’d say with a wink.

Popping the cover off the bed of the truck, Steve reveals a bed of pillows and blankets tucked away for them to get comfortable. A cooler filled with food sits next to the makeshift bed along with a lantern that he turns on to give Tony the full view of the set up.

“Whoa.. You did all of this for me?” Tony asks in awe.

Steve nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I mean. It is our first date. I just wanted to make it special.”

Tony beams at him and demands to be helped up. He settles into the pillows and grabs a blanket to cover himself with. “C’mon, you big lug. Get in here.”

Steve follows him in and sits himself right next to Tony, dragging the cooler closer to start serving up the home cooked meal his ma stored away in Tupperware. He took a closer look into the cooler and saw dessert—her famous apple pie—and a bottle of wine.

They eat away the night with the twinkling lights of the city below. They save dessert for last and cuddle up together under the blankets as they take in the view and munch up Sarah Rogers’ pie between sips of cheap wine.

“I know this ain’t no fancy dinner, but—“

Tony cuts him off with a sigh. “Steve. You really need to stop being so hard on yourself.”

“But—“

“Look, you and I both know that money isn’t an issue for me and my family. It’s not a secret, and I don’t want it to be. But I’d take views and a home cooked meal over fancy dinners any day. Especially if it’s with you. And before you say anything, I didn’t agree to go on this date with you because I pity you. I’d hate for you to think that. I really like you, Steve. And I want this to work.”

Steve stares at Tony, at the boy who has everything, and still, he wants him. “I really like you, too,” he whispers.

Tony smiles, and he looks just as beautiful as the stars in the sky and the ones flickering in the city. Perhaps, even more. “Good.”

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #stevetony fic #stony fic #wrote this instead of my WIP #for the lovers <3 #it’s 3am and I banged this out in about half an hour #i am INSANE #my writing

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mysteriesofmilo · 2 years ago

Text

Everyone knows no one ever keeps their New Year's Resolution!

Well, almost no one.

You know how, in Snow Way Out, Zack decided that he would be more like Milo -- in that he would be more confident about facing the chaos that surrounds Milo and always try to put a positive spin on it?

That was it. That was his resolution.

And though this episode takes place immediately after Christmas break, Zack actually kept his resolution for the entire season.

In Pace Makes Waste, Zack does everything in his power to announce the "warm-up lap" and even encourages Melissa to help him. This all despite Bradley's best efforts to pin the blame for the rocket attaching to the pace car on the two of them.

By The Ticking Clock, Zack has become confident enough around Milo to make a game out of walking past parking meters and seeing what happens.

He does struggle a bit in Cast Party with his injury discouraging him from doing more interpretive dance, but by the end of the episode Zack is feeling a lot more confident about going into dangerous situations despite the risk.

At the WiBAs (Ride Along Little Doggie), Zack is scheduled to do an interpretive dance with Lydia, but recognizes that she is in no condition to perform and tries to get her to quit. This is another part of his development because, while facing down danger is great, it's also important to know how far is too far.

(And while writing this post, I came to the conclusion that those two episodes are in the wrong order in TV listings. This is because Zack said in Cast Party that he was "trying something new" with interpretive dance, but at the WiBAs he had been practicing with Lydia for 3 weeks. So he actually did take Melissa's advice and got back on the interpretive dance train.)

In The Mid-Afternoon Snack Club, Zack admits to feeling overshadowed by Milo -- "like a bystander in my own life," as he puts it. So Milo decides to give him control when the mice get out and turn on the Bunsen burners, and he manages it quite effectively by first using tongs to screw the wheel back on the sprinkler system, and then sucking up the mice into a hose so he could put them back in their cage.

This all comes to a head in Sphere and Loathing in Outer Space, when we get this exchange:

Melissa: How we doin'?

Zack: Um, I'm OK!

Melissa: Really? Cause I'm a little freaked out. I mean, we just crash landed a UFO on an alien planet.

Zack: Exactly! And that's why I'm OK! Look, we've faced time traveling nut monsters, more wayward construction equipment than I can count, and now we're halfway across the galaxy on an alien world trying to find our friend! Dude, I think I'm done being afraid.

Basically, Zack spent season 2 fulfilling his New Year's resolution to be more like Milo.

(It's not just Zack either. Milo's resourcefulness and positive attitude towards the chaos rub off on Amanda in episodes like Cake 'Splosion! and Managing Murphy's Law, and on the Octalians in Sphere and Loathing in Outer Space. Whereas season 1 featured Milo pretty much being the only one cool, calm and collected enough to face the danger head on, the other characters start to really follow his example in season 2.)

#i just love this arc #zack underwood #milo murphy's law #mml #Milo Murphy

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rabbits-of-habit · 3 years ago

Note

Aye can either one of the mods tell me/write some cute fluff HCs for the EMH fellas and the TT boys w an s/o thats a single mom and they find their kid lost and they help their kid back to their s/o? (I’m sorry I’m a sucker for this trope idk what it’s called but I luv it).

Some of these are based on my brother and me when we were kids. We always had a bad habit of running off and making friends with strangers. -Mod Dirk

Noah:

This poor awkward man was just waiting in the park for his cousin.

Your kid went up to him and immediately started asking questions.

"You're really tall. How tall are you? Do you like the stars? My mom takes me outside to look at the stars sometimes."

He answers their questions to the best of his abilities, noting how so far, there was no parent in sight.

"I will answer any more questions you have as long as you come with me to help find your mom okay?"

Of course, they nod, excited to have someone to talk to.

The both of them make it to the playground, where Noah is looking for the most frazzled-looking mom.

Your kid sees you before he does and they run in your direction.

Noah worried that they might be running off to talk to another stranger follows.

You look so relieved when they run up to you. "I made a new friend look." They point at Noah who looks just as frazzled as you do, to be honest.

You apologize to Noah so many times you lose count.

Firebrand:

I dont know why, but I feel like he has a soft spot for kids tbh.

He would never admit it of course.

So when he sees your kid getting a little too close to the boardwalk he steps in.

He teleports right in front of them and steers them away from the boardwalk.

But he doesn't take into consideration the fact that teleporting in front of your kid will have consequences.

Thankfully they aren't scared when he teleports in front of them.

Quite the opposite actually.

They look at him with stars in their eyes.

"Whoa! Are you a superhero? I have superhero posters in my room!"

"I...Yea. A superhero." Oh God that's probably a boost to his ego.

"You gotta come meet my mom. Come on!"

This man is dragged by your kid halfway across the park and to you.

You look visibly confused as to why they have a grown man.

"Look mom a real life super hero! He teleported and everything!"

Firebrand gives a nervous wave to you.

You sigh and give him the best apology you can muster through the held back laughter your experiencing.

Milo:

He was just trying to enjoy one normal day at the mall.

No monsters or demons or anything like that.

Hes hanging out with Kevin and Noah when he sees your kid crying alone. Asking people for help.

It makes him a bit mad that no one's stopping to make sure they are okay.

So he tells Noah and Kevin to wait for him while he goes to make sure they are okay.

He keeps a slight distance as he crouches down to eye level to speak to them.

"Are you okay? Do you need help?"

They are immediately nodding and begging for help finding you.

They had wandered off when they saw a toy store and when they turned back you were gone.

He reaches out his hand and they take it tightly.

He weaves them through people until he makes it to a help desk where they call for you.

You look so grateful for Milo as your kid bounds into your arms.

Kevin:

He was staying late in one of his college classrooms to work on a project.

He hears the door open and feels a bit sketched out when he doesn't see a normal adult come through the door.

It's like the door opened on its own.

Until your kid comes up to him and sits in an empty chair next to him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Whatcha workin on?"

"Um...Science project."

"You should do it about dinosaurs. I like those. My moms in the room next door learning about books."

"Dinosaurs are pretty cool. I'll have to do that next time. How about we take you to your mom?"

They seemed annoyed that they would have to go back to the boring English class. But they nod and follow anyways.

Kevin sneaks into the room and follows them to you.

You looked like you were having an inward panic attack until Kevin brings them to you. You thank him several times.

He changes his science project to one about dinosaurs after that.

The Observer:

Children scare him a bit.

So when yours ends up on the boardwalk, he looks absolutely terrified.

Its honestly a taste of his own medicine.

He uses his tentacles to pick them up and lift them upside down and away from him.

They find it fun, laughing and smiling the entire time.

He doesn't know why. But he finds that amusing.

He starts swinging them a bit. When they laugh it makes him laugh.

"You're a funny little thing aren't you?"

He starts to enjoy having this small child around.

Until of course, he hears you calling for them at the end of the boardwalk.

He decides that for once, he will do the right thing.

He sets them down gently, his tentacles go back into his back, and he leads them off of the boardwalk.

You've never looked so relieved to see your kid when The Observer brings them to you.

Evan:

He was filming with Jeff and Vince for their YouTube channel.

He was going down the cookie and chips aisle when a small child zooms past him.

They are grabbing several snacks in their wake and he finds it hiliarous.

They are gone seconds later but for some reason, they come back.

His laughter drew the kid back to him.

He looks confused when they come back and stop dead set in front of him.

They look at Evan up and down then point to his shirt.

"My mom listens to that band."

"Thats so cool, do you know where she is by chance?"

They shake their head no.

They then admit they ran off when you weren't looking so they could grab snacks and sneak them into the cart.

He is almost about to lose it laughing.

He hears frantic steps behind him, then a disappointed yet not surprised sigh.

You apologize to Evan who tells you it's probably one of the more intresting things that's happened to him today.

Hes a good sport honestly.

Habit:

The ultimate bad influence on children.

Please for the love of God never leave your children near him.

You were camping with your kid when they decided to wander off.

They wanted to find shiny rocks.

Instead they bumped into Habit, who snarled at them.

When he realized it was a child he did feel a little bit bad or course.

He helped them up and dusted them off.

"The fuck is a child doing out here?"

"My mom and I are camping." They notice the array of weapons next to him.

"Those are really big."

The look of pride on Habits face...Immeasurable.

He shows them all of his weapons and how they cut before taking them back to you.

"You'll have to come back and I'll teach you to use em." Your kid is excited.

When they make it back to you with Habit they've learned 3 curse words and how to get away with arson.

Vince:

The fourth of July was one of the first breaks he's had in a long time.

Life's stressful when you are being chased by a tall faceless man in a suit.

Him, Jeff, and Evan had spent most of the day shooting off fireworks.

They are now watching Vince's neighbors shoot off their own fireworks.

That's when he sees a small child no older than 7 wandering alone with tears brimming their eyes.

Vince looks so worried as he approaches your kid gently as to not scare them off.

"Hey. What's going on? Are you alright?"

"The fireworks are scary and I lost my big cousin...I wanna go home."

This sweet fucking man goes door to door trying to find you.

When he does your kid flings themselves into your arms.

You thank Vince for bringing them home and make sure their cousin gets a stern talking to when they come home without your kid.

Jeff:

He was at a parent teacher conference for his brother.

The elementary school is very close to the high-school.

Like across the street from each other.

Hes talking to a teacher about his brother's grade and recent odd behavior when he looks out of a classroom window.

He sees your kid peeking into the classroom.

"Um..Are they yours?"

The teacher looks and sighs.

They let him know that a lot of the elementary schoolers come across the street and peek into classrooms.

He and the teacher bring your kid inside and call the elementary school.

You are over in less than 3 mins spilling apology after apology to the both of them.

#mod dirk answers #tw tribetwelve #noah maxwell #milo asher #kevin haas #the observer tribetwelve #firebrand tribetwelve #emh #emh habit #emh jeff #emh evan

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bedbellyandbeyond · 4 years ago

Photo

Dinner at the Demers

(Story Post)

“Here we are,” Fay said pulling up the driveway. He parked and smiled to Theo. “Let me get your door.” “I got it,” Theo chuckled, opening his door and getting out himself. As his case worker, Fay had been helping Theo a lot with talking out his feelings around his pregnancy. The merman was more than friendly and Theo always felt comfortable around him, even when it came to very personal things like body dysmorphia or feelings of loneliness. Theo had found that he and Fay had a few things in common, like the fact that they'd both left home to pursue their careers. After just a few sessions with him, Theo liked to consider the merman his friend and was very happy to be invited over to his place for dinner. “Thanks for having me,” Theo said as he followed Fay to the front door. “I don't get out much, especially now.” “It's no problem,” Fay said. “Dari was glad to hear you were coming. He has a habit of taking group members in under his wing. Camilo's like a son to him now.”

“I'm pretty sure I'm older than Dari…” Theo said. “You're the same age actually,” Fay stated. Theo blinked. “He's thirty?!” “Looks can be deceiving,” Fay said. “He looks like he's twenty at most,” Theo stated. “Is he aging backwards?” “It's a little complicated but it isn't my place to explain,” Fay said. “Let's just say his body needs time to catch up.” “Okay, but, like…” Theo rubbed his neck. “I'm gonna have a hard time not thinking about that.” “If you get him in the right mood, Dari will tell you whatever,” Fay assured. “Anyway, we eat a lot of fish in this household, but I understand someone in your condition might prefer something safer so we also have chicken. What do you prefer?” “Oh, fish is fine,” Theo said. “Dr. Aias said there really isn't any diet restrictions for me, so long as I eat healthy for myself. I can smoke and drink if I want. The baby's not going anywhere. I don’t smoke. Haven’t really touched alcohol either… Still feels kinda wrong.” “Fair enough,” Fay unlocked the door and let them inside. “Oh, don't let the cat out.” “Huh?” Theo looked down to try and see if any animals were at his feet but he then realised he couldn't see his feet at all and a second later, a cat dashed out from under him and onto the porch. “Ah, sorry Theo, I wasn't thinking,” Fay said. He managed to catch the feline and pick her up. “This is Slippers. She's very curious and friendly.” Theo offered a hand to sniff and then pet the cat on the head. “She's very cute.” “I got her as a gift for Dari a while back,” Fay said. “He's very protective of her so even though we don't get much traffic out here, she's best as an indoor cat.” “Got it.” “Come meet the kids,” Fay said. “Twins should be down for a nap right now, but otherwise, trouble should be about.” It didn't take long until the first few heads popped out to see them. “Papa!” one child yelled, flinging themselves around Fay's waist. Another just stood there and pointed at Theo. “Baby belly!” Theo flushed red. “Uh, yeah...” “Otter, pointing is rude,” Fay said, pushing his son's hand down. “Apologise to my friend Theo.” “Sorry, my friend Theo,” Otter said, still just staring up at the man. “It's fine,” Theo assured. “Siv, mon poussain,” Fay said to the other boy, sliding a hand between his side and his son to pry him off. “Papa can't move if you're hugging so tight.” “I missed you,” Siv whined. “I missed you too,” Fay said, petting his son's head. “Where's Daddy?” “Green room,” Siv said, pointing to the back of the house. “Greenhouse. And your sisters?” “Um... Ari and Kat with Milo and Zoe with Daddy and the babies sleep.” “And do we remember the babies names?” Fay asked. “Um...” “I do!” Otter said quickly. “I know you do,” Fay said patting Otter's head. “I want Siv to remember. They're a little harder.” “Oh.” Siv racked his brain. “Uh, Anna and...” He looked at Otter who was signing to him. “Isa...belle?” “Annabelle and Isabelle, that's right,” Fay approved. “Next time, no cheating. Get your big brother and let's meet in the greenhouse, okay?” Siv looked at Otter and then grabbed his arm. “Specifics... Both of you get your eldest brother, understood?” Fay rephrased. “Yeah!” Otter said, letting go of his father and taking Siv's arm to go get Milo with him. Fay took Theo outside to the back of the house. Theo was immediately impressed by the spacious yard, with a pool as well as a relatively large greenhouse. Inside, there were rows and rows of vegetables and flowers growing. Dari was found between the leaves, dwarfed by his own six-foot-tall tomato plants. Zoe was toddling about at his feet and grabbing any ripe tomatoes she could get her little hands on. Dari looked upset when he heard Fay and Theo entering. “Zoe, tomatoes in the basket, bunny,” he instructed as he pulled off his gardening gloves. Zoe completely ignored him and just kept grabbing tomatoes, ripe or not and trying to put them in her mouth. “My love,” Fay said, stepping up to his husband and wrapping his arms around him. Dari took his sun hat off and wacked Fay over the arm with it. “You should've reminded me Theo was coming over! I would've started dinner early.” “I told you this morning. What more reminders do you need?” Fay asked. “And that's not a jab, I want you to know.” “...Maybe, an hour before you leave work,” Dari said. “It takes two hours to make dinner?” Fay asked. “It can!” Dari said. “It allows me time to prepare. Now a guest will have to wait with us.” Fay kissed his forehead. “I'll make dinner. You can do your thing. Hang out with Theo.” “Hi, Theo,” Dari finally said, acknowledging his guest. “I'm sorry about this.” “You really have nothing to apologise for,” Theo said. “I don't mind waiting to eat. I had a big lunch.” “Come here,” Dari waved Theo over. Theo obeyed, going over to Dari. “Your garden is amazing. I feel like you never have to get groceries.” “That’s the idea,” Dari said, nodding. He hovered a hand over Theo's stomach. “Can I touch?” “Sure. You're not the first.” Dari placed his hand on the protrusion and rubbed softly. “Aliens, right?” “That's right. Though, they’re not big enough to feel or anything…” “I'll go start dinner,” Fay said, leaving them be. “Were you abducted?” Dari asked. Theo shook his head. “No. Well, not really. Not in the traditional sense. I was...visited in my dreams.” “That's different...” Dari pondered. “Different?” Dari took his hand back and patted his own chest. “I was abducted. I had children for the aliens, each ripped from me the moment they were born. Or even before.” Theo frowned. “I'm so sorry... That's terrible.” Dari shrugged. “I don't really...feel anything from it anymore. It's like a part of my life I won't get back so why should I lend it any feelings?” “I mean, I guess that's good...” Theo considered. Dari suddenly lifted his own shirt, revealing his slightly distended and scarred stomach. “You see this ‘X’ scar? They implanted an artificial womb inside me and a ‘gamete converter’, which basically steals my DNA and turns it into egg cells... In a way, I stole it from them... I was able to make my children with it, so...it's like...not all bad.” “...Why are you telling me all this?” Theo asked. Dari pulled his shirt back down. “I don't do well in groups but when I heard your situation, I knew I had something in common and I feel like everyone needs people they can relate to for support. I want you to know that I'm here and, at least on the non-consensual alien pregnancy level, I understand more than most people will ever understand.” Theo smiled a bit. “Oh. Thank you. I guess you're right.” “If there's ever anything I can help you with, don't hesitate to contact me,” Dari said. “And don't for a second think you have to forgive them for doing this to you. I haven't.” Theo nodded slowly. “...Um, so Fay mentioned you and I are the same age?” Dari tilted his head. “Are you thirty?” Theo nodded. “You just... You look so young.” Dari put his hands on his hips. “Why, cause I'm short?” “No, well, um...” Dari looked away and started meddling with some cucumber. “I was abducted when I was fifteen. This thing inside me synthesised a chemical similar to estrogen so I didn't really have a chance to finish puberty until I got back... I'm on hormone therapy now. I was supposed to be, ever since I got back, but I couldn't really do it while pregnant five times, could I?” “Five times?” Theo asked. “I thought you have eight kids.” “Twins exist, Theo,” Dari said. “Fay carried Otter and Milo was born well before I got back to Earth.” “But, wouldn’t that—” Theo was cut off when a big red beast of a person came bounding outside carrying two little girls with him and with Siv and Otter at his heels. They came inside and the small children immediately dispersed to go look at the plants and pick anything that looked ripe enough to eat off the stem. The giant red man went directly to the adults and loomed over them, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. Theo was shocked beyond belief and froze up immediately. “Milo, my biggest boy!” Dari cooed wrapping his arms around his son's waist. He was two or three heads shorter than Milo and could barely see above his chest. “Milo, this is Theo. He's a friend.” Milo put the girls down and waved to Theo, before signing to his father. “Milo says he really likes your hair,” Dari said. “I think it's because it's a colour he can actually see well. He’s a bit colour blind.” “Oh, um. Tell him thanks for me?” Theo requested. “Tell him yourself. He can hear you, he just can't speak like us,” Dari explained, happily patting Milo's chest. “He's my big growly boy...” “Oh! Okay, thanks Milo,” Theo said, running a hand through his own hair. “I need to dye it again soon though.” Milo nodded, smiling and signed again. “He thinks you look cool with the roots,” Dari said. “It’s almost like Fay and Ari’s hair. You’re like an honorary merperson.” Theo smiled. “Thanks, but I think Fay pulls off two colours much better than I do. It’s not even blended.” Milo signed again to Dari but Dari didn’t translate and just signed back. Milo looked a little upset and then signed again. “Milo wants to compliment you on your pregnancy,” Dari said. “I told him it might not be appropriate but he insisted.” “That's cool. Thanks, Milo,” Theo said, trying to stay calm in front of the seven-foot-tall red man. “How um, how old is he?” “Twelve or thirteen, we think,” Dari said. “Hard to say.” “You don't know?” Theo asked. “Yeah, well... They weren't really handing out Earth calendars aboard the sex trafficking space ship, so I really don't know when he was born,” Dari said. “We use the day that he came home to us as his birthday.” “That's really... That's some crazy stuff that happened to you, Dari,” Theo said. “I'm so sorry.” “Don't be. It was years ago.” “But really, you talk about it so casually. You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.” Dari patted Theo’s shoulder. “It happened. It was terrible. It's left me physically, mentally and emotionally scarred for life. But that's all it is. Scars. I can't do much about it. All you can really try to do with scars is put lotion on them or tattoo over them. I'm tired of doing that, so I just wear them. The nightmares come less and less. My physical scars don't hurt anymore. When I tell my story, I can detach myself from it. I don't let it bother me.” He patted Theo's cheek. “Oh, but if it bothers you, I won't talk about it.” “Oh, no, no. I don't mind,” Theo said. “Thank you for opening up.” Dari sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Of course, you don't have to share either if you don't want to. But I am curious... You weren't abducted, but you also don't strike me as the type of guy who hangs around alien bars. No, wait. You mentioned dreams? How does that work?” “It's kind of embarrassing...” Theo said. Dari lifted his own shirt and patted his stomach. “Looking four months pregnant for the rest of your life is embarrassing.” Theo proceeded to tell Dari everything, how the celestial apparently impregnated him in his dreams and how on the first day, he grew so rapidly. Dari listened intently and when he was done, offered up his sympathy and advice. Theo mentioned Henderson, but only as a friend helping him out. He didn't mention that they'd slept together because he still didn't know what it meant yet. They chatted a little more for a while until it was dinner time and they headed on inside. Theo enjoyed his time at the Demers house. The food was good and there was nothing but energy in the dining room as they ate. Siv took a liking to Theo in particular and spent most of the meal telling him about his favourite frog he found the other day. Fay later expressed to his guest how delighted he was to see Siv opening up so easily with Theo since he was apparently the shiest child. This made Theo feel quite a bit better about having to listen to ‘hop hop hop’ and ‘ribbitty ribbit’ over and over. At the end of the night, Fay drove him home. He welcomed Theo to their house any time and Fay would be happy to drive. Theo thanked him for hosting him and then got himself ready for bed. He was exhausted from just being around so many children at one time and was very glad that he would not be dealing with anything like that for himself any time soon.

#lore #Theo #Dari #Fay #Milo #Siv #Otter #Zoe #mpreg #tpreg #trans preg #mpreg belly

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number-one-micoverse-fan · 4 years ago

Text

Everybody Knows That Dom Has Depression Except For Dom

It’s what it says on the tin, fellas.

----------

“And I have a couple of pre-made meals for you too!” Miranda heaves a giant refrigerated bag onto the table, beaming at Dom as she rips open the velcro and starts pulling out stacks of tupperware containers.

“Pre-made…?” Dom ventures, watching with growing wonderment as the stack of containers continues to grow. That bag must be bigger on the inside.

“Yeah, meals that are already cooked up and ready to go,” Miranda explains, finally setting the bag aside and walking around to open the fridge. There’s plenty of room inside for the castle of tupperware, “So you can just pull one out, stick it in the microwave, and you’re all set! It’ll be great for those days when you’re too tired or worked too late to make something.”

Dom blinks, considers, makes a soft noise of agreement. He absently hands containers to Miranda as she fills his refrigerator. He’s trying to figure out why someone would spend this much time on him. The only conclusion he manages to come to is that he definitely needs to find a way to pay Miranda back for her generosity.

He doesn’t deserve this kind of attention.

*******

“I—I’m so sorry about this!” Dom is scurrying around the house in the pre-dawn gloom, lit only by the sodium yellow burn of the streetlights through the window and the dim light over the kitchen sink. He’s flustered and tired, his tie undone around his neck, his shirt half tucked in, and his hair a mess.

“It’s fine,” Jake is hovering in the doorway to Dom’s kitchen, his hands wrapped around a thermos of of coffee. His expression is sympathetic, if a little strained, “Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”

“I know, I know,” Dom says in a stag whisper, struggling to do up his tie and tuck in his shirt at the same time, harried and fretting and continuously glancing towards the stairs to the second floor of the house, “B-but it’s just—it’s so early and—“

“I was already up anyway.”

“—you have Milo—“

“Dan’s still at the house for him.”

“—this meeting was so last minute—“

“Employers can be jerks.”

“—but Cody—“

“Dom.”

“—I didn’t want him to wake up alone—“

“Dom!” Jake snatches at Dominic’s shoulder, stopping the other man in his tracks. Dom’s eyes are wide and worried, heavy with exhaustion and stress. Jake gives his best comforting smile, changing his grip to a gentle pat,

“It’s okay. Honestly. I’m happy to help. You’re a—a friend. And you’d do the same for Milo, yeah?”

Dom swallows, takes a deep breath and smooths the front of his shirt down, “Yeah. Of course. Thanks Jake.”

“Anytime.”

*********

Cody flops onto the couch next to his dad and offers him a bowl of popcorn.

Dom takes it hesitantly, his brow furrowed, “I thought you were going to spend time with Milo…”

“He needs to do homework,” Cody says, settling into his spot. The light from the television reflects off his glasses, “And I wanna hang out with my cool dad!” He beams up at his dad, honest happiness on his face, “What’re we watchin’?”

“O-oh, um…” The hollowed out cavern in Dom’s chest is suddenly flooding with warmth and it makes a wobbly smile spread slowly across his face, “I…I dunno, actually, I just…had the TV on. Was there something you wanted to watch?”

“Mmmm, not really. Maybe we should channel surf until we find something good!”

“Okay…”

Dom flips through some channels rather absently, asking Cody about his day, about homework, about the MiCo channel. Cody happily rambles at him about everything and Dom listens, questions, smiles until his smile can’t get any bigger. He’s not really paying attention to the television, watching Cody talk and gesture animatedly about his latest attempt at catching proof of ghosts. The teen is lit up, literally and figuratively, glowing in the blue-white of the screen, smile flashing in the shadows, hands directing his words, a conductor of his own story.

“—so the audio should be finished by—ooh! Wait go back! Go back!”

The remote almost falls out of Dom’s hands as he fumbles to change the channel again. The sports cast flickers to something softer; a crowd of people milling about or standing in lines in a large indoor area. There are tables and booths set up in the background, but the foreground is dominated by a table at which sit a middle-aged woman and an older man in a tweed jacket. On the table between them is an intricately designed lamp with a garish shade made of bright glass and brass swirls. The man in the tweed jacket is indicating areas of the lamp with a pen and talking about the authenticity of the item in a low rumble of a voice.

“The…Antique Roadshow?” Dom questions, glancing at Cody.

“Yeah! It’s kind of cool to see what historical stuff shows up and to learn the history of it,” Cody says, “Also, sometimes, me and Milo would play this game where we would guess if something is haunted or not and then try and decide what kinda ghost is doing the haunting. He gets bored of it real quick though.”

“Hm…” Dom looks back at the—frankly hideous—lamp on the screen, “Well, uh, I don’t know a lot about ghosts but…if there was a ghost haunting that thing, it would probably be someone really annoying with no taste.”

Cody laughs, “I think I would feel bad for anyone who was stuck haunting that! It’s ugly!”

Dom finds himself chuckling along with him, “A, uh, I think the word is…ostentatious?”

They both laugh.

They’re still laughing an hour or so later, when the popcorn bowls are empty and it’s gone dark outside. Cody has tucked himself against Dom’s side, Dom’s arm around his shoulders, holding him close.

The cold, bitter hole that had been chewing him up on the inside is long gone. It’s nothing but tenderness and warmth and little rays of sunshine. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Dom knows it will come back. But it’s gone, for now. And he’s warm.

He’s happy.

*********

“Ah! Here! Lemme help with that!” A burly arm sweeps out of nowhere and scoops some of grocery bags from Dom’s struggling grip. Most of the grocery bags, really.

“Thanks…” Dom breathes, sending an uneven smile up at Dan, “Sorry about the trouble…”

“Not trouble at all!” Dan’s own smile is wide and bright and honest, his stride confident and comfortable as he follows Dom to the front door, “I was just coming home and you looked like you needed some help. And it never hurts to help.”

Dom only hums in response, holding open the door to let Dan sidle past and set the groceries down in the kitchen. The house is quiet—Cody’s out, probably getting into trouble with Milo—and Dom feels selfish for enjoying the peace of it. He’s exhausted, drained, his entire body feels heavy and his thoughts are muddy. He sinks into a chair at the kitchen table and rubs his eyes. He still has to put away the groceries and make some dinner and he should probably shower and maybe he should fold those clean clothes he hasn’t touched in a week and when’s the last time he vacuumed and—

“Long day?” Dan’s voice cuts through the deluge of thoughts threatening to drown him. Dom sighs into his hands, can only nod in response because even talking feels like it would take too much energy, “Sorry you had a rough day, buddy. But, hey, lookit that! You still went and bought groceries and you’re home now! So you can relax, just a for a bit. Take a breather, Dom, you look like you need it.”

His fingers tangle in his hair as Dom raises his head to explain that while he appreciates Dan’s advice, he really doesn’t have time to sit about and daydream. But he finds himself struck a bit speechless because Dan has put all the groceries away while Dom’s just been sitting on his ass feeling sorry for himself. It doesn’t shock him that Dan knows where everything goes, just that Dan would even take the time to do it. Dom could have done it, he’d just needed a minute.

Dan’s still smiling as he folds up the paper bags and stows them in the pantry, “Oh yeah, almost forgot—would you and Cody like to join us for dinner tonight?” He straightens up, hands on his hips, a life preserver to a man floundering in a sea of responsibilities and fears, “I’m making lasagna and I always make way too much of it. And it’s been a while since we’ve had dinner together.”

The relief that makes the burdens of the day slough off his shoulders makes Dom feel like he could float away. It buzzes in his chest, louder than the nasty little voice that says he’s lazy or that he’s taking advantage of Dan’s good nature.

“Thanks, I…I’d like that…”

********

Miranda hands him a small stack of thick, hardcover books. They’re a little banged up and well loved, the spines soft and their corner dented, but they’re well cared for all the same. Dom cycles through them—there’s four of them and all of them are about woodworking of various degrees. He glances up at her, half from confusion and half from wondering if she’s trying to say something.

She’s twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, something he recognizes as a bit of a nervous habit, a twinge of uncertainty, “A coworker had a bunch of old books they were getting rid of. Brought in a couple of milk crates worth of them. I know you like working with your hands and—and building stuff, that kind of thing. So I thought I’d…snag them for you.” Her face is a delicate shade of pink and she keeps glancing at him from under her lashes.

Dom looks from her to the books. He opens the top book to a random page, skims a description of re-scaling an existing design to make a miniature version of it. He might have gotten caught up in it completely if he hadn’t been hyper away of Miranda standing in front of him.

He lets the book fall closed and smiles at her. That pleasantly warm feeling is curling in his chest again, pooling wonderfully in his stomach until his cheeks flush,

“These are—they’re awesome. Wonderful, Mira. I love them. Thank you.”

Miranda’s smiles explodes and she throws her arms around him. Her lips touch the corner of his mouth and Dom feels soda bubbles burst inside him like fireworks.

*********

Something a little like frustrated panic clutches tightly at Dom’s throat when he hears a knock on the front door.

It still feels like its on the verge of choking him when he opens the door and finds Milo standing there with a folder clutched to his chest.

“Hi, um, I know Cody’s sick but I brought his homework from school so if he feels kinda better sometime he won’t get behind in class.” Milo is unusually subdued, no doubt missing his usual partner in crime and as equally worried about Cody as Dom is.

“Thank you, Milo, that’s very kind of you.” Dom runs a hand through his hair, realizes it’s shaking and quickly takes the offered folder from Milo before the teenager can notice.

Milo rocks back on his heels, glances from Dom to the house behind him and then back to Dom, “Um. Dom—um—Mister Bridges—uh, I know—um. That is, uh…” He fidgets, fumbles, wrinkling his nose as he searches for the right words and Dom is more than prepared to tell him that no, he cannot see Cody, Jake would hang him for it if he did, when Milo blurts out,

“Do you need help with anything?”

“You ca—I…I’m sorry, what?”

Milo’s ears are red, “I, uh, d-do you need any help? With anything?” He’s tugging absently on his hoodie strings, self conscious and still rocking back and forth on his heels, “You’re probably—well I know—um. Shoot. Y-you’re taking care of Cody so I wanted…to ask…if there’s was anything…you needed help with…”

Dom hesitates, wants to tell Milo to just go home because he’s a teenager and he’s been in school all day and he deserves to enjoy his youth. But Milo’s expression is so earnest and he certainly looks like he’s been worrying and fretting all day. Dom wants to think that maybe Jake or Dan put him up to this but Milo’s still got his school bag slung over his shoulder which means he hasn’t even been home himself yet. Dom can’t fight the soft and gentle smile that appears on his face,

“Go ask your dads if they’re okay with it first. Then maybe you can help me tackle these dishes, okay?”

Milo brightens instantly, “Okay!” And he scurries off to burst into the house next door.

To be honest, Dom doesn’t expect him to come back. But he does, full of energy and ready to go. He’s a bit infectious and soon Dom finds himself caught up in the whirlwind that is Milo Junior. Dom spends his time flitting up and down the stairs between Cody’s room and the kitchen and by the time he’s gotten some food in his son and coaxed him to go back to sleep, Milo has washed and put away all the dirty dishes in the sink.

“Shhh! Don’t tell Jake I know how to load a dishwasher!” Milo hisses in a loud whisper as he shoves Dom’s dishwasher closed with a clunk, “I’ve been doing it bad on purpose so he stopped asking me!”

Dom laughs. It feels bright and hot and brilliant inside him, spilling liquid honey up his throat,

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

********

Miranda’s humming something, her fingers carding lazily through Dom’s hair. Her other hand is draped over his chest, their fingers woven together, puzzle pieces that click together perfectly. Dom’s free hand is resting at the base of his throat, his thumb idly rubbing against the edge of the top button on his shirt. He has his head on her lap, his eyes heavy and lidded and unfocused. In this moment, he simply is. He is safe and comfortable and the warm gentleness of the whole thing has him floating on a delicate cloud of candy floss and downy feathers, lethargically sinking into a hot bath of love, attention, and affection.

More out of habit than anything else, Dom glances at the clock on the television stand. It takes his tired brain a moment to process the time, but once it does, he jolts into alertness,

“Dinner! We—we gotta get ready if we’re gonna make it!”

He goes to get up, already dreading the notion of being out in public where people can see him and judge him and make their assumptions, where he has to communicate with those who don’t understand him, where out there will never be as safe as in here. It makes his stomach clench and his appetite sink rapidly into a tar pit of nausea.

“Wait.”

Miranda presses a hand to his shoulder, steers him to lay back down in her lap. Dom holds her wrist, brow furrowed,

“Mira, our dinner…”

“Let’s just…stay in.” She says in a low voice, leaning over him. Her golden hair frames her face in the lamplight, curtaining them both off from the rest of the world, “We can order some pizza or something, I don’t mind. I’d like it to just…be you and me.” She leans closer and the heat rises in Dom’s face, “Just the two of us,” She’s a breath away and Dom can smell peppermint and lilacs and just a hint of that clean, slightly chemical scent that follows a doctor everywhere,

“Together.”

If they kiss, no one would be able to see it past the golden cascades of Miranda’s hair.

Her hand stays in Dom’s and he forgets about how relieved he is that they’re staying home because he’s too busy falling in love with her all over again.

********

Cody sets a glass of water down in front of Dom, smiles when Dom looks up at him with a question on his face.

“I was getting one for myself so I got one for you too,” Cody says with a shrug, “You looked thirsty!”

It’s not until Dom takes a drink that he realizes how parched he is.

It also strikes him that he hasn’t gotten up from the table in several hours. His joints pop and groan in protest when he stands up.

The numbers and words on the bills in front of him were blurring into obscurity anyway. He’s going to check on what Cody’s up to instead.

The bills are long forgotten as he spends the rest of the day watching his son play video games, simply enjoying the enthusiastic company.

********

Dom pushes his safety glasses to the top of his head and gives up starring at the miter saw with a heavy sigh. He’s not going to be getting anything done today.

He wanders to the front of his garage and sinks down onto the pile of lumber by the open door facing the street, peeling his work gloves off his hands and dropping them onto the wood beside him. He feels heavy, like something’s pushing down on him, crushing him slowly into the dirt. All the plans he’d made for the day feel pointless and empty.

He feels pointless and empty.

And stupid.

He’s staring an infinite black hole into the pavement between his peeling sneakers when someone’s approaching footsteps make him raise his head. It feels like lifting a thousand ton weight.

Jake is standing a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his slim jeans, his button up open to show a faded band t-shirt underneath. His expression is carefully blank but he’s chewing on his bottom lip in a manner that suggests there’s a thousand thoughts going through his head.

“Hi,” Says Dom and his voice sounds flat and lifeless and it makes his throat close up.

“Hey,” Jake nods, shifts his weight awkwardly, “Mind if I, uh, take a seat?”

Dom pats the lumber next to him and Jake eases down, glancing at the wood as if checking for splinters. His hands leave his pockets and his fingers get tangled in each other, twisting in and out and over as he fidgets. Dom can see the movement out of the corner of his eye but it’s much easier to keep staring at the sun bleached pavement.

“Thought I would have heard your power tools going by now.” Jake says in a somewhat forced conversational manner. Dom shrugs, makes a noncommittal noise. Jake sighs, takes a deep breath, lets it out again, finally says in a stern voice,

“Dom. You have depression.”

That startles him out of his stupor enough to turn and look at Jake, “What? What, no. I don’t.”

Jake frowns, not in disappointment, in something like solidarity and determination, “Yes, you do.”

“No, I—“

“Dominic, I literally have depression. I know what I’m talking about.” When Dom opens his mouth to protest further, Jake cuts him off,

“You feel tired almost all the time, even when you’ve gotten enough sleep. Sometimes you don’t sleep at all and sometimes that’s all you do. You either eat too much or you don’t eat at all or you eat just enough to keep going, even when you feel nauseous at the idea of food. You get frustrated with yourself because you can’t do what you want, you feel like you never have enough energy, and you blame everything on yourself.” Jake’s talking faster now, words spilling out, a floodgate of awful truths and buried thoughts cascading out in an awful tidal wave that’s black as pitch, “You feel like everything is your fault and nothing will ever be okay ever again and you’re going to be stuck in this hellish tar pit for the rest of your life! Because there isn’t anything better! There’s nothing outside the tar pit and you’d rather let yourself sink to the bottom and drown there than try to struggle anymore because you’re tried and you’re hurt and no one can ever understand how hard it is to live like this! And even though you hate yourself for giving up you just can’t do it anymore!”

The words break off into a ringing silence.

Jake is trembling slightly, shivering in the summer heat, because it feels so damn cold all of a sudden. His eyes are bright and hard but there are tears clinging to the corners and his jaw in clenched and his gaze pins Dom to the spot with accusation and something like desperation. And maybe not a hint of fear. Dom wants to look away, to shake his head, to tell Jake he’s got it wrong. But, god, he can’t.

Not when Jake’s dropped his guard like this.

To his eternal shame, Dom’s eyes get hot and his lower lip trembles. He drops his face into his hands with a muffled curse, trying to push it all back down, trying to bury it all back where it belongs deep inside him where it can’t bother anyone else.

“Dom, please…” Jake’s hand is on his shoulder, squeezing, grounding, reassuring, “I’ve…I didn’t want to say anything, I really didn’t because—I know it’s such a hard thing—personal. And I wouldn’t have said—I would have left this alone if I thought you were…” He trails off, steels himself, takes a shaky breath,

“Cody came to talk to me.”

Dom looks up at him, can’t decide if he’s horrified or in despair or hurt. Jake looks apologetic, his expression crinkling up and his hands shaking, holding himself steady despite the lingering threads of fear tugging at him to run from the situation.

“Cody?” Dom croaks, hates that he sounds so damaged, hates that it��s another thing to prove Jake right, ��Is he—“

“Cody’s fine, this was a while ago.” Jake’s gaze darts away, comes back, drops to his knees, looks up at Dom again, “I just…wasn’t sure how to approach you about it.” A weird, slightly manic and cynical chuckle rattles out of his lungs, “I guess now’s a good a time as any.” Seriousness falls back into place, a door clicking shut but the key still in the lock,

“He approached me because…because he knows you’re hurting. Dom, he came up to me and he was trying hard not to cry and he told me “I think my dad’s sick and he won’t get help”.”

Dom thinks his heart shatters into a million pieces when he hears those words. His shaking hands fist into the front of his paint-stained shirt and he makes a choked off noise that desperately wants to be a sob, but Dom refuses to let it be.

Jake expression is desperate, begging, pleading for Dom to understand, “He knows something’s wrong and he wants to know how to help you. I know this probably isn’t something you want to hear, that it’s—it’s such an impossible thing to try and process but, Dom, he’s just a kid and he knows that you’re not doing okay.”

And Dominic Bridges finally breaks.

Right there, on a pile of lumber in his garage, talking to his neighbor, he puts his face in his hands and he cries.

Because he knows Jake is right.

And it kills him.

********

“It’s okay, I’ll be right out here for you,” Miranda says quietly, squeezing Dominic’s hand in her own, “I’m really proud of you for doing this.”

Dom is shaking in his seat, his leg bouncing insistently, cold sweat sticking to the back of his shirt. His mouth is dry and every time he swallows that just seems to make it worse. He feels like his voice is stuck somewhere in the vicinity of his shoes and he wants so badly to trample it as he runs out the building.

But there’s a fee for canceling appointments after 24 hours and Miranda has taken the time to come with him and she’d be so disappointed and—

—and Dom actually wants to try.

So when the therapist steps into the waiting room and calls his name, he takes a deep breath and stands up. His legs are jelly and he thinks he might pass out and some part of him is screaming that this is a waste of his time and money and he shouldn’t be here. But when he glances over his shoulder at Miranda before he walks through the door, she gives him a huge smile and makes a little heart with her hands.

And Dom thinks that maybe, just this one time, he can try and do something for himself for a change.

#-dabs in clinical depression-#whoa sage wrote something that's not angst and horror! surprise!#dominic #fan fiction

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nekolatte · 4 years ago

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Chapter 7: Two Back

Preview: Trevor sighed and wished he was drunker for this conversation. “Even if all I manage to do is get the lot of you killed?” “You saved far more of us yesterday than had you not intervened at all.”

“And here I stayed awake all night, stricken with grief.”

The words barely registered through the haze of sleep, understood more as a slurry of sound to Trevor as he attempted to claw his way up into consciousness. Small details of his surroundings began forming, settling into place to paint a picture. He was outside, after running from Dracula's horde. On the floor and in pain, because he fought with Alucard. The man in question still fast asleep, despite being the lighter sleeper of the group, because he had been close to dying and still refused the one thing that might helpー

Trevor started violently, shooting up with eyes wide but glazed over, arms around the limp body resting on himー ignoring the surprised sound at his side to blindly search for a pulse. He found it after jabbing fingers against the vulnerable skin of Alucard's throat, the rhythm sluggish but there and hating that he didn't know if this was normal for a half-breed. Maybe that's why he was always so pale.

Guiding the vampire down onto his lap, easily rearranged into a more comfortable position despite the dead-weight, Trevor scrubbed the last bits of sleep from bruised eyes while his heart got back under control only to skyrocket when he remembered Syphaー

"Thank you for finally remembering about me." Wide eyes turned to find the mage in question watching him with a bland smile. Trevor was no coward, but he may have wilted under her sharp gaze a bit. "My night went by fantastically, though not as well as yours, I imagine."

Sypha pointedly looked at the body in his lap, and before Trevor looked too he noticed the red of her eyes, the smearing of dirt on her cheeks. Her heavy slouch from where she crouched next to them and the tightness of her body language. It eased a bit, when she reached out and brushed Alucard's hair out of his face to feel the slight puff of air from his breathing.

Then Trevor noticed the protective arm he had thrown over the man's chest, the other cradling his head and… just decided to leave them. Sypha already saw, already made her assumptions. Trevor was too exhausted to make sense of it himself right now.

"I'm sorry." His voice sounded rougher than after spending a whole night binge-drinking cheap-shelf spirits, and his mouth tasted the same. Every inch of him hurt, a headache forming that was making it hard to see. He just wanted to drape himself over Alucard and sleep but he owed Sypha a proper apology.

She didn't lift her hand from brushing back Alucard’s hair, but caught Trevor in the corner of an eye. There was still pain there, a vengeful accusation that she wasn't going to bring up just yet, so Trevor continued.

"I should've tried harder to get back to you, I promised you I would. You were injured and I sent you off on your own, with God knows what going through your head. Knowing you needed help, that you'd be waiting. I shouldー there was so much more I could have done. I shouldn't have set those villagers at the front lineー I should've pulled them back, set up a barrier. Or used the silos to guard our back instead ofー"

Sypha threw herself at him and cut off any rambling that might have followed. She hugged Trevor around the shoulders, clung as if he were about to send her off on her own again. A spot of wetness soaked through the collar of his tunic to reach skin. He drew an arm from around Alucard to wrap it around Sypha instead and crushed her to his side with what strength he was regaining.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, with Alucard softly snoring between them, Trevor sinking into the warm comfort of finding each of them safe, relatively speaking. Neither he nor Sypha willing to break the peace, though they couldn’t stay there forever. It was Sypha who pulled away first and put herself together after a huff and a rapid blink of lashes.

"You two are alive, and that is what matters now." She dusted at her ruined robes, torn and bloody, before reaching down to grab Alucard's wrists. "We need to move on."

Trevor could only nod and help her get Alucard’s limp body up, maneuvering awkwardly until the vampire was draped over Trevor's back, Sypha following close behind to keep them both steady. She guided the way through the forest, the horses closer than he remembered them being, and he questioned her with a small frown.

"I had to come looking!" She defended herself with a glare and said nothing else as she unlatched the backdoor of the carriage and two pairs of eyes peeked warily from under the heavy tarp. "Oh, this is Milo and Daria. Ilinca is in the frontー they were, um... We all escaped together."

Out of what was likely a hundred or so villagers, now there were only three. Trevor tried not to let the horror of it show on his face as Sypha shooed the children back so Trevor could set Alucard down. Without prompting, the mage climbed in right behind and tried to get him settled comfortably on the wooden bed, wasting no time to inspect his injuries.

That left Trevor to drive, then.

He walked around and tried to ignore the stare of an ancient woman who was not impressed by what she saw, as if silently blaming Trevor for not being able to save her village. Too exhausted to care, he climbed into the seat and got the horses going with a sharp click of his tongue and a whip of the reins. They trotted obediently, strong creatures that didn’t seem phased in the slightest about the horrors that took place the night before. He waited until they were back on the road that would lead them further into Wallachia, before they took such a disastrous detour, to call Sypha for a heading. She scooted closer, and Trevor risked a glance back to find Alucard under the cover of one of the horse blankets while the children watched him.

“Ilinca told me a sister of hers lives in a city not too far from here. If they have managed to withstand Dracula's hordes, her and the children will be safe there.”

Trevor caught what was unsaid, that they needed to find a safe place for their charges first and foremost before dealing with their own problems. He didn’t like itー didn’t like the deep-sleep state Alucard was in. Hibernation , like the first time they encountered him in that coffin under Gresit. Except this hadn’t been some demonic vampire lord that felled his only child but some random demon that got lucky. He cursed under his breath and quickly apologized when the old crone gave him a scalding look, muttering darkly to himself about how he anticipated the ride to be long.

Sypha had fallen asleep sometime around noon, the children followed closelyー huddled and clinging to her robes as if she was the last of their innocence they were desperate to keep. And Alucard hadn’t stirred once.

It was just him and the crone, both seemingly content with the silence. Hardly amicable, but it didn’t weighー they were two people, sharing space for as long as it took them to get where they needed to go. He didn’t anticipate making any conversation, but was pleasantly surprised when a drink of something strong was placed right under his nose. He took the gourd, gave the old woman a bewildering look, but as she didn’t deem him worthy of a glance, Trevor shrugged his shoulders and sipped.

Strong and spiced, earthy. Delicious with the right kick in the sack to banish the lingering exhaustion in his eyes. He stared down at it once again before handing it back.

“What the hell is that?”

“Tonic of my own making.” She didn’t sound like Trevor expected her toー her voice was sweet, gentle. A cool caress across a fevered forehead. “I used to make it for the farmers, during the early grain harvest. This was the last of it, before the monsters showed.”

And of course all topics had to return back to the horde, to how Trevor failed spectacularly.

“I’m sorry.” Trevor already apologized once today; he might as well just keep on going. He was sorry for allowing the village to fall, for not saving as many people as he could. For allowing his companions to come to harm, for letting them down. For not being better, faster, stronger . He was sorry for not being worth the holy blade that took the rest of his family, forced to be the last Belmont. A useless, pathetic drunk, playing at hero when he would rather lose himself in drink and die in a ditch somewhere for the wolves to feed on. “I am truly sorry.”

Trevor expected nothing in return for the emotion he poured into the single word, but what he didn’t anticipate was for a hard smack to the shoulder. He reasoned that the only reason it hurt was because he was still recuperating from last night, and not because the old crone still had strength in her withered limbs.

“What the hell.” He snarled, ready to pull at the horses so he could drop the woman off on the side of the road and leave her to fend for herself. Or at least fantasize about it for all of a glorious second, knowing he would never be able to bring himself to do it.

“Did I ask for an apology?” Ilinca retorted without even half the venom Trevor had for her, and he felt a trickle of shame slipping down his spine at it.

Trevor shrugged a shoulder and turned back to the road for something to focus on instead of the heavy weight of the old woman’s stare. They settled into silence for only a few moments before she deemed him calm enough to continue.

“I did not say that to remind you of perceived failures but that you may remember the people you fought for. I don’t have much time in this world, and I have my own doubts about how useful I can be to two children who have lost all they’ve known and must struggle in the cruel world to come. They may never remember their old home, may not wish to, but I don’t want their parents, their relatives, friends and neighbors to be forgotten. Another tally of victims that fell to dark creatures that slaughtered for no reason at all.” A bony hand settled on his arm and squeezed around the vambrace.

“Remember my people, young man. Continue fighting for those who cannot.”

Trevor sighed and wished he was drunker for this conversation. “Even if all I manage to do is get the lot of you killed?”

“You saved far more of us yesterday than had you not intervened at all.”

Said with such certainty that Trevor had to agree. Would it have been better if they kept going, never to have known the names of Ilinca, Daria and Milo? The more dominant part of his mind thought 'of course' , the part that was twisted with grief and distrust, but he knew it to be false. It would’ve hurt more knowing he could’ve saved someonerather than none at all due to inaction.

He was a Belmont, and despite the struggles and sorrow that awaited him, he had to keep fighting. It was his family’s creed, all he had to live up to now.

“Okay,” was all he could manage to say and was offered the gourd once more. Trevor drank from it greedily and somehow managed not to get sloppy drunk by the time the sun started to set.

The traveling group managed to reach the city just as it started to draw up its bridge for the night, Trevor having traded places with Sypha and the children so the guards at post would be more willing to allow them through. The horses were bitter at the long journey they were forced to endure, and refused to be tended to once the group found a stable to settle them in.

Not wanting to neglect this duty, and a more major part being that Alucard was still in deep sleep within the covered carriage, Trevor volunteered to stay behind to tend to the horses and keep an eye on Alucard while Sypha and Ilinca took the children to find Ilinca’s sister.

From within the corral stationed at the edge of the city walls, Trevor took notice of the flurry of activity despite the dimming hour. There were many soldiers present, more than Trevor thought a city of this size could hold, though a trained eye told him that not all were seasoned in the professionー many young, and even some women disguised among the ranks. They rushed people home, snuffed out any and every flame they came across. By the light of the heavy moon above, they went around and doused buildings with buckets of water pulled from large basins carted by strong, hefty horses.

It took him a few moments to realize it was holy water.

It took him a bit longer to realize one of the cart’s paths led straight to where Alucard currently slept. The tarp was meant to be waterproof, he knew, but his heart clenched painfully, and he leapt into action all the same. At this point of their travels, Trevor really should’ve known if Alucard was in any danger, should know more about his acquaintances than their names, but he didn’t. He didn’t and now he was forced to act irrationally, compulsively, climbing into the back of the cart with his back towards the roadー Alucard shielded with Trevor’s own body as best he could manage.

Those tense, few moments of water crashing against the side, over the top, gliding down in invisible rivulets, lasted far too long. Trevor’s heart hammered with adrenaline, though with no means to shake it loose from his system he started to tremble from the force of it. Made to wait until the soldiers marched on and nothing happened, immediately feeling ridiculous though thankful no one was around to see him overreact.

Trevor was ready to return to the horses when the minuscule sound of a droplet falling caught his trained ear and a sharp hiss of pain followed after. Trevor turned, expecting the worstー like Alucard’s face melting offー though was relieved in a way he didn’t think possible to see groggy eyes staring back at him from the dim. There was a glow to them Trevor never noticed before, didn’t care to notice, and was surprised when he failed to react the way he normally did when coming face-to-face with Alucard’s otherness.

Taking more caution to not appear like a damn fool, Trevor quietly approached at a more sedated pace, and sat at Alucard’s side. Trevor eyed him up and down, noting he hadn’t moved at all.

“Hey, still with us?”

A pause followed by a tense grunt was all the response he got in return. Trevor tried not to sigh but failed, knowing his disappointment was clear to see by the minuscule pinch of Alucard’s brow.

“Still not going to let me help, are you?”

That pinch deepened just a bit, erased by shock of surprise when a droplet fell from above and sizzled on Alucard’s cheek. It stirred him further, and like a dead man rising from the grave, Alucard took great pains to sit up.

Trevor stayed silent, on his side of the carriage, another shot of adrenalineー to make him move, make him help, make him do somethingー made him shake and he clenched a fist tight to suppress it.

“Do I need to go hunt a couple of rats for you to chew on,” the words came out bitter, stinging his own tongue when unleashed. Though Trevor couldn’t stop himself and didn’t really want to. “Since my blood seems too inadequate for your refined palate?”

A sneer was reward for the question, lip raised to show off the fangs that Trevor hated so much. He was forced to sit there and watch Alucard wheeze in a deep breath for speech. “The smell will draw attention.”

Trevor scoffed, irritated in such a ferocious capacity that he couldn’t begin to understand, and turned away to climb out of the carriage without another word given. That small bit of camaraderie they reached the night before must have been left behind in the forest because there was none of it here. Trevor thought, probably stupidly, that they would put this idiotic game behind them and act like proper adults. But, apparently, he was the only one that thought it.

With a half-hearted wave over his shoulder, Trevor went back to the horses to sleep on a pile of hay and entirely missed the weak hand stretching out for him.

#go for gold #trevorcard #castlevania

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whumpschild · 4 years ago

Text

Carson/ Tyler series crossover (Part 1)

@writehardwhumpharder

Carson hadn't expected a knock at the door, it was around 4pm in the middle of June and Daniel wouldn't be home until 7:45pm. He answered the door only to see a familiar face he hadn't seen since November of last year. It was Tyler, a guy who he had met in Oregon on an investigation about magical murders all over the country. His striking purple eyes stood out the instant carson opened the door as well as the large scar on his forehead.

“What the hell?” Carson said in surprise “Why are you here? How the hell do you know where I live?”

“Riley told me.” Tyler said. If she’s gonna go handing around my information the least could do is give me some warning, Carson thought to himself. Just then his phone binged, it was a text from Riley saying she sent a special somebody over. The whole point of a warning is to tell me before something happens. Carson thought to himself.

“Well since you’re already here I guess you can come in.” Carson walked away, leaving the door wide open for Tyler to follow him.

“Thanks ya know,” Tyler said as he walked in ,closing the door and locking it behind him. “Are you still wearing pajamas? It's like 4pm ya know.”

“Eh, it’s the weekend,” Carson shrugged.

“Its Thursday,” Tyler corrected

Carson stopped in front of the couch and glared at him before sitting back down where he was sitting before he got there, “What’s your point?”

“I don’t have one.” Tyler usually was fully dressed and looking Presentable even on the weekends so he felt the need to comment on Carson's appearance.

“It’s kind of bad timing. I’m really busy today,” Carson sighed. Truthfully, he just felt a little uncomfortable and surprised.

“Really? What’cha up to?

“Uh…” He had to pause to think about it, he was sure he had something planned. Oh yeah, “Um, well, I was gonna have some tea later and maybe read a book…”

“Reading sounds cool, I don't like tea though, it tastes like grass to me.”

“Aren’t you like half-british?”

“No i was born and raised in America ya know, i just have the accent.”

“Coffee then?”

“You bet, could you put a lot of sugar in it?”

“Sure, whatever. Just sit down.”

Tyler took Carson's offer and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

“You can find a book to read as long as you’re careful with it,” Carson motioned to the massive bookshelf behind him, full of a strange assortment of books. Most of them looked worn and old. Tyler's eyes lit up like fireworks as he speed walked towards the books, he looked like a kid in a toy store. A lot of the books were magic, something that wasn't often sold in bookstores in his small town in oregon. Tyler had driven all the way from Oregon to New York because he had been given a three week vacation after being promoted after a case. He drove because he hated flying at all costs, it took him four days to get there. But he really enjoyed all the things he saw on the way there.

Tyler picked out a thick book that had something to do with magic items and went straight to reading. There were lots of things like how wands worked or how you could draw effective Magic circles. Carson brought over a cup of coffee and handed it To Tyler. Carson looked over his shoulder and looked at what he was reading.

“The journals are my favorite. I got all these from Daniel’s shop,” Carson said without looking up.

Tyler got excited, he had never seen anything like this before and there somebody was, who had a ton of it. “Really? Wait do you live here alone or with daniel? I kind of had the idea you guys were roommates in addition to being good friends ya know.

“With Daniel, he’s just at work right now.”

“Oh cool,” Tyler stopped and pointed to something written in latin. “What is this? I don't think I’ve seen it before.”

“Well I don’t speak latin but I can tell one of the symbols involved is about heat. So I guess it’s some kind of spell for that.”

“Could you teach me?” Tyler said setting his head on the back of the couch. “Ya know, how to do it?

“Personally, I manipulate heat by adding and removing life energy from a space. Can you move magic?”

“I’m not sure. Never tried.”

“If you can see it I’m sure you can move it. It just takes a lot of practice and guessing.” Carson told him. He set down his book to give him his attention.

“See what? Magic? You can see stuff like that?”Tylers curiosity peaked. He could sure sense magic and other psychics but not see it.

“Remind me, what are your powers exactly?” He needed a starting off point. Unfortunately, they were completely different kinds of magicians.

Tyler sat and thought for a second “Well I can see in people's minds, I can lift things and manipulate objects like a light pole or a cup. Oh if we had a small bit of something already burning, I could make it burn more, or snuff it out completely. “ Tyler paused and looked at the book. He had the power of a third eye but it wasn't fully in control yet so he didn't want to mention it.

“That’s basically like manipulating heat then. That’s how I make flames. I guess the real question is can you do the opposite and freeze something?”

“Hmm, Maybe if you gave me an ice cube in a cup of water i could make the whole cup freeze.”

“Give it a try. Kitchen is back there,” he pointed over his shoulder.

“Freezing something?” Tyler asked, tilting his head and shifting up his glasses.

Carson looked up at him, “Yeah. Let’s see if you can do it.”

Tyler got up off the couch and walked to the kitchen, “Which cupboards are your cups in?”

“Left of the sink,” he called back.

Tyler grabbed a cup that was plastic just in case it broke, so it would be easy to replace, filled it up with water, and put an ice cube in it then walked back to the couch. Tyler set the cup on the coffee table and sat on the floor next to it and concentrated. He took off his glasses and hooked them on the neck of his purple T-shirt. He stared intensely at the cup and hovered his hands over it. It took a minute but in a quick flash the water froze from the ice cube out as it cracked the cup. It let out a light wave of cool air around Tyler's hands and Carson could feel it slightly. “I'm glad I got a plastic one, right?” Tyler said as his nose started a small stream of blood.

“Jeez, you could have mentioned you have no control over your powers. Here, if you get blood on the couch Daniel will kill me,” he forced a box of tissues in his direction. Tyler grabbed a tissue and put it over his nose. He then noticed how cold his hands had become even though it was summer.

Tyler continued trying to freeze things and melt things for the next few hours while Carson coached him then somebody walked in the door. It was Daniel. He looked a little tired but not too tired.

Daniel set his things down then walked into the living room looking puzzled, “Hi Tyler. No one told me you were coming by but it’s nice to see you.”

“No one told me either,” Carson chimed in.

He sat down next to Carson then let his eyes trail down to the coffee table in front of him. It was littered with broken cups. “Uh… what have you two been up to?” Daniel perked up and started looking at the mess in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the trash can had been moved to next to the opposite couch. “What the hell is that? Carson, did you-” He looked like he was about to start a lecture.

“Carson is teaching me how to manipulate heat, don't worry about your cups. I'll buy more for you,” Tyler said, still sitting on the floor then leaning back and supporting himself on his hands behind him.”Wanna see?”

“Sure,” he said.

Tyler grabbed a cup on the table that had not broken yet with a half melted ice cube and did everything he was doing before. “Cool ya know?” his nose started to bleed slightly again but not as bad as the last few times where it took two tissues to stop. Carson again handed Tyler a tissue so he could wipe away the blood.

Daniel’s brows furrowed slightly with concern and he looked between Tyler and Carson. “Yeah, that’s cool. Maybe you should take a break.” He suggested.

“Why? It’s kinda fun to do it. I can melt it too.” Tyler said standing up he became slightly unsteady on his feet as his minor blood loss made him dizzy.

Daniel quickly stood and grabbed his shoulder, urging him to sit back down. “Like I was saying, I think it’s a good time for a break,” he subtly leaned over and started gathering the cups on the table to take away.

Carson perked up suddenly, “Wait a sec. Where did your blob go?”

“Blob?” Tyler was confused for a second “Oh yeah. Milo? I made him stay back in oregon. I'm on vacation ya know. I can't just bring my supernatural entities anywhere.”

“Oh, by the way,” Carson leaned toward him, “Don’t open that door. Daniel’s cat, Pixie, is in there so just… try not to die.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” Tyler said. “ speaking of dying.” He asked Daniel to grab him his backpack that he had with him by the couch. Daniel did what he asked as Tyler took out his inhaler and took it even though he wasn't wheezing.

“What’s that for?” Daniel asked. He remembered Tyler had asthma but he seemed to be breathing okay at the moment.

“Flare up, it's when, maybe for a few weeks at a time, it gets really bad ya know. I gotta take an inhaler every four hours.”

“Well good luck with that,” Carson said. “So how long are you going to be in New York?”

“Two weeks,” Tyler said as he suddenly realized what time it was. “Aw shit. I forgot to get a hotel,” Tyler said while putting on a light sweater and trying to get his stuff together.

“Two weeks?!” Daniel asked in shock, “What kind of supernatural threat is out there you need to be here that long? God damn.”

“None,” Tyler said “I got a promotion ya know.” Tyler said with enthusiasm. in his voice “ I got a three week vaction ya know.”

“Congrats,” Daniel told him. “So what did you come all the way out here for if you’re not working? Don’t you hate planes?”

“I felt like it, I didn't really get a chance to go sight seeing when i was here last ya know?” Tyler said, shifting around. “Of course I hate planes, I drove here. You miss a lot if you take a plane ya know. It's not as interesting.”

“Sounds like hell but whatever, man.” Carson said.

Carson rummaged around the books left on the table and set some things aside, “So what’s for dinner?” He looked at Daniel expectantly.

“Oh, I don’t know. What do you think, Tyler?” Daniel asked.

“Carson doesn't eat meat right? How about stir fry? I know how to make it with ramen noodles. On worry by the way after dinner i'll go find a hotel that takes in people at the desk.” Tyler got up from the couch, Daniel was ready to grab him if he fell, he was still slightly worried about his blood loss. "Come on I'll teach ya how to make it." Tyler said coaxing Daniel to get up. They both went to the kitchen as Daniel grabbed things Tyler asked for like broccoli, corn ,carrots and five packets of ramen. Tyler pulled all of his hair back into a bun and washed his hands. While Tyler was cooking Daniel was making sure to write down all of the steps to make this for future reference.

By the end there was a large pan full of stir fried noodles. Daniel never really made this much before and the amount seemed a little much just for the three of them . It made Daniel wonder how big Tyler’s appetite really was. They all sat down and started eating. Carson wasn't always the biggest fan of food but it actually tasted pretty decent to him. Daniel got the idea, since everyone is allowed to drink alcohol that he would bring out wine for everyone.

Daniel stopped to think for a second "Tyler, do you drink?" He asked. To him, Tyler didn't look like the kind of person that drank alcohol.

"Yep, Not beer ya know, it tastes like a sewer." Tyler replied.

"I can agree with that." Carson said looking up from his food.

"It's wine," Daniel said, bringing over three cups. "How well do you handle alcohol? Carson's a light drinker so he gets tipsy pretty quickly. He's also kind of a light weight," Carson was a little offended by that comment. He wasn't that light of a drinker.

"How much do you weigh Carson?" Tyler asked.

"Around 145 pounds, You?"

Tyler's face turned slightly read like he was embarrassed. "136," He said, scratching the back of his neck. Tyler never went out of his way to not eat, in fact he had a very big appetite. It was just that when he worked he would frequently forget to eat. He would frequently go through periods of losing and gaining a normal amount of weight.

"Do you even eat dude?." Carson asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I do. I get distracted with work a lot. I got bills to pay ya know."

Carson moved his plate out of the way so Daniel could set down three glasses, “I picked a white wine, hope that’s okay with you, Tyler.” Once the glasses were full Daniel sat back down. “Carson wouldn’t eat either if I didn’t shove three plates of food in front of him everyday,” he shot him a look. Tyler laughed, these guys were entertaining.

Carson rolled his eyes but continued to poke at his food while Tyler scarfed down his whole plate at record speed. They were starting to understand why he cooked so much. He stared at the wine curiously and sniffed it before drinking. He had a strange habit of doing that with new things he ate or drank. They ate and drank, Carson and Daniel found out quickly that Tyler couldn't hold in alcohol because his half british accent became more incoherent as he started to sound like a sailor. It got worse when he insisted that Carson would teach him some simple magic. Daniel grabbed a piece of paper and a magic book and set them down in front of Tyler.

“What’s that for?” Tyler asked as Daniel pulled out a marker.

“We're gonna draw magic circles,” Daniel replied, flipping through the book then pointing to a symbol on the page. “Try and draw this.” Tyler took the marker and started drawing the circle on the page, it would be pretty accurate if the lines hadn’t been slightly shaky.

“Lets see if it can actually hold magic” Carson said. Flipping his vision to see if there was magic being held in it. Little flakes of magic were floating around in it like dust so it would hold well enough.

“Did it work? Tyler asked, resting his head on the table.

“I don't know, did it?”Carson asked. Carson could see if it was working but Tyler needed to figure that out for himself. Tyler studied the circle for a minute looking at it trying to see what he could find. He decided to put his hand over it when a sudden tingly feeling like tv static came through his fingers. “That feels weird, I think it worked.” Tyler said.

For the next hour or so. Carson and Daniel thought Tyler magic circles and how they worked and what they did. Tyler himself wasn't a magician , he was a psychic he dealt with more of a mental side but he was still capable of using it. Before he realised it it was around 10:30 pm. “Aw crap, I need to go. I still haven't checked into a hotel.” He said, grabbing his backpack and stumbling around before Daniel grabbed his arm.

“Do you really think drunk driving is a good idea?”Daniel asked with full intention of keeping Tyler there for the night.

“Good point,” he said “But where do I go now?” Tyler asked, the fact didn't click in his drunk brain that he already had somewhere to stay.

“Here, where else?”

“Oh, I'll sleep on the couch then.”

“You can take Carson's room.” Carson perked his head up in annoyance, that was his room Daniel can't just give it away.

“Won’t the couch do? Can’t I just sleep there?” Tyler asked Daniel, he didn't want Carson to be annoyed at him.

“Yeah Daniel, why can't he sleep there?” Carson complained

“Because i say so, he can’t stay in my room, Pixie's there. Your room is the only cat-free space in the whole apartment”

Tyler just kind of sat there with Daniel still holding on his arm he was definitely buzzed because his brain felt like TV static. “Can I have my arm back now?” Daniel looked back and let go of his arm “Sorry man,”

“Eh it's fine” They continued to sit around the table for a while talking about nonsense until they all got tired and went to bed, Tyler apologized to Carson for stealing his room as he only got a grunt as a response. Tyler sat on carsons bed and noticed a few bottles of pills; they were mainly bottles of antidepressants. He laid on his back and just stared at the ceiling, as he fell asleep the thoughts of other sleeping people rushed through him like he was used to.

Carson woke up around noon to find that Daniel was at work and Tyler was still sleeping. He had left the bedroom door slightly open so Carson could see him. He noticed that he tended to cough a lot in his sleep. He sat on the couch for an hour or so watching TV until Tyler finally decided to wake up and go sit on the couch with him and took a puff of his inhaler. Neither of them bothered to say anything, choosing instead to just focus on the show. They sat there quietly until Tyler stood up, grabbed some clothes, and asked if he could use the shower. Tyler took a whole twenty minutes in there, most of it was spent on his hair but he still took forever.

“I'm gonna go sightseeing, wanna come?” Tyler asked, coming out of the bathroom and putting on his glasses.

“Dunno,” Carson said from the couch with a sigh. He didn’t have any plans but he didn’t know if he wanted to go out either.

“I was thinking of going to Daniel’s bookstore. I’ll drive us...” Tyler suggested, trying to coax Carson into coming with him because he really didn't want to go alone.

“Fine,” Carson said. Tyler waited for Cason to get changed and ready to go. As he did, Tyler slipped his inhaler into his pocket and put on his purple converse. His hair tied in a bun which he always did in the summer. Tyler wore a short-sleeved white shirt and black cargo shorts that went to his knees. The shorts exposed a large scar on his right leg that he had gotten last November. Coincidentally, the last time he saw Carson before visiting.

After about ten minutes, Carson came out of his room in a button down shirt that he rolled the sleeves on to make it a little more appropriate for the weather. He slipped on his old grey converse that stopped just below the ankle. You could see Carson's mismatched socks peeking out. They walked down the hall and took the elevator down to street level. Tyler's car was parked around the corner at the closest available parking spot. As they walked Carson made a mental note to have Tyler park in the garage under their building when they get back. Tyler got behind the wheel then realized he didn't know where Daniel worked. “Hey, wanna drive? I don't know where he works and this city is huge.”

“Don't have a license,” Carson responded.

“Oh, why not?”

“It's not my fault, okay?” he said groaning, “Some idiot doctor misdiagnosed me and they took it for medical purposes. My lawyer is working on it.”

“That sucks ya know, sorry about that.” He said while turning on his phone and giving it to Carson. “Could you put in the address?”

On the way, Tyler took the time to admire the scenery every time he stopped at a red light. The buildings were huge. They towered over everything that would have been in Tylers town; the tallest building there would probably be the clock tower at the church. Several times Carson had to remind Tyler to keep his eyes on the road but his eyes couldn’t help but wander up the tall buildings, casting shadows over the road. It wasn’t long until they got to the bookstore and Carson directed him to park around back so they could avoid the meter.

A little bell chimed when they walked in and Carson immediately started looking for Daniel among the mess of bookshelves. There were a couple customers walking around, minding their own business.

Daniel poked his head up behind the register, ready to greet who he assumed were customers. His brows furrowed with surprise, “H- Wait, why are you here? Did something happen?” He asked, straightening up and walking around the counter to them.

“Nothing’s up, Tyler just wanted to see the city.” Carson told him, “Of course I generously offered to be his guide-”

Tyler cut him off, “No you didn’t.”

Daniel laughed and led them to the back room knowing they would probably prefer to look at books in private, away from the other customers. Carson walked around the place like it was his second home, he knew where everything was including the secret stash of magic books.

“You know, the cool thing about this place is that it isn’t just a regular bookstore. They specialize in rare, hard to find books. A lot of them aren’t even published, some are even handwritten by the authors. You never know what you might find,” Carson said proudly.

Tyler picked up a book and opened it to a random page, “Speaking of which, what the hell is this?”

Carson tilted his head to read the title, the ink was so washed out he could barely make out the letters, “Hmm, that one looks like a journal,” he looked over his shoulder to see that it was handwritten and pretty badly at that, “Yep, definitely a magician’s personal notes.”

“What’s this language?” Tyler asked.

Carson smirked, “English. Look closely.”

Tyler squinted at the book. The words really were in English. “Why is the handwriting so bad? It's worse than mine.”

“Eh, I’ve read that guy’s stuff before. Pretty sure he was an alcoholic,” Carson shrugged.

Tyler studied the handwriting as much as he could because some of it was faded. It did seem similar to somebody's handwriting that was intoxicated or high. That is something he was frequently used to analyzing since he was a detective. He also noticed there were a few strange blotches of something on the pages too, it might have been alcohol. If it wasn't he didn't want to know. “Probably, look at the stains, it might be alcohol ya know.”

“Hey can I see that real quick?” He asked, pointing at the book in Tyler’s hands.

“Yea go ahead,” Tyler said, handing the book over to Carson.

He wasted no time opening it up and holding it close to his face. Carson sniffed it so aggressively it was like he was trying to huff the damn thing. “Spiced rum, the good stuff,” he concluded then handed it back to him.

“What? How the hell do Ya know that?” Tyler asked in surprise “That thing is like 80 years old!”

“How don’t you know? You’re a detective aren’t you?” Carson didn’t mean it as an insult, it just seemed like something worth knowing in that line of work.

“I have literally drank three times in my whole life I wouldn't know. I'm not a forensic.”

“Sometimes I forget how young you are. Although that shouldn’t matter, I started drinking at 15.”

“That explains a few things,” he said jokingly and laughing. “I didn't drink until I was almost 23.” Tyler paused for a second and processed that Carson called him young. “Wait I'm not that young you're only like three and a half years older than me!”

“No way, you’re at least ten years younger than me.”

“I'm 23 not 16,” Tyler pouted.

“That’s not what I meant,” Carson clarified, “You’re 23 and I’m mentally, physically, and spiritually 34 if not 50.”

“Old man,” He said with a smirk. Tyler was probably a little immature because of the years he missed in a coma after a plane crash but he didn't want to admit that because he didn't want Carson to be right. “You do seem to have a lot of grey hairs ya know.” He said

“Take that back.”

“I’m just kidding. You don't have grey hair.” Tyler could hardly speak for himself; small chunks of his hair were still grey from going overboard on his powers last November that he neglected to dye brown again. He was hoping Carson wouldn't notice since his hair was up in a bun but a small chunk was pretty clear from his bangs.

“What about that?” Carson asked, gesturing towards Tylers bangs.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Tyler said brushing at his bangs that were parted to the side.

Daniel laughed at the two of them while he worked around them. Tyler walked around some more, still fumbling with his bangs. He got lost in the bookshelves of old and newer books. He picked up books and pulled down the books he couldn't reach, levitating them with sheer will. He wasn't super aware of how people treated stuff like that in New York, good thing nobody saw him. He picked up a little black notebook full of notes and stuff it that was sitting on a table by one of the bookshelves “Hey this one is magic too right?” Carson walked over looking over Tylers shoulder. “I'm not sure it's real” Tyler said, “It doesn't feel tingly like the other ones.”

Carson stared at the book and smirked “That's Daniels ya twat,” he said mocking Tyler’s accent yet again as he grabbed the little book from Tyler's hand and stuffed it in his pocket and walked back to a little table in the corner. Tyler continued gathering lots of different books he decided not to grab anymore as this much would probably cost 300 dollars.

He went to a table Carson was sitting at and threw down a mound of books from fantasy to sci-fi to magic and got to reading. He got lost in his reading, he had a very bad habit of zoning out anything and everything when he was into reading.

Carson just sat there and watched as Tyler practically molded his face to a book and darted his eyes around at a very fast pace. He was sitting there looking at his own books. A couple hours passed like that and when Carson eventually got bored he went to help Daniel with the shop. When he grew impatient, Carson tried to get Tyler’s attention.

“Tyler?” Carson said looking up at Tyler who gave no response “Hey, four eyes,” he said a bit louder. It took Carson flinging a pencil at Tyler to get his attention.”Asshat” Carson thought into Tyler's head.

“Huh? What?” Tyler asked.

“Is this what you call sightseeing? We’ve been here for two hours.”

“Really? I thought it was maybe thirty minutes.” Tyler said, getting up and stretching. He grabbed his mound of magic and other books and took it to the counter that Daniel was sitting at. There were probably thirty or more books in that pile.

“Do you plan on starting your own library?” Daniel asked, starting to scan Tyler's books He noticed that Tyler seemed a lot more lively than when they had met the first time. He was probably drained and stressed out the whole time then but now, even the dark circles under his eyes had almost completely faded. This was how Tyler really was, a good kid. While he was 23, he acted a lot younger. Another thing he hadn't noticed before.

Tyler grabbed all of his bags of books and called over to Carson so he could get help bringing them to his car. He had to bring the books to the counter in several trips and he didn't want to take several trips to the car in 90 degree weather. "Ya coming with me or am I leaving you here? Tyler asked.

"I guess I'll go with you. I have nothing better to do." Carson said, tossing a bag of books into the back seat of Tyler’s little red car which had a lot of stuff in it like suitcases and backpacks. He shut the door and he got into the passenger side door.

"Do you feel like getting food? Have you eaten today? I haven't.” Tyler said, starting the car.

"I could go for some pizza I guess,'' Carson said as Tyler pulled out onto the road. As they were driving, a car pulled out of nowhere and Tyler had to slam on the brakes.

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING YOU JACKASS!” Tyler screamed. It startled Carson more than the car because of how loud his voice was. He sounded like a really angry european. A street lamp simultaneously bursted above them sending sparks onto Tyler's car.

Ah, not again. Tyler said swinging his head into the headrest of his seat.

“What? That car almost hitting us?”

“Yes, but no. I blew a street lamp again.” he said.

“You blew that? Do you have any control at all?”

“Apparently not.”

“You’ve had magic for a while now, right? You should have more control than that.” Carson said that thinking Tyler had had his power for at least ten years or so.

“Two years, two and a half if you want to be precise.” Tyler said, pulling into the parking lot of a pizza place and sat in the car for a minute. “After the plane crash I died several times before going into a coma, I didn't wake up with them but shortly after I got out of the hospital I managed to accidentally blow out the tv in my bedroom as well as other things like an old nebulizer and an entire bookshelf had all my books fly off of it when I wanted to get a book but didn't have the energy to go grab it. I saw a ghost for the first time, it was Milo just sitting there on my bed like he owned the place.”

“So the first ghost you ever saw was a cat?” Carson asked.

“Weird right? I didn't think he was a ghost at first.” The more tyler thought of it the more he realized he might have seen a lot of ghosts back at the hospital but might not have noticed that they were.

“Well it’s probably less startling than a human ghost. Anyways, two years isn’t very long. Where did you get so much raw power?”

“I don't know where it came from to be honest, I kinda just woke up with it one day out of the blue.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know how this shit works either,” Carson shrugged.

“Seems pretty accurate, let's go in and get pizza, we can find somewhere to eat it after.”

Tyler and Carson walked into the pizza place. Carson had been there a few times so he was familiar with the menu. After about ten minutes they walked out with a pizza, half cheese, half Pepperoni and olives.

Though they were past the hottest part of the day, the heat didn’t seem to be letting up at all. The sidewalks were still packed with people so Carson suggested they get off the main road and head over to the park where there would be some shade. Despite living so close to the park Carson had only wandered in there a couple times. He wondered why it took Tyler coming to visit to get him out of the apartment. They walked around for a bit, Tyler holding the pizza box. They found a bench to sit at so they could eat.

“I didn't know places like this had little ponds.” Tyler said, looking to an empty part of the park where there was nothing but grass. Carson wasn't sure what Tyler was talking about or what he was looking at because to him nothing was there.

“This park is kind of known for its ponds and bridges but that patch of grass isn’t one of them, dude, what are you looking at?”

“What? Are you blind it's right in front of us.” He said resting his head on his hand and staring at seemingly nothing.

Carson glanced at Tyler skeptically and out of curiosity he decided to look with his magical senses. What he saw didn’t look like a pond but there was an odd concentration of magic there. Carson stood up to get a better look, “Oh shit, you’re right.”

A couple walking by gave them weird looks and walked a little faster to get away from them.

“Wanna see it?” Tyler asked Carson, perking his head up. Carson might not be able to see like him so he thought he might want to try.

“I don’t know what there is to see but I guess so.”

“Okay you need to look directly in my eyes, I'm going to look like I passed out but it's fine.”

“Uhh is this going to hurt?” Carson asked.

“No if it didn't hurt Jared you'll be fine, the worst that could happen is somebody's nose bleeds a little bit.”

Grimacing slightly, Carson agreed and looked into Tyler’s purple eyes. It took a second but Carson felt a spark of Tyler's magic before his eyes rolled back and he fell off the seat onto the grass, his blue rectangle framed glasses flying off his face. Carson just sat there for a minute blinking a few times before catching something in the corner of his eye. There was a small pond right in front of where they were sitting just like Tyler said. The water was clear and sparkly, it even had fish and a few frogs in it. There was suddenly a couple sitting on a bench that wasn't there before. It felt strange, almost like a dream. Carson didn’t have full control of his mind as he watched the couple with fascination. It was almost like seeing back in time. They looked so happy. Do all souls look like this to Tyler? He wondered. Carson wanted to get closer but he felt the connection wavering and the next time he blinked his eyes, they were gone. He had the distinct feeling of waking up, coming back to reality. He hadn’t even noticed that Tyler was on the ground next to him, seemingly unconscious.

Tyler started to stir, and opened his eyes, he laid there for a second then stood up brushing himself off and putting his glasses back on. “Did it work? Did ya see?” he asked.

To his surprise, Carson was frowning. He seemed sad. “So… this is what you see. They looked just like people.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said, noticing the look on carsons face. “What's wrong did it not work that well?”

“We can’t leave them there.” He said suddenly. “Dead souls aren’t supposed to stay in the living world, it’s not right.”

“Do you have to take them now?” Tyler asked, staring at the bench where the couple were. Carson could no longer see them as people. Instead they appeared as plain little souls that were very faint to his eyes.

“Do you have a better idea?” Carson asked him seriously. He knew that Tyler saw spirits but he never questioned how he uses that power.

“I'll go talk to them, if they have to move on better give them a heads up right?” Tyler said getting off the bench and walking around the empty patch of grass where the pond was. Carson stayed a few steps behind him. Tyler stood there and introduced himself like it was all normal and explained who they were and what they were doing. It looked like he was talking and responding to thin air.

Carson waited for Tyler to give him the go ahead then he approached them. He had to really squint with his magical vision to even know where they were. He’d seen recently deceased souls before but the couple’s were especially dim as if they had been there for a long time. Closing his eyes, he held out his hand and grabbed onto the souls. Before he could really do anything Tyler nudged his arm “At least tell them your name ya know, I would wanna know who's taking me to the afterlife.”

Carson put his other hand over his outstretched palm as if that would somehow keep them from hearing him, “And tell them what? Hi I’m Carson Hall and I’m the grim reaper here to send you to death. Have a nice trip?”

“Yes, straight to the point. These people already know they're dead.”

Carson rolled his eyes but did it anyway feeling incredibly stupid for talking to thin air, “Whatever. I’m Carson and it’s my job to send lost souls like yours to the afterlife.” Carson waited for a second while Tyler looked like he was listening to what they were saying.

“They figured this would happen.” Tyler said as he shrugged his shoulders.

Without wasting any more time, Carson knelt down and put his hand on the ground. Tyler could see the smoky shadow under his hand for a split second before it was over and they were gone. “Well this isn’t how I planned on spending my night.”

“Eh, adventure is fun when you're not dying ri-” Tyler screamed and it sent Carson into a fight or flight response. He looked around then back at their table “The pizza!” Tyler screeched. It was getting eaten by pigeons as Tyler rushed over there like he was the one in danger, not the pizza and shooed them away. He regretted running immediately as it made him out of breath. It was too late, the pizza was half gone.

Carson took his sweet time walking back to the bench, “Give it up man. It belongs to the birds now.”

Tyler sat there and pouted and took a few puffs of his inhaler before complaining. “I spent 15 bucks on that ya know,” he whined.

“Who cares? We’ll get more on the way back.”

“I can't spend all my money on just pizza. I have about two thousand I can spend on this trip, most of that was for the hotel I planned.

“Why don’t you just use your powers to make money?” Carson asked him seriously, “Besides, you had $300 to spend on books this morning. Now you’re telling me you’re too broke to buy some pizza?”

“Good point, on both parts.” Tyler said grabbing the pizza box and shoving it into a nearby trash can. “What do you do to make money? You work at the station right? With Morris.”

“I’m a magical consultant, I don’t get paid shit for that. I make most of my money by doing side jobs.”

“What kind of jobs?” Tyler asked as he and Carson started walking back to the car.

“It’s pretty simple. I just find a rich person with an incurable disease and ask them how much their life is worth to them.” Carson didn’t even try to sugarcoat it.

“Sounds hard, wish I had thought of that. I would have enough money to have you cure my asthma ya know,” Tyler said laughing that turned into a slight cough.

“Well it’s not like your asthma will kill you, right? I mostly help people with terminal illnesses.”

“It could if it got real bad, but it has never gotten to me not breathing at all ya know, i've been taken in to the ER though, the staff knows my name how funny is that.”

“Sounds like a real pain to live with.” Carson commented as they got back into Tyler’s car. “They know my name too but not a good way.”

“How's that?” Tyler said starting up the car.

“You haven’t noticed? People hate magicians. At least they do here. The gangs really don’t help with our public image.”

“How bad is that hatred here? It's not so bad in my hometown. Since we are small, there isn't a whole ton of crime there up until recently.”

“I grew up in a small town,” Carson said bitterly. “Didn’t stop anyone from hating me that’s for sure.”

“Go ahead and talk about it, i'm the only one here ya know”

“Eh what’s the point. Everyone hated me and tried to kill me a couple times, end of story.” He said with a sigh.

“KIll you?! I-its okay i won't pry if you don’t wanna talk about it then don't if it makes you on edge.”

Tyler seemed like the one on edge but Carson took his offer, no reason to bring up the past now. “What about you?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“How do people treat me?

“Yeah.”

“I'm not sure, I know Ramin was sent to keep me from killing anyone but other than that, people don't really care unless you hurt somebody.”

“What about highschool?” Carson asked for a split second forgetting that Tyler didn't have any kind of power in highschool.

“I didn't have any kind of power then, You wouldn't believe if I told you I was the athletic kid who always got into fights, I got along with people but I only had like two real friends.”

“Yeah, I'm not sure I believe that.” Carson said, letting out a small chuckle.

“It's true I have pictures of me on the soccer team in 10th grade. Winter was really hard to do sports since it was so cold so I stuck with just bowling.” Tyler paused and thought for a moment, “I've been suspended several times too, I got in a fight with this guy and he tried to take Jared’s backpack and my inalor so I couldn't fight back. I sucker punched that son of a bitch and got our stuff back. You wouldn't believe how much trouble I was in.”

“For defending yourselves?”

“No, I mouthed off to the teachers. Since the guy threw the first punch My mom wasn't too mad about that. I had to sit in a chair with soap in my mouth at home until I went to write an apology letter and personally apologize for mouthing off.”

“What did you say?” Carson asked. He never would have guessed Tyler was like that as a kid so his curiosity got the better of him.

Tyler took a breath and smiled. “You guys are a bunch of sorry bitches if you are defending the pathetic excuse for kids who can't fight without a handicap.”

Carson was surprised by how Tyler was almost completely contrasted with what he was like now. Carson can't really judge though after all he had killed his own classmate. He just couldn’t see Tyler being so aggressive, it seemed out of character for him. Carson just nodded awkwardly, not wanting to comment either way.

Carson didn't say anything but Tyler couldn't help but laugh. He started laughing a lot which triggered a short coughing fit that had him setting his hand on his chest.

“You’ve been coughing like that alot, I'm not going to have to heal you again right?” Carson didn't want to use his magic unless he really had to. He has had to heal Tyler’s asthma once before it took a lot out of him but this time Tyler had an inhaler so it should be fine.

“No, I've been outside a lot today, it's normal.” Tyler said, clearing his throat. He saw a music store while driving. Maybe they had a keyboard there that he could get really cheap. “Hey do you mind if we pull into this music store real quick? I wanna take a look around ya know.”

“Do whatever you want,” Carson said casually though Tyler noticed out the corner of his eye he seemed to be squirming a bit.

“I won't be in long I promise, are you gonna wait here or come in with me?”

“I’ll come, no point waiting in the car.”

“Okay,” Tyler said, pulling into the music store parking lot and getting out of the car. “I still have to buy you guys new cups too I must have broken like 12 of them”

Tyler and Carson walked into the music store. It smelled nice, like an old wooden house. “Welcome,” the cashier said as a little bell chimed from the two walking in the door. Tyler went directly to the area where the keyboards were. “Do you have any of these used, maybe under 70- dollars?” The cashier brought him a keyboard that had a bit of dust on it. The keys were worn a little bit but it still worked.

Tyler walked out of that store with a big grin on his face. They started driving back to Carson’s apartment, picking up cups and more pizza on the way. They arrived, Tyler bringing up a few magical books and his nebulizer in a backpack while carrying the keyboard. Carson had the pizza. They walked into the apartment and they both flopped on couches opposite of eachother. They felt like they did a lot that day so they both ended up falling asleep for about two hours.

#whump #whump blog #magic whump #whumpee #crossover #carson series

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years ago

Note

YASSSSSSS! Romeo and Juliet is my all-time favorite!

Okay this took all day, so all you guys better love this! This is actually the first part, I will submit the other half in about an hour or two. It really was so massive it needed to be broken into more than one segment. So, after FIVE HOURS of writing, I present for your viewing pleasure

THE TRAGEDY OF MARKO [1/2]

Marko×Fem!Reader

Content Warning! Violence, Gore, Sexual Themes, Offensive Language! Reader's Discretion is Advised!

The idea of being with a human never really sat well with Marko. He wasn't exactly popular with the ladies when he was alive, and now they all just seemed intrigued by his night time allure. Fake the lot of it. Half of them were just going to be a snack anyways, there was no point in getting attached.

At least until Star made a friend.

Cruising around on the boardwalk was second nature, to the point that he knew the place like the back of his hand. With his hands stuffed in his pockets he trotted behind his friend Paul who was determined to get a good spot. These Santa Carla concerts were okay, but finally the big guns rolled in. For one night only the baddest bastards in Hollywood were coming down to tear it up with the citizens of this manky beach town- Mötley motherfuckin' Crüe! Anyone in their way quickly moved, he was not about to miss it.

Honestly the notion was pretty cool, Marko understood Paul's over exuberant glee. Of course it started off with the greatest bang he's ever seen. Fireworks, pyrotechnics, his buddy was just geeking out to the extreme. Halfway through Girls, Girls, Girls he spotted a mass of h/c just swinging through the crowd. Every step was so nonchalantly elegant, which was a rare description when it came to a rock concert. But his eyes just zeroed in on them. No, her. She was giggling with Star of all people, he hadn't even realized the little half-er was there with them. He bit at his thumb, pushing away the tumbles of blonde that fell into his face. A solid THUMP to his shoulder alerted him to reality as Paul cheered as loud as he could.

"THANK YOU SANTA CARLA! AND GOOD NIGHT!"

Had it already been two hours? Marko rapidly shook his head, still floating with each step when Star approached them. Both girls were giggling, panting messes. Y/N. That's what you introduced yourself as.

Paul was praising you for your most excellent head banging skills. When you turned to him he thought his heart might kick up again.

"Awesome to meet you, gorgeous," he teased with a curling grin.

Now it was your turn to be flustered. If this was what all California boys were like you could definitely get used to this. Looking for any excuse to talk to him further you blurted out a suggestion to grab something to eat. Star passed, all that heavy grease was too much for her but she wouldn't mind just following along. Marko on the other hand chimed in that it wasn't too much for them.

Paul watched you two banter back and forth the whole way across the beach and up the steps onto the boardwalk itself. With a casual grin he slumped his arm over Star's shoulder, whispering something low in her ear.

"Ah, shit you know what? I totally forget we promised Laddie we'd take him on the ferris wheel," he exclaimed, Marko cocking an eyebrow. Since when? Paul wasn't for all those slow rides. He knew his best friend. The guy was an adrenaline junkie, usually that boring stuff was Dwayne or Star's liking.

"Oh, um we could come with if you want," you suggested, only to have Star wave you off.

"No, no don't worry about it, Y/N. You two have fun. We'll catch up later."

Before you could get another word in they bolted, leaving you alone with Marko.

"Still hungry," he asked, raising a brow. "Or do you gotta go too?"

"Oh! No, I could still eat." Boy, sheepish wasn't a word you'd use to describe yourself. But something about the way he watched you, it make you feel so nervous. "So uh, Marko right? Have you always lived in Santa Carla?"

"Well, I've been here a while," he casually responded. Talking about his past before turningwas usually a touchy subject. That stuff was best left behind. He wasn't Mark anymore, that guy died long ago. "I guess you could say I've been all over. I used to live in England for a while before I came to America."

"No way, you're so lucky!" You looked down to see you had grabbed his jacket in your excitement, quickly letting go. Whew. Was it getting hot out here or what? "S-sorry, I didn't mean to, um, ya know..."

His snicker was so cute, lightly bumping your arm with his own. "Don't even trip. We all get excited, yeah?" Neon lights made his hair shift colors as you walked through the crowds, stopping at a snack shop that stood out like a sore thumb. It was impossible to miss the big, flashing red sign reading:

"CHARLIE'S BOARDWALK EMPORIUM"

Photos decorated the base of the blue walls with images of cotton candy, caramel apples, nachos and snow cones over an explosion of popcorn. So many options. On your tip toes you waited in line with him reading each of the prices. Deep fried cola? Chocolate dipped bacon sticks? You scrunched up your nose, settling for a basket of chili cheese curly fries and a soda.

"Hey put your money away, babes," Marko interjected. "Charlie doesn't charge for cute ones, right bud?"

He must've been referring to the heavyset Armenian man in a 'kiss the cook' apron, who by the way had no hair net covering the mop top smushed beneath a red baseball cap. All he did was slowly nod, stiffly scooting your order onto the counter. You only ordered a medium, this was massive. "Yes, of course. It's on the house lil' lady," he insisted in a thick accent. It must've been hot in there, he sounded bizarrely out of it.

"You sure have a way with people," you commented, now wedged on the boardwalk steps leading off onto the sand, splitting the gooey mess with your newfound friend.

"Nah, you heard him. Cute girls don't pay," he teased. That rosy tiny hadn't left your cheeks since he'd been with you. Hours passed, sharing stories and finding you two had so many common interests. Marko hadn't genuinely laughed like this in a while, and when it became late in the night he offered you a second chance to hang out. Since then you came visiting every night.

The moment you showed up he felt a breath of air. It didn't take Marko long to introduce you to the boys. The big one with a lack of shirt was Dwayne, you still remembered Paul and Star from that night on the beach. Then there was David. You weren't so sure he liked you. The most he gave you was a disinterested wave, but Marko insisted he was always like that. Eventually he'd have to leave around 10 pm, apologizing profusely.

"Wish I could stay baby, but we got some ridin' to do. Same time tomorrow," he asked, holding your hands in his.

"Y-yeah of course. Oh! Wait wait hold on," you insisted, quickly digging through your pockets. Where was it? Ah! "Here, I got you this."

Nestled in the palm of your hand was a silver scorpion etched on a black coin dangling off a chain. "I remember you said you wanted to get a new earring a few days ago"

"Babe thats awesome!" His gloved fingers plucked the piece, swapping his little skull out for it before modeling it in front of you. "Think you can hold onto mine for a while? I bet it'd look cute on you."

It wasn't hard to sense David growing impatient with you delaying their leave. Maybe because he told you two to hurry up. Right. "Gotta ride, baby." Before he left Marko stole a fast kiss from your cheek, riding away in a flash leaving you frozen. Slowly you opened your palm. The little black carved skull rolled over, looking right at you. Steeling your resolve you took it right by the silver hook and pushed it against your earlobe. The skin resisted, a sharp burn pressing harder until it popped into place. A little blood was fine, you'd be healed by morning. But now there was a whole lot of nothin' to do. Star was at their little hideout, you'd only really seen it once before and didn't have the stones to go there without the boys' permission. Tonight you saw that brown haired guy with them again. Some new guy who just came to Santa Carla named… Oh god what was it? Mitchell? Manny? Milo? Something "Mi"... mmm...mmm-M-Michael! Yes, that's who it was! He was so much more intense and jumpy that the others, but you always got the impression he was a bit... er, lost. He always either had this confused or angry look on his face.

With nothing better to do, you spent the night aimlessly wandering through the coastal shorelines, your feet sweeping over cold, damp sand as you followed hills. You couldn't stop thinking about the jumpy newbie who seemed particularly aggressive. He always gave David dirty looks, but Marko wouldn't tell her who he was.

"Just a guy Star met, babes. Don't worry too much about him, he's just gotta mellow out before he joins us."

You'd walked so far you hadn't even realized there were people up ahead blasting Aerosmith on their boombox, jumping around a crude bonfire like a pack of wild men.

Ugh, Surf Nazis. Pain in the ass California boneheads who practically dominated the waves and the boardwalk. You were ready to turn the other way when a stream of light flew by, one after the other. Five each. Hey, you knew those motorcycles! Ducking down by the dunes you watched Marko swing his leg over the seat, dashing up to a looming tree overlooking the bonfire mosh pit with Paul, Dwayne and David. Michael was there too? You wiggled lower, cautiously staying out of sight just close enough to hear them over the music.

"Initiations over, Michael," David hissed with glee. "Time to join the club!"

Club? Like a biker club or something? Squinting at the tree you nearly feel backward when the image cleared beneath the harsh orange glow. Their ey-e-eyes! They-they were blood red- white even! The way they snickered and laughed sent a blood curdling chill down your back. Marko… that sweet, alluring smile was now twisted into a hideous smirk boasting sharp, pointed teeth mocking the brunette beneath him who shared a similar look of horror. In a flash they fle- THEY FLEW!

Rapidly you ducked down, clutching at your heart. It was beating so fast you thought your ribs were going to break. And then the screams.. those awful, sickening screams! You had to cover your mouth not to cry out in horror as David lodged his teeth into a man's skull. Dwayne howled with delight, tearing another guy in half. They were painted red. Every where, every thing, red.

You almost missed Marko as he snapped their neck, peeling back scalp with ease to devour the wrinkled flesh beneath their skull. Then you couldn't see anymore, it was all tears. They showed no regret, no mercy. Instead they reveled in their kills, throwing the last of the limbs into a flaming inferno like some sort of hellish bonfire.

Bile flooded your esophagus, tearing your hand away to empty your stomach onto the sands beneath you. You nearly cried out, startled when David spoke again to Michael.

"Now you know what we are… and now you know what you are."

What they were?

"You'll never grow old. And you'll never die. But you must feed."

David's voice cut the air like a knife. Your whole body was frigid. For a moment it almost felt like he was speaking to you. Then you remembered the earring still wedged in place, your fingers clawing it out in a frenzy. Dammit! It ripped again a thin stream of blood dripping onto your neck as you threw it on the sand.

Meanwhile Marko watched that coward Michael bolt off screaming. What a wuss. So a few people had to die, not a bad price for eternal youth, dude. He could only laugh at this point, smearing the blood off his mouth. That was a good meal…

"Hey did we miss one," he asked, sniffing the air. There was always a distinct taste and scent between fresh, and old blood. By now whatever was left was either staining them, the ground, or being burnt. He gnawed on a finger bone, looking Paul's way. Might as well hang for a while, they had to make sure the pieces were nice and burnt to a crisp.

"Nah man, they're all barbecue. I getcha though." Yeah he smelled it too. Those assholes were dead shit, fresh blood shouldn't still be in the air. It was undeniable, and soon all of them could smell it

"Its still nearby."

Oh god, they smelled you! Stumbling over sand, you tripped over your own feet and spiraled down to the base of the dunes. Marko was the first to step out. He almost missed the bloody scent, most of it was moving away. The sands still shuddered to adjust to the missing weight, a few foot prints pushed away by sand and wind. But then a tiny… something tapped his boot. Kneeling down, still caked with a familiar scent of fresh blood...it was his earring? Now he could smell it more clearly. Your scent was all over these sands. His heart dropped, realizing why this was on the ground. "Ah shit," he groaned, clasping it tightly in his hand.

×××××

The front door of your home swung as you tore it open. Locks fumbled shut and you immediately made a mad dash for your room. Your mom and dad had gone to the next town over, so it was just you and your dog D/N tonight. Absolutely the worst possible scenario to be in when you discover your boyfriend of the past few months was a murderous psychopath who ate people!

Your heart beat echoed throughout the whole room, you thought you might even faint. Pacing back and forth you tried wiping your hands on your skirt like a madman. It just wouldn't come off! All you could see was red. Just red everywhere. Bloody splattered stained your eyes in shades of crimson. On your hands, your clothes, on the walls, in the air, on… Marko...

Covering your mouth did little to stifle the whimpering, sharp sobs that made your lungs spasm. Marko. Oh Marko.

You'd never seen such cruel delight plastered over his sweet face. Beautiful blonde locks were caked in fresh blood, he was even laughing the whole time. He enjoyed it. Revelled even, in the carnage.

Stumbling over discarded clothes you shut off your lamp, rapidly kicking them away. Naked, trembling you ran into your bathroom. You had to wash it off! It felt like an hour had gone by in the blink of an eye. All you could do was sob under the streams of hot water. Knees to your chest, clutching them close. Maybe if you just stayed there you wouldn't have to face the reality of what you saw.

You were afraid to blink. Every time you did, there his eyes were. Those cold, unyielding white eyes that glowed perfectly in the dark. You stayed planted until the water finally ran frigid. Once your fingers started trembling and your lips went blue you had no other choice but to get out.

Without another word you threw on the nearest clean shirt, a pair of pajama shorts and collapsed onto your bed. Everything you thought he was, was now up in the air. Now you questioned every motive, every kind gesture. That kiss tonight.. He could have been luring you. Maybe he was planning on killing you too. It was enough to bring all the tears back, sobbing into your pillow in the dark until sleep cradled your miserable form.

The next time you opened your eyes, D/N was in a frenzy. Barking over and over. Still groggy you lazily snatched your alarm clock. 2:15 am?? Seriously, D/N? Ugh, bad dog. Probably saw a squirrel or something.

"Y/N!"

Immediately you were snapped wide awake. The fog of slumber was blown away in an instant. For a solid minute you remained utterly still. You didn't even dare to breathe.

It was clear, firm, just outside. Every tick on your clock echoed softly, you almost thought you misheard.

"Y/N please, I can hear your heart. I know you're up there!"

Oh god. Holy hell he found you. Running to your window you felt your heart in your ears. It was so loud, you slowly inched your fingers towards the closed curtains. This was almost out of body. You could feel every step you made. Marko's presence grew stronger as you near the window. Clenching the dusty fabric, you tempted yourself to peek every so slightly. Then you screamed bloody murder. Face to face, a pair of bright blue eyes cut through the night looking right at you.

HE. WAS ON. THE ROOF!

Immediately you shut the curtains! Wait! The lock! Pushing them open you immediately twisted it shut just before he could pry it up.

"Babe please, I can explain!"

"Explain nothing, I am not listening to anything you have to say," you screamed. When he began to move you ran to the other window and locked it as well. He banged his forehead against the glass, still trying to wrench it up. Damn these old houses! The frame had a silver lining! Immediately he tore his fingers away, pressing against the glass. "Y/N, baby girl, come on please let me in!"

It was so hard to look away. "No! I'm not even gonna look at you," you insisted, shutting the blinds. Cute girls eat free? Ha! He probably hypnotized the cashier! Oh god. When he spoke this time you plugged your ears. "I'm not listening! MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB, LITTLE LAMB!"

A sharp huff of air pushed out of Marko's nostrils. This was ridiculous! "You are being such a brat! Just let me in, dammit!"

Nope. More stupid singing. Fine. If you were gonna be stubborn, so was he.

Flying downward he searched for any easy way in. The front door was locked, the upstairs bathroom, the master bedroom, the back yard do- not this one. Slowly the golden knob twisted, rattled, then squeaked open.

Oh boy, now there was a dog!

"Fuck me," Marko groaned, hands in the air with utter exasperation. Of course you had a dog! Why not! Got any holy water too? The big ball of fluff continued to snarl at him. Rolling his eyes, Marko flared his fangs which promptly silenced the snarling muty. "I don't have time for you!"

THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD.

Rapid steps dashed down the stairs where Y/N then skidded to a halt.

You had heard D/N wildly barking, your only plan was to drag him upstairs with you where it was safe. However, once you stepped in the room you could see him standing there in the dark, a silhouette circled by a thin layer of moonlight. His eyes were glowing bright red.

You felt like a deer in headlights. You couldn't budge an inch. A complete Mexican standoff. Both of you were staring at each other.

Marko watched you for any movement, any at all. Then you flinched. "Y/N," he said as he slowly reached out- and you ran. "Wait!"

You scrambled back up the stairs towards your room, almost looking back. Shit he was fast! You screamed the whole way while he begged, nay, pleaded with you to just hear him out.

"You killed them! I saw you," you shouted, lunging for your door. It was just a second too slow as you spun between the frame and into your room. A solid hit from the other side nearly knocked you back as Marko crashed into it, trying to force it open. You were barely keeping in place- except you were. Every time he rammed the door your feet were being pushed back.

"I know! I didn't mean for you to find out this way! Babygirl, you gotta believe me I would never hurt you," he insisted. With one firm push he swung the door wide open, sending to flying onto the floor. Already you were jumping over your bed to reach the bathroom, trying to get behind the door where you could lock him out. "Stop!"

With everything he had he bolted forward and finally got a grip on your waist just before you could get through the threshold. He completely lifted you off the floor! You flailing and kicking did nothing except frustrate him, his grip tightening to where you were struggling to breath. "Let me go! Stop it, Marko, you put me down right now! Put me down, put me down!"

"Enough!" Slamming you down on your bed, Marko quickly grabbed you by your wrists and held them above your head, a knee over your legs to keep you from thrashing any further. "Y/N stop it! I'm not gonna hurt you, you know this! You know me!"

"I know you lied to me," you cried, still trying to look away, writhing and twisting beneath him. You weren't gonna be so easily tricked this time. "How can I trust you?! Everything you told me-"

"I never said I was human," he insisted. "Baby look at me. Look at me!" When you wouldn't he kept your wrists tightly gripped beneath his hand and forced you head to turn his way. "Y/n… please, just look."

This time he wasn't angry. Just hurt. The way he tenderly whispered your name made you want to cry, and just ever slightly you peeked open your eyes. His eyes were… watery. You looked into them, the tints of red faded back into the shimmering sky you treasured just hours prior. "Did… did even like me? W-was I just another me-meal to you," you choked out between hiccups.

"No. No, no, baby," he spoke softly, calloused fingertips pushing away your years. "Babygirl. Please, listen to me. I.. would never, ever, hurt you."

This time it stuck, you could see the sincerity in his eyes. There was a slow diffuse, and now Marko just sat atop you until he was absolutely sure you wouldn't run.

Slowly you sat up, looking at him. It got awkward by this point. But you had to know.

"Marko… what are you," you asked softly. It sounded harsh, but it was impossible to avoid.

"I guess the easiest thing to call it would be vampire," he sighed, looking down at his hands.

"So, I guess you're not 17?"

"Well I mean, not anymore. I was, but I haven't been for… a while."

Your brow furrowed, looking over at him. He wasn't upset anymore. Just calm. "How long is a while?"

Marko seemed physically uncomfortable discussing this. Whatever he had left behind when he turned was something he wanted gone. Slowly you reached over, taking his hand into your own.

"Y/N, listen. I-"

"You swear you aren't going to hurt me," you asked, looking at him. Marko only gave you a soft smile and leaned forward. You didn't have time to react. Only feeling the tender press of his lips on yours.

"I'd rather die."

You cupped his cheek, searching his expression for any signs of lying. Not a word. Not a single piece was a lie. You tasted him again. Salt, iron, soft. There were still little traces of blood that tainted his lips. Kisses deepened into dizzying passion. Your shirt was pulled away.

His jacket fell to the floor with a solid thump. You could feel his fingers prying away the shorts wrapped on your waist. He really was dead. You expected him to be warm, but instead it was cold; almost icy. It sent chills over your flesh.

"You don't have to..," Marko whispered. This was a vulnerable moment. He'd revealed something completely new and frightening.

"I want to," you whimpered. It certainly hurt. All those movies made it look so simple. It pushed in, your whole body tightening until your toes curled. Marko was so tender. To him you were made of glass, he couldn't lose control even for a moment. Wrapping you in his arms he took you away, passing hours away with the most luscious touches he could spare.

Laying amongst disheveled sheets and bedding he held you tightly to him, glancing over at the clock. 4:57am.

Sunrise was in an hour. There's no way he could stay. A closet wasn't exactly light-proof, and the boys might come looking for him. "I have to go.."

The words sunk in your heart. "I know.."

Gently he tilted up your chin, stealing away one last kiss. "Come to the hotel this afternoon. I promise as soon as I wake up I'll tell you everything, okay?"

It was a hard bargain. There was not much else you could do. With one last deep kiss you watched him dive out your window, vanishing into the night. You looked down at your dresser, the earring you discarded now cleanly placed atop it. You'd be sure to wear it this afternoon

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years ago

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Brains or Muscles

a/n: this will be the first of my descendants series for skz! comment if you want a part 2 or which boy you want next!! idk why i did this in third person

Stray Kids as Descendants

WARNINGS: n/a........it is so weird to type that for me

Summary: Jeongin has always been quite quiet. He was one of the Descendants who tended to slip into the background. His parents weren't considered royalty in Auradon and he mostly kept to himself besides occasionally talking to Cinderella's son, Bangchan. He most certainly didn't expect the daughter of Hercules to talk to him one day.

Genre: descendants!au, nerd&jock!au, romance, fluff

Jeongin took after his mother, Kida in every aspect except for the fact that Jeongin was not brave. He was not strong, and he certainly was not a leader. While his appearance was his mother's, his personality was much like his father, Milo's. His head was almost always buried in a book, and punctuality was certainly not his specialty.

Such as now.

The white haired boy sprinted into Auradon prep, papers flying behind him. Jeongin had spent most of the previous night entranced in some maps his father had sent him. He didn't mean to oversleep, he had set an alarm.........he was pretty sure he set an alarm.

"Second warning, Jeongin!" Fairy Godmother yelled as a flash of white and blue raced passed her. Just as the bell tolled across the campus, Jeongin burst into his History of Auradon class. The teacher sighed and motioned for him to sit down and with a bright red blush on his ears and cheeks, he did.

Nervously he looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching him, laughing at him. Everyone seemed to turn back to the lecture except for one pair of eyes. A small smirk perched on the girl's lips and she had a sort of twinkle in her eye. Quickly he looked away before his cheeks turned a deeper red.

He had often seen her with Chan, Cinderella's son. Chan needed tutoring sometimes and Jeongin was always happy to help after Chan's practice had ended. He wasn't sure of their relationship, but he knew that the girl, Y/n was one of the only two girls in the history of Auradon to be put on the Tourney team. It was a brutal sport, one that only a daughter of Hercules would be thrilled to play. And.....some part of him wanted to be apart of it too.

Jeongin didn't have many friends. He wasn't part of any club. He mostly kept to himself, his studies, and his maps. But there was this deep desire to be part of that team. At first he thought maybe he just wanted to have some more friends. But the more he watched the practices and watched the team, he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

She was so strong and powerful. He honestly thought it made her more beautiful. He had heard some of the other girls in school shame Y/n for even trying out for the team.

Something about her fascinated him. Like she was a map with a secret for him to find. Jeongin's day continued as normal. At four o'clock he went to the field where he waited for Chan in the bleachers. Tourney practice was just ending and two figures started climbing the stairs toward Jeongin. His heart stopped when he saw Y/n coming up with Chan. She had her H/c pushed back and beads of sweat lay on her forehead making her skin have a shimmering effect in the sunlight.

"Jeongin! You didn't wait long did you?" Chan clapped him on the back with a smile. "No. Of course not. Not at all." His words stumbled out of his mouth as if they were tripping over themselves. "It was a great practice. You were fantastic, Y/n." She looked surprise at the mention of her name. In all honesty she did not think Jeongin would want to talk to her. Most boys that weren't on the team were too intimidated by her. "Oh....um thanks. Jeongin right? You're the one keeping this idiot on the team?"

He couldn't do much else but nod. "Do you like Tourney?" Jeongin mentally cursed himself for simply nodding again. His mother would be appalled at his actions.

"Why don't you try out then?"

"Jeongin? Play Tourney? Y/n have you seen him? No offense, Innie." Jeongin blushed at Chan's nickname for him. His shoes suddenly became very fascinating.

"Seriously. A few weeks of training and I bet I could get him in your position, Mr. Linebacker."

"I will gladly take that bet."

"The usual then?"

"Of course."

They shook hands and she smirked. Before Jeongin could react Y/n had take the books in his arms and shoved them at Chan. "I'll be taking your tutor then." She threw and arm over Jeongin's shoulder and guided the two of them down the steps.

"Wait whose going to tutor me?"

"Ask Seungmin!!"

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

That night Jeongin sat on his bed in sweats and a t-shirt looking over another of his dad's maps. Woojin his roommate had long gone to sleep and was snoring quietly on the other side of the room.

A knock broke the silence of the room. No one ever came this late, not even room checks. Usually Woojin's friends left about ten. Maybe one of them forgot something?

Jeongin winced as his bare feet padded against the freezing wood floor. Opening the door he found Y/n standing with a bright smile. "Do you have the wrong room number?" She couldn't possibly be looking for him.....could she?

"No. This is your room." Jeongin stood in confused silence for a seconds before again asking a question. "Is this about the history notes? Cause I can give you mine." As he turned back into the room she stopped him. "Do you not remember this afternoon?"

"You weren't joking?"

"Do you think I would casually bet The Suspicious Purchase?"

"What's The Suspicious Purchase?"

She shrugged and tugged on his wrist. "I'll tell you later. Come on! We have training to do." Y/n dragged Jeongin down the hall, a big smile plastered on her face.

The night air was cool and a warm spring wind blew across their faces. Jeongin quietly followed the girl he had admired from afar all the way to the Tourney field. The lights were on illuminating the bright green grass. Y/n turned to the boy with white hair when they had reached the edge of the field. She couldn't help but notice the sharp angles of the boy's face which were hidden by his large round spectacles.

"Take off the hoodie. Let's see what we have to work with." Nervously Jeongin removed the hoodie and stood in a tank top that he hoped he had remembered to wash. She eyed him up and down and made a circle around him as well.

He was nervous.

He had already spent more time and said more words to her than ever before. She was quite pleasantly surprised to find a little bit of muscle on the boy. She tried to ignore how cute he looked in something other than a button up. "Okay! You know the rules of Tourney, yes?" Jeongin nodded with a smile. "My mom loves Tourney." The smile didn't go unnoticed by Y/n at the mention of his mother.

"Whose your mother?"

"Kida."

"That explains the hair."

They both chuckled before returning to an awkward silence. Jeongin kept asking himself what his mother would say. She always knew exactly the right thing to say and never doubted her words or confidence.

However it was Y/n to break the silence. "I thought we could start with the track to get your endurance up." Jeongin nodded once again with a smile and followed her to the track that bordered the field. "You don't talk much do you?" A blush creeped up his cheeks as they started to jog. "Sorry...I'm just not used to having someone to talk to."

His words stuck with her. She recalled every time she had seen him. Each time he was alone. No friends. He was always by himself. "Well now you do. And you better not leave anything out." She chuckled and nudged his arm.

For the next hour she trained him for try outs. Jeongin struggled but he put on a brave face and did everything she asked with a smile. He knew that in the end this would be good for him. Not only would he be on the team, but he would be closer to Y/n.

She kept him talking the entire time. Jeongin couldn't quite understand what she found so interesting about him. Truly Y/n wanted to know the boy. He was always so quiet and shy. She hated seeing him left out of groups at school.

Every night for the next two weeks she came to his door. They would train together. She never left him behind and always made sure he was going at his own pace. And a funny thing happened. People started noticing Jeongin. Maybe it was this new glow he had about him. Or how he felt more confident in his body. Or maybe it was the fact that Y/n walked down the hall with him everyday without fail. Jeongin was happy. He had friends and people actually liked talking to him. He even got quite close to Y/n’s brother, Changbin.

The night before tryouts however, Y/n didn’t show up at his dorm. Woojin had gotten quite used to his roommate going out so he often stayed up until he left. “Maybe she thought you didn’t need anymore training?” Jeongin shook his head as he watched the door, shoulders slumped and heavy. She had confirmed the time with him earlier that day. The clock chimed one and Jeongin shot up from his bed and threw on his jacket. “Where are you going?”

“To find Y/n.”

The white haired boy wandered the dark halls looking for her room number. He knew she shared a room with Jasmine and Pocahontas's daughters, but what was the number again?

After walking up and down the corridor he finally found the right room. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door. He pushed his doubts away as the wooden door opened. But, it wasn’t the girl he wanted to see. Serina, Jasmine’s daughter opened the door with a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.

“Oh. Well isn’t this unexpected.”

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You’re here for the tramp?” His face twisted at the word. Was this normal for girls? He didn’t know. “One minute, blondie.” She left the frame, but her voice could be heard in the hall.

“Hey Tramp! One of your boyfriends is at the door. You’d better go see him.”

The laughter that followed stabbed at his heart and his smile started to fall from his face. It dropped completely when he saw Y/n’s form shuffle to the door, her head down in shame.

“Jeongin....now’s not a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jeongin had to stop her from closing the door on him. His mind tried to desperately find an excuse for her to come out with him. “My dad...he-uh....just sent me a new map. I was wondering if you wanted to check it out with me.” Jeongin’s eyes glanced behind her to the two girls who were doing nothing to hide their laughter.

“Please?” He asked once more.

Slowly she lifted her head and Jeongin tried to keep a straight face when he saw her tears.Y/n nodded slowly and closed the door without a sound. The two students walked in silence, not particularly going anywhere. Each thought they were following the other, but somehow both ended up at the center of the Tourney field again.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Her hair blew in the night wind as she faced away from Jeongin. "It's fine." Was all she said. But Jeongin knew. He had said those words many times before and it never meant what he said.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He was met with silence. Looking around he saw a pair of the focus mitts lying on the bench. He picked them up and began slipping his hands into the back slot. He tapped her shoulder gently, with a small smile.

"Come on! Give me a tap."

With a sad laugh she wiped her tears away. She gave the pad a little love tap and then looked at Jeongin.

"No. For real. You can do better than that."

She hit it a little harder this time. She watched Jeongin shake his head with a tiny smile. The next time she hit the pad hard enough for Jeongin's hand to recoil the tiniest bit.

"You are the daughter of Hercules. I know you can do better. Come on!"

Y/n stared at the gloves for a moment and the sadness came back into her eyes. With the swiftness only a demigod could have she struck the glove again and again. Her final punch sent Jeongin flying twenty feet back.

"OH MY GOD, JEONGIN! I AM SO SORRY!"

"It's fine!"

She ran over and kneeled next to the boy as he lay on the ground. Frantically she took off the gloves and checked every bone in his hands. Jeongin watched her intently as she held his hand with such care. Worriedly she helped him sit up and winced with him when she pushed to hard on his shoulder.

"Do you feel better?" The blonde boy said with a genuine smile that lit up the night. She nodded and looked into Jeongin's eyes. "Thank you." Without thinking about it she brought her lips to his cheek to place a chaste kiss on his skin. It was like an instinct from a past life that felt natural and safe in the moment.

She froze when she realized what she had done. Jeongin's eyes turned to saucers and every muscle in his body went rigid and he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in every part of him. He hoped to God it was too dark to see the bright red blush on his ears and cheeks.

"I am so sorry!"

"No-no it's....it's fine....I uh-"

There was an awkward silence and each of them were hoping the other didn't see the heat on their cheeks. Each were hoping the other would speak. Each were hoping the other would make the next move.

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Jeongin?"

"Umm.....could you maybe close your eyes for a second?"

"Umm....okay...."

Hesitantly she closed her eyes and Jeongin couldn't help but take in every single aspect of her face. The lines of her nose. The angle in her cheeks. The creases near her eyes. He did something he never though he could.

He kissed her.

Y/n wasn't surprised when she felt his lips on hers. She couldn't help but smile at how gentle and soft the kiss was. He flinched away slightly when her hand placed itself on his chest just below his shoulder. To his surprise she didn't pull away, instead she returned his kiss ten fold.

After a moment he pulled away and looked down at the field. Y/n couldn't stop the blush on her cheeks from the moment they had shared and she smiled even wider when she caught glimpse of the cute grin Jeongin was trying to hide.

"Can I walk you back to your room?"

"I would love that."

Like a gentleman Jeongin took her hand and helped her off the ground and he didn't let go of it as the two started walking back to the dorms.

The morning of try outs Jeongin ran joyfully to the Tourney field. His shy grin fell into place on his lips when he saw Y/n waving to him near Chan and her brother. A flush came over his ears when she greeted him with a happy kiss, her arms draping around his neck.

“Well....that’s new.”

Both boys looked at the pair in question and shock. Changbin eyed Jeongin up and down in a way only a brother could. “So, Jeongin, are you ready for try outs?” A smirk played on Chan’s lips. Before Jeongin could slip into old habits Y/n placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him. “Of course. He’s got this in the bag. You better watch out, Chan. He’s coming for your spot.”

Chan scoffed as the coach’s whistle blew calling all players to the field.With a smile Y/n sent Jeongin off and joined the two boys on the bleachers to watch. She watched with pride as Jeongin passed through each tier with ease. She could see the smile on his face as he played the scrimmage and cheered loudly anytime the white haired boy scored or completed a tackle.

Beside her Chan was dumbfounded at the sheer force and speed the skinny boy had. The second the coach blew the final whistle he knew he was screwed. Head in his hands Changbin and Y/n dragged him onto the field to hear the results. Jeongin found reassurance in Y/n’s words and the grip she held on his gloved hand.

“New team members are as follows.”

He held his breath.

“Byun Baekhyun; Goalie.”

Y/n rubbed her thumb over his hand.

“Yang Jeongin; Linebacker. Thank you all for trying out. See you at practice on Tuesday.”

Y/n screamed and turned to Jeongin with the brightest smile her brother had ever seen her wear. “You did it!” He was still shocked as he embraced her. The team came over and congratulated the new members with excitement. Chan’s face fell when Y/n turned to him with an impish grin.

“Chan, we should get going shouldn’t we? I forgot that I need to go shopping!”

Ten minutes later Chan, Y/n, Jeongin, and Changbin piled out of her car into the most busiest grocery store parking lot. “Why are we here again?” Jeongin whispered to Bin. “This is their usual punishment for losing a bet.”

Jeongin followed silently behind Y/n as she led the boys down an aisle. The devilish look returned on her face when she pulled three items off various shelves. His eyes widened when she shoved them into Chan’s arms.

“Check out on your card, no talking. Oh and don’t forget to smile.” With a dejected sigh Chan stepped into the busiest line and groaned when he saw a girl, specifically the daughter of Dr. Facilier, who Chan had grown a crush on. Y/n and her brother laughed at their luck as the watched near the exit.

Jeongin just watched still not fully understanding the punishment. With the most innocent and largest smile he had seen Chan put the biggest cucumber they could find, condoms, and lube on the conveyor. You could see the heat on his ears and the sweat on his forehead as he tried to keep the smile.

The girl looked up at him with an arched eyebrow as she saw the items roll down the conveyor. “You Auradon kids are weird.” She rang him up and chuckled as he took the bag not dropping the smile. Jeongin couldn’t help but laugh two as Chan turned and walked towards them with tears almost in his eyes.

Y/n and Changbin fell onto the floor in a fit of laughter muttering incoherent sentences. After they had calmed down Jeongin helped her up and took her hand as they exited the store.

“What’s with that smile?” She asked as the setting sun illuminated the boy’s face in a golden orange glow. He turned towards her and looked at the girl he was lucky to call his now.

“I just feel comfortable being myself around you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel like I have to be my mother or my father when I’m with you. I just feel like me.”

“Well....I think I like you.”

Jeongin smiled and leaned down to connect their lips in Auradon’s last few minutes of setting sun.

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thatssonanii · 4 years ago

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Attack (3)

Bloodline Family Series

"Babe, grab ya phone."

Algee shook his girlfriend who was resting on his chest. They were supposed to be watching Poetic Justice, having a movie night in the living room but she kept falling asleep on it. He nudged her a few more times before he realized she wasn't going to wake up. Easing her off of his chest, Algee grabbed her phone from the coffee table. He saw Rich's name and quickly answered.

"What's up, Mr. Rich?"

"I told you just Rich was fine, Algee. Where's my girl at?" He asked in a hushed tone.

Algee looked beside him. "Right here sleep. Tried to wake her up but she sleeps hard as hell."

"You gon have to shake her real hard, she gon be pissed but it's important."

Algee told him to hold on then shook his girlfriend as hard as he would shake one of his boys. She swung them at him and sat up frowning at him.

"The fuck you do that for? I was sleep."

Algee just passed her the phone, "Its Rich. He said it's important."

Summer snatched the phone and put it to her ear. "Yeah, dad?"

Algee paused the movie so she could hear and watched her. He noticed she went from frowning to confused to blank and it made him wonder what Rich was telling her. She hung up five minutes later and got up from the sofa rushing upstairs to his bedroom. Wanting to know what was going on, Algee followed her, he was confused when he got to the room and saw her packing her bag.

"What's goin on? Where you goin?" He asked.

Summer frantically packed her clothes and wiped her face, "I gotta go back to Florida."

"Right now? You don't wanna wait till the morning?"

"Not if I don't have to, no."

Taking a chance, Algee crossed the room and grabbed his girlfriend's hands making her look at him. She bit down on her lip and her right leg shook.

"What's wrong? Tell me what it is, Ella. I can help."

"My grandpa had a heart attack. I need to be there, I gotta go, Gee." She said as her lip quivered.

Algee hugged her tight, "Just breathe, Ella. Breathe and let it out. We gon get back there, I promise and everything will be aight."

Summer put her face in his neck and cried. "I gotta get there, Gee. I can't not be there."

"Baby, I'll make sure it happens. You calm down and I'll call ya cousins and find out when they leaving and we can all go together. Aight?"

Summer nodded pulling away from the hug, her lips were poked out and her face was red. Algee couldn't bare the sadness on her face, he would much rather her fussing at him. He made sure she was okay before leaving the room to call Milo.

"What's up, Algee?" Milo said in a flat tone.

"Um, Rich just called and told Summer. I was tryna see when yall were heading to Florida so we can head out with yall."

Milo told him to hold on for a second then went to talk to Aunni and Mercedes. "Um, our flight is at 10. So like two hours. I'll send you the flight information."

"Aight cool. Thank you. I know you not aight do I won't ask but I'm here if yall need anything."

"Preciate you. Um send Eli ya address so we can pick yall up on the way to the airport."

Algee agreed and hung up the call. As soon as they got off the phone Milo sent the information and Algee went ahead and bought their tickets.

"Milo and them got a flight for 10 so we gon head out then. Aight?"

Summer nodded sitting on the side of the bed beside her bag. She played with her nails trying to stop herself from crying. Algee went to the bed moving the bag so he could sit beside her.

"I'm not really good at this but if you tell me what you want me to do, I'll do it," Algee offered softly.

Summer put his arm around her and put her head on his chest. "Just hold me and tell me everything's gonna be okay."

"Aight I can do that for you. That ain't a problem."

Algee wasn't sure of the probability of surviving a heart attack is but he hoped like hell Damien was in the good side of the statistics.

#bloodline family series #algee & summerella #algee & summer

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hunter-the-sad-skeleton · 5 years ago

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Pokemon Sword And Shield: Ace’s trials

Chapter 1: “A smile that stretches a MIL-E-o!”

Ace ran out of the house, panic flooding his systems. No. No, no, no, no, no!!!! Why’d he have to snap at Wooloo?!? Winter would be so sad if she came home and Wooloo was missing! Ace ran off, tripping over his own feet sometimes, looking around for Wooloo. He eventually settled on checking in the pasture; other Wooloo, maybe it went there! “Wooloo?!? WOOLOO?!? Where did you go?!?” Ace called out, panicking.

Ace was gulping down air like it was ice cold root beer on a hot summer day as he ran through the pasture. “Wooloo?!? Bud, come on, where did you go?!?” Ace called out, starting to tear up. Ace rubbed the tears away from his eyes. “Wooloo, I’m sorry…! Just please come back…!” Ace hiccuped.

Ace’s eyes stung as tears started falling down his face. “I’m an adult now, I shouldn’t-*HIC*-I shoul-I shouldn’t be-I shouldn’t be crying about a dumb Wooloo running off…!” Ace sniffled.

Ace flinched as a hand gently landed on his shoulder. “Is everything okay, Acey?” Milo asked. Ace turned away, wiping the tears away.

“Heya, Mi..! I-I’m fine, just lookin’ for Wooloo is all..!” Ace lied. Milo smiled softly.

“It’s okay to be upset, Acey! I can help ya find ‘em if ya want!” Milo offered.

“I….Are ya sure..?” Ace asked. Milo nodded.

“I can ask my herd if they’ve seen them!” Milo offered. Ace nodded eagerly.

“Yes please..! Wooloo means so much to my sister and I don’t want her to be mad at me for losing them..!” Ace accepted. Milo nodded, gesturing for Ace to follow, Ace doing so swiftly.

Milo called his Wooloo herd over and they came quickly. “Okay guys, listen up! We need to find a Wooloo! One ya guys don’t know personally, but it belongs to Acey here!” Milo announced. Milo turned to Ace. “Did they have anything to make them stand out?” He asked.

“O-Oh! Well, they have a uh...Blue uh….Um….Bandana!” Ace answered. Milo nodded.

“So keep an eye out for a Wooloo wearing a BLUE BANDANA!” Milo announced. The Wooloo herd nodded, speeding off to go search when they were dismissed.

Ace shifted nervously, eyes filled up to the brim with worry, tensing up slightly when Milo put a hand on his shoulder, but relaxing when he saw it was Milo.

“It’ll be okay, I promise!” Milo smiled. Ace smiled back half-heartedly.

“I know, I’m just...worried that Winter will get home before I do with Wooloo…” Ace winced. Milo frowned slightly.

“Ace, what are you?” Milo asked.

“What…?” Ace asked, confused.

“Ace. What. Are. You.” Milo repeated.

“Uh….A Pokemon trainer…?” Ace replied in confusion.

“What class of trainer?” Milo asked.

“Uh…….G-Gym Leader…” Ace replied shyly.

“And what do we Gym Leaders do for each other?” Milo asked seriously.

Ace sniffled, rubbing his face. “L-Look out for each other…” Ace hiccuped.

“Exactly! And I can walk Wooloo home with you in case Winter gets home before you find Wooloo so I can explain!” Milo smiled. Ace smiled, feeling assured that it would turn out okay.

“But,” Milo started. “In order to do so, I need to know what happened. Want to talk about it over some tea?” Milo offered.

“Oh, uh, sure!” Ace replied, surprised.

(About an hour and a half later.)

“And that’s when I ran off to find her, and now here we are…” Ace explained. Milo nodded, finishing taking a drink of his tea.

“I see. Wooloo wanted to help, but you didn’t need it and it kept bothering you, trying to help, and you accidentally lost your temper.” Milo nodded.

“It’s such a stupid mistake...I shoulda known that Wooloo is more sensitive…!” Ace groaned.

Milo scowled. “Ace, shame on you! It’s not your fault! Not entirely!” Milo set his mug down.

“But I yelled at it…” Ace whimpered.

“Yes, but that is a reasonable reaction!” Milo scolded.

“I dunno...What if it never comes back because it hates me…?” Ace asked.

Milo froze, dumbfounded. He knew Ace’s self hatred was bad, but never THIS horrible. “Ace, bug, no…! I’m sure Wooloo would LOVE to come home with you…!” Milo soothed.

Ace rubbed tears out of the corner of his eyes. “But I-*HIC*-I-I-I-I-I yelled at it…! I made it-*HIC*-I made it sad…!” Ace sniffled.

Milo got up, walking over and pulling Ace into a hug. “It’s okay, we’ll find them…” Milo hummed.

Ace’s limbs fell limp as he melted into the hug. “Milo, bud, can I...ask you a question…?” Ace asked.

“What’s up, bug?” Milo asked.

“A lot of people tend to not go to my gym and opt for others to take my badge’s place…” Ace started nervously.

“Okay…?” Milo asked, confused.

“Would...Would anyone care if I just...wasn’t around anymore…?” Ace asked, tears welling up in his eyes. Milo froze, feeling like time followed suit.

“Ace, bug, of course people would care!” Milo fretted.

Ace fell silent.

“People care about you, Ace! I know it seems like that’s not true since people skip out on your gym, but that could just mean that they believe that you’re too powerful to take on!” Milo encouraged.

“But what if it’s not that…?” Ace asked, tears spilling down his face.

“Then they’re…...They’re…” Milo started.

“They’re bugger all!” Milo blurted out. Ace froze in shock. This was unusual for Milo to speak in such a way.

“Milo…” Ace faltered.

“If they say that you’re bugger all, then they’re a bunch of minging plastered Chavs is what they are!!” Milo declared. Ace’s eyes sparkled like a pair of Amethysts left out in the rain.

“I…….” Ace trailed off.

“If anyone gives you any trouble and doesn’t seem to be letting up, give me a bell and I’ll be there in two shakes of a Wooloo’s tail! You can bet on it!” Milo insisted.

Ace was taken aback, aside from Winter, he’d never really had anyone who had his back-in such a passionate way, too! “I...Thank you Mi…” Ace stuttered. Milo smiled.

“Us Gym leaders gotta look out for each other, right?” Milo chuckled. The two were interrupted by a Wooloo running in and tugging at Milo’s shorts, asking him to follow.

“Whoa, what is it, Maple?” Milo asked. Maple tugged at his shorts again, bleating in urgency.

Milo got up, grabbing his backpack and following Maple.

“Slow down, Maple!! I can only go so fast!!” Milo called. Maple bleated in concern and urgency, stopping by a cliff’s edge.

“Why’d ya bring us out here, girl?” Milo asked, patting her head.

“Meee!!!!” Maple bleated nervously.

Milo looked down the edge, seeing that it led to a crevice that spanned across most of the pasture. “Wait, what’s that down there…?” Milo asked, straining to see what was at the bottom.

Ace looked with Milo, eyes shrinking as realization hit. “SKYLAR?!?” Ace cried out. The shape moved slightly, followed by a weak bleat.

“Oh my-bug, is that your Wooloo?!” Milo asked, panicking slightly.

“Yeah, I don’t know how she got down there!!” Ace panicked.

“Does she have a pokeball?” Milo asked.

Ace shook his head no. “No, we always assumed that she would stay put!!” Ace panicked. Milo thought of how to help Skylar get out.

“How can we get her out…?” Milo hummed. Ace looked around in Milo’s bag, finding a chord of rope.

“Here!” Ace said, holding it out.

“How’s she gonna grab on?” Milo asked. Ace frowned, before getting another plan.

“Maybe that’ll work..!” Ace hummed.

Milo looked over, seeing Ace tying it around his waist.

“Oh! That’s genius, Acey!” Milo beamed. Ace nodded.

“Okay, are you and Wooloo able to lower me down slowly?” Ace asked. Milo nodded.

“Yeah, Wooloo is known for being gentle!” Milo smiled. Ace nodded, slowly getting lowered down.

Ace touched the ground, slipping slightly but ignoring the pain, and he walked over to Skylar. “Hey bud, it’s okay, I won’t hurt ya…” Ace said softly. Skylar got up, limping over.

Ace took a look at Skylar’s leg, seeing that it got scraped and broken on the way down. “IS SKYLAR OKAY?!?” Milo called.

“NO, IT LOOKS LIKE SHE BROKE HER LEG!!” Ace called back.

“OKAY, I’M GONNA GO GET THE FIRST AID KIT WHILE MAPLE AND THE OTHER WOOLOOS PULL YOU BACK UP!!” Milo called.

“OKAY!!!” Ace called back. Ace picked up Skylar. “OKAY, I’M READY, GUYS!!” Ace called. Ace and Skylar slowly started getting pulled up.

Maple walked backwards, slowly pulling Ace and Skylar up, jumping as she felt a tiny electric zap hit the back of her leg. Maple turned around, spotting a Yamper, running off as the Yamper started chasing after her.

Ace shrieked as he started plummeting down at a fast speed, putting himself on bottom, preparing for impact with the cold, hard, stone floor of the crevice.

A snap sound was heard as the rope stopped falling just before Ace and Skylar could hit the ground. Ace opened his left eye, looking around him. “Is this the new world…?” Ace asked.

“Good catch, Obstagoon, now pull them up!” A voice commanded. Ace’s eyes shrank as he registered who the voice belonged to.

Soon, Ace was back up at the top with Skylar and he placed her down on the grass, settling down on the cool wet grass as soon as he could.

“Are you two okay? I’m lucky I got here when I did.” The voice said. Ace nodded.

“Yeah, we’re fine...Oh! Except for Skylar, I think she broke her leg..!” Ace panted.

He nodded his head. “Understood. Scrafty, go retrieve Milo. Tell him that Ace and Skylar are back at the top, safe and sound, okay?” He asked. Scrafty nodded, speeding off.

“Thanks for the help...I was almost an electric type gym leader pancake…” Ace sighed in relief.

“No problem, Ace. Us Gym Leaders gotta stick together, ya know?” He asked.

“Yeah…” Ace nodded. Milo came running into view, Scrafty hurrying behind.

“Acey, are you okay?! Is Skylar okay?!” Milo asked, worrying heavily.

Ace nodded. “All thanks to-” Ace started.

“Piers, yeah, he came by earlier today-just before you came by searching for Skylar-Said he needed me to find a recipe for a curry to help soothe an upset stomach for a Morpeko!” Milo nodded.

“I swear, that thing eats more than it should and KNOWS the outcome each and EVERY time…” Piers sighed.

Ace went to get up before wincing out loud and falling back down. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Piers asked.

Ace remembered back, hand darting to his right ankle, wincing as he made contact. “Oh, Bloody-” Ace stopped himself. “Heck…!” Ace corrected.

“Sounds like a sprained ankle to me.” Piers shrugged.

“Nah, it’s nothing, I’m fine, it’s just-I just got up too quickly…!” Ace denied. Piers’ eyelids drooped in a “B*tch, really?” sorta way.

“Alright. Stand up straight, putting ALL OF YOUR WEIGHT onto that ankle then.” Piers said. Ace’s eyes widened. “Well? Go on then. If you’re fine, as you so claim, go ahead and put all of your weight onto that one ankle.” Piers quipped.

“I...No! That’s a dumb idea!” Ace retaliated.

“So you admit you’re injured?” Piers raised an eyebrow.

“No! I’m fine!” Ace declined.

“So what’s wrong then? Scared?” Piers asked, crossing his arms.

“No, I just...don’t feel like it right now is all!” Ace snapped. Piers sighed.

“We can head back and then see if you’re ‘okay’.” Piers said, making air quotes as he said okay.

Ace shook his head no. “I’m fine right down here, thank you very much!” Ace peeped. Piers rolled his eyes, picking him up bridal style and carrying him back. “Hey! I can walk, ya know!” Ace objected.

“No, ya can’t, ya big baby.” Piers frowned.

(Inside.)

“Yeah, that’s a sprained ankle if ever I’ve seen one.” Milo nodded.

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Piers asked.

“Okay, sprained ankle, so what? I can still do stuff!” Ace shrugged.

“No. You need to keep off that ankle as much as possible until it’s fully healed.” Piers denied.

“But the Pokemon League starts tomorrow…! I can’t skip out again!” Ace frowned.

“I’m sure that if we explain, it’ll be okay!” Milo comforted.

“Who says ya need to miss the opening ceremony?” Piers asked.

Milo and Ace turned to look at him, confused. “I...Can’t walk, dude...How do I get there?” Ace asked.

“You recovered your Wooloo today, yeah?” Piers asked.

“Are you suggesting-” Ace started.

“No, I’m saying that if your very livelihood depends on you making it to the next opening ceremony, you need to have a ride pokemon, and you just rescued one.” Piers said frankly.

“Wait...But could it support my weight?” Ace asked. Milo nodded swiftly.

“Yeah! Wooloos are VERY strong pokemon! That’s why I use them as assistants for my farm work!” Milo approved.

“What, do I just saddle up Skylar, day of the opening ceremony and just ride in with flying colors?” Ace scoffed. The room went dead silent.

“Actually, Yes. Spot on.” Piers said seriously. Ace’s jaw dropped.

“Where would I get a saddle anyways?!” Ace asked.

“I have some spares!” Milo beamed.

“Oh, this is actually happening.” Ace gawked.

“Ya can’t skip out again, remember?” Piers smirked.

Ace’s face heated up. “There’s no way it’ll work…!” Ace sighed.

“Oh, there’s EVERY way that it’ll work.” Piers grinned.

“But I’ll look silly!” Ace whimpered.

“Ya got any better ideas?” Piers asked, leaning against the wall behind him.

“YES! ANYTHING BUT THAT!” Ace blurted out.

“Well, I always have a mudbray you could ri-” Milo started.

“Wooloo works fine.” Ace said blankly.

Milo grinned. “Wooloo it is, then!”

“Can’t wait to see it.” Piers smirked.

“What, at home?” Ace asked sarcastically.

“Nah. In person.” Piers snarked. Ace’s face heated up, turning a bright red.

“What…?!” Ace wheezed.

“Yeah, I’m turning up in person this year.” Piers smirked.

“Of course, the ONE YEAR I’m going with a sprained ankle!” Ace wheezed.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Milo smiled.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of it…!” Ace groaned.

“It’ll be fine, you big baby!” Milo smiled.

“I hope so…” Ace sighed.

“Now then,” Milo said, getting up. “Let’s getcha home, yeah?” Milo said, clapping a hand onto Ace’s shoulder. Ace nodded, standing up before he was headbutted onto his bum.

“Hey! What the-” Ace started, looking up and seeing Skylar in front of him. Ace nodded, using Skylar as a walking assist.

(Timeskip.)

“Lights are on...That means Winter’s home...” Ace winced.

“I’ll explain, don’t worry, bug!” Milo beamed. Ace went up and unlocked the door, hobbling inside.

“Bro-Bro, there you are! I’ve been worried sick!” Winted whimpered, hugging Ace tightly.

“I’m fine, sis...!” Ace wheezed, getting the air knocked out of him.

“Where were you?!” Winter asked.

“Excuse me? Winter?” Milo asked gently. Winter looked at Milo.

“Yeah?” Winter asked.

“Sorry about intruding, but your brother got hurt today, so he’s going to need to borrow Skylar tomorrow for the opening ceremony for the pokemon league, is that alright with you?” Milo asked gently. Winter nodded.

“Yes! If it helps my best big bro, it’s fine by me!” Winter allowed.

“Wonderful! Thank you so much!” Milo smiled.

“Why’d he get hurt?” Winter asked. Milo explained what happened and Winter hugged Ace tightly afterwards. “Oh, big bro...! You didn’t have to hurt yourself for Skyla...!” Winter squeaked.

“I didn’t want ya to get mad at me, sis...” Ace frowned.

“Well, you take the rest of the night off! I can handle everything else!” Winter said.

“Oh No.” Ace gulped.

(Tag list, feel free to ask to be removed or added!): @bccfggffbgv, @new-account-sam-christy-456, @anaanswersstuff

#My Writing #REBLOG PLEASE #Pokemon Milo #Pokemon Piers #Pokemon Wooloo #Pokemon Yamper #Pokemon Ocs #My Ocs #Winter Electro #Ace Electro #Ask To Tag

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halfgclden · 4 years ago

Text

BLOOD BROTHERS | CHASE&JESSE&PATRICK

Summary: Patrick has a chat with his brothers.

Date: Monday, June 15th, 2020

Tw: death mention

Patrick couldn't stop thinking about Milo. Every day since talking to Tai, he kept seeing it, imagining how it happened. His mind would wander, latch onto something else for a short amount of time, but without fail it would go back to his brother. He kept seeing his dead brother everywhere.

He found himself walking, one lazy, idyllic afternoon, his mind recreating and recreating a painting. Patrick pulled his phone out of his pocket and found Chase's number— he never saved it but he still had the text that his brother sent last. Almost on autopilot, he dialed, and held the phone to his ear. When there was a click on the other line, Patrick spoke. "Are you home?"

Chase was licking a joint closed as his phone rang. He pulled his legs up onto the couch and answered, tucking the joint behind his ear and answered his phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

"Are you home?" Patrick repeated, his voice taking on a bit more an edge. He paused at the corner of the sidewalk, trying to remember the way. "I wanna talk to you about something."

Chase frowned slightly at Patrick's serious tone. "Yeah, 'm home. What's up?"

Jesse looked over from his book and mouthed who is it? to Chase.

For some reason, the question grated against him. Patrick clenched his teeth. "I need my phone to figure out how to get to your place," he said. "I'll talk to you when I get there." Without waiting for his response, Patrick hung up.

Chase felt his heart drop into his stomach as he heard the line go silent. “Um.” He blinked and swallowed. “Patrick.”

Jesse hesitated, then closed his book. “Is he coming here?”

Chase nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah. He wanted to talk about something?”

“Oh.” Jesse frowned, trying to think of what Patrick could want with Chase. “Want me to go then?”

Chase frowned. “He sounded upset.” He ran a tongue over his teeth. “So, yeah, maybe.”

“Hm.” Jesse ran a hand through his hair and looked to the door. “Okay. I’ll head upstairs once he’s here.”

Chase shook his hair out with both hands and pulled his knees in toward himself. “Cool.”

It seemed to only take a few minutes— not the nearly fifteen— to make it to the townhouse. Patrick knocked but didn't wait for anyone to open the door, assuming it was already unlocked. He was right, and he took a deep breath as he stepped inside. "Hey," he said to Chase, then his eyes flickered to Jesse.

Jesse stood up as Patrick entered, not looking at him. He picked up his book and glanced over at Chase. "Let me know when you're done."

Another swell of anger hit him, but outwardly, Patrick just sighed. "You don't have to run away."

Chase turned to look at Patrick and raised his eyebrows. "Hey." He glanced at Jesse before looking back at Patrick. "Uh, what did you want to talk about?"

"Right, yeah," Jesse said, opening his book as he headed towards the kitchen so he had a reason to ignore Patrick.

Patrick rolled his eyes and finally walked the rest of the way into the room. He took a seat on the couch, as far from Chase as he could manage. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure where to start, what he even wanted to say. "I want to..." Patrick trailed off, then exhaled in frustration.

Chase followed Patrick with his eyes and then faced him as he took a seat. He ran his eyes over his brother and furrowed his brow. "You good?"

Forcing himself to relax, Patrick uncrossed his arms and sank a little more into the couch. "Is anyone else home besides you two?"

Chase frowned. "Uh, don't think so. Cas might be on the roof. Why?"

Jesse leaned against the counter in the kitchen with his book out before him, but his attention was with Chase and Patrick on the couch.

Patrick nodded. "Alright." He stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know if they'd want to hear all this, but I guess it doesn't matter." He was quiet for another moment, then pinched the bridge of his nose. "I fucking... I found out about Milo."

Chase felt his chest tighten and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had thought about telling Patrick about their brother before, but he was never sure about how to bring it up. "Oh," he exhaled the word, feeling as though a balloon was deflating in his chest. He licked his lips and turned his body towards Patrick. "Are you okay?"

Jesse closed the book quietly and straightened up as he listened.

For some reason, he wasn't expecting the question and it wiped away everything he thought he might say. Patrick looked toward Chase, frowning. The anger that had been burning in his chest started to ache. "No, Chase, why would I be okay?"

Chase sat up a bit and moved slightly closer to Patrick. He pressed his lips together as he frowned, searching for something to say. "Fuck, man. I'm sorry." He drew his eyebrows together. "How'd you find out?"

He didn't want to answer that question, because it might mean more and then even more that would just take them off track from the matter at hand. So instead he just shook his head, looking away again. "Why didn't you say anything? Either of you? I've been here for fucking weeks."

Chase ran his fingers through the hair at the back of his head. He pressed his lips together. "Um, well." He glanced down, but looked back at Patrick's face quickly. "We haven't hung out much, and I guess I wanted to you to settle in before..." He frowned and shook his head. "Fuck, I don't know. I'm sorry."

Jesse furrowed his eyebrows, frowning in confusion. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Chase, then back at Patrick. “I thought you knew.”

Patrick was quiet as Chase spoke, and was already shaking his head by the time Jesse joined in. He barked out a laugh. "Bullshit, Jesse." He put his attention back on his older brother. "I don't think you actually planned to ever tell me."

Chase tugged at his hair and ran his tongue over his teeth again, watching a spot on Patrick's shoulder. "I... thought about it, I dunno. Nothing felt... right." His mouth was dry and he frowned, then shook his head.

Jesse frowned further at Chase’s expression and headed around the counter to join his brothers in the living room, standing beside Chase.

"Nothing felt right about telling me about our dead fucking brother?" Patrick's voice was full of acid. "Yeah, I'm not surprised. You still have to fucking tell me, you owe me that fucking much after everything else."

Chase tugged at his hair again and gave a small nod, finally dropping his gaze. "Well, you guys were never close, and it's been so long that, like, I don't know." He frowned, blinking rapidly at the ground. "I guess I was waiting for you to ask."

Patrick laughed again, shooting to his feet in an attempt to maintain his rising anger. "Fuck you! Don't. Do not fucking do that. Don't flip this on me and make it about how much I did or didn't give a shit about— Don't pretend you knew anything about me or what mattered to me!"

Chase kept his hand in his hair and just looked at the floor, waiting for Patrick to finish.

Jesse touched Chase’s shoulder, looking between the two of them. “Whoa, hey, none of this is Chase’s fault. You could have found out already.”

As soon as Jesse stepped in, Patrick sneered. "Are you fucking serious? How?" He paused. "Is Rhys dead, too? Since apparently I have to ask."

Chase rubbed his forehead and shook his head. “No, nah, Rhys is fine.” He swallowed. “He left.”

“I don’t know, you could have found out through someone else.” Jesse looked back at Chase when he spoke.

He got the confirmation and let the small detour pass without another comment. Instead, Patrick focused on Jesse. "Yeah, and I fucking did, because the two of you were fucking cowards.”

Chase shook his head at Jesse. “No, man, no, it is my fault. That isn’t something he should’ve heard from someone else.” He looked back up, to Patrick’s knee. “I’m– Fuck, sorry.”

He didn't want an apology, he didn't want Chase to just slump over when he still had so much anger. "Sorry for what? For not telling me? For lying by omission? For leaving me behind? Because maybe if I'd fucking been there our little brother wouldn't have been all alone and he wouldn't be dead."

Chase stuck his fingers into his mouth nervously and shrugged, figuring Patrick didn’t actually want an answer to his question. “Who told you?”

The non-answer made Patrick bristle. "That wasn't a fucking rhetorical question."

Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders tense. “Lay off him.”

Chase’s hair turned to a dark grey and he swallowed, pulling his fingers out of his mouth so that he could tug at his collar, feeling his chest seize slightly. He let out a slow breath as he shook his head. “For... Fuck, I’m sorry, Patrick.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. "You know what? I changed my mind. Run off, Jesse, you're not adding anything worthwhile to this conversation, per fucking usual."

Jesse hunched his shoulders defensively. “No, I’m not going to leave so you can tell Chase everything is his fault.”

Chase looked between Patrick and Jesse, feeling as though he was watching the two of them through some sort of screen. He didn’t say anything.

"You know what, fair point," Patrick snapped back, pointing at him with a bright, enraged smile, "because it's your fault, too. Arguably, probably, more you're fault, because we all know who talked Chase into leaving for camp without me."

Jesse took half a step back when Patrick pointed at him, but didn’t look away. “You really think if you were there it would’ve gone differently?”

Chase blinked, fighting down the tightness in his chest. “No, that.” He shook his head. “We had to leave.” He frowned and wrapped his arms around himself. “We told you we were going.”

"I don't know!" Patrick took a step closer to the two, but was still looking just at Jesse. "And now we'll never know because you took that option away! I showed up! I packed up my shit and I went to meet you and you were already fucking gone." He turned slightly, pushing his hair back roughly with his hand. "You know they were pissed off when you were gone, right? They asked all of us fucking questions, they made me promise I wasn't about to do the same thing, they kept an eye on everyone. I had to wait until I was in the middle of fucking Manhattan and everybody was scattered to make a break for it. But you don't fucking care about any of that. You don't care what happened to me or anyone or who's life got worse or ended because as long as you two have each other, as long as you could run away together, fuck everything else, right?"

Chase unwrapped his arms from around himself, wondering when he’d become so meek. He let out a small wheeze before he forced himself to sit up fully but didn’t stand. “Patrick, nothing I’m going to say is going to make any of it better, but I’m sorry, really.” His voice was low and even. “You left for the other side before we did, said that you never wanted to come back, and then when we said we were leaving, you said you’d think about it, but it was a war, man, we couldn’t wait forever.” He frowned, still looking at Patrick. “Don’t take it out on Jesse. He was a kid, both of you were just kids, and I should have been taking care of you guys, but I didn’t.” He shook his head. “I should’ve told you.”

Jesse watched Patrick steadily as he spoke, his words sinking in without really making an impact. He should have felt bad for him, he knew that, and if it was anyone else he would have– but looking at his brother's face, only the barest level of sympathy stirred. He turned to Chase instead and shook his head. "You're barely a year older. It's just as much on me." I just don't feel bad about it, he kept to himself.

For once, he agreed with Jesse, but Patrick didn’t pay him any mind, his burning gaze falling back onto Chase. “Shut the fuck up, I don’t give a shit how sorry you are. I don’t care how much you know you should have done something. You didn’t, so fuck you.”

Chase nodded and chewed on his thumb nail. He couldn’t argue when he knew that Patrick was right.

Jesse touched Chase’s shoulder again, eyes still fixed on Patrick. “If you didn’t come here for an apology, why bother?”

Patrick laughed yet again, shaking his head in disgust. “ I don’t know, I thought maybe there’d actually be a good reason for treating our dead brother like a big shameful secret other than... it being a big fucking shameful secret. Other than brother dear just being fucking spineless.”

Chase shifted away from Jesse’s touch and tugged at his hair again. He muttered his name backwards to himself quietly. “That’s all it was.” He frowned and shook his head.

Jesse put his hands back in his pockets when Chase pulled away. He glanced over at him momentarily, then focused back on Patrick. "We're not treating him like that. How did you find out?"

"Oh, you're not?" Patrick asked, his voice dripping with venom. "I heard it from Tai. Got his whole sob story about how he did all he could, and he was really fucking surprised when he realized I didn't know."

Jesse mouthed the words sob story to himself incredulously and shook his head. "You're unbelievable. No, we're not. I thought someone would have told you when you came back."

Chase somehow frowned more. “It’s not a sob story.”

Patrick threw his hands up. "Oh my fucking god." He rubbed his hands down his face. "Do you think I'm an idiot? That's clearly bullshit, you haven't spared me a single thought besides wishing that I wasn't here at all. Don't lie to me, Jesse."

Jesse crossed his arms. "Okay, fine. I haven't spared you a single thought besides wishing you weren't here."

Chase pressed his fingers to his lips but stopped himself from pushing them into his mouth. "Guys, please."

"And you know what the difference between you and me is, Jesse?" Patrick continued, ignoring Chase. "I feel the exact same way about you as you do about me, but I would have made sure that you didn't have something like this sprung on you out of fucking nowhere."

Jesse exhaled and shook his head again, ignoring Chase as well. "I don't believe that for a second. When did you want me to bring it up? Before or after you followed me across New Athens to insult me? Pretty sure you would've found a way to be angry about it then too."

Chase saw the fight escalating and stood up, standing between his brothers. "Guys, stop."

Patrick stepped forward again. "Oh god forbid I get angry about our fifteen-year-old sibling being ripped to—" He cut himself off when Chase stood, but continued to glare over his shoulder at Jesse. "You're right, I wouldn't have appreciated hearing it from you, especially after you told me you wished I was dead."

Jesse bit the inside of his cheek and stayed silent once Chase stepped in between them but didn't look away from Patrick.

Chase frowned and turned to look at Jesse. "You told him you wished he was dead?"

"Yep," Patrick answered for him, crossing his arms. Like Jesse, he kept his gaze steady.

"No," Jesse responded at the same time. He frowned at Patrick. "No, that's not what I said."

Chase looked from one brother to the other, keeping himself between them. "What did you say?"

"I said, 'I'm not the one disappointed to see his brother alive,'" Patrick kept going, once again answering the question meant for Jesse. "Implying, of course, that Jesse was the one disappointed. And then Jesse said, 'I guess you aren't.'" While quoting Jesse, Patrick altered his voice a bit, doing a mocking imitation of his brother.

Jesse couldn't argue with the direct quote. He looked away from Patrick finally to stare at a spot on the wall to his left, arms still crossed. "After you wouldn't leave me alone, and called me how many things?" He clenched his jaw and looked back at him. "Fine, disappointed you're alive is an exaggeration. But not by much."

Chase felt his heart sink into his stomach again and frowned deeply at both of his brothers. "Both of you spend so much time antagonizing each other, and what's the point?" He crossed his arms. "You guys didn't see this as a way to start things over?"

Patrick snorted. "Is that why you didn't mention Milo? So we could start over? Really fucked up, Chase."

Jesse pressed two fingers to his temple. "This isn't going anywhere. Did you want anything else, Patrick?"

Chase rubbed his knuckles into his sternum and shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he said quietly.

After a moment of quiet, Patrick just shrugged. "Just wanted to say that you both make me sick." He started to back up, then paused, like he just remembered something. "Oh and, eat shit, Jesse." Then he continued for the door.

Jesse slid his hand over his face and sighed. "Great."

Chase pressed his lips together and gave Jesse an apologetic look.

Jesse took a few moments to gather himself then put a hand on Chase's shoulder again. "You okay?"

Chase frowned and looked away from Jesse. He shrugged.

Jesse exhaled through his nose and looked at the door, then pulled Chase into a hug.

Chase pressed his forehead into Jesse's shoulder and hugged him back, sighing. "I'm sorry." He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I meant to tell him." He squeezed his eyes shut. "But it... I dunno. It's hard to talk about him." He struggled to suck in a breath. "You didn't have to be here for that, I'm sorry."

Jesse rubbed Chase's back. "God, no, none of that was your fault. Want to sit down?" He didn't pull away from the hug, willing to stay standing in that position as long as Chase needed.

Chase pulled away from the hug and took a seat on the couch. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and shoved his palm into his chin, doing his best to breathe quietly. "It was my fault, Chris, straight up." He kept his eyes closed. "I should have told him. That wasn't fair."

Jesse followed him to the couch and sat down beside him, leaning their shoulders together. He slumped down enough to rest his head on Chase's shoulder. "He only just got back. It's not like that's something to bring up in the first conversation."

“Yeah,” Chase exhaled the word halfheartedly. “I just want us everything to be okay.” He pressed his fingertips into his mouth. “I don’t want everything to...” He shook his head. “I don’t know why everything is like this.”

Jesse closed his eyes, wishing for the hundredth time that day that Patrick had never come back to camp. "Me neither."

#c: chase #c: chasejesse #c: chasepatrick

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