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angelanimedesaray · 4 years ago

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Through the Looking Glass Chapter 9: April

AN: I’m getting ahead of the question now and stating that in this world, AOT isn’t an anime (Poor souls). So no, the Reader isn’t going to become omnipotent to Levi’s life/world.

They did not binge this in one day. The first round, for sure they did, but it was a little broken up in spurts. For the sake of brevity, considering this was already going to be a long chapter, I cut out all the flickering back and forth and just focused on their Movie Nights and them watching the show.

It might feel a weird mix of rushed and long, because they’re watching the entirety of Your Lie In April, but I wasn’t going to transcribe the whole show, so there’s a lot of summarizing and cutting things out and highlighting certain pieces, but its still long because there’s a LOT to cover.

Also because of how emotional this chapter is actually going to be, I want to just remind...that Levi is like, mid teens, and hasn’t gone through much of the stuff that adult Levi has been through, so in my mind, that justifies a bit more of a REACTION for some of this stuff. But he’s still Levi, and he’s still going to be reserved and such, just...not as controlled as Adult Levi.

This whole chapter is like one big lead up to the next chapter, funnily enough. XD

Also got to listen to “Constellation” by Far Out feat. Karra on repeat writing this. It felt so fitting!

I’m putting quotes from Your Lie in April in italics with quotes and an indent like this, so its clear that they came from the show. Levi’s thoughts/memories will just be in italics, no indention .

Characters: Levi, Reader

Pairing: (Eventual Levi x Reader)

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR “YOUR LIE IN APRIL”, Angst, FEELINGS, Language

Word Count: 10994

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

At long last, Y/N was finally going to show him those movie, show things she kept talking about. He knew plays and acting and putting on an act, but the concept of a show that was saved so you could watch it whenever you wanted without having to make people do it over and over was novel to him.

Boisterously proclaiming that it was going to be a “Movie Night” day, she’d grabbed his hand and dragged him after her like she’d used to do when they were young, despite his protests. To be fair, he didn’t try too hard to wiggle away, either, letting her pull him along to the living room as she fussed and tried to decide what they were going to watch.

After all of her attempts to explain what a movie or TV show was, she decided that the best way to explain it to him was just to show him, though she still had to stop and explain the type of show they were watching.

“Okay, so what I’m showing you right now, is actually called an anime. It’s a type of animation from a country called Japan, and it’s made from computers or hand drawn. They draw the story, picture by picture, and put it together to make the characters and such move, with actors doing their voices and recording it in time with the pictures, sound effects like bells and wind also being saved, background music, so on and so forth,” she explained as she cut up pieces of paper and layered them on top of each other, pulling out a pencil and drawing a circle on each page, moving its position slightly each time. “See, if you do it frame by frame, and then move it really fast, it's like the ball is bouncing--animation, and anime, works off the same concept, except they’re drawing everything,” she continued to explain, grabbing the bottom page and then letting the papers rapidly spring free, causing Levi to see the ball she drew appear to move along the page, even though he knew it was a bunch of individual drawings going by rapidly.

“They draw a solid background that doesn’t move, and then they add another layer on top that you can see through like glass, but they draw the moving parts on that layer, so it looks like they’re in the solid background and they’re walking and whatnot. It’s really cool--makes me wish I could draw,” she continued, putting aside the papers she’d used for her demonstration and picking up the controller so she could get them started, gesturing for Levi to take a seat on the couch. “I haven’t seen this one yet, but a friend recommended I watch it cause I love music, and I play the piano, and she said it was a really good coming of age story. I’m a little wary cause she said she wanted my reaction to the end, but she usually suggests stuff I love, so I’m gonna trust it,” she continued to babble as the screen lit up with colors and pictures like a computer screen, most of it nonsensical to Levi as she shifted rapidly past most of it looking for the specific show.

She stopped on something extremely colorful, blues and yellows and pinks and reds in vibrant color with four drawn people lying in what looked like the sky, and she abruptly turned to face him. “Are you okay with having to read what they say? The original is in a different language, so it’ll have subtitles at the bottom translating what they say. There are other versions where they redid the speaking parts in different languages, but I really like listening to the original--I feel like it really gets the emotions across because it's so well done.”

Levi hesitated for a moment, contemplating her offer of putting it in a language they understood or keeping the original and having to read what they were saying. Eventually, he just shrugged. “Whichever you want.”

“Subtitles it is,” she said, turning back to the TV and messing with a few things before she finally started the show, coming over to sit by him on the couch. He was sitting normally, his ankle propped up on his leg with one arm resting against the back of the couch, the other lying casually in his lap. Y/N, however, sat directly beside him, his arm behind her shoulders and her side pressed slightly against his, causing Levi to glance at her, mind flashing back to how she’d sat at the piano with him not too long ago. She wasn’t even glancing at him, though, gradually relaxing next to him like a kitten curling up to get warm, her eyes fixed on the colorful display that was now on the TV.

Turning his attention back to the TV, Levi studied the images in front of him, a cheerful bit of piano music fluttering towards them as vibrant and colorful images of a girl chasing a black cat moved seamlessly across the screen, much smoother than the quickly drawn bouncing ball Y/N had put together to describe what they would be watching.

If she was trying to sneak a peak of his reaction, she would catch his eyes had widened at the vibrant colors and amazing detail, the realistic sounds that came through and made him want to check and see if the piano behind them was being played, or there were people hiding somewhere making the character’s voices and singing the song as the scene suddenly shifted to what Y/N described to him as an intro, a quick prologue of sorts that set the tone of the show. Thankfully, however, she’d already explained to him that the sounds were done beforehand, recorded and somehow stored so it would be repeated to the images on the screen as they watched.

It was a little...outside his realm of understanding, how it all worked, and he had the sneaking suspicion he’d just have to accept that it just was and he needed to sit back and try to enjoy it. That was how a show was supposed to work, right? And that was exactly what Y/N seemed to be doing.

As she had warned him, the characters were speaking an entirely different language, so Levi couldn’t understand what was being said on its own. Thankfully, there were the subtitles to translate, Levi’s gaze flickering between reading the small letters to looking at the colorful screen to see what was happening, trying not to get too caught up in the details he didn’t understand, like the games the kids were playing, and how different the environment was even to what he saw in Y/N’s world.

At least the basic stuff he could easily make sense of--the main character was obviously the quiet and reserved, black haired, blue eyed pianist Kousei, and the characters were around Levi and Y/N’s age. The point of the story wasn’t clear yet, but she’d explained this was going to be episodic--it would be played like chapters in a novel, stopping at the end of a chapter before they would have to start the next one. So it might be a while before he started catching that. Right now, they were meeting characters, finding out their relationship to one another and getting hints at the history between them all.

Like the fact that Kousei lived alone because his father was absent, and his mother was deceased. She’d succumbed to illness when he was still young. That alone had the stirrings of empathy settling in Levi’s chest for the main character. He couldn’t relate to the abuse, but the desire to make her better, that somehow he could do something to make her feel better did resonate. It made him listen to their conversations a bit more, since he already had a foothold and something relatable.

Once he started drawing comparisons to the story unfolding in front of him, he couldn’t stop noticing them.

“The moment I met him, my life changed. Everything I saw, heard, and felt. All the scenery around me started to take on color. The whole world began to sparkle.”

A world of monotone, devoid of color, until he meets a certain vibrant youth who brings a sudden rush of color and life into the world around her, dragging Kousei in by the hand--as if he could ever resist the force of nature she was.

Hm. He wondered who that reminded him of.

He didn’t even notice when the “chapter” ended and the next started, his gaze flickering subtly towards Y/N on the couch beside him, appearing just as taken by the story as he already was.

However, this new chapter did bring about new questions, and was a bit closer to his grasp of understanding after watching Y/N play music for so long.

“Do you ever do competitions?” Levi asked as the characters walked around the competition and the history Kousei had at this specific building was teased, easily able to see that there was a piano on the stage despite it being a violin competition. Surely if there were competitions for violins, there were for pianos?

She shook her head, chewing slightly on her lower lip as she answered him. “No way--I play piano for myself and a few people. I’m not looking to make a career of it or become famous for it. Not to mention, I don’t think I’m cut out for competitions. There’s a lot of pressure, and they’re really strict about playing the pieces exactly how they were originally written. I want to play the piano how I feel, and that’s not always by paying attention to how it's written on the sheet.”

“And violins? What are they like?” he asked. He hadn’t seen or heard a violin yet, and was curious to hear what they would sound like.

“They’re a string instrument--portable, small. Really beautiful, too--they’re my second favorite instrument. They usually pair wonderfully with pianos--I’m pretty sure it’s common for a piano to accompany a violin in shows and competitions.”

Levi hushed with his questions again as the scenes playing out on the TV continued to unfold and the first violin performer took the stage, Levi hearing the light and lively music of the violin for the first time, the same song being performed over and over by the nondescript and nameless musicians on the stage in the show.

Beside him, Y/N was slowly tilting her head side to side as she listened to the music being played, eyes fixed on the screen. She must have felt almost in her element watching this, while Levi felt a bit more like Tsubaki, not understanding a lot of the names and such that were being thrown around by the characters in discussion, but still there to enjoy it nonetheless. When Kousei was tapping his fingers on the armchair to the piano music, Levi’s gaze flickered to Y/N to see if she was doing something similar, since she seemed focused on the music as well. It wasn’t as precise as Kousei, maybe she wasn’t playing every note in her head, but her fingers were lightly tapping against her legs like she wanted to be playing the keys on the piano.

Then came Kaori’s first performance.

Watching, Levi felt a familiarity in the girl’s intensity, once again reminded of the girl sitting next to him, who seemed to throw herself into every aspect of life around her--at least compared to him. There was a tension in the air, a feeling that this was going to be much different than the music they’d been hearing up until this point. Even Y/N had stilled next to him, eyes riveted to the girl on the screen.

The first notes were shocking. After listening to Y/N play the piano for so long, even his unprofessional, inexperienced ear could hear the shift in the sound, and how rich and deep it suddenly was. Beside him, Y/N shifted into a more upright position, eyes suddenly lighting up and sparkling as she leaned forward, her breath catching. The ripple through the audience wasn’t just in the show, but in reality, as the two of them on the couch suddenly focused entirely on Kaori’s performance.

The girl’s eyes flashed on screen, and the music suddenly leapt to life before them, making his own heart seem to pound a little faster, the sounds pleasant and uplifting to his ears, making him restless in a good way. It sounded similar to when Y/N played the piano with him that one day, not necessarily in skill, but in the life and emotion that was in it.

Like Y/N, Kaori was pouring herself into her playing, she shone brightly through in the piece, made like it was pulling back a curtain to reveal a part of her soul. Kousei even said as much, stating that Kaori was making the piece hers and hers alone.

The performance ended, and Y/N suddenly grabbed his arm with a squeal. “That was awesome! I’m going to have to find a recording of that!” she said breathlessly. Her excitement was infectious, and almost prompted Levi towards a smile as they slowly settled back onto the couch, the story progressing in front of them.

She was such a stark contrast to the black haired youth in front of her, the whirlwind to his reserved personality, but even she would show flashes of vulnerability, for his eyes only, it seemed. And he did what he could to hide what he could in order to protect her, without her ever knowing, probably.

Wait, was he still thinking about Kaori and Kousei?

Levi shook his head, focusing back on what was happening, reading Kousei’s contemplations about how he could still hear the refrain of the music Kaori played in the competition he witnessed, over and over.

Levi’s fingers tapped slightly against the back of the couch and in his lap, barely tapping out the melodies for the song they’d played on the piano the other day, music he heard even when he was alone with his thoughts in his own world, still able to feel her fingers aligned with his, guiding him through each key. He’d find himself tapping them out in rare moments of idleness, like he was still clinging to the memory of the sound even if he didn’t have a piano in his world.

Y/N shifted entirely back to her relaxed position against Levi’s side, head brushing briefly against his shoulder and making his skin tingle where the brief contact had been, his stomach squirming.

Kaori dragged poor Kousei around everywhere, usually into situations far out of his comfort zone, and far more aggressively than a certain someone sitting beside him. However, it seemed like more often then not, those situations were wonderful places that he wouldn’t have found or experienced on his own.

She brought color to his monochrome life.

Where he was hidden in shadows, she was cast in light, and she didn’t hesitate to pull him into the sun.

”I know you’re broken and beat up, but I want you. I choose you. I want you here.”

The beginning chapters seemed to fly by quickly, with Kaori pushing Kousei more and more, and beside Levi, Y/N seemed to be slowly wiggling closer to him. Was it intentional? Did she realize she was doing it? He did--he seemed hypersensitive to every motion, yet he didn’t pull away, didn’t even twitch. He stayed still, like sudden movement might frighten her away as easily as a stray cat.

As intriguing as the events on the screen were--and he was taking in the information, such as how Kousei used to have a black cat, how he couldn’t hear the sound of the piano after his mother died and quit piano directly afterwards, important stuff like that--Levi’s thoughts kept wandering as he watched.

He thought of how beautiful the trees with the pink petals were, how breathtaking every scene with them was, and how prominently they seemed to feature in every scene that had something meaningful going on. Y/N called them cherry blossom trees. He wanted to see one. What would it look like? What would the scene be if he stood under one with her?

Before he knew it, Kaori had cornered Kousei into accompanying her on the piano, and they were rushing towards another performance. Anticipation stirred in the air between him and Y/N, both of them wondering how this piece would sound, considering Kousei had already been framed as a child prodigy on the piano, and they knew Kaori was breathtaking. What would it sound like when they played together? Levi worried about how it would turn out, how Kousei seemed to be unraveling in front of them just before they went up on stage.

Before Kaori gave him a literal smack to get him out of his own head.

As lighthearted and carefree as she seemed to be, every now and then, she would drop these little petals of wisdom.

Levi’s gaze flickered to Y/N again.

Her eyes would shift from a sparkle that almost seemed naive to a depth he hadn’t expected to see, and she’d say something that seemed beyond her years.

“Go on a journey. A man away from home need feel no shame.”

“Natural. Bizarre. It’s like this girl herself is the journey with no clear destination.”

“You’re Freedom Itself.”

The couple took the stage. The song started out slow, sensual, peaceful. It reminded him slightly of the song Y/N taught him.

Before, predictably, Kaori brought her wild, fast paced playing back, bringing liveliness to the performance. It started beautifully, but just as the music seemed to portray some kind of descent, Kousei lost sense of the notes, the sound distorted even for them, listening, as if they were Kousei, only able to faintly hear Kaori while the rest sounded muffled, strangled out by water. When they were allowed to hear the sound again, it was off, it sounded harsh and jarring, out of sync. Not at all pleasant.

Considering the earlier mentioned problems, he should have known this wasn’t going to be a perfect and completely enjoyable performance. It was grating, and while he understood the emotional significance of seeing Kousei give up halfway through, his ears were a little grateful by that point.

The surprise was seeing Kaori stop as well. He’d thought perhaps something would urge Kousei to start playing again, but he hadn’t expected Kaori to stop in the process. Beside him, Y/N seemed to be biting on her thumbnail, her brows furrowed as she watched the screen in concern, a frown on her face, leg shifting restlessly around on the couch as she suddenly curled closer to Levi, directly against his side, oblivious to the surprised look he shot her because she was so focused with what was happening on the screen.

“Maybe there’s only a dark road up ahead. But you still have to believe and keep going. Believe that the stars will light your path, even a little bit.”

Kaori began to play again, the sound of just the violin playing on its own sounding lonely and out of place, especially when he knew there should be a piano playing with it. All they needed was for Kousei to play again. Would he? No excuses, Kaori needed his support, and Levi found himself silently judging Kousei, mentally pushing him to help her, to play, because that was what she needed from him.

”So what was it that you saw in me?”

“But you have me! Look up, and look at me. Look at me.”

Kousei starting to play again was a relief, even if it wasn’t quite right at first. After a bit of inner reflection, some time where they spent listening to the underwater sounds, it all faded away, and a soft scene of a mother and son filled the screen. The mother’s softly sung lullaby was soothing, and as it shifted to a scene of the sky, Levi’s eyes widened at the brilliant beauty it was, the range of color, of blues and whites and even some purples and pinks. How it sparkled and shimmered, stirring up emotions he didn’t know he’d buried somewhere inside him as he suddenly felt small again, curled up in a nest of soft warmth, staring out a small window up towards the sky high above him for the first time, gazing in wonder at the stars and moon that glittered high above him.

Words from one of the many times Y/N had played the piano for him drifted to his mind. How she had perceived her music had struck some kind of chord with him, even if he wasn’t saying anything--even when he realized he had no words to describe what he was feeling listening to her play that single song. He remembered how she’d told him that the point, what made music with her time, was how it could communicate what couldn’t be said with mere words.

The music shifted, and Kousei finally began to play, and the sound was enrapturing. There were no words--it could only be felt, what was happening between the boy at the piano and the girl with the violin.

Could he find a violin in his world? Could he learn to play it, so he could play with Y/N like Kousei played with Kaori? Would they manage to produce something similar, something wonderful like that? What would it feel like? What would the sound between them be? What would it say?

”I can hear your sound.”

So caught up in his thoughts, in the raw emotion and the music that had just enraptured them both, Levi was caught off guard when the mood took another shift.

He tensed, hand gripping the back of the couch a little harder as the sound faded away into an echo as Kaori suddenly collapsed. The hairs on the back of his neck seemed to raise, warning him of something incoming, even though there was no physical threat. He had a bad feeling, suddenly, seeing Kaori’s paler form in the hospital, seeing Kousei’s disbelieving look, the way all of her face wasn’t visible during certain key answers. It put dread inside him over what was happening with her, where this would go. A brief moment of happiness...but what did it mean in the long run? What did it matter, if it was going to be ripped so harshly away, anyway?

“It was everything to you, and you’re trying to rip that away by force. As if you were plucking off your limbs. That’s why it hurts too much for you to bear.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to forget? No, not a chance. Because you and I are living for that moment.”

“I won’t forget. I won’t forget, even if I die.”

“Thank you.”

The mood of the show mellowed drastically, far more serious notes seeping into the air around them as Kousei and those around him were faced with far more serious matters than who liked who, and music competitions. The competitions seemed to be fading into the background, a mere backdrop to the true story.

Ah…

He might be seeing it now.

There was more to this tale than just playing in competitions.

And he had the feeling he was going to be facing some...difficult scenes. Not the kind of gristly scenes of the everyday Underground. The personal, emotional kind. He was already getting flashes of past events, old emotions stirring this early on. What would come next? How deep was this show going to dig to bring out emotions or thoughts he didn’t even know he was keeping buried?

Y/N shifted again, now blatantly sidled up beside him, head leaning slightly to the side, coming to rest very lightly on his shoulder. Levi stilled, pulled entirely from his thoughts, both of them seeming to hold the position to see what the other would do.

She didn’t pull away.

Neither did he.

Her head leaned a little more heavily against his shoulder, and she got more comfortable in her position next to him. Levi relaxed, letting her do as she pleased, silently grateful for the companionable warmth her presence beside him seemed to be offering him, allowing the scarier thoughts to temporarily be soothed and chased away. It helped that the story was shifting towards the more light-hearted as well, as Kaori and Kousei began to prepare for a piano competition.

“Before your fingers touch the keys, you must determine in your mind how you’re going to play it. Why do you play the piano? Is it for your sake? For someone else’s sake? How do you want to play this piece?”

Levi turned his head slightly to look at Y/N, curiosity stirred up in his mind as Kaori grilled Kousei for his mental imagery while he played. “What about you? What do you think of when you play the piano?” he asked her.

“Hm?” she asked, pulled for the first time out of the show as she turned slightly to meet his gaze, surprised by the inquiry. “I...don’t know. It depends on the moment. Usually it’s memories, though. Certain songs make me think of certain people, usually memories with that person. Maybe something I want to do or say to them? I haven’t thought of that much before...usually I just...do it. And I tend to get lost in what I’m doing, too. I guess that’s part of the reason why I haven’t thought of it much before.”

Levi continued to look at her even as she turned her attention back to the show, barely holding back a question that bubbled up inside him.

Have you ever thought of me?

She was teaching him to play the piano, right? What would his mental imagery be when he played?

While Levi got his quick question in and mulled over his own thoughts once more, the mood shifted to something more serious in the show again.

Kaori was worried she was being too pushy, that Kousei might resent him for forcing him into the position he was in, now. That she was being too hard on him. And something that they said resonated with him, because of recent events.

“You’re suffering because of me. I’m sorry.”

Levi saw Y/N in front of him in his mind’s eye. Her eyes were downcast, lips pressed together, shoulders slightly hunched, and she was on the verge of tears after his barbed words expressing how shitty this situation was for him, how it teased him with what he could never have. Did she blame herself, for him being pulled into her world, always around her for a brief while before he was kicked back?

But again, she’d been right. Even if it was brief, that didn’t mean the time he spent here with her was worthless. It still meant something to him, and it still brought him some comfort and, oddly enough, a sense of security. From the very first time they’d met, she’d provided him with somewhere he could truly feel safe and cared for.

“It was you who swept away all the dust. For sweeping away the dust that had collected on my body...thank you. For encountering me.”

The more hints the story dropped about Kaori’s health, the more worried Levi became about the turn this story might take. He was bracing for impact, a small frown on his face as he saw the pile of medicine Kaori was carrying around with her at the competition. Kousei’s musical rivals didn’t register so much with him in the previous two chapters, because he was still so focused on what was happening with Kousei and Kaori.

Y/N had gotten up at one point by now to get a drink, bringing back a water for him to sip on as they continued the story, time passing by without either of their knowledge of just how long they’d been sitting here. Even Levi, usually so much more active, was content to sit here and watch, hardly noticing his inactivity as he drank up every scene, every word, some ringing out through his mind, others falling into place as narrative importance, worry and elation and nostalgia, as well as so much more, all stirred together inside him, Y/N curled up like a kitten at his side, his arm still leaning against the back of the couch, his hand resting softly on her shoulder.

However, while he and Y/N were falling into a position of ease, the story seemed to be starting to shift more to the relationship between Kousei and his mother, and what happened to her. Kaori was getting worse, it seemed, and they were digging into a relationship that felt, in certain ways, similar to what Levi had gone through, and not too long ago, either, now that he was forced to look at it. It made him...uncomfortable, to say the least, but he wasn’t saying anything--he needed to see where this story was headed, with how invested he was at this point. And even if it got personal, he thought he might be able to sit and endure it all the same.

”My mom’s coming from the hospital to see me perform...so you see, in order to make Mom well again, in order to make her happy, I’m gonna play my very best as a gift!”

The first hit actually made him flinch. It was slight, but it was there, and Y/N might have caught it--he wasn’t expecting it, not from the tone, or what had just been discussed, or the way the scene changed so rapidly from the cheers of the audience after little Kousei finished playing his best for his mother to the slap across his face from the ailing woman. He suddenly felt tense, his hand still on Y/N’s shoulder and his expression suddenly unreadable as the hits kept coming, making something dark and angry well up inside him as Kousei was hit hard enough to draw blood against a backdrop of the abuse he’d been suffering the entire time.

Perhaps Y/N hadn’t caught it, because she was flinching as well, and her reaction was far more open on her face, eyes watering with near-tears, a slight shake in her body, and the occasional, shaking breath.

”All I wanted was for you to get better. All I wanted was for you to be happy. And yet...I wish you would just die.”

“That was the last time I said anything to my mom.”

Levi’s grip tightened on Y/N’s shoulder, but neither of them said a word, a grimness in the air as they continued to watch the story in front of them that had started so colorful but was taking a darker turn rather quickly.

Levi scowled slightly at the switch to such an upbeat little song at the sudden end of the chapter, which would be followed by another upbeat song at the beginning of the next.

“These ‘intros’ and ‘outros’ are deceptively cheerful,” Levi criticized.

“What’s a good story without some struggle?” Y/N replied, though she briefly untangled herself from her position at Levi’s side and wiggled off the couch. “Though, I think I’m going to go grab some tissues. I’m starting to think there’s going to be some really sad or heartfelt stuff coming up. Tell me when it’s back on if I’m still missing!” she added before darting away, leaving Levi to sigh quietly to himself and look up at the ceiling, keeping track of the show in front of him as he waited for her to run off and come back with a colorful box, squirming back into place beside him and letting his hand return to her shoulder as she placed the box next to her on the couch, sighing contently.

“The show must go on!” she insisted, face devoid of the strong emotion they’d been sharing just a few moments ago. She settled next to him with a soft sigh, the sight of Kousei struggling at the piano returning where the previous chapter left off.

They watched him struggle against the ghost of his mother, trying to force himself to play through it, to play even though he couldn’t hear, even as the sound grated on them. Watched as he slowly gave up, until he stopped entirely before the song was even over, just like he had with Kaori.

Part of him had expected Kousei to have some kind of revelation just before he quit and push through, but he’d really stopped. Now it just remained to be seen if he could start again. Of course, after his performance with Kaori, they knew he was disqualified. But would he find a reason to play anyway, like she had?

”Even the you that’s here inside me, won’t let me give up. That day, I wonder. What did you play for?”

Levi felt the ghost of her fingers on his again, unaware that he was tapping the keys against the skin of her shoulder at the memory.

Once more, the sound changed as Kousei found his reason to play. The girl who’d changed his world from monotone to color, who dragged him into a whirlwind of life without giving him the chance to think twice about it.

“Just one person matters to me. Only you matter. Thank you...Will it reach her? I hope it reaches her.”

”Your hidden emotions. The you that you’ve never known. The piano drags out everything…”

Levi’s gaze once more was unfocused on the screen as he was swept away in a sea of his own thoughts, thinking back to the times he’d listened to Y/N play. What had he been hearing those days? What would he hear in her playing in the future? If he put enough effort into learning to play as she tried to teach him...could it help him communicate some of the things he struggled to say? It was at least worth giving it a shot.

And he would be sure to pay closer attention in the future to see what he could hear, what he may not be aware of.

The pacing lulled into something more relaxed once more, a brief reprieve after the emotions that were just thrown at them, allowing him and Y/N to talk a bit more, both of them keeping one eye on the subtitles even as they made little comments about what they’d heard so far. The unspoken love triangle? Maybe it was a triangle. The romantic feelings were crisscrossed and all over the place between this group of friends. They commented on their observations about Kousei and Kaori, what they thought was going to become of the two as they watched, whether Kaori or Tsubaki would end up the one with him in the future.

Music was another thing they talked about, obviously. How they wanted to hear Kousei and Kaori play together again--and were excited they had the chance to with the upcoming concert. Y/N also expressed how she loved Chopin pieces, and as a result was happy about how many Chopin pieces were in the show so far and was hoping to hear more. She also mentioned that Love’s Sorrow, the song they were working on now for the concert, was a beautiful piece--mournful, obviously, but beautiful. She even offered to help him learn it when he got more used to the piano if he wanted to.

Levi was a little distracted, though, by the further warning signs that something was going to happen to Kaori. In the same stroke that he contemplated how she had a skill for seeing the beauty in the world, like Y/N tended to do for him, she said something ominous that further solidified a growing suspicion that Levi was keeping in mind.

“You know, I’m not always going to be around to help you.”

As worried about Kaori as that line made Levi for the context of the show, it also reminded him of his own situation with Y/N. He helped when he could, but he was absent so often...and it worked both ways. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself when he was on his own, but Y/N he worried about. What if something serious happened when he wasn’t around to help her? Would she be all right? Would she be able to take care of herself until he could be here to help her?

It was another line that resonated with him, another one that was going to burn in his mind and make him brood over their situation. This show was rife with them, and it had his emotions all over the place, despite his outward calm posture.

He had no way of knowing just how strongly the next chapter was going to hit him.

He was as riled up as Kousei after hearing that smart mouthed kid claim that the music Kaori made was just disastrous noise. If he’d ever heard someone say that about the music Y/N played, he was liable to sock them in the mouth. Honestly, after that comment, he’d thought that the focus was going to be on Kaori again, even with all the recent focus on Kousei’s mother. That misconception was quickly fixed, though, when the chapter began with a flashback to Kousei’s mother and how he became a pianist, further reinforced when Kousei started to play and they were given the first glimpses into his thought process, and what his new mentor--his mother’s old friend--was thinking.

Kousei’s mother’s favorite song, Kousei’s lullaby.

”Would she have played it like this?”

Kousei was curled up against the wall in the darkness of a room with no one else, knees pulled up to his chest, head buried, trying to shut out the world, the woman who’d known and been close to Kousei’s mother finding him in the darkness as Kousei cried out for his mother, for someone to help him, save him. Levi tensed, going completely still beside Y/N with his gaze riveted on the scene in front of him.

”That son of ours is about to bid you a last farewell.”

”Will it reach her?”

Levi’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he attempted to keep a lid on the emotions that were trying to rise inside him again.

“After I’m gone, what’s going to become of Kousei? Will he be able to earn a living?”

There was a pressure on his chest making it impossible to breathe and a forceful pain in his throat that was pushing right at the back, like there was something stuck there that wanted to come out but couldn’t, because he wouldn’t let it no matter how much it pushed.

”What a terrible mother. There’s nothing I can leave that boy...”

His breathing ground to a halt except for the barest, shaking whisper through his nose.

“I wish I could’ve stayed with him longer...Will my treasure ever find happiness?”

Eyes fixed on the screen, Levi suddenly felt the overwhelming need to bolt, could feel his fingers and legs twitch like he was about to without warning, but the music was reaching a crescendo, and he thought maybe, just maybe, he might be able to make it through this, even as the pain in his throat and the pressure on his chest seemed to grow more crushing, more painful, so much harder to contain.

”Do you think it reached my mom? The way I played my very best? Do you think it reached Mom?”

“You two are connected, aren’t you? Of course it reached her.”

Kousei broke on screen, and Levi suddenly realized he wasn’t going to make it to the end of the episode. He needed to bolt now or he might shatter.

Levi tapped Y/N on the shoulder to get her to move, not daring to look at her and possible see her a crying mess already at the emotional scene. He gave a brief, “I need to take a shit,” that he managed to get out in a steady voice past the pain in his throat by some miracle, and then stood up, the brief statement her only warning to shift before his movement accidentally dumped her on the ground. He didn’t run to the bathroom, that would be too much of a tell. Instead, he got up calmly and made his way to the bathroom, not hurrying his step until he was out of sight and already halfway up the stairs.

By the time he reached the bathroom, he couldn’t hold it back any further, safely locked behind the bathroom door with the water in the sink running seconds before he finally choked on the feeling in his throat and chest. A strangled sound left him, and he leaned over the sink, trying to catch his breath even as his body tried to make him sob. His breaths hitched painfully, a slight shake in his hands before they clenched the edge of the sink, shoulders hunched and teeth grinding painfully as a soft whine escaped his rigid body.

Y/N was waiting for him. He couldn’t stay up here forever, but he at least had to get ahold of himself before he headed back down there. Out of stubborn determination, Levi tried to gulp in air and steady his breath and hands. Once he had a strong enough hold of his breathing, he cupped his hands under the water and splashed some of it onto his face to help calm himself down.

Only when he felt his composure had returned, Levi dried off his face and hands, then carefully made his way back downstairs, well-aware that the chapter wasn’t even over, and there were still several chapters left--nine, according to Y/N.

A lot could happen in nine chapters.

Levi calmly returned to his seat on the couch, Y/N giving him a quizzical, examining look before she resumed the position they’d been in before resuming the show in the exact spot he’d left--thankfully, it was after Kousei’s breakdown, so he wouldn’t have to see any of that again.

That didn’t, however, mean that he was in the clear. No, now that they had put a neat little bow on Kousei’s struggle with his mental image of his mother, they were moving on to the one who had been concerning Levi since one of the first few episodes.

”There’s an ever present sorrow hanging over Arima’s music...Then it’s a demon’s path he must walk. His growth is spurred by sorrow. If he walks that path, he might have to lose someone to move forward.”

Kaori was in the hospital again, and Levi felt the uneasiness and dread about the direction this show was taking grow substantially. Especially as Kousei ran inside the room and saw Kaori in the exact position his mother had been in. The way this show was starting to dig at some subconscious and deeply buried pains and fears of his that he would rather keep far from the front of his mind, but it kept plodding on, and he felt far too invested now to just leave it where it was. The curiosity and need to know what happened next would eat away at him if he asked Y/N to stop it there--plus, asking that might tip her off that something about it was upsetting him, considering at this point he couldn’t claim he was bored with it.

”You’re gonna be fine, right?”

“I can see you again, right?”

“You won’t leave me like my mom did, right?”

At this point, the focus on Tsubaki and Kousei’s relationship was a much needed break from the reality and darker questions being asked with Kaori and Kousei right now, questions that he had asked himself from time to time regarding Y/N, questions and concerns he didn’t want to think about for his own sanity. What was happening with Tsubaki was more lighthearted, less grim, even if it was confusing and brought up even more questions to ask himself. After all, Tsubaki was being faced with the question of how she felt about Kousei--the boy who had been her friend since they were little, who she was falling in love with no matter how much she tried to deny it, who she had always been beside and wanted to be beside forever.

It made him wonder. He and Y/N were friends--had been for years now. She was there for him during his darkest moments, and he’d been there for some of her scariest moments. Yes, they were friends, but...was it starting to go deeper than that? Did he feel closer to her, somehow?

Her hands had felt warm against his when they played the piano together, pressed against one another with his arms around each other so they wouldn’t get in each other’s way. His skin had tingled where she touched him when she’d taken care of and cleaned him up after that fight. He felt comfortable sitting beside her now, with her leaning against him, her head on his shoulder, despite how borderline intimate it felt.

Had she felt something similar? They hadn’t really looked at each other in these moments--they’d been avoiding looking at each other whenever something like that happened, so he had no idea. Was she aware of just how comfortable he was around her? How different that was for him? Did she have any clue how important she was becoming to him, how big a part of his life she had gradually become despite the very real distance and difference between their two worlds.

This entire time he’d been drawing similarities between them and Kousei and Kaori, when perhaps the comparison should have been with Tsubaki and Kousei.

It sure as hell might make him feel better, considering he was rather sure she had a terminal illness. After growing up in the Underground and with the experiences he had so far, fatal illnesses were something he could spot, especially when there were as many warning signs as there were for Kaori. She only seemed to be getting worse--he was pretty sure she’d been told she was going to die, even though there was no audio for the moment to confirm it. Since the first episode, Kaori had been centered on making an impression, about living on in the memories and hearts of others--she was clearly afraid of disappearing without a trace after she was gone.

Still, amid all the aching and pain, there was still flashes of hope as Kaori struggled against her illness, and more moments that made him think about the relationship between himself and the girl next to him--more damn connections between them and Kousei and Kaori, which did nothing to sooth his nerves and fears he didn’t even know he had.

“Why are the sounds you make so beautiful I think I’m going to cry?”

“That devotion you showed. Her heart had turned grey, and you gave it color.”

Had he managed to give her what she gave him? He felt like he didn’t have anything to give, coming from the dreadful world he did. She was always the one bringing color into his life, had he ever brought color to hers? Would he ever be able to? His world, his life, was ugly and dark and probably tragic. What could he offer her out of that?

”Did I reach him?”

“You don’t have the time to see me.”

“It’s not about time--I want to see you.”

The chapter started so calmly--discussion about the next round of the competition, Kaori continuing her struggle to get better, Tsubaki finally admitting her feelings for Kousei in a way. Levi even made a quip about how Watari and Kaori really needed to stop dragging him along as the awkward extra in their group, practically rubbing it in his face even if it was unintentional. There was even another moment of resonance with something Tsubaki said to Kousei.

“So you won’t lose your way, so you won’t have regrets, I’ll stay by your side forever.”

Still, he should have seen it coming. It shouldn’t have surprised him, considering he was well aware of the cruel shittiness of the world, even if Y/N wasn’t. All this time he’d spent bracing himself with the hints of just how bad Kaori’s illness was, the ominous lines of hers. All the lightheartedness and self-discovery of the past several episodes came crashing down with the emergency with Kaori as, from what Levi could see even though they clearly had far more advanced medicine that Levi knew nothing about, Kaori had some kind of close call, a brush with death, right in front of Kousei. And then with the damn cat getting hit and dying literally moments later, Kousei having to wash the blood off of his hands and breaking down in the wake of everything that was happening. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still ached to see it.

And there were two chapters left. Realistically, he doubted that Kaori was going to recover in two chapters after all this time. By now, he was certain that she was going to die by the end of the story.

She wasn’t even gone yet, and Kousei had already given up. Levi had seen plenty of people reach that point. No fight left, no will to move. Kousei was right back in the position he’d been in at the start, the impending loss of Kaori the final nail in his coffin, his breaking point.

“Why does it have to end up this way? I can’t...go on. No more...I can’t try anymore.”

He hadn’t hit his breaking point--he hoped he never reached that point. But he was sure even he had one, even if he wasn’t sure where his limit was.

Levi blinked at the white fluttering from the sky on screen. A novel sight he couldn’t ignore or just accept. Snow, Kaori called it.

So that was what it looked like. One of the many things he’d heard about but hadn’t seen…

“Have you seen snow before, Levi? Since you live Underground,” Y/N suddenly asked from where she was curled up into his side, head turned to look at him curiously. Levi shook his head no, and she hummed. “You’ll have to show up some time in the winter so I can show you all kinds of awesome things you can do when it snows. It’s cold, but it’s fun. And everything looks so clean and pure...my favorite things are the trees encapsulated in ice,” she said with a wistful sigh, eventually quieting down as the scene on the screen continued to develop.

Maybe one day. But he would have to come through not only when it was winter, but on a day that there was snow, and he had no control over when he blipped over into her world.

Blipped, blip...her word for when Levi flickered into and out of her world. Clearly, it had caught on even in his mind.

“The people I care about keep leaving me...I’m going to be left all alone.”

Inwardly, Levi felt himself flinch, and that desire to bolt was trying to rear its head again, the desire for her to shut it off and spare him these comments that kept digging into the darker corners of himself, the weakness he kept hidden away for no one to see.

“But you have me. But you have me.”

For the first time, Levi felt Y/N’s hand give his little squeeze on his knee as Kaori repeated her sentiment to Kousei.

Perhaps the feelings were mutual. Maybe he wasn’t the only one drowning in emotions on the inside and drawing parallels while they watched this show, if she was giving him a little squeeze after those words. After he registered that he had felt it, and he hadn’t imagined it, he gave her shoulder a small squeeze in return.

“I’m going to struggle as hard as I can. Struggle, struggle, struggle, like there’s no tomorrow.”

“You gave me this desire to cling to the time that I spent with you. Aren’t you going to struggle to? We’re so good at struggling.”

Hell if that wasn’t the story of his life so far, right there.

Collectively, the two of them held their breath, watching as, after Kousei declared how useless it was for him to even try to play in the state he was in right now, Kaori got to her feet on her own, and the sound of the violin softly flickered towards them from the screen. It was like the music was from a dream, her imaginary violin ethereal, Kaori lit up by a flurry of snow as she played to a crescendo and smiled at Kousei.

“See, miracles can happen just like that.”

Shaking, legs trembling, sweating, collapsed into Kousei’s arms with a breathless laugh, clinging to him like a source of comfort. It wasn’t her reciting of the things she knew about Kousei, or what she wished she knew, that drew a response from him, but her heartfelt pleas with Kousei as he held her in her arms.

“I’m scared. I’m scared! Don’t leave me all alone!”

That was why it was familiar. That was how Y/N had held him when…

And perhaps the reason he’d lashed out when he’d found out about how fleeting this world was for him had been because…

Levi shifted, and it was only when Y/N started to pull away did he realize he’d been shifting to get up and walk away, to bolt. When she fixed him with that questioning look again, not-yet-spilled tears in her eyes from the emotion of the scene, her hand still fisted in his shirt, it brought him back to what was happening in the present, and he shook his head as if to dismiss the movement as he sat back down, relieved when the scene changed again.

Considering it was going to the competition and Kaori’s surgery at the same time, he doubted he was going to get much of a reprieve before the emotions hit again. Kousei was still a mess, though it was a miracle he’d at least shown up to the competition, but even watching him was worrisome, wondering if he was going to break at the piano again after all this progress he’d made throughout the show, everyone watching in concern in the show and on the couch.

“I made you remember something you don’t want to remember…”

“I won’t forget, even if I die…”

“You can just forget about it all, like you’ve pressed the reset button…”

“I guess maybe we never should've met, huh?”

Levi had to close his eyes for a moment after that one, sucking in a sharp breath. It was like it had come right out of his denial of their entire situation, how angry he’d been, the pain it had caused, how for a few moments, he’d felt like it would have been better if he could forget it all, if they had never met, because then he wouldn’t know about what he could never have. His heart ached painfully, the words reverberating not in his mind, but in his bones as the pain in his throat already seemed to be returning.

He opened his eyes, and on screen, Kousei started to break down again, face in his hands, on the brink of tears seated at the piano, on stage in front of everyone once again.

Tsubaki sneezed, and after a few moments of reflecting, after realizing how many people he knew were there...Kousei finally began to play, the notes reverberating deep inside his chest in a full, resonating sound. Something about it made him nostalgic, but also so...it was so…

“Bursting with such mournful color.”

The chapter suddenly came to an end mid performance, which startled Levi--especially when Y/N darted forward so suddenly to grab the remote and quickly jump to the next one, immediately snapping back into his side, clutching to his clothes like her life depended on it, curled into a ball as he realized for the first time that tissue box was suddenly right in front of her, easily accessible.

The last episode.

Considering the set-up, neither of them were going to get through this last part unscathed emotionally.

It started from the beginning of the piece this time, the commentary being made by the onlookers and Kousei different this time, centered entirely on Kousei after the very beginning. Levi and Y/N were both enraptured by the performance though, holding to one another on the couch with gazes fixed forward, completely still, even their breathing slight as they paid full attention to every word, and let the music pull them in deeper into the emotional symphony Kousei was creating with just the piano.

“I’m so scared...Somebody…”

“But you have me.”

“I’m not alone. From the moment that we meet someone else, none of us can ever be alone. We’re all connected.”

Levi’s grip tightened slightly on Y/N’s shoulder again, and he felt her grip tighten in return.

“Don’t leave me all alone.”

“Dummy, you have me.”

“Inside me...you exist.”

Y/N nuzzled into his side like a cat, and he thought he felt his shirt starting to get damp. He ignored it, keeping his grip on her firm and steady, staying still beneath her as he stared stalwartly at the screen, even as the emotions were starting to stir violently around inside him.

”No way am I going to leave you all alone. Reach her. Reach her. Reach her. Reach her.”

The scenery changed entirely, like Kousei was playing in the sky amid a shower of colors, floating around like leaves that autumn day when he and Y/N had jumped into the piles and sent them scattering into the air. Kaori’s whispered ‘Thank you’ as Kousei carried her back down the stairs sent a shiver down his spine, especially when Kousei of the present reacted, and turned his head to see Kaori materializing beside him, violin in hand.

Beside him, there was suddenly a whine from Y/N, and a rather large sniffle, as well as that damp feeling on his clothes starting to spread. She trembled slightly beneath his arm and hand, and he realized she was starting to cry rather heavily, her face partially buried in his side.

The music was jarring, disorienting, suddenly intense and tragic as Kousei closed his eyes, barely holding back tears.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

And there it was.

Kaori’s rich violin playing joined into Kousei’s suddenly mournful and tragic playing, and Levi realized that they were witnessing the last time the two would get to play together. It couldn’t happen again in body, but at least in spirit. Words weren’t needed for this moment. Nothing was said between the characters on the screen, and not a word was spoken between Levi and Y/N. She was continuing to cry into his side, with Levi starting to semi-awkwardly rub her shoulder to try and comfort her even as his own heart seemed to be pounding painfully at the sight in front of him, every note piercing him deeper than he thought possible with the raw emotion behind and pure weight of this single moment. All there was at this moment in time, was him, Y/N, and the music being created on the stage in front of them between Kaori and Kousei, one last time.

A sob broke past Y/N’s control as the colorful day turned into a rich night, and Kaori stopped playing. Levi held his breath, watching as transfixed on the scene as Kousei was transfixed on Kaori, the music softening for the briefest moment before it started to turn slow, mournful, and tragic again.

”Wait...please don’t go!”

As Kousei started to beg Kaori to do all of these things with him again, good and bad, Levi felt the pressure on his chest return, the burn in his eyes and the clench in his jaw, the pain in his throat. Memories of his own were flickering before his eyes in place of what Kousei begged of Kaori.

A small hand offering a still-warm roll. A splash of cool water to the face with shrieks and giggles filling the air. The security of being able to lean comfortably against a warm back with the sun shining down from above, hands gripping his legs and his arms wrapped around the girl who carried him home on her back. The cool taste of ice cream as they leaned against the brick store. A gentle hand rubbing soft circles on his back as he slipped in and out of lucid thought in his feverish state. The sound of hope amid darkness that they managed to create together despite his crude piano playing. Her hand even now clenched tightly in his shirt seeking comfort, like when he’d led her home in the dark through the desert.

His hand was stretched out before him, pulled along by the girl that suddenly disappeared when he closed his eyes. He tried to reach a little further, as if his fingertips could press past some veil between his world and hers, so he could reach her even for another moment. The warmth and the softness of the comfort she wrapped him in evaporated into smoke between his fingers, disappearing in translucent curls, leaving him with nothing to hold, the weight of her presence suddenly disappearing.

What if one day he didn’t come back?

What if one day it all just...ended? Without any warning? The only sign that he would never return the passage of time and gradual loss of hope?

“Don’t go, don’t go, please don’t go, please don’t leave me behind!”

Y/N was sobbing openly into his side now, but she didn’t move to stop the show--she kept watching it. Levi was unaware of the fact that his hand was shaking against her shoulder, all of his effort on keeping the emotions bottled inside him as he watched Kaori disappear before Kousei’s eyes in a flurry of petals, swept away by an indifferent wind.

The rest of the last chapter seemed to pass by in a blur, Levi spending most of that time trying to work his way down from the emotions that scene had stirred up in him, glancing over at Y/N to see a collection of tissues around her while her gaze remained fixed forward, still a blubbering mess over the events that were unfolding on screen. Shards of Kaori’s letter made it through to Levi, certain fragments sticking with him in the moment, others slowly settling in likely to make an impact on him later.

“I want Kousei to play the piano for me!”

He understood that sentiment. He loved listening to Y/N play for him, it was one of the many reasons why he brought it up so often. Sure, it was nice she was trying to teach him to play, but the true moment of enjoyment for him was when she played for him.

“Isn’t it funny how the most unforgettable scenes can be so trivial?”

“None of it was trivial.”

No, none of it was. From playing card games in her room to playing tag on the playground, or eating frozen treats on the steps while they played simple games with their hands. Every little moment was one Levi kept stored away, a secret trove of memories just for him and her, something bright and...something that the Underground couldn’t corrupt, because it couldn’t reach or touch this world or the girl at his side.

“Was I able to live inside your heart? Do you think you’ll remember me at least a little? You better not hit reset. Don’t forget me, okay? That’s a promise, okay? I’m glad it’s you, after all.”

Like Y/N said, just because the moments were fleeting, didn’t mean they didn’t matter. Even if they stopped one day, for whatever reason...at least he would have everything that had come before, the memories, the moments that nothing could take away. He didn’t think she would want him to try and forget, anyway. And a part of him wouldn’t want her to forget him, either. Unlike everything else in his life so far, he wanted this good thing to last, one way or another.

“Will I reach you? I hope I can reach you.”

This time, when his mind procured the image of his hand outstretched in front of him, trying to catch the disappearing back of the girl in front of him, fingers finding nothing but air, he let his hand squeeze slightly against Y/N’s shoulder once more, reminding himself she was right here in his arms right now, and not to take that for granted. Maybe sometimes she’d be out of reach, but right now, she was right here. She wasn’t always out of reach. He’d just have to make each moment he was here count for something.

Thankfully, she already seemed pretty good at making that happen, so he felt like he wouldn’t have to worry about it too much. She was always taking him by the hand to have him run with her wherever she wanted to go and explore, and so far, she hadn’t made him regret following her on her little adventures.

She made his life colorful.

“Thank you for being my friend, Levi.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea

Through The Looking Glass Tags: @artist-bby @kaz2y5-pie @tartheyes @super-peace-fangirl @huntersbunker @nefelimalfoy @soft-levi-girl-blog @honeygivemeachainsaw @regalillegal @sugas-daddy7 @cathyannecookie @chaoticshepardplaid @roayaloveslife @sanrioclit

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blue-haired-grace · 4 years ago

Note

Hey friend!!! For the OC asks there were sooo many good ones! For these you can do a specific member of spark squad, a mix, or all of them. Happy to learn additional info about any of them ❤️

14, 17, 23/24(these two are similar, whichever inspires you), 30, 35, 36, 40

Ok that was still a lot, whichever you have inspiration on feel free to answer! I was thrilled when you mentioned me in this one and am excited to see what you come up with!! ☺️

Okay, so I tag you in an ask game so you can ask me questions, and then I take forever to respond. I’m sorry, Jay; I really did mean to get to this sooner.

To make up for this, and because I like torturing myself, I’m gonna answer these questions for all of Spark Squad, except Duke (‘cause he do be dead :'( ).

I know most other people don’t really care about Spark Squad, so due to that and length, I’ll be putting this under the cut so it doesn’t clog up the dashboards of others.

14. Does your OC do anything, “just for aesthetic”? Or are they completely practical in everything?

Ghost: He’s actually the most practical, in this case, out of the four of them. He spent a lot of time being weighed down by his insecurities, so he spent a long time trying to catch-up to his squad and didn’t really consider himself to have time for anything else.

Morale: He’s in the middle of the spectrum, although he leans more towards being practical. He’s just not so much into doing something purely for aesthetic; he can go for it if the others convince him, though.

Pillow/Throwpillow: He’s also in the middle of the spectrum; he just tends to lean more towards doing something just for aesthetic. He can be freaking dramatic when he wants to be.

Sketch: This surprises a lot of people, but Sketch is the most likely to do something purely for aesthetic. He likes to sketch and, on good days, would even consider himself an artist. He knows how to balance it with practicality, though.

17. How prepared is your OC? Ready for the worst no matter what or completely lost in every situation? Would they have a medkit when it was needed? Would they have an umbrella if it rains?

Honestly, these guys have been trained since birth to be the best soldiers possible. They are all extremely prepared for the worst to happen in most situations. If I had to give a situation where each one of them would be the most likely to be completely lost:

Pillow/Throwpillow: Emotional problems

Sketch: Not being in control

Morale: When he can’t find a positive in a bad situation

Ghost: When his insecurities of not being good enough get the best of him.

23. What is the most annoying sound to your OC? What’s the most pleasant? Is there any reason?

Sketch: He loves the sound of pencil on paper, or whatever the equivalent is in the Star Wars universe. Art and drawing relaxes him and it has given him many great memories. The most annoying sound would be rain. Once when he was younger, one of his pictures ended up outside in the torrential rain of Kamino and it was completely destroyed. As he picked up his picture and stared the ruins, all he could hear was the rain pounding around him.

Pillow/Throwpillow: Pillow on the other hand loves the sound of the rain. He hates quietness and it fills him with a sense of dread; the sound of rain prevents utter silence much of the time. He hates the sound of crying, though. Most of the time, he doesn’t know how to help a brother when they’re crying so he just lets them use him as a pillow and hopes for the best.

Morale: Like Pillow, he hates the sound of crying, although for different reasons. It usually means that a brother has gotten lost in their negative emotions, so they’re no longer trying to see the best in a situation. Since Morale is a mostly optimistic person, it hurts him to hear this sound (he’s better at dealing with it than Pillow). On the reverse, the sound of laughter is his favourite. It fills him with joy to hear proof that his brothers are happy and he’d do many things to get them to laugh.

Ghost: Honestly, Ghost hates constant noise. It overwhelms him and makes him want to scream. This can extend to the rain on Kamino, the snoring of brothers at night, and much more. He’s learned how to use this noise to his advantage, though, and it has made it easier for him to slip into the background unnoticed. He didn’t really get a favourite sound until he was in the Coruscant Guard, which was the sound of a massiff barking in joy. He found that he really likes these guys.

24. What smells bring back specific memories to your OC? What are those memories like?

Sketch: As orderly and organized as he is, he loathes the smell of something being absolutely clean or sterile. It reminds him too much of Kamino and the room he was in as they took Duke away. On the other hand, he loves the smell of nature. It reminds of the one time he was on a planet other than Kamino or Coruscant; he always wanted to get more missions off world.

Pillow/Throwpillow: The smell of paint does it for him. He doesn’t really have another smell that brings back memories; it’s just not something he focuses on. The smell of paint reminds him of when he was first allowed to paint his armour in Coruscant Guard red. This is overall a happy memory, but it’s mixed with how much he originally hated being assigned to the Coruscant Guard.

Morale: The smell of blood triggers a lot of memories for Morale. It reminds him of injuries on Kamino, injuries while in the Guard, having a knife slit his throat during a mission. Another smell is just that of a brother. It reminds him of hugs, cuddle piles, etc. Very fond memories for him…Though they become a bit bittersweet later on. :)

Ghost: The smell of alcohol reminds Ghost of 79’s; it’s not very pleasant for him to think about, which will be elaborated upon in your other ask. ;) He loves the smell of shampoo. It’s related to taking care of his hair, which is very relaxing to him.

30. What topics does your OC know the most about? Are these obvious or would these be surprising to others?

Sketch: Unsurprisingly, Sketch knows a lot about art, especially when he gets to Coruscant and can learn even more. Sketch is probably the most predictable out of his brothers, due to putting himself in the role of the older brother for so long.

Ghost: The first topic he knows a lot about is hair care. This isn’t really a surprise since his hair is so long; everyone just assumes he would have to know a lot to take care of it. The topic that no one really expects of him is animals. When he got to Coruscant, Ghost discovered he liked a lot of animals more than most people, so he promised himself he would learn everything about them that he could.

Morale: Like Sketch, Morale is pretty predictable as he is the designated youngest brother out of them. This tends to lead to people underestimating him and his knowledge though, so he has that advantage over Sketch. Not really surprising anyone, once reaching Coruscant, he tried educating himself as much as he could on mental health and coping mechanisms. Before on Kamino, it was mostly just empty words, regardless of how much he wanted to help. Something that surprised others was, after his throat was slit, how interested in medical knowledge he became. If something like that ever happened to a brother without a medic nearby, he wanted to be able to help. It actually helped him control his bad reactions to the smell of blood, as well.

Pillow/Throwpillow: With how much he enjoys being active, it’s not really a surprise how much he knows about fighting, weapons, exercise, etc. Something that surprised everyone, himself included, is how much he enjoyed learning about the foods in different cultures. It all started when he was guarding a senator and saw the food of their home world.

35. How easily does your OC get attached to things? Does everything have a sentimental value to them, or do they see nothing as more valuable than its practical use? What about with people/animals?

Sketch: Beyond art supplies and the pictures he draws, Sketch doesn’t really place sentimental value on objects. He’s also pretty neutral towards animals. He does get pretty attached towards people though, especially younger brothers. Once he had gotten settles into the Guard and was no longer a shiny, younger brothers began to notice the aura of “big brother” around him.

Pillow/Throwpillow: Other than pictures given to him by Sketch, Pillow doesn’t really value objects beyond its practical use. He doesn’t care much for animals, but he gives them a chance for Ghost. The same can be said for his relationship with people, too. He gets along with others, but he doesn’t get overly attached to people outside of his squad; he has to people in his squad, he doesn’t need anyone else.

Ghost: Like Pillow, the pictures Sketch gives him are really the only objects he gives sentimental value to. Once he gets to Coruscant, though, there is another object he gets attached to: a stuffed massiff. He gets really attached to animals. He feels they understand him better than most people. With people, he doesn’t really get attached. Despite growing up with them, it still took him a while to warm up to his squad. He’ll be polite and kind, but it would be way too long for him to become attached to someone outside of his squad.

Morale: Out of them all, he becomes the most attached to objects. He’s good at letting them go though, because, you know, Kamino. He likes animals, but it takes him a while to become attached to one. Morale very easily attaches himself to other people. He finds it the easiest to become friends with other and he feels every loss very deeply

36. How stubborn is your OC? Are they easily convinced of the opposite opinion, do they not agree but let it happen anyways? Or do they cause conflicts with their inability to budge in their decisions?

Sketch: He is the most stubborn. We haven’t really gotten to see it yet, but being in the position of older brother for so long and always being the one they went to when they needed help, not having that control was extremely weird when he was in the Coruscant Guard. It would actually cause a bit of trouble early on, but he worked on it.

Pillow/Throwpillow: He has a difficult time considering the emotions and conditions of others, so he tends to stick to his decision regardless of the consequences. It has caused trouble with his inability to change his mind, but he’s getting better at reflecting.

Morale: Morale would probably be the third most stubborn. This comes with his need to not be seen as weak, considering he classified as the youngest. This was also amplified when Duke died.

Ghost: He’s the least stubborn. Due to his insecurities during training, he spent so long changing his mind and tactics to get better. There are a few situations where he sticks to his guns, though, particularly when a brother is needlessly putting themselves down.

40. Are there any habits your OC has picked up from people around them? Do they know where they’re from? Does your OC try to stop themselves from doing it?

Sketch: He picked up the habit of using the Commander Voice. He picked this up from Fox, who he did look up to a lot in terms of work and dedication. He tries to stop himself from using it in the presence of superior officers, but will use it when people trust him to lead.

Ghost: Talking to the massiffs in the Guard. He picked this up from Sergeant Hound. He loves the massiffs and it doesn’t hurt anyone, so he keeps doing it.

Pillow/Throwpillow: The only habit he’s picked up is snapping his fingers when he calls someone over to him. He got this from one of the asshole senators he spent a lot of time around. He tries to stop himself from doing this.

Morale: He started tapping his foot when he gets anxious, something he picked up from Pillow. He doesn’t try to stop himself from doing this because his brothers find it hilarious. He picked up the habit of the Medic Voice and Look because when he was learning about medical knowledge, he would go to the medics and spent a lot of time around them. He tries to stop himself from doing this because he feels like he’s intruding on their job. Unbeknownst to him, the medics are laughing their asses of whenever he uses them on a brother and it terrifies them into going to see a medic.

Holy hell, is this was long enough? xD Thanks to anyone who stuck around with me for the ride. Hope you enjoy these, Jay! <3

From this ask game!

#ask game #spark squad #oc- sketch #oc- morale #oc- ghost #oc- pillow/throwpillow

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dawnwave16 · 5 years ago

Text

Whiplash

Ok first a little note here: 1) I know next to nothing about Asian culture so I have tried to be as respectful as possible while writing this, however, I probably got things wrong so please forgive me. 2) I have not been feeling well so everything feels a bit scattered in this story but I felt I should post it rather then delete the whole thing like I was planning on doing. 3) This is a messy one-shot and unlike my other stories I don't have any follow up head cannons for this so no amount of begging will get a sequal!

Marinette was excited, in less than 14 hours she would be landing in Singapore for her first visit since she was a little girl. Currently, she was sitting in the first-class lounge having completed all the preflight check-ins that she needed to do. Her sketchbook was on her lap and her phone was next to her as she was chatting to her cousin online about the plans for while she was there. She was so busying with what she was doing that she failed to notice when three other people walked into the flight lounge and one sat down next to her.

“Hey, Mari, what you doing here?”

Marinette jumped and her sketchbook fell to the floor, reaching to reclaim it she glanced to where the voice had come from. Adrien, of course, it was Adrien. She hadn't spoken to him much since Lila had joined her class but she still had her massive crush on him. How could she not? Sure he hadn't stood by her side as he's promised he would but with his father controlling almost everything in Adrien's life, it would have taken a miracle for him to be able to back her up publically. She did think that he was a little too much of a pacifist but nobody was perfect.

“Hi, Adrien, waiting for my flight to be announced. I'm visiting for one of my cousin's weddings. It's going to be absolutely amazing, provided the fights stay at a minimum.” Marinette said calmly.

“Whose wedding, Mlle Dupain-Cheng?” Nathalie inquired. As her tablet was already in her hands Marinette guessed that Nathalie would be doing a google search of whichever name Marinette gave her.

“Nobody you would know,” Marinette replied calmly.

“Are your parents not attending the wedding?” Mr Agreste asked. Probably trying to get dirt to show Adrien how unsuited I am to even be his friend. Marinette thought sardonically.

“They will attend the wedding and stay for a week after it, however, the wedding is in over a months time and my cousin has asked for my assistance with final fittings and details that she might have missed. It helps that I'm one of her bridesmaids so I would have been heading over soon anyway.” Marinette replied, downplaying her role in the wedding as well as what she was really going to be doing. After all, she was the one who had designed all the dresses and suits for the wedding and she was the maid of honour. She had to make sure the bachelorette party ran smoothly ontop of everything else too.

Suddenly her phone went mad. Marinette grabbed it and looked at who was trying to get hold of her then answered and spoke in rapid-fire Chinese to the person on the other end. While all three people with her were capable of speaking Chinese, they were soon lost. She was speaking way too fast and in a dialect that they were not familiar with. The call didn't last long but it was clear to Adrien and his father that Marinette wasn't happy about something.

“What's wrong?” Adrien asked genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.

“Oh, just one of the aunts demanding that my cousin include their child in the wedding party. It's not my decision and as my cousin has already said no there is not much I can do about it.” Marinette closed her eyes and groaned as she flopped back into her seat, “This is going to get worse as the day draws closer, I just know it!”

Mr Agreste exchanged a glance with Nathalie and was about to say something more, probably to ask about how Marinette could afford first-class tickets when an air stewardess walked over to her.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng? It's time for you to board.”

Marinette gathered her things and stood up to follow her. For the first time, the three that had joined her in the flight lounge took a look at what she was wearing. For anyone who didn't know fashion, Marinette's outfit would look just like any other 18-year-olds. To those who were in the fashion industry, however, they could see that her stressed jeans were designer and not worn from age. Her blouse was tailored to her perfectly and her shoes, while slightly worn, were expensive. This led to three very confused people. How could Marinette afford all of the designer clothes? How was she in first-class to begin with? Weren't her parents bakers? It made no sense to them at all.

Marinette was well aware of the turmoil that she had left her former classmate and his designer of a father in. She also knew that Nathalie was in no better state than the two men as she would be the one that had to look up all the answers to their questions. The truth was simple though well hidden and no matter how hard Nathalie searched she wouldn't be able to find it. After all, who would suspect that Sabine Cheng came from a family that owned Billions and Sabine had left for Paris after she and Tom had married so that Marinette would have a more normal childhood. They lived on way less money then what they had but invest wisely anyway, to the point that Marinette owned her own fashion empire, under her real name, and she was the lead designer for it.

Marinette was safely in her seat with a glass of champaign when the Agreste's boarded. Her nose was buried in her sketchbook again and her phone was connected to the sound system that was playing her music while she designed. At that moment she had Machine Heart by Miracle of Sound feat Sharm playing and her pencil was flying across her page. As they watched the song changed and Marinette gave a small smile before carrying on with her designing. Mr Agreste decided to be a little more curious about what she was designing and realised that it out-did even his latest line in terms of style despite being a rough draft. He couldn't help but think that she would be better then him someday and wondered if he should try and offer her an internship before one of his competitors snatched her up.

Adrien, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile as he watched her. She was so lost in her own world that even as she took a sip of her drink her eyes didn't leave the page. The cute frown she almost always wore when thinking was there and he felt a pang of longing flash through him. He'd always had a crush on her even though he had masked it by pretending to be hung up on Ladybug. In the countless interviews he'd had to endure, he had put up a facade of indifference whenever his love life had come under the microscope, something his father had approved of but something he had hated. His classmate was perfect as far as he was concerned, especially after she had stopped stuttering and getting muddled up in his presence. He found her intelligent and witty to go along with how kind she was. Sure she was quick to jump to conclusions but she was equally quick to forgive and try move past what had been done wrong. She had even understood why he could never stand up to Chloe and to Lila despite how uncomfortable they made him.

His smile grew us Marinette started to sing along to the current song, Broken Arrows by Avicii if he guessed correctly. He voice was soft yet so full of joy and hope. There was a touch of pain every now and then as well but as far as Adrien could hear, the overtone in her voice was hope. He had always liked the song so he took the time to enjoy her singing. Or he tried to anyway. His father called for him to catch up when he had decided Adrien had lagged behind long enough, almost like he thinks I'm an errant puppy was Adrien slightly cynical thought as that happened.

Soon enough they were in the air and Adrien was bored. He looked at Nathalie and his father and saw they were occupied with something so he decided to look at what games or apps were on the little in-flight entertainment system in front of him. He was exceptionally grateful to find a messaging app that allowed you to chat to your fellow passengers and immediately tracked down Marinette's seat number and sent her a message, hoping that she wasn't asleep. She wasn't if the slight jump he saw from her was any indication. They chatted for three hours before she dozed off and he did the same. After they were woken for food and they had eaten, they started talking again, however, Adrien never thought to ask about how she could be in first class, nor about the preferential treatment, she was receiving. At one point his father tried to get him to ask but Adrien refused if Marinette wanted to tell him she would.

It wasn't long after their flight landed that he lost sight of her but he knew Nathalie had both his father and himself on an extremely tight schedule for the first few days. After all, he was walking the catwalk for someone other than Gabriel for the first time ever and they wanted to make sure everything ran like clockwork.

Marinette, on the other hand, had disappeared to the butterfly house as she wanted to visit it before she dived headlong into the madness that was preparing for a massive fashion show on top of all the wedding preparations for her cousin. At least the bachelorette party was planned and ready, even if the final numbers were not confirmed yet. Hopefully, that would happen soon! After an hour of exploring the butterfly house and gaining countless ideas for designs, she headed down to where she had been told a car would be waiting for her. She headed straight to the family home, where she was greeted by her grandmother's overly enthusiastic caramel coloured and perfectly groomed Pekingese, Mǔdān (Peony), the youngest of the six that her grandmother owned. All for were kept in the perfect condition for showing and yet every single one of them were completely spoiled as they were all extremely friendly even if they were highly protective of the family. It seemed that despite not seeing Mǔdān since she was a puppy, she still remembered her and was all too eager for the cuddles that Marinette would willingly provide. After greeting her family and having a quick meal and shower, Marinette decided to have a proper sleep to get over her jet lag.

When Marinette woke up again it was early in the morning and she was trapped in her bed by all six of her grandmother's Pekingese who had apparently decided she hadn't given them enough attention the previous day. To her dismay she found that she needed to shower again as she was covered in dog fur and sweat due to the dogs, so she reluctantly shooed the dogs away from the bed and had another quick shower. She was glad she had let her hair grow out over the past few years but she knew she was going to be cursing her hair by the end of her trip. To save herself the hassle of properly dring it she made sure that she didn't get her hair wet and after her shower, she threw her hair into a messy bun. She knew she would have to head to the office today as she needed to go over all the preparations for the show so she headed down to the dining room to ask if she could borrow one of the cars or if a driver had been assigned to her for during her stay. As she spoke to her aunt about that she managed to remember to eat a light breakfast and have lunch packed for her so that she didn't have to worry about that later.

Once Marinette got to the office, having followed the GPS as a precaution, she quickly made her way to the main design floor. She received multiple greetings along the way and she cheerfully waved back, making sure to greet all those she knew by name and learning the names of anyone new. Her first order of business once she reached her studio office was going over the music selection for the runway show. She decided to make a statement to the fashion world with the first song and made it “One Girl Revolution – Battle Mix by Superchick and work her way from there. Some of what she chose was a little on the heavy side but she was making a statement with every song she chose. This show was the one where she would finally be throwing away the fake name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng and revealing herself to be Nettie Chang. As she was working she heard a knock on her door and thinking it was one of the assistants called an absent-minded “Come in” without looking up at all. A shocked voice saying her name made her look up sharply.

“Mr Agreste, Nathalie, Adrien to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you all today?” Marinette asked calmly, masking her surprise with practised ease that would shock her classmates if they knew. Years of being Ladybug and training for her identity reveal with her family helping her at that moment.

“Adrien is meant to be making his international catwalk debut with the show that Píngguǒ huā Designs (Apple Blossom Designs) is hosting in a week. We were directed here to meet with the lead designer to make sure that everything was properly fitted. May I ask why you are in here? Are you interning with them?” Mr Agreste was hoping that her answer to his final question was no as he didn't want to compete against her in the fashion arena.

Marinette smiled as she saw that all three of her guests were waiting with bated breath for her answer and was about to do so when one of the younger seamstresses came running into the room. Barely taking the time to catch her breath, the young woman rattled off the problem that had been discovered. Marinette calmed her down then told her to lead the way.

“I hope you don't mind if I deal with this before answering your questions? You are most welcome to follow me if you want to.” She said casually to them but they all picked up on the cue that she had handed them and followed the two ladies to what could only be the main floor. Marinette quickly saw what the problem was and saw a very easy solution.

“Rather then resew everything from scratch, I want you two to swap models and see if everything fits better. If there is no change then we'll have new ones made but I'd rather not have to do that so close to the show.” The two women looked at each other and nodded, hastily sending the two models to change into the sapped outfits which they saw fit very well to their delight. Marinette quickly led her three guests back to her office and looked at Mr Agreste.

“Does that answer your questions?” She enquired in an amused tone, loving the poleaxed look on Mr Agreste's face along with the fact that Nathalie looked like she had just swallowed a lemon. Adrien was laughing softly from his spot behind his father. She glanced at him, it seemed like as soon as the shock of seeing her had worn off Adrien had guessed that she was at the very least the lead designer and had been waiting to see when the other two would catch up. As she waited for their response she poked her head out the door and asked for refreshments to be brought up, then retreated back into her office. After five minutes, Mr Agreste finally spoke.

“Well, it looks like my plan of offering you an apprenticeship won't be needed.” His voice had a slightly bitter tone to it. “So are you the lead designer or owner?”

Marinette didn't answer for a minute as she was finally going over the list of models for her show and had found Adrien's name on the list. She sent off a quick email asking for the appropriate items that he would be modelling to be sent to her office STAT so that she could do the final fittings and only then did she lean back to answer.

“Both. I started this company in my real name three years ago when it became clear to me that ninety per cent of my class were idiots who would rather believe a liar and removed me from the position of being class president. I joined the main student council instead and was soon it's vice-president but I was still bored. When the class was friendly with me my days were occupied with doing designs for gifts, school dance dresses, team uniforms nad planning fundraisers etc. As a result, I had very little time for myself and to be honest I was grateful when they turned on me as they were no longer coming to me at the last moment and just expecting me to be happy to do whatever they wanted. You should have seen the temper tantrums I put up with when I had the nerve to say 'I'm busy'”

Marinette stopped when there was a knock at her door and she waved a hand to allow them to enter. Four people walked in the first had a tray of drinks and eats, the second had a folding privacy screen that had ornate phoenixes and apple blossoms on it and the last two were pushing a rack that had several outfits on it. Marinette thanked them as they quickly set up the screen and after making sure there was nothing else they left just as quietly as they had arrived.

Seeing that Adrien was about to speak Marinette held up a hand. “Drink something first. It's lunchtime and nothing here will cause bloating so you are welcome to eat as well. We can do your fittings after that, provided Nathalie has nothing else scheduled for today,” she said with a smile. Mr Agreste was watching her as though trying to figure something out.

“What's wrong Mr Agreste?” She asked with a slight tilt to her head.

“I'm just surprised that you will be doing Adrien's things yourself. I'm also trying to figure out why there is a screen for him to change behind.” He answered calmly.

“Simple. Yes, he is used to having people see him change and yes I own this company and could assign someone else to do this, but I decided to spare him that this time. Adrien is blond and a natural one at that which is rare here in Singapore thus he will be much sought after and I decided to avoid having my junior designers and interns fighting over the honour of who will do his fittings. I don't know who his dresser will be during the show yet but we'll get there. As for the screen, I am female and while I have grown up in France and as such, I am more liberal than most, but this is Singapore and propriety must be observed. I am an unattached female as is Nathalie and Adrien is not related to either of us, so polite society dictates that we not be exposed to his unclothed form.” Marinette was speaking casually yet they could tell that she meant what she was saying. Either way, Adrien was grateful to Marinette for her thoughtfulness.

Adrien frowned then spoke up for the first time in a while, “What do you mean your 'real name' Marinette? I noticed you said that you opened this fashion house under your 'Real Name' but for as long as I've known you your name has always been Marinette Dupain-Cheng on any of your documents.” Marinette smiled.

“Caught that did you? When mom found out she was pregnant with me, she convinced the family to let her move to France. I was raised there under a fake name so as to keep me out of the news here in Singapore. When I was old enough to start using contact lenses mom ordered coloured ones for me and I've been using them ever since.” She paused to take a breath but before she could continue Adrien popped out yet another question.

“So what's your real name and eye colour? I mean I've never seen you with any eye colour other than blue, even now! Don't they get uncomfortable? I know mine do after a little while!” Marinette smiled at her long-time crush.

“My real name is Nettie Chang and as for my real eye colour, it's grey.” She paused and glanced in a mirror. “Huh, no wonder you look confused, I forgot that I didn't need to put in my contacts in this morning. Oops!” She giggled slightly and walked over to her desk and opened a drawer to get out an empty case to hold her contacts and quickly removed them, revealing her stormcloud grey eyes.

Adrien had to stop himself reacting when he saw them. It seemed just when he thought she couldn't get any prettier, she went and did so. It was unfair as far as he was concerned. Throughout high school, he'd watched her turn down guy after guy always saying that she couldn't return their feelings as she already liked someone. It didn't help that Lila had tried to turn that into Marinette, no Nettie, supposedly thinking that she was better than anyone in the school. Adrien had to wonder if she had ever told the oblivious idiot in question that she had a crush on him.

Mr Agreste and Nathalie looked visibly shaken when they heard her name. Both of them were panicking as they had helped Lila Rossi on a number of occasions and it looked like Nettie knew about those deals. While her three guests were quiet, Nettie had continued working on the playlist for the show and had decided that she was going to stay with her theme of harder rock music as most of the clothes that had been made in darker tones that were designed to show off the wearers pale skin tones. She noticed that there were no sounds of eating and looked up.

“Was everything to your liking?” She asked innocently and received polite thank you's from Nathalie and Mr Agreste and an enthusiastic one from Adrien. She giggled slightly at the fact that he hadn't changed much then stood and beckoned for him to follow her. “This is the first outfit if you don't mind changing so that I can check the fit.” She said softly, handing him the first set for him to try on. The shoes will remain the same for each set so we only need to check those once.”

Adrien nodded and slipped behind the screen to change, all the while Nathalie and Mr Agreste tried to make sense of what was happening. Mr Agreste had expected to be able to walk in and take over but Nettie had blocked him so effortlessly that she made it look like she wasn't trying to block him at all. Thankfully none of the items of clothing needed any major alterations, though Adrien had needed to keep his mind firmly blank when Nettie had run her hands over the clothes to double-check everything. He had practically been able to hear Plagg laughing at him and had been grateful that his kwami had chosen to stay with his street clothes while he changed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As far as Alya was concerned, Marinette getting permission to go on holiday a week before the rest of the class was a good thing. She only knew about the extra week off because Max had hacked the school system and place a tag on Marinette's file so that they knew when she was not going to be at school. The fact that Adrien had also been pulled from school for that week was a minor upset to Alya's plans to her Liladrien plan but one she could handle. Lila had been upset but who wouldn't be when they knew they wouldn't be able to see their crush everyday?

The class had managed to do enough fundraising to afford a trip to Singapore as their final school trip together and everyone was looking forward to it. Mlle Bustier had been persuaded to leave Marinette's name off of the list when it came time to booking anything, so Alya was happy they wouldn't have to deal with her. Mr Agreste hadn't replied to the classes emails about the trip so no-one was sure if Adrien would be able to come and with him not being at school for the week before they left it made things a little harder to plan but Alya was sure they had managed to do so just fine.

The school week passed with very little difficulty and they were all looking forward to their trip. Apparently, Lila had managed to book them an exclusive tour of the Píngguǒ huā Designs studios as well as backstage passes to their fashion show! Lila knew the lead designer for the studio which is how she had managed to organise it all and Alya was looking forward to rubbing the fact that they got to meet him in Marinette's face when they got back.

The only downside of that week was seeing that Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie had gone up for sale and had closed its doors for the last time on the Wednesday at the end of the business day. Nadja Chamack had done a special story on it for the evening news that night and apparently, they were moving to be closer to Sabine's family as her mother was getting on in age. That was the official story anyway, as far as the class was concerned that story was a coverup and they were simply moving away due to being ashamed of Marinette's behaviour.

Alya didn't know why Marinette hadn't just gotten over herself and apologised to Lila for everything and then they wouldn't have excluded her the way they had. Even Chloe had made a deal with Lila to just pretend the other didn't exist and that had been the last of their arguing.

Sure there had been several disadvantages to pushing Marinette away like no new dresses whenever they wanted them, no fresh pastries on test days and no friends and family discount at the bakery but they had made do. It meant a little pre-preparation for some things but it was worth it in the end as far as they were concerned.

The trip to Singapore had been uneventful, though none of them could get comfortable in their economy class seats. They had then all piled into the bus that had been organised for them and when they had arrived at their hotel they had all been too tired to do much so they had checked in, received their keys, dropped their bags off and gone out for a meal. None of them had wanted to try anything from the street vendors, except Kim, but they had eventually found something they could all agree on and had that for their evening meal.

For three days the class had done the tourist thing, visiting the museums and a couple of local site's but that night the class had a rather unexpected surprise. They had all gone back to where they had seen the huge collection of street vendors as Kim had convinced them that it would be a shame to not try anything at least when they saw Adrien. What made it completely unexpected was that Mr Agreste and his assistant, Nathalie, were there too. They also had the last person any of the class wanted to see with them, Marinette. Or at least they thought it was Marinette. The girl had grey eyes and not blue so there was a possibility that it wasn't her

“Mr Agreste, I didn't know you and Adrien would be here!” Lila greeted as she walked over to Mr Agreste's table, Adrien and their guest had wandered off to somewhere as Lila headed their way. Ever the good friend, Alya had her phone trained on the scene in front of her, hoping that it would turn out to be the romantic moment the Lila hoped for when Adrien returned.

“Yes, Adrien is scheduled to walk in the Píngguǒ huā Designs fashion show in two days so we had to come here early so that all the final fittings could be done without needing to be rushed.” Although Mr Agreste had replied politely his tone was so cold it was palpable. At that moment, Adrien returned and placed what he was holing on the table, which smelled delicious. “Adrien, where is Nettie?” Mr Agreste asked seeing she hadn't followed Adrien back to the table.

Adrien laughed, then answered happily, “She's getting a different dish. She is insistent that we try multiple different dishes and firmly believes that it would be a shame to eat here without trying a full range. My job is to track her as she moves from stand to stand and carry the meals back here. I hope you are hungry though as she didn't say how many stalls she would be visiting. Anyway, I've got to run or I'll lose her!”

With that Adrien vanished back into the crowd while Mr Agreste and Nathalie looked at each other and shook their heads with a smile. Lila fumed for a moment and was about to ask if she could join them when it seemed Mr Agreste remembered that she was there.

“Oh, by the way, Mlle Rossi, since you are already here I may as well tell you now instead of when I get back to France. Gabriel designs will no longer require your modelling services, due to a recent market survey that shows that rather than attracting customers with your modelling skills, you are deterring them. You were already paid for the last shoot you did with us, so consider it your last one.”

Alya stared at Mr Agreste and Nathalie, who had nodded along with her boss. Lila looked like she didn't know if she wanted to scream or cry. Adrien had made two more trips and it looked like he was back from his final trip as he had the grey-eyed girl from earlier with him.

“This all smells amazing Nettie! Thank you for bringing us here.” Mr Agreste said with a soft smile as he looked at the girl who was with them. Adrien saw Lila was about to say something and decided to talk to Nette in Chinese until their class was no longer within earshot. Mr Agreste saw what his son was doing and laughed softly as he switched languages too, pretending to have forgotten that she 'didn't speak French.'

Alya walked over and took Lila's arm, “Come on Gurl, we need to find food as well. I don't know about you but I don't want to get in trouble with Mlle Bustier.” Lila nodded numbly, Had she really just been fired she thought before risking a glance over her shoulder and seeing Adrien feeding the other girl something then her returning the favour.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Adrien was having fun, something he hadn't expected to be possible when his father had agreed to have him model in the Píngguǒ huā Designs fashion show. He had been absolutely thrilled to find out he was modelling for his crush and had had to fight to maintain his control during the fittings but as far as he was concerned it was well worth it. He knew that Nathalie and his father had eased up on the schedule due to finding out that the girl his father had wanted to offer an internship to had bought her own fashion company. What a shock that had been to find out she owned Píngguǒ huā Designs but when the four of them had spoken after his fittings were done, everything had started to make sense.

It turned out that Lila had been lying to Marinette, saying that Mr Agreste had wanted nothing to do with her designs and that she was nothing but a social climber so Marinette had decided that she would start her own business instead. She had started by borrowing the original Capital from her parents and by using the money she had earned from her commissions and had already paid everything off. She still did those commissions but she had long since told those that she did the commissions for the truth and they were the ones who had spread the company's name around and had made it as popular as it now was. Nettie had focused primarily on ready to wear streetwear and practical clothing but she did have her more formal lines and he would be modelling a mix from both during the show.

On top of lying about what his father was saying about her designs, Lila had also told Nettie that he didn't want to be her friend among other things which Adrien had not been happy about. The talk had revealed a lot more than that but Adrien and his father had been most caught off guard by the fact that once the misunderstandings had been cleared up, Nettie had forgiven them. A quick call and they had been invited to her family home for supper, which they had gratefully accepted. They were about to hire a taxi when Marinette said she could drive them if they wanted, something they hadn't expected.

Upon their arrival at the Cheng house, she had warned them to watch where they put their feet, only to almost trip over Mǔdān herself making her blush even as she laughed. She quickly scooped the do up in her arms and turned to face them.

“Now you see why I told you to watch where you put your feet. This is Mǔdān and she is the youngest of the six Pekingese that my grandmother owns and she is definitely the friendliest of them. The others are Ming, Tuptim, Yari, Suki and Shari. They are all totally spoiled so don't let their cute faces fool you into thinking they aren't fed or anything like that!” Adrien had watched as she fussed over the dog in her arms and followed as she led them into the house, toeing off their shoes at the door, just like she had. There are indoor slippers if you would prefer to not walk barefoot but none of them worried as she hadn't bothered to put any on either. Soon they were greeted by the family and led into the lounge where they had had a very enjoyable evening, with Nettie and Adrien reconnecting their friendship properly.

They had had a fun evening after dinner watching a recording of SIX and while they had loved the musical, they couldn't help but point out the historical inaccuracies. Just before they had thought to head back to their hotel, the Chang family had offered to host them instead as a sign of goodwill. Adrien had been beyond thrilled when his father had readily agreed and had fallen into bed that night with a huge smile on his face, something that Plagg had teased him mercilessly for! By the time the end of the week arrived, he and Nettie were dating and despite her families super strict rules for them, they were absolutely thrilled about finally being able to show what they were feeling.

By the time they had gone to dinner at the open food market, they had agreed that she wouldn't need to bother with her contact lenses anymore. Adrien hadn't even flinched when he saw Alya and Lila at the food market. He had, in fact, pretended to be oblivious to their presence and had deliberately switched to Chinese when talking to Nettie just to add to the confusion even more.

With a bit of eve's dropping, Nettie had found out that Lila had lied to the class and said that she knew the head designer of Píngguǒ huā Designs and that Lila had organised an exclusive tour of the studio as well as backstage passes to the show. Nettie decided she would send tickets for the show itself but not full access passes as Lila had promised.

She then coordinated with Mr Agreste to pull in as many people as possible that Lila had lied about to be at the show and more especially, the after-party. It turned out quite a few of them were people that were going to be there anyway as they had ordered outfits from her beforehand were eager to be there when she showed herself to the world for the first time until now they only knew of a masked face with what looked like short hair and a voice distorter. Those that had ordered from her prior to her opening her own company knew her but those who she only started working with after that only knew the image she let the world see.

The night before the show, Nettie and her family found themselves in the lounge with their three guests watching a movie that had Nettie and her family in gales of laughter. Crazy Rich Asians was definitely something the whole family could relate to. Tom confided to Adrien that that's how he had felt when he had first met Sabine and that while the hazing he had gone through was nowhere near as bad as what the female protagonist had to deal with, it hadn't been easy. It had been a shock for Tom when he had found out that Sabine was part of a super-rich family, but they were a lot more relaxed than the families in the movie, except maybe the roommate's family!

The fashion show had gone off without a hitch, with all the models hitting their cues effortlessly. The crowd had been wowed by the daring music choices and the stunning outfits that had been on display. Adrien had let Nettie know where the class was sitting and that Alya had her phone out and recording, despite the 'No Filming unless you have signed Authorisation' signs in French, English and Chinese that had been posted at every entrance. Nettie had alerted security to what Alya was doing and they had dealt with it gleefully as the class hadn't made a good impression on them. The reveal of Nettie's identity would happen during the afterparty, so with this in mind, she had created two outfits for the night. The first that she would walk the runway in was gender-neutral while the outfit for the party was an eye-catching dress in her signature pink, with grey accents.

Nettie was calmly talking to some of her guests while Adrien rested his arm around her waist when her class arrived. She had to hide a smile when she heard Alya telling Lila not to worry about how close Adrien was standing to someone they didn't know, how it must be something Mr Agreste had organised. Nettie lost sight of the class as she moved around the room and then it was time. Jagged had pretty much demanded the honour of introducing her to the world so when she saw him standing on the stage, she took a deep breath.

“I know many of you have heard the rumours about a certain girl knowing many of us here tonight. In fact, the Ladyblog has documented her numerous interactions with each of us. From rescuing my cat to Clara supposedly stealing her dance moves. Tonight we decided to share the truth. Yes, we do know a teenage girl who is frankly Rock n Roll in every way. But her name is not Lila Rossi. Lila Rossi is a name we only know due to her lies that the Ladyblog has spread and I know many of us have lawsuits lined up for her. I know Clara is an exceptional dancer in her own right and doesn't need to steal someone else's moves. The only cat I've ever been around, other than Chat Noir, was my mothers seal-point Siamese KisiMi who unfortunately died 20 years ago.

This little liar aside, there is a young lady here that we all know and love. She is talented, kind and brave. When she was told that she would never succeed she brushed off the criticism and stood tall building the company we see here tonight. She has worked with a number of us on numerous occasions and always makes sure that we look our Rock n Roll best for whatever the occasion. I first met her when she was 14 and was using a fake name. Tonight she is shedding that fake name and showing the world who she really is. Please help me welcome to the stage the lead designer for and owner of Píngguǒ huā Designs: Nettie Chang!”

“Thanks, Jagged,” Nettie started once she had walked onto the stage and accepted the hug he offered. “Some people here might know me as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. This is due to my mother wanting to raise me away from the public eye. Nothing travels faster then news on 'Radio 1- Aisa'” she had to pause here as there was too much laughter for her to talk over. “Anyway, I have always wanted to design and just never had enough time to do so, so when a liar joined my class and pushed me out to the point where I barely had any true friends I decided to start this company. I'm glad I did too.

I have worked with so many fabulous people that we would be here all night but there are three people, outside of my family that deserve extra special thanks. The first is Jagged Stone, without whom I wouldn't have met most of you. He has come to be the fun uncle that you turn to when you want to break the rules. The second is Mr Agreste, who hosted a bowler hat competition and gave me the motivation to keep designing. The final thank you goes to my boyfriend Adrien, who supports me from the wings and occasionally gives me the shove I need to get things done.”

Nettie gave a small curtsy to the crowd, without waiting for questions and slid herself back into Adrien's arms. She could see the shouting going on among her class but she didn't care anymore. She was free of the expectations that they had placed on her. Free from worrying about what they thought and free to live her life. That's all she had wanted when she left France two weeks ago. Now she just had to deal with her cousin's wedding. Wouldn't that be fun!

@northernbluetongue, @ash-amg-blog

#salt #mlb #marinettexadrien #marinette is amazing #sleepy writer #don't take it too seriously

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mysticsparklewings · 5 years ago

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The Dream Crosser

Surprise! NaPoWriMo didn't kill me (and I'm not abandoning dA because of the incoming Eclipse update either, more on that situation here), I just needed a week off to recuperate...and obsessively play Animal Crossing: New Horizons... Admittedly, I actually drew this well over a month ago (and wrote up the majority of the description!), not just before NaPoWriMo but before I actually had New Horizons in my grasp. The plan was to post it the day I got the game. Which was supposed to be much closer to the game's launch (March 20th). That ended up not happening and the day I got the game was the first day of NaPoWriMo, but 1. I messed up with the non-uniform prompts and spent all of the day trying to catch up so I couldn't even play the game yet, and 2. As a side effect, I ended up having two posts that day and a lot of work to do to catch up the second, and I hardly had time to think about posting this. And even if I had posted it, it would've been drowned in the incoming NaPoWriMo posts. And so, here we are. Really, really, I do have to mention that I truly feel for anyone else still waiting on the game for whatever reason. You have my deepest sympathy and I'm so sorry I can't just give you the game right now and make it better. I know the wait was hard enough for me, being this is the one game I highly anticipated in over a year and I essentially had the rug yanked out from under me. But I'll save that story for after I talk about the art itself since I'm sure that's what most people are here for and not my pre-order frustrations. So in case you don't know or couldn't tell, this is the lovely Luna from AC: New Leaf's Dream Suite. From what we've seen of New Horizons since it's release, the Dream Suite's functions and purpose have been mostly absolved into the Airport and Dodo Codes, and so I'm very doubtful Luna will actually be in the game in any capacity, which makes me sad. A typical player (including me) wouldn't even necessarily interact with Luna that much in New Leaf unless you really enjoy visiting other towns using Dream Codes, so I'm not sure what it is, but for some reason I just really like her. That's why I picked her to draw to celebrate. I very nearly drew her a long time ago when I was on an Animal Crossing kick in 2018, but at the time I didn't like the idea of pressuring myself into drawing all and/or multiple AC characters just because I wanted to be "fair" to them all (much the same reason I don't draw Pokemon very often), so I ended up drawing One Little Spark, a crossover of the Disney character Figment drawn in the New Leaf style, instead. So in a way, she's had this coming for quite a while. At the time I started working on her, (way back in early March, because I was hoping beyond hope my pre-order would arrive to me actually on launch day, but ha ha ha look who's got egg on her face for that ) I was running a bit dry on artistic motivation, and so while I tried to draw her in my usual manner: Making a sketch, transferring the sketch onto different paper with finalized lines, then picking whichever coloring method I was most into at the time), I was struggling with the sketch. I've had days where I have to work on a sketch for a really long time before I can get something I'm happy with, but this day I was just so not into the whole sketching process. I wanted to create, but I wanted it to be quick and easy and simple. I didn't want to have to poke at it for hours and hours and then still maybe not be happy when I was done. So when I got discouraged enough, I broke away from trying to draw Luna and just drew mandalas instead. (As had become my art-block crutch for a little while.) Somewhere in me, as I worked on other things, I kept going back and forth on what to do about Luna, though. I did still want to draw her, but my usual formula just wasn't working for me. Not for her. I even tried briefly to draw her linelessly, digitally, as what was supposed to be a quick and simple experiment, but that went downhill even faster than sketching did. Although, for some reason, the lineless idea wouldn't leave me alone after that. Finally, I decided to try something completely different. I was going to try and free-handedly draw her, without lines, traditionally. With, primarily, alcohol markers. Honestly, the thought minorly horrifies me now just as much as it did before I started. And yet, here we are and I actually like how it turned out. Allow me to explain how this came together: So, since I wasn't sure how this was going to turn out once I decided to try it, I opted to use my not-so-great mixed media paper so I wouldn't feel guilty about wasting better paper if I ended up hating it. Naturally, this did lead to some notable limitations, but not enough to discourage me from trying. I dove right in with the dark brown for her head and body, focusing on getting the general shapes down. I'd noticed some glaring mistakes in my mostly unproductive sketching when it came to Luna's body proportions, so I tried to keep those things in mind and adjust accordingly as I went. It was scary because there is no erasing this way short of using white paint and because this paper feathers pretty noticeably with markers. Then once I got to a certain point, I had to switch and bring in some pink and off-white markers to draw in parts of her dress so I knew where to put her other arm and her legs. And here is where I technically cheated; I did use my "clear" Stardust Gelly Roll pen to do most of the outlines for her dress. I needed some kind of guideline, but pencil tends to get yucky when you put markers on top and at the time I couldn't really think of a better option. (The joke was kind of on me because somehow I still got a nasty gray line that looked like pencil under her bust that I had to gently edit out later in Photoshop, but I digress.) As I went with the markers, I was also doing some light shading. Not too much, because this paper is really fussy with layers and blending, but enough that I felt like it didn't look completely flat and I could tell where one shape ended and another started. Though, for her nose (trunk? I believe Luna is supposed to be a Tapir) and her raised arm, I had to get a little creative and I used a white brush pen meant for glass/ceramics to put in the lines so you could actually see them. And later I would use the same pen in 3-4 layers to add the white back in for her eyes. With the base for her body, dress, and the bun part of her hair done though, then I had the task of figuring out what to do for her shoes and the details of her face. (Without having to mix and use specific paint for those tiny details.) In the end, I opted to mostly use my classic red Gelly Roll pen for her shoes, and a little bit of a dark red alcohol marker for shading. And then I got to experiment with mixing the classic red and one of the Moonlight Gelly Rolls for her lips so that the color would be visible and not just a dark lip-shaped "what is this." This was because the classic Gelly Rolls don't show up super well on dark surfaces and the Moonlight ones do, but I didn't have the right color straight out of a Moonlight pen. It did take 2-3 careful layers, but I think I managed well enough in the end. I used just one black pen, a Prismacolor brush-tip fine liner, for her eyes, though in-person the white base underneath makes her pupils look about a shade or two lighter from certain angles, which was a very unintentional nice touch. My answer to everything else ended up being gouache, although I did try to come up with pen colors for her eye shadow and the blue dots on her cheeks before admitting defeat that I just didn't have the colors I needed. Originally, I had actually been thinking of trying a lineless art piece with gouache, as I think it would work particularly well for that look, but I wasn't ready to fully commit to the idea, mostly because I seem to be even worse at mixing a non-excessive amount of a specific color with gouache than I am with acrylics, and that sounds like a fantastic way to waste a bunch of palette space because I mixed too much but it's gouache so it can be re-wet and re-use it and I don't want to just throw it away... (Although I suppose this could be half-way solved by getting a bigger palette specifically for mixing gouache, but I also don't want to have to buy yet another palette when I have some perfectly good ones...If I could just use up all the paint in them already...) Anyway. Point: This is kind of a step between a full lineless gouache piece and not doing one at all. Baby steps, yes? I knew from fairly early on that I was probably going to have to use gouache for the front part of her hair/bangs, since I did not thoroughly plan ahead enough and didn't leave a gap there to do it with markers. Fortunately, I didn't have to do much mixing since my gouache already has a nice yellow ochre color included, and I could use a bit of the other two browns and one I had some leftover mixed already from Roses in Your Eyes for shading. (White for the flowers, too, thank goodness.) And I actually ended up going over most of her bun with gouache too since, by comparison, the marker didn't look like it had much shading and it was bothering me. I did have to mix my own blue and pinky-purple for her makeup, and I ended up with a lot of leftover pinky-purple. But it's kind of okay because by itself it's such a pretty color I'm sure I'll find an excuse to use that one. After that, I just had to do some minor tweaks where the gouache had gotten a bit away from me and then I went ham on the shading for the dress based on my reference photo. Then I realized I wanted some kind of background because this seemed awfully boring without one. And, naturally, I hadn't really planned ahead for that, me being me and being in habit of doing the background last... At first, I wanted to do something hot pink, since her official Amiibo card has a hot pink background, but then I thought that might be a little too loud and I wasn't really sure the best way to apply one without potentially messing her up. And also, this isn't watercolor or paper thicker than 140 lb, which immediately threw watercolor out the window unless I wanted a very uneven paper when I was finished. I'd already pushed my luck with the gouache and been very careful about not using much water with it; I decided it was best not to push my luck any farther. Also, I couldn't use my pink PanPastel, despite that being maybe my best option, because it is still perpetually screwed onto the little Pan Pastel stack with no hope of getting unstuck anytime soon. (One of these days I swear, I will order either another set like the one I have or an individual Pink one to solve this problem, but until then, I am going to bring it up every single time as a caution to others to please be very careful when screwing and unscrewing your own Pan Pastels if you store them screwed together.) And I didn't feel like dragging out some of my drawing pastels and/or makeup that's too expired to use on my face and very slowly building up color and hoping it'll do what the Pan Pastels do. With no better ideas coming to me, I decided I'd leave the drawing for the night and come back to it the next day. After yet more brainstorming the next day, I finally settled on doing a glittery rounded rectangle and filling it with washi tape stripes. This plan did change a little as I figured out which tapes I wanted to use (a purple-y, champagne gold, and light pink ones, the latter two of which look more different in-person than they do on the scan) and as I actually started applying the lines. Partially because this tape is a bit thin and partially because I'm not used to cutting tape around very specific shapes, it took a very long time to both place strips of the tape and then get them cut to fit right up to Luna without looking strange. Once I got to a certain point going in one direction, I realized my next couple of cuts were just going to be too hard for me to stand. I had a choice: Ditch the tape, or figure something else out. Taking a risk, I decided to try and salvage it by doing an almost-plaid/checkerboard with the tape, specifically leaving out certain areas where I knew it would be too tricky to cut the tape. This also turned out to be a good way to use up some of the pieces of tape I'd already cut off that were too small to be used the other way. It's still not the greatest background solution I've ever come up with, but it does the job of making it look less empty, and that's really all I wanted anyway. And you know, compared to official images her proportions look wonky, but by herself (meaning, without comparing the two) I think Luna looks pretty good, actually. (Though, I admit I did have to tweak her right ear in Photoshop because it came out entirely too long and there wasn't really a good way for me to fix it by hand.) To think, this piece started out as such a mess. Or rather, I was such a mess when I started. And yet, here we are, and it looks kinda okay. Okay enough that I finished it and am posting it, at least. I have no idea if I'll be returning to this style/method for art-making in the future, but even if I don't it was a nice experiment to try, and that's what art is really all about isn't it? Experimenting, trying new things? Speaking of experimenting though, about those pre-order frustrations I mentioned now that I've covered everything about the art itself...(in small text for those that don't care to easily skip over) Back in February I tried twice to pre-order New Horizons from Target, since they were running an ad where if you pre-ordered the game you'd also get an AC themed journal with it, and that combined with my family member's employee discount made it the cheapest/best value way for us to buy the game. As I said, I tried to order it twice. Both times, it was sold out. My family member had even tried to go to the store and have them order it before then, to no avail. After the second time, which was the day after Target sent out the sale paper with the new ad in it, while I was still frustratedly wondering how on earth do you sell out of a pre-order?? I kept refreshing the page every so often just to see if by some fluke it would miraculously not be sold out. I got very lucky around 3 in the afternoon and we managed to get the order in before it sold out again. Now, we're a relatively cheap family, so we didn't pay for the "express shipping" or whatever. Although, this was a $60 game and we were ordering it three whole weeks (on March 2nd) before release. If you ask me, the least they could do is have it shipped out either on launch day (March 20th) or the day after. Especially if I can pre-order a book on Amazon with three days' notice and they can still get it to me on release day. But, okay, I could live with waiting an extra day or up to maybe three if I had to. (And, to be fair, this was all before a certain virus exploded into chaos here in the US.) Much to my dismay, a week before NH release day, I checked the order status with Target only to be told I wouldn't get it until the 26th. A week later. That was pretty disappointing at the time, but it didn't really bother me until the day before and the day of launch when some people were getting their pre-orders early from places like Amazon and Best Buy (and some of them didn't even pay for the express shipping option from their selected source). If those two companies could plan around virus constraints to do that, why in the heck couldn't Target? But, okay, fine. Maybe the virus had something to do with it and they were really doing the best they could. Whatever. A week. Fine. I'll wait a week. A few days later though, we got an email saying: Surprise! Don't expect your dumb video game until April 3rd because we couldn't get our act together! (Okay, that's not what it really said, but that's what it felt like.) And I know, I promise I so know there are much more serious issues going on in the world right now and a video game about talking animals isn't exactly a priority shipment. I know. But it was still massively upsetting after I'd already waited so long. And, honestly, I feel like they had plenty of time and notice to take care of the game before everything else exploded and messed it all up. Again, especially if other companies already had time to even ship orders early and/or get the games to people on launch day. Or the day after. TWO WEEKS after launch, and you don't tell me about the secondary delay until the week I started expecting the game to already be in the mail on it's way to me? The only tiny silver lining is that as I was checking the order to make sure it didn't miraculously get pushed back to sometime in 2021 (because I really had no faith in Target's time estimates at this point) is that it did get bumped back up to April 1st. Although, I did think that it would be the absolute least funny April Fools' Day Joke ever if the day came and it was late because screw me. But it did arrive to me on April 1st as promised; I just had a million other things to do before I could play it. ) And I will say, I know I could've just canceled the pre-order and bought the game digitally, but it was enough of a hassle to order it in the first place, and if I did that I'd also lose my pre-order bonus. And all that aside, I specifically wanted a physical copy to begin with. I always prefer that when it's possible. So people on the internet that want to eat me alive for not canceling when the shipping got screwed up, there are my reasons. Take 'em or leave 'em. (Seriously, I've seen some people be really rude about this just because they didn't like hearing people upset that they didn't have the game yet...when they already had it themselves or didn't care about AC in the first place...) Moral of the story: Don't pre-order from Target. Or, at least, don't expect the item to actually get to you right around release day. Account for at least two additional weeks of not having the thing. ...Seriously though, how do you sell out of a pre-order?? At least, when it's a highly anticipated game and you're a big company and not some small indie company with limited resources! Sheesh! Anyway. I have the game now, I've been playing it as much as possible and enjoying it. I still have a ways to go before my island is "complete" per se, but it's coming along nicely and I feel more comfortable now taking some more time away from it to get back into the swing of making art and things like that. So hopefully I'll be getting back into a regular posting schedule and you'll have that to look forward to.

#animalcrossing #newhorizons

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underoossss · 6 years ago

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Pushing Me Away - T.H

pairing: college!tom x college!reader

warnings: its a bit angsty but its me so theres always fluff and a happy ending. I’m sorry if this sucks!

This is for @starksparker ‘s Jonas Brothers writing challenge. I took inspo on the song and wrote a lil college au.

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People talk and Tom hates it.

Sure, since the beginning it’s been his own fault. He had no one else to blame but himself for the reputation he built. He had been the player, the heartless boy at frat parties who flirted with every other girl and never called them back. He didn’t use to care about what people said, but now he hates it. Not because it hurt him, he was way pass that, but he hates it because its ruining what could be the best thing in his life.

Three semesters ago, Tom had decided it was enough. His grades had flopped considerably almost costing him his scholarship and they almost kicked him out of the basketball team. It had been eye opening, seeing how close he had been to losing what had worked so hard for in a matter of months. So Tom stopped. But the fact that he did, didn’t necessarily mean everyone else stopped talking about him.

Two semesters after his decision he met you. It had been in a third year psychology class, when he had arrived just in time for the lecture and taken the only available seat next to you. You had lent him a pencil when he couldn’t find his and offered him a smile when he had bashfully thanked you. Tom would be lying if he said he didn’t start falling for you right then and there. Your conversations always brought a laugh out of him and he had never felt so free to be himself like when he was with you. His feelings had developed from that moment onwards and he tried to let you know. He asked you out to get coffee, brought an extra snack to class one time and tried to get your attention whenever you were at one of his games.

Your response was the same every time, rejection, the softest ‘no, I’m okay’ that’s ever been said.

With every rejection Tom remembered the rumors and all the past actions that follow him like a shadow. If he could go back in time, he would, anything to erase whichever idea you had formed about him in your mind. He was determined to forget about you, you’d be better off without him anyway, and he wouldn’t be hurting so much every time you pushed him away. But then summer came along and something happened, something he still can’t forget.

-----

“Fine. Yeah, okay Matthew I’ll wait here. See you.”

Tom recognized your voice as he walked down Main street to pick up an errand for his mom. He looked up from his phone to see you sitting cross-legged on the hood of your car, frowning at the screen of your phone. The sun was high in the sky and but the heat wasn’t as bad as it had been at the beginning of the summer. Tom had an inner battle with his heart for a minute as he decided whether or not talking to you was a good idea, and damn his heart for winning.

He pocketed his phone and took a few steps towards you before waving his hand. “Hey.” He smiled, “Is everything okay?”

You looked up and gave him a small smile, “Tom, hi. Umm not really, my car won’t start and my brother won’t be able to come and help me for at least 40 minutes.”

Tom stuffs his hands in the pocket of his jeans, “I wish I could helped but I walked, I had jumper cables in my trunk.”

You shrugged, “It’s alright I can wait.”

Tom scratched the back of his neck nervously, what if he asks you out for lunch? Would you say yes? “I was going to pick up something from Mrs. Granger’s store for my mom and then grab some lunch. Would you um… would you like to come with me?”

You gave him a long look, and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt under your gaze before you nodded your head and smiled. Tom let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and held out his hand for you to take so you can get off the hood of your car. He couldn’t help smiling at the way sparks seemed to fly when your hands touched and he swore his hand was still tingling even after you let go. Tom was worried it was a mistake, just another way to get himself hurt if you decided to change your mind and pushed him away once more. But he had to try, he would keep trying even if the rumors about him weighted on his shoulders as a constant reminder of what you probably thought of him. But he pushed everything to the back of his mind, except you. Thirty minutes and three slices of pizza later he could only focus on the way you laughed, nose scrunched up in the middle of your face and head thrown back. He was floating, he couldn’t stop smiling, he thought things couldn’t get better and that maybe you realized that what people said wasn’t true anymore. Maybe you knew he had changed.

He walked you back to your car when your brother told you he was on his way to help you get home and he loved the way they conversation hadn’t stopped for a second since he asked you for lunch. This is what he wanted, for you to be at ease and not guarded every time he tried to do something nice for you. He wanted you to know he cares. But then the two of you said your goodbyes, your faces close together and an unexpected kiss happened. One of his hands was on your cheek while yours were on his shoulders. It was soft, and slow and better than what Tom could’ve dreamed off. It seemed too good to be true and it was.

“I-I’m sorry.” You said quickly when you pulled away, taking a step back. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why?” Tom could hear how small his voice sounded but he didn’t care. “Y/N, please just- tell me what I’m doing wrong here because I’m lost. Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine okay. I should’ve said no to lunch and avoided this, I’m sorry.” You closed your eyes tightly, taking another step back and shaking your head when Tom took a step forward. “I don’t want to be heartbroken because of you, I don’t want to be another one of your girls. Is that why you’ve been trying to ask me out? We’re complete opposites so of course that’s why! It’s the only explanation.”

“Y/N… That’s not- I won’t-” Tom could feel tears stinging his eyes, he knew this would happen but never knew it’d hurt this much. “Let me explain, please.”

You closed your eyes and tears started streaming down your face, “You should just go. This isn’t good for either of us.” You crossed your arms and turned around so your back was facing him and your shoulders shaking the tiniest bit but Tom noticed.

He had made you cry, when it was the last thing he wanted to do. So Tom turned around and started walking back home.

------

It’s been two weeks since the kiss and the same feeling of longing and heartbreak still lingers in Tom’s chest. He had avoided all the places he knew you’d probably be at, and he was thankful that classes wouldn’t start until the end of the month. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, he didn’t want you to think he was still chasing after you, because he wasn’t. Because this wasn’t a chase, it was a boy in love, who had no control over what people said. Only over his own actions and that should be enough. That should be enough! Rumors exist and people always talk, sure he can’t change the past but he has changed a whole damn lot in the past year and a half. If people don’t notice, who cares, he has noticed and he’s proud of where he is now. Y/N had given him her explanation but didn’t let him explain, she didn’t give him the chance. But Tom needed to explain, it’s not fair for either of them to be apart only because of something that was in the past but people were far too bored to let it go. He knows they have something, they may even have a chance, he just needs to explain.

So Tom gets out of bed and after barely leaving the house for weeks, he puts on his converse and walks uptown to try his luck at finding Y/N. He visits your favorite shops, the bookstore, the small bakery at Hawthorne street but he doesn’t spot you until he gets to the farmers’ market. You were paying for some tomatoes and thanking the lady who sold them to you before walking to another stand. Tom is frozen on the spot, he wants to chicken out but he wills himself to walk towards you.

“Y/N!”

You turn around at the sound of your name, your hair following your movements in slow motion. The red t-shirt you wear contrasting with the light wash high waited jeans you wore and the black sneakers on your shoes. You looked beautiful as always and if Tom wasn’t so nervous he’d probably feel like he’s inside a movie. Specially during the moment when the protagonist sees the love interest walk in for the first time but right now he’s too busy finding his voice. “Tom?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Hi, what are you doing here?”

“I-I’m here to see you.” He takes a step closer to you, “I need to talk to you and explain myself. I know you’ve heard things about me, but I’d like to explain everything to you myself. I’m not the guy from the rumors anymore, just…”

“Okay.” You nod your head, shouldering a green cloth tote full of vegetables. “I do owe it to you, I didn’t let you explain before. Milkshake?” You ask nodding towards the diner across the street, a hint of a smile on your face.

Tom sighs in relief, nodding his head and letting you lead the way to the diner. He runs his fingers through his hair as he walks next to you, stopping at the traffic light to cross the street. “So, how have you been?”

“Umm, I’ve been better.” You sigh but send a small smile his way as you cross the street, “It was my turn to get the groceries this week. What about you?”

Tom chuckles before opening the door for you, “About the same.” Hoping we can be together after this talk and dreading your answer being no.

“Two chocolate milkshakes please.” Tom tells the server taking their order, smiling at your surprise when he remembers chocolate is your favorite. “And fries?”

You nod your head, “Always. Thank you.”

Tom clears his throat once the server leaves, “Umm. I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning?” You prompt with a smile.

Tom doesn’t want to admit it but it is enough to ease his nerves. “When I first started universities I was a mess, and I know I was a player. But everyone gets a wakeup call eventually, I had mine and decided to change. I stopped going to frat parties, and you can say parties altogether. I cut off toxic friendships, I’ve been focusing on the basketball team and keeping my scholarship, and honestly I love this version of myself. I had been back on track for two semesters when I met you and you let me have one of your pencils in that psych lecture.” He pauses to dip a fry in his milkshake before speaking again, holding out his hand towards you on the table.

“Everything I’ve done, every time we have a conversation and every laugh has been real Y/N. I’m not trying to play you, I genuinely care about you, I fell in love with you. I hate myself for getting such a bad reputation all those years ago because I know I’ll probably never get you to trust me because of it.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “I just want a chance to prove it to you. Let me show you that this Tom, your Tom is not that guy from the rumors anymore.”

Tom feels his heart rate stop the second your hand takes his and the gentle squeeze that follows makes him look up. “Yes.”

“Hm?” His eyebrows furrow in the middle in confusion, “Yes what?”

“Yes, to everything. Every coffee, every invitation and snack you’ve ever offered me and I said no because I was too caught up in what other people said and my own fear to take the chance. I’m sorry, Tom, I’m so sorry for any pain that I probably caused you.” You shake your head with a frown, “I feel like a coward. I didn’t act on my feelings because I was too afraid a rumor might come true.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Tom’s smile is hurting, his chest is going to explode and that feeling of walking on air from a few weeks back had settled on his body again. “The past should stay in the past don’t you think?”

You nod your head, a similar smile on your face. “I guess you’re right. So umm, you-“

“Love you? Yes.” His thumb rubs the back of your hand, not wanting to let go. He’s too content to be embarrassed about blurting out all of his feelings.

“I do too. Love you, I mean. I think it happened last semester which is why I tried to distance myself even more…” You shake your head again in disbelief. “How about we start over?”

Tom smiles, standing up and holding out his hand. “Hello, I’m Tom Holland.”

“Hi, Tom I’m Y/N L/N.” You stand up and shake his hands, laughing halfway at your antics.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me?” He asks, taking a step closer to you and squeezing you hand.

“I’d love to, do milkshakes and fries sound good to you?” You look up at him in question as you take a step forward, biting back a smile when he starts laughing.

“Sounds perfect.” He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours and sighing in content. “Thank you, for trusting me.”

“No Tom, “ You whisper back, your arms going around his waist and your head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you, for not giving up on this even when I pushed you away.”

“I guess we’re even then.” You hear the smile on his voice which makes you hug him tighter, you’d be dammed it you let go.

“Yeah we are.” You stand back to kiss his cheek. “Come on, our fries are getting cold.”

Yeah, people talk about you and will continue to do so. But its your decision whether to carry that weight on your shoulder or shrug it off. Tom’s going to shrug it off and help you carry that green grocery bag instead.

tagging: @peterstrainingwheels

#kaylees jonas brothers wc #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland college au #college au #pauwrites

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crimsonbluemoon · 6 years ago

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H2O Vanoss: Merman

Final one! Okay, so this is my OTP and this idea actually was my LEAST favorite at first, but now? Now I love it. ugh, I’m a mess. Please enjoy this monster of a HeadCanon! ^.^

H2OVanoss Merman

Basis: Evan is a merman prince of an undersea kingdom, Del is a struggling artist who is in desperate need of a beach vacation according to his friend Luke.

IDEAS (...Basically just a story)

The story starts when Evan is about to assume the reign of his kingdom, as a sign of his coming of age on his 25th birthday. During the banquet just before the coronation, one of his advisors gives him a drink poisoned with human blood, known to mermaid’s as “The Loner’s Curse.”

The poison weakens him to be stronger than humans but weaker than mermaids, and also turns him human. The advisor and some of his henchman subdue him and end up stranding Evan on shore, tying him to a post so he’ll drown when the tide comes in.

Instead, Delirious finds him while finding a morning surf shore that he and Luke had taken for the summer while Luke took over his uncle’s beach house and surf shop (with Delirious assisting him.) Evan is almost drowning when Delirious spots him, so once Delirious unties him he’s stuck dragging an unconscious Evan back to the beach house, where Luke and Del get him cleaned up.

Luke berates Del about not dragging dead people into the house again as they’re doing this.

When Evan wakes up, he’s stuck as a human and has to find a way to reverse the poison that’s still in his system and get back to his kingdom and save it. He keeps track of the poison by looking at his veins in the moonlight, and where his veins glow is where the poison has reached.

If the poison reaches his heart, he’ll literally drown in human blood and die. Thankfully, he has Delirious to help him, and Luke when he’s not managing the shop.

Not that any of them have ANY idea what they’re doing.

In the process of searching for a cure, there’s really cute moments! Evan hates being human (walking, the increased metabolism/need for sleep, basically everything to do with a human body) until he eats pizza for the first time. He’s literally addicted to the pizza from Panda’s Pizza Parlor, which has the best pizza on the coast.

He also likes Panda, who can always tell exactly what kind of pizza he wants with a single glance (he does this with all his customers, and gives Evan an anchovy special each time he walks in, heavy on the fish.)

Delirious absolutely refuses to try it, no matter how much Evan tries to get him to eat it (“They’ve still got their eyes, Evan! I can’t eat no fish eyes, they’re still looking at me an- and making me feel bad!”)

Evan is NOT used to wearing clothes and keeps “losing” them. The number of times that Delirious has turned around to/walking in on/returned to a shirtless or entirely naked Evan most definitely contributes to his attraction to the merman prince and his extreme embarrassment.

Evan only really likes this one shark tooth necklace that Delirious bought for Evan, as it helps him to comfort him when there are too many people around.

Evan can’t be left alone in the house because he breaks SO MUCH STUFF. Luke has had to replace most minor appliances and is very tempted to “take a gutting knife to the damn fish already and have some peace again.”

Fire at the beach: Del teaches Vanoss how to dance for the first time, super intimate and romantic.

Girls flirting with Evan at the surf shop annoys Delirious to the point of “accidentally” knocking a soda onto the girls and making them leave.

Luke is torn between snickering and groaning at the loss of profit

Del comes into Evan’s room in the middle of night because he’s crying in pain from the poison

This starts the tradition of then sleeping next to each other every night (despite Luke teasing Del every morning)

Del asks Evan about merepeople’s sexuality and kinda discovers Evan’s into men over women

Del teaches Evan how to surf (and fails miserably).

They almost kiss for the first time before a wave pushes them away from each other and ruins the moment

Evan stumbles in on Delirious trying to draw in the window seat of the beach house, but from the crumpled up drawings and broken pencils, it’s obvious he’s not having any luck. Evan doesn’t know the first thing about art, but he likes to watch Delirious draw, and is genuinely interested in how he makes drawings and why he chooses certain styles or lines for parts of the picture.

Del is a bit nervous talking about it at first, but as he answers Evan’s questions, he relaxes. By the time the questions are done, Del’s drawn a picture without even really realizing what he was doing.

It ends up being a picture of Evan from the waist up, and Delirious ends up asking about what Evan looks like as a mermaid (the color of his scales, his tail length, etc). He draws Evan’s full form from the answers, and Evan is bittersweet looking at the picture of what he may never be again. But he asks if he can keep the picture, which Del lets him, worried when Evan leaves the room that he’s made a mistake drawing it.

One day when Evan is suuuuper stressed after a lead on the cure goes bust (their informant cancels on them), Delirious takes him to a carnival to cheer up. Evan’s instantly taken in by the sounds and colors, which nearly overwhelm him until Delirious grabs his hand and shows him how fun everything can be.

Evan decides that cotton candy is the absolute best, candy apples are from hell (“Delirious, get this stupid thing off my face!” as the caramel adheres to his cheek), and he’s NOT a fan of heights. But he’s watched a lot of romantic movies with Luke over the past two weeks, and he knows that Ferris wheels are a romantic thing that people do. And he’s… kinda into Delirious, so he wants to go on it despite his fear of heights, insisting that his shaking knees and sweaty palms are from the poison (“Evan, that doesn’t make me feel better!”)

Delirious pretends that he’s scared of heights to keep Evan from going on it, and they end up going on one of those little helicopter rides instead that go up and down in a circle, and Evan absolutely loves it.

When they get back home, Evan is left alone with Luke while Delirious grabs all the prizes they won from Evan being OP at carnival games. Luke asks if Delirious “made a move on you” on the Ferris wheel, as it’s his favorite ride. This leaves Evan confused, telling Luke that he was scared of it, but the Southerner is stubborn in his insistence that the wheel is his favorite “fucking stupid ride.”

When Delirious comes back, he confesses that he does love the Ferris wheel, but also says that the carnival was supposed to be for Evan, to make him feel better, and Delirious would rather have fun with Evan than make him go on a ride he’s terrified of.

Essentially, it’s their first date, and it goes very, very well.

Luke: “Man, if all I had to do was convince you it was a date to stay off that ride, we’d be on our tenth anniversary by now!” and that’s what makes them realize it’s a date

However, there’s still angst… because now they realize that even if they can cure Evan, he’ll turn back into a mermaid and have to choose between his kingdom and Delirious.

Evan starts to pull away from Delirious as a result of this realization, not wanting to hurt him with his eventual departure. He can feel his soul missing Delirious, though.

He ends up in this mental limbo over the choice between Delirious and his duty to his kingdom, and ends up stumbling across this tiny aquarium on the edge of town.

Evan finds comfort in the small aquarium’s ocean window, and he ends up going there often when he’s overwhelmed or down on himself over the course of the summer.

And eventually, it’s his last night alive, as he hasn’t found a cure.

Evan goes there on his last night alive, as he doesn’t want to die in front of Delirious or the ocean.

He leaves a note explaining that he’s grateful to Delirious for everything he did. It’s a sweet goodbye, ending it with a wish that he could have told Delirious “how he felt.” He doesn’t think he’s ever going to have a chance to explain it.

He writes this note on the back of the drawing Del did for him, adding his own little mess of a doodle of Del swimming next to him as a merman.

It’s dark in the aquarium, as it’s closing time, and moonlight is streaming through the window where he’s sitting and his whole body save his upper chest lights up. The owner ends up sitting next to him, a man named Brian.

“I should have known you’re just like me. Focking’ Christ.” And then Brian leans over the table and kisses Evan.

Delirious runs in screaming for Evan, panicking over the note he found, to the sight of a very panicked and breathless Evan yanking free of Brian’s kiss, and he’s rightfully infuriated and confused at the both of them for everything that’s happening.

Brian reveals that he used to be a merman, but was poisoned on accident while trying to save a “kid” who fell over the edge of his father’s fishing boat and scratched up his hands trying to climb up.

Brian ended up swallowing some of his blood and was turned into a human, but was saved by the guy’s father.

Brian knows enough about mermaids to know that the cure to The Loner’s Curse is to “share air” with either a human or a mermaid, turning the afflicted into whichever species kisses them until they go into/leave the water. And the stronger the bond of affection between the two, the longer the curse will be gone for- but only true love’s kiss can truly “cure” it. So Brian bought Evan time, but can’t cure him.

Cue a frantic Delirious begging Evan to not die and not accept this. In his panic, Delirious asks Evan to kiss him, recounting their dates and intimate moments as reasons why it would work. Evan is scared to die, but is more terrified of kissing Delirious- because it’s a double-edged sword.

If he kisses Delirious and goes to the water and becomes a merman, then he’ll have to leave Delirious behind forever. But if he doesn’t turn into a merman, it’ll mean Delirious doesn’t love him, and he’ll lose him anyways when he dies of the uncured curse.

So Evan, almost-coronated prince of the undersea kingdom, does the mature thing and runs away. Again.

Delirious follows him to the beach, tackling him to the sand before he can reach the water. He’s crying, upset and in love with this stupid dying mer-prince, and when Evan tries to get away Delirious screams that he’s “in love with you, and I have to do this even though it’s gonna kill me to let you go. Cuz it’ll make you happy, and all I’ve ever wanted is that you’re happy!”

And when Evan is too stunned to reply, Delirious kisses him.

As they kiss, Evan’s whole body glows in the moonlight, the poisonous curse fading from his body. They break apart to breathe, but just as they go to kiss again the first wave washes over Evan’s body as the tide rises, and he starts to turn back into a merman in Delirious’s arms.

Evan starts to tell Delirious he loves him as well, but Delirious cuts him off, inconsolable as he realizes he can’t love Evan and have him. As he starts to walk away, Evan realizes Delirious looks like how he did when he first tried walking (wobbly and shaken), and also that this is the first time Delirious has ever really broken down in front of him.

Evan tries to call him back, but Delirious says that he’s got a kingdom to save, “and I’ve got another purpose to find.”

And then Delirious is running away down the beach, along the shoreline towards his house, and Evan is frantically swimming after him through the shallows trying to get him to come back.

The jetty wall stops him from following, and Delirious gives him one last look of love and pain before running back into his house and leaving Evan alone in the water.

Realizing that there’s nothing he can do, Evan goes back and saves his kingdom. It’s the least he owes Delirious and their lost love. He wins, but he’s still heartbroken.

Every day for a month, he goes to the beach to see if Delirious is there, but the man never appears.

Luke does show up, though, and absolutely rips into Evan for hurting Delirious and breaking his heart. He tells Evan how Delirious won’t surf, won’t go out, won’t even draw anything, and that “I hope your goddamn kingdom was worth it.” He tells Evan to never come back so Delirious will “find someone who can stand on his own two fucking legs and who won’t run away.”

Evan decides he’s gonna break into Brian’s aquarium, following the half-wild fish in through the pipes and scaring the absolute fuck out of Brian one night. He begs Brian to tell him how he’s still alive, as he’s seen Brian go in deep water and not turn back into a mermaid.

Brian tells him that the secret is to kiss the person whose blood he accidentally consumed (Evan yells at him for kissing a kid, but really the kid was a young adult whose father called him “kid” as long as Brian knew him. Brian and Brock are now happily married and Brian still teasingly calls him “kid” because his dad joked at their wedding that “the kid fell head over heels” for Brian.)

Which means that he has to drink Delirious’s blood and then kiss him and they can be happy!

The only problem is convincing Delirious to do that, which is where Brian, always a sucker for a happy ending and NOT having mermaids in his aquarium, offers his services of sticking Evan into a tank with a tarp on top and driving over to Delirious’s house.

Brock walks in on Brian putting the tarp over the tank, takes two seconds to look at Brian’s guilty face and Evan’s panicked eyes, and just takes a sip of his coffee before saying “Babe, I’m not gonna ask any questions so long as you buy me clams tonight” and walking away.

Brian mumbles “jokes on him, clams always makes the sex better later” and Evan’s like “please just drive me to Delirious and never talk to me about your sex life again.”

They drive to the house, and while Brian’s trying to pull Evan into the pool Luke walks out and gets suuuuuuuuper pissed at Evan for coming back.

Brian’s like “you like him?” and Evan’s all “no no I like the guy who showed up last time!” (“Who’s this, then, his new boyfriend?” “I’m his best friend, you dipshit!”) and it’s all a mess that ends up waking Delirious up.

When he comes outside and sees Evan and is absolutely flabbergasted and excited and very, very cautious. Evan, being the great person he is with words, asks Delirious if he can have some blood and then kiss him (“What the fuck, Evan?” “So I can live with you!”) And Luke is like, super done and tells him to fuck off and not to use “my best friend- whose heart you broke by the way- as a fucking sacrifice for your bullshit mermaid things!”

But when he tries to drag Delirious inside after telling Brian to go give him to Panda so he can be on one of those pizzas he liked so much, Delirious blurts out “why are you still wearing my necklace?”

Everything sort of pauses around the two of them as Evan tells him he’s still in love with him, that he hated every day he was gone but he had shit to take care of before he came back, and that even though he tried every day to find Delirious and say he was coming back he was never able to. And he ends his speech with

“Delirious, if I was gonna break your heart, it was gonna be for a damn good reason, and I wasn’t gonna leave it broken if I could come back.”

At this point Delirious goes quiet, and then looks to Brian and asks if the same rules apply about the kiss and going back in the water. Brian tells him the truth, which is that Evan would be with him forever, as a human, unless they weren’t in love anymore in which case he’d stay a mermaid.

Delirious then bites his own lip with enough force to make it bleed, which makes Evan panic a bit from the sight. But Delirious says he needs to do it to start the first part of the ceremony, because he’s still in love with Evan, and Luke is like “are you serious” and Brian’s like “are you sure? You can’t go back from this” and both Evan and Delirious are like “absolutely, yes.”

So they kiss, and Evan is getting poisoned by Delirious’s blood as he kisses him, and the whole thing is over in a literal flash as his body glows from the poison and is instantly cured.

Has legs! It worked! And now Delirious, who is laughing and crying in happiness, is hauling him out of the pool and it’s happy all around (except for Luke, who warns him to not touch a single goddamn thing in the house without someone watching him.)

And they lived happily ever after.

#H2O Vanoss #Vanossgaming #H2O Delirious #Moodboard #BSPBingo #<3 #Crimson Moodboards

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metaphoricallyroger · 6 years ago

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With Love, From Me to You - iii of iv [R.T.]

Summary: One-hundred ways to say ‘I love you’ over twenty-eight years.

Words: 3,387

Warnings: Implied smut.

Note: This follows both Bohemian Rhapsody’s and real-life events (generally for dates, minor plot etc.), picture whichever Roger you fancy! The title is taken from ‘From Me To You’ by The Beatles.

51. (1977):

“Were you seriously just checking out that woman’s legs?” It wasn’t much to ask, you thought, to have a little attention from your boyfriend whom you haven’t seen for weeks.

But apparently, said boyfriend was too engrossed in the leg length of a party attendee.

“Her legs were longer than Brian’s, how could I not look?”

“I noticed too, but that doesn’t mean I stare when I’ve got my girlfriend sitting on my lap!” You screech and ignore his childlike poking to get a hold of your cigarette.

When Roger goes quiet, you look to the left to find him smiling affectionately at you. You raise your eyebrows, waiting to see what he wants.

“Can I hold your hand?”

His cheeky grin wins you over.

52. (1977):

The day seems to drag on and on as the rain slides down the windows of the recording studio while Queen tries to lay down tracks for their latest album.

Roger sighs and takes the headphones off after having finished his harmonies and watches Freddie put his own on, ready to do just as Roger had been.

“Taylor, your girlfriend is here,” the sound technician drones into the microphone without sparing you a glance.

Roger barrels through the door of the control room, much to the protests of his bandmates, grinning widely.

“I thought you had work today?” He says, giving you a surprised kiss.

“Got let off early. Thought you could use a distraction,” you smile. Roger returns it, immensely happy to get out of the studio if only for a brief period.

53. (1978):

Your head pops out of the duvet, peering at Roger with puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry that I made you cry,” Roger holds up the flowers he nicked from the neighbour’s yard which were really weeds.

“It’s not your fault,” you wipe at your red nose, “I’m hormonal on my period.”

“I really shouldn’t have eaten the last of that chocolate, I’ll buy you more, I swear.” He puts the ‘flowers’ on the bedside table and crawls into the bed.

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you much like one would a baby.

“You will?”

“I’ll get you two,” he smacks a kiss against your cheek.

54. (1978):

Your hand moves across Roger’s forehead as he rests himself in your lap.

“One more chapter.”

“Roger, you’re falling asleep.” You can’t help but smile at the sleepy man who continuously burrows his nose into your thigh as you turn the pages of your book.

“It’s because you’re rubbing my head. You’re to blame here.”

You remove your hand but the fussy Roger grabs it and puts it right back to where it was.

“I think you’re tired because you just got back from tour. But if you insist, one more only.”

The blonde on your lap is suddenly quiet, asleep.

55. (1978):

You and Roger lay side by side late into the night when neither of you can sleep and this usually resorts to a game of questions until one of you falls under.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” He asks one insomnia-filled night. It wasn’t uncommon for questions to turn to the future, but the topic of children was yet to appear.

“With you?”

“With whomever,” he gestures in the air and you can feel the breeze on your face as his hand lands on the bed again.

“I’ve never really liked them if I’m honest.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding dejected.

“I think I’d like kids with you though.” You roll onto your side to look at his shining eyes.

“You would?”

“Yes. Could you imagine tiny Roger’s running around? We might prematurely age Brian.”

“Can we start now?” Despite the darkness, you can see his profile shift as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“We can practise how not to get pregnant.”

“Deal,” he rolls you to your back and climbs on top of you, laughing.

56. (1979):

“Have you ever thought about getting married?”

“Are you asking me if I want to get married to you?” You roll onto your stomach and prop yourself on your elbows, looking at Roger as he does the same.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“And you decided that four o’clock in the morning would be a good time to ask?” His tongue-in-teeth grin is all you need to know.

“Seemed like as good a time as any.”

“Alright.” Your hand subconsciously begins to trace around your ring finger where one was yet to appear.

“That a yes?”

“Seems so,” you mock and giggle when he bites your lip, dragging you back down to the mattress of a hotel in Hamburg.

57. (1979):

Brian has been graceful enough to lend you his camera after you left your own at home, and you were using every moment of your day with Roger to snap photos of the sights (which mainly included your fiancée in them).

“Love, you’re clogging up the flow of traffic, we’re going to get yelled at.”

“Yeah, but look at all of this, doesn’t it excite you?” Your hands make a sweeping motion over the city. You can’t decide what to focus on, the stores and markets Tokyo have to offer are unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“Seeing you excited makes me happy. Now come on,” he takes your hand, “let’s go get ripped off by a stall owner.”

58. (1979):

“Come on, let’s go outside.” Roger gives you a gentle tap on the arse.

“Why?”

“Because you’re about two seconds away from eating that pencil you’re chewin’.” You’ve decided to quit smoking after years of doing so, and it wasn’t proving as easy as you thought. The pencil acts as a placebo and aided a bit, aside from the fact that you’ll need a new one soon and probably dental work.

“What’s the point in this walk? It’s chilly.” You drag your feet along the concrete of the footpath that’s damp from afternoon showers.

“It’ll keep your mind off it. Besides,” he raises his eyebrows, “you get to look at my perky arse when I walk.”

Roger turns where he is leading you and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Could you get your cigarette breath out of my face, please?”

“You’ve got cigarette breath too, I don’t know what you’re complaining about.” He plants an even sloppier kiss for effect.

“Not for long anymore, trust me, next time you’re home from tour I’ll be minty fresh.”

“Is that a promise?” He tilts his head, and you could compare him to a puppy if you thought about it.

“More like a threat.”

59. (1980):

Freddie has taken it upon himself to be the EMCee of the event and has decided that people have been sitting around for far too long and not having any fun. A soft, romantic ballad that neither you nor Roger knew plays from speakers, clearly showing that you both were not in charge of the music. It’s time for your first dance as a married couple.

“Can I have this dance?” Roger glances up at you from where you just finished talking to guests at another table.

“Thought you’d never ask, Mrs Taylor.”

60. (1980):

After sneaking out of your own wedding, you and Roger stand in a conveniently unlocked, large, supply cupboard.

“You sure you want to do this?” You grin, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “we’re the bride and groom, I think we’ll be missed.”

“Who cares?” Roger bites his lip and smirks. “It’s our wedding, after all.”

“You’re going to have to help me with my dress.”

61. (1980):

Whilst in the South of France on your honeymoon, Roger decides on both of your behalf’s that it is important for him to buy a Ferrari.

When you get the phone call that Roger just trashed his car, your fear-riddled mind thinks that he’s been gravely injured. That clearly isn’t the case because your husband is the one talking to you and still swearing in that high-pitched tone he affects when he’s angry.

“You’ve crashed your car?”

“No, I didn’t crash, the bloody things shit itself and caught on fire!” You hear a thump from the other end of the line and can picture Roger kicking the phone box in frustration.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, but my Ferrari is.”

He sounds more upset about the car rather than the fact that he could have died.

“Roger, I don’t care about the car, just about whether you’re okay. Where are you?”

During the time it took him to tell you where he was you had already grabbed the rental car keys and ran your fingers over the teeth of the Mercedes one anxiously.

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

62. (1980):

A bulky letter awaits Roger as he returns to his hotel room after soundcheck for the concert in Pittsburgh. He picks up the phone to call home, knowing with the time difference you’d be the only one left awake in the house at this time.

“Hey, love.”

“Did you get my letter?” Too electrified to contain yourself, you ask before you greet him, worrying that the letter you gave to Brian to give to Roger somehow got lost in the woes of international travel. You gave specific instructions, that he was under no circumstances allowed to open, and it was to be handed off when Roger became homesick or too stressed.

“Just did, but I haven’t read it yet. Should I now?”

“No!” You screech. “You have to wait until I’m off the phone.”

“So should I hang up now?”

“You have to tell me about your day first,” you know he can hear your teasing tone.

Roger begins telling you about his day, holding the phone between ear and shoulder, discreetly opening the letter and watching polaroids slip out with a smirk.

63. (1981):

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you wince, “my stomach just feels a bit off. That’s all.”

“Would you like me to rub your stomach?”

“I’m not one of Freddie’s cats.” Even with those words, you lie between Roger’s legs, back to chest so his hands flit comfortingly across your stomach.

64. (1981):

“I figured out why my stomach has been weird.”

“I told you not to eat that old take out. Didn’t you learn from that disaster years ago?” Roger barely spares you a look from the magazine he is reading.

“You’re going to be a father in the near future.”

His eyebrows hit his hairline as you sit next to him.

“I’m what?”

“You, me, parents.” You punctuate each word with a slight kiss.

“Parents,” he trails off, eyes stuck on the inconspicuous bump under your dressing gown.

65. (1981):

You were practically falling asleep next to Roger on the lounge at Freddie’s party despite the raucous and debauched atmosphere.

You adjust yourself against his shoulder and brace yourself as another server comes to offer you champagne once again.

“She’s not drinking tonight.” Roger easily dismisses the servers but takes a flute for himself.

“You pregnant or something, Y/N?” You look up at Brian who has a knowing look on his face.

You have a look of elation as you glance at him, causing the band members around you, family really, and their wives to all laugh.

66. (1981):

“Look after your Mum, okay?” You struggle to hold back a laugh as Roger gets down to his knees in the middle of the busy airport. He speaks directly to your stomach and his lashes flutter when he feels movement under his placed hand.

“They’ve still got two months before we meet them, I’ll be fine, Roger.”

“I know, I just worry.” His brows draw together as he looks up at you.

“I’ve got plenty of help, and Mum and Chrissy will be a wealth of knowledge. Believe me, this baby is well looked after, and so am I.”

You wrap one arm around his neck and your free hand over his, still resting against your stomach. You had thought that the constant touching on Roger’s behalf would drive you up the wall, and it has to a certain extent, but now you knew you are going to miss it.

“I’m still calling every chance I get.”

“You’d better.” You share a kiss before he pulls away with a smirk after the boys call out to him.

67. (1981):

“Watch your step.”

Roger helps you up the stairs to the nursery with a careful hand on your lower back. Typically, him fussing annoys the living daylights out of you but because you knew what he was doing today it was a welcome fussing.

“What do you think?” His hand uncovers your eyes.

“You did all of this?”

You were shipped out of the house to spend some time with Mary while Roger, with the help of his band members decorated and put together the flat-pack furniture you’d been seeing arrive the previous days.

The room has everything a baby could possibly need, and the change table was already stocked with enough nappies, wipes and baby powder to sink a battleship.

“Well, I did get some help from Fred on the decorating and Brian and John with the cot and such.” He blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

“But it was your idea.”

“All mine.” You wrap your arms around his neck and sway with him gently, kissing his stubbly jawline every so often.

“I think the baby will be very happy here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you smile whimsically, “especially with this.” You walk over to the cot and pick up the stuffed lion you had given him all those years ago.

“How could I forget about him? He’s important to us.”

68. (1981):

“You did well.”

“Only well?” You grin down at the tiny, fragile figure in your arms you have given life to. Roger passed her back once she started to fall asleep, and she now rests with her hand tucked in a fist under a rosy cheek.

“She’s perfect already, I’d say you did amazing.” His eyes are glistening with unbridled joy as he glances down at the yet-to-be-named Baby Taylor.

“Yeah, I don’t think we need anything for Christmas this year,” you joke.

69. (1982):

You and Roger practically went into hibernation mode after you had Zoe, and haven’t seen the band since before she was born. They all sit in your living room, passing her back and forth between each other and cooing every time she lets out a little grunt or a happy noise.

“Would you look at that, the little darling looks like Rog.” Freddie notices as he looks down at the baby currently snuggled in John’s arms.

“She’ll have his chin, I bet,” John smiles at the sleeping angel.

“Oh God,” Brian moans, “another Taylor running around.” You can see he doesn’t mean it as he has a small smile on his face when Zoe wraps her finger around his tightly.

Roger feels slightly defensive over his new baby, but he knows Brian is just ribbing him and smirks at the taller man.

“Yeah but this one is extra important because she’s half Y/N.”

70. (1982):

Since she was born, Zoe hasn’t slept through an entire night, and it was beginning to take its toll on you and Roger. You both love being parents, but the intimacy you once shared is no longer the same.

The intimacy comes in quiet moments when you’re looking after the baby, and you get to watch Roger’s smiles and one-sided conversations with her. It’s an even deeper form of intimacy that only comes when you share the role of caregiver.

“Roger, I’m tired, I’m not really in the mood.”

“Want to watch the telly instead?” Roger pulls back from where he was sucking on your neck and settles next to you, already grabbing for the remote.

“Are you sure?” You worry your bottom lip.

You miss being in bed with Roger, and the way he makes you feel when he’s pressed deep inside you, but you’re just so tired.

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.” He plants a kiss on your cheek and positions himself so you can lay on his chest, hand rubbing his hip.

71. (1982):

Roger pays an extravagant amount for flowers in the shop down the street from the restaurant where your work dinner is taking place. He knows that no expensive bunch of flowers can make up for being late to something that means a lot to you.

“Love! I’m so, so, sorry,” he tries to catch his breath as he finds you, about to get into the car.

“I really didn’t mean to-”

“No, I get it. Busy being a rock star and all,” you don’t even look at him as you unlock the doors, handing him the keys to drive.

“It’s not that at all,” he pleads, “I swear I didn’t mean to be late.”

“Whatever, let’s just go home.”

72. (1983):

“Look, Zoe, there’s your daddy,” you coo to the toddler waddling beside you.

“Hi, Bubs!” He calls to her. You and Roger barely stand three feet apart, arms extended in case she falls over. He missed her first steps but won’t miss her fully walking on her own as her little feet stomp over to him to wrap around his knees.

“Hello,” you smile as Roger scoops the giggling girl into his arms.

“I’m so glad to be back,” Roger sighs. You wrap one arm around his shoulder in a hug and let him guide you out of the busy airport.

73. (1983):

“Say it, say ‘dada’, Zoe.” You watch Roger with wide eyes as he moves his head side to side with every syllable.

“She’s not going to say it if you tell her to.”

“She will just you wait. Taylor women are very smart, just need some persuasion, that’s all.” He grabs the lion out of her hands and holds it above her fair head.

“Dada!” She finally shrieks and extends her arms to try and grab her lion back.

“See! So smart, just like her mother.”

“I’d yell too if you snatched my toy away.” You still sit down next to the pair and celebrate with them, mainly Roger, because Zoe’s too young to get why this is a big deal.

74. (1983):

You’re standing under the warmth of the shower spray when Roger barges into the room, raging about something or other to do with a new song.

“I’m trying to understand, Roger,” you sigh.

“I feel like I can’t tell you anything anymore,” he leans against the bathroom sink. You open the glass door of the shower with wide eyes, uncaring about your nakedness, paralysed.

“What? You’re my best friend, you absolutely can.” You grab onto his elbow when he scoffs and goes to turn away.

“I know I can. I want to, believe me. It’s just … hard.”

“It may take time, but you can tell me anything. Surely you have to know that.” You hold out your hand and invite him into the shower.

75. (1983):

Roger opens his eyes with a groan as the bright mid-morning sunlight streams into the room due to your opening of the curtains and windows.

“It smells like a brewery in here, get up.” You pull back the sheets and begin to remove them, rolling Roger’s dead weight across the mattress as he isn’t making any attempt to move.

“I’m hungover,” he moans.

“Whose fault is that hm? Not mine.”

“Can’t you leave me alone for once? I don’t feel well.” He rests his palm across his forehead and looks up at you with pleading eyes. It doesn’t do anything.

“That would have worked if you didn’t throw up all over my floor at four o’clock in the morning. You’re an adult, not a five year old. You should know when you aren’t feeling well.”

“I don’t know I’m not feeling great when I’m that drunk!”

“I understand that you’re having troubles with the band but if you keep coming home drunk, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to sleep.”

“You’re going to kick me out? Of my own house?”

“I paid for half of this house too, don’t forget.”

You pause and try to take a softer tone, brushing sun-streaked golden hair out of his eyes.

“I just want to help you, Roger. You don’t want to tell me what’s wrong and I’m already worried about you. Would you like a hug?”

Roger half crawls, half wiggles his way over to you.

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody imagine

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kyle-valenti · 5 years ago

Text

As the Sun Sets, the Moon Rises (2/8)

Chapter 2

“Why can’t you go stay over at their house.” Kyle groans upon hearing that Michael, once again, is going to have the Evans’ twins over and he’d be stuck hanging out with three weirdos instead of just one. All Max did was read and all Isobel did was stare or talk about barbies and Princess Jasmine and while Michael's weird enough to put up with them, they bore Kyle.

“Because then it wouldn’t annoy you,” Michael snaps back. “What do you care anyway, just go over to Alex’s.”

Kyle glares, throwing down his pencil on the dining room table they’re failing to complete their ninth grade homework at. “I don’t want to go over to Alex’s! He was supposed to come here and now your dumb friends ruined it.”

“Mijos! Cállate,” their mom yells at them from the kitchen, and they both sheepishly stop despite her not even being in the room. She comes in quickly, angrily pointing a spatula at them. “Michael and his friends will sleep in the living room and you and Alex can sleep in the bunk beds, bueno? Now finish your homework or you both will have no friends over.”

“Yes, mom,” they mirror in unison, despite the fact that they glare at each other the second she leaves.

Kyle throws his eraser at a glaring Michael but the rubber somehow misses last minute and the curly blonde smirks. “Learn how to throw better.”

Angrily huffing, Kyle gets back to the math homework that Michael’s already blown through, while Michael works on the reading homework that Kyle finished an hour ago. Their looks weren’t the only opposite thing about them, after all.

***

When the Evans’ drop Max and Isobel off they come bearing all sorts of treats and snacks with them that Anne hands over to Kyle’s mom with a big smile. She’s always been weird like that, fretting over her children and making sure they were spoiled rotten. Kyle doesn’t understand why Michael doesn’t always stay over at their house. Max and Isobel had a much larger home and better movies and games, yet for some annoying reason, the twins almost always come to this house instead, gravitating to Kyle’s dad the second he was around. Their mom thinks it’s cute. Kyle thinks it’s even more infuriating.

Alex is dropped off by his mother as well, but there’s no treats involved. Opposite of Anne Evans, Jennifer Manes seems less fretful that her son is having a sleepover at someone else’s house and more eternally grateful. Kyle’s mom frowns and steps outside with her as they hurry Alex inside and shut the door. Wanting to listen more than anything, Kyle only pauses from going up to the door when Alex shakes his head and walks past Kyle to drop of his stuff in Kyle and Michael’s room. Max, Michael, an Alex watch them leave, looking curious but quickly more interested in each other.

“What’s going on?” Kyle asks, the second they’re out of listening range from the other kids. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex says, clearly faking a smile, and that spikes Kyle’s concern more than anything else. Alex drops his sleeping bag and backpack of clothes onto Kyle’s bed, fiddling with the backpack instead of looking back at Kyle or explaining further.

“Okay, but your mom isn’t,” he responds.

Alex blows out a long sigh, looking at the ceiling before turning back to Kyle and biting his lip. “Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not your mom or dad or Michael or anyone?”

Nodding, Kyle moved closer to where Alex was standing. “I think she’s going to leave us. She hates my dad now that he’s back from war. She barely even talks to me or Flint or Ryder. Just asks us if we’ve done our homework and tells us to go to the library or school or anywhere my dad isn’t.”

There’s no tears in Alex’s eyes, which Kyle doesn’t understand. If his mom was going to leave he’d be sobbing, not looking like a robot. It wasn’t like Kyle’s super surprised that someone would hate Jesse Manes… Alex’s father was often very angry, strict, and scary at points. Kyle’s dad said that was just because of the war, the horrible stuff that Alex’s dad had seen since being deployed to Afghanistan to kill the people who’d toppled the World Trade Centers. Somehow Kyle doesn’t think Jesse Manes knew how to keep the war overseas.

“Do you hate your dad?” Kyle asks. Maybe he should ask about Alex’s mom, but…

Alex stares, surprised for a second. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” he falters, feeling awkward for asking. “If your mom hates him… and your mom might leave… I would hate him.”

“You don’t think that’s horrible?” Alex asks, his eyes carefully narrowed, and his entire body still. There’s something about the question that’s off, though, even to a twelve year old. Almost like Alex is asking permission... “Hating someone you’re supposed to love?”

Kyle shakes his head. “I think I would understand.”

Swallowing, Alex nods. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we watch a movie?”

“The weirdos are out there,” Kyle responds, perhaps a little whiny. “Can’t we just stay here or go outside?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “They aren’t that weird. I don’t want to bike or swim, I just want to lie down for once.”

“Ugh,” Kyle groans. Of course he gave in, partly because his mother would kill him if he didn’t do what the “guest” wants, and partly because it was Alex. Best friends weren’t supposed to argue over stuff like that.

They walk out of the room, Kyle leading in case Michael puts up a fight, and finds the three have already created a land of pillows and blankets in front of the tv that isn’t even turned on. All three of them stop talking the second that they see Kyle and Alex, and both Michael and Kyle glare at each other.

“Alex wants to watch a movie.” Kyle declares.

“Max is reading,” Michael argues, but Max rolls his eyes and puts in, “No I’m not. We can watch a movie.”

Michael sends a glare to Max, but Kyle sticks out his tongue at Michael as he goes over to the movie case. There aren’t a ton to choose from, but it still feels like the hardest choice of the evening. Alex doesn’t like his taste in movies and Kyle isn’t fond of Alex’s love for science fiction either, but this is to help Alex and not him...

When his pause is too long, Alex takes over and announces, “Let’s take a vote. Everyone pick one movie.”

Isobel quickly chimes, “Tuck Everlasting” at the same time as Max, and it isn’t just Kyle that makes a face at them. Michael’s equally disgusted. “What? Why ?”

“It’s from a book,” Isobel says, motioning to Max, before adding, “And it’s super romantic. I’ll also watch A Walk to Remember. I like pretty people.”

“Ugh.” Michael groans, before giving a sore eye to Kyle. “Let me guess, The Rookie?”

“I don’t just like sports movies,” Kyle lies, turning to Alex. “I want to watch Alex’s choice.”

Alex gives Kyle an amused look, knowing the truth, but he doesn’t give Kyle any leeway as he says, “We want to watch Star Wars.”

All three of the kids look at each other, before Michael turns back and asks, “A space movie? About space cops policing aliens?”

“They’re jedi ,” Alex argues, clearly offended. “And aliens are jedi too.”

“I don’t know,” Max says, uncomfortable. “If you want like science fiction or fantasy what about Harry Potter or something?”

“Star Wars.” Kyle says firmly. “You can watch your girly romance book stuff later.”

Michael looks at both Max and Isobel, clearly arguing about something without words-- a habit that annoys the crap out of Kyle-- but then Michael shakes his head at Max and turns back to Kyle and Alex and shrugs. “Star Wars is fine.”

Looking pleased, Alex sits down on the outskirts of the blankets. Kyle puts in the VCR tape before going back toward the couch and pulling off pillows for him and Alex. The movie starts and Kyle can feel Alex start to relax in a way that he hadn’t seemed capable of when he first arrived at the house. After thirty minutes in they’re closer to each other, still quiet. Kyle has stubbornly wrestled some of the snacks from Michael to share with Alex, and while Alex is still hyper focused on the movie, he’s still moved more into a cuddling position with Kyle to share the popcorn. Kyle pretends it doesn’t affect him, pushing everything down as best as possible.

He falls asleep at some point, well before the movie is over, and wakes up to Alex grumpily pushing him.

“I can’t believe you fell asleep.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles. Still sleepy, he stands up and notices the movie is now done and the trio have moved on to watching whichever romance movie Kyle doesn’t care about. He fumbles out of the mess of pillows and blankets, almost falling over except for the luck of Alex catching him, and he holds on despite regaining his balance. Alex pulls him toward the hallway and Kyle felt himself slip his hand into Alex’s as they walk. It isn’t until they reach the room and shut the door that Alex hisses at him while pulling his hand away.

“Don't hold my hand!”

“Why?” Kyle asks, still half asleep but definitely starting to wake up now.

“Because we're not kids.”

Kyle huffs, trying not to be embarrassed at the mistake and trying to find any excuse he can. “Michael, Max, and Isobel hold hands.”

“Yeah but…”

“Fine,” Kyle snaps. “Sorry.”

Alex frowns now, looking regretful before he sighs. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Whatever,” Kyle replies, moving Alex’s stuff off of his bed so he can slide under his blankets and escape this stupid conversation. The last thing he wants to do is make things awkward between them, but his subconscious seems to have other things in mind.

“Are you going to be mad?” Alex asks, looking torn between being annoyed and worried when Kyle glances back briefly.

“I’m not mad.”

Alex huffs again, but this time caves. “Ugh. Move over.” Kyle’s only a little surprised when Alex roughly but kindly pushes him to the very end of his bed on the bottom bunk and climbs in with him. He turns over just to smirk, and Alex rolls his eyes in return. “You’re needy.”

“So?” Kyle responds. “You like being needed.”

“Hmph.” Alex mumbles, and they stay quiet for awhile while Kyle turns back around. He almost thinks Alex has fallen asleep before he asks, “Are you really jealous of Max and Isobel?”

“I don’t know,” Kyle lies. “Just hard to sleep with three people in my room.”

Alex lets the first part slide, but curiously asks, “Does he still have nightmares?”

When Michael had first arrived in their home, things hadn’t been easy. First of all, Michael didn’t share Kyle’s initial want of a new brother. Second, Michael didn’t seem to be used to life at all. Kyle’s dad had sat Kyle down and tried to explain things, but it still didn’t change the oddness of Michael’s constant nightmares, scribbling on the walls, silence except for three occasional words, and complete dislike for clothes. It took about a year for things to fully settle down, and even still five years later things could be hard when Michael was stressed.

“Not really,” Kyle replies, quiet. “Especially when the twins are over. I don’t know why he wasn’t adopted with them too, he likes them better anyway.”

“He’s still your brother,” Alex says softly. “You’re just the person he lives with, so it’s different. I don’t like my brothers better you and we’re blood related.”

Kyle hums, more comforted than he thought he could be on the subject. “Yeah, I guess. I do like you better.”

Sometime in the night they fall asleep together, unworried about the closeness in the end.

#kyle valenti #Michael guerin #kylex #kylex fic #(and further)#roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #mine #my work #full version #atsstmr

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hello-imasalesman · 6 years ago

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Can we please be blessed with headcannons of a pining Arthur? He’s such a soft boah 💕

Arthur puts pencil to paper and every time, the results don’t come out the way they’re supposed to. It’s not that he’s never seen something in his head and have it come out different on the page— that’s nearly every time, that’s what drawing was, trying to sketch his best approximation. But everything that’s coming out is wrong, a disconnect between his hands and his brain. The horses’ legs are crooked, the flowers look flat, the landscapes are lopsided.

“You’ve had your nose in that thing for ages,” Marston calls, too close, behind his head. Arthur startles, perched on a covered crate in front of the fire, though he doesn’t close the journal in time, not before John’s gotten a good look. “Who’s that supposed to be, anyway?”

Arthur huffs in annoyance. “Trying to draw you, actually.”

He’s drawn John, Hosea, Dutch and even Grimshaw more times than he can count. They’ve been together so long, their faces are familiar, even when he’s not staring at them like he usually does when he sketches. But on this page, Marston looks lopsided and uneven, his brows furrowed and his scars lost to the smear of lead.

“What the fuck, Arthur.” John responds first with anger, and then almost barks out a laugh as he leans over him to look closer at the page. “You made me look like Bill.”

Arthur shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to swallow a peal of laughter that threatens to escape down. “What?”

Sketch-John has a stern countenance, though with Arthur’s current inability to draw, its less stern than sour, like a child trying to act tough. His eyes are uneven, too. Arthur idly tries to correct it as John looks on, but it just makes sketch-John look like he has one black eye, his pencil scratching uselessly against the page.

“Yeah, yeah.” He tries to lean over, press a finger to the page, but Arthur’s sitting up and leaning away from Marston before he can smudge a greasy finger on it. “I ain’t that ugly and my beard don’t look like that.”

“What beard?” Arthur snaps his journal closed, looking over his shoulder at Marston’s frown. “You can grow one of those? I thought that shit on your face was from the dog.”

“I could say the same of you!” John shouts, unsuccessfully, because Arthur is staring at him with raised eyebrows and an amused smirk that’s just-visible beneath the mustache that’s in a sore need of a trim, before the hairs curl over and into his mouth. He doesn’t have to say anything, barely gets out a giggle before John’s hands are thrown up into the air, “Look, I don’t have to deal with this.” And he stomps off with Arthur’s laughter at his back. He keeps that sketch, at least. Will probably tear it out and leave it on John’s pillow, when he finds the time, just to antagonize him a bit; all in good fun, until Dutch tells him to play nice because his favorite son is cussing and stomping around instead of choring.

But still— as amusing as the doodle is, Arthur can’t draw. Or, at least, nothing is coming out well in his eyes. It’s been weeks now. Flat and lifeless, crooked lines. Between hauling bags of grain, he crouches next to the chicken coop, watches the birds scratch at the ground. He sketches one of the chickens, and then aggressively scribbles over it when the texture of the feathers looks, too on-the-nose, like chicken scratch.

“What’re you drawing?”

Kieran asks like he’s been rehearsing the simple sentence in his head for too long, and still, his voice cracks at the end as Arthur fixes him with a look over his shoulder. He always forgets how tall Kieran is until he’s sitting somewhere in Kieran’s vicinity, and he has to look up to meet his eye. He doesn’t carry his height well, perpetually slouching, unless he’s dealing with the horses. Then he has to draw himself up, if only to get them to behave.

“Nothing.” Arthur admits with a grumble, because it feels like he’s been drawing nothing over the past few days, just series of lines and shapes that don’t connect together into anything tangible. Kieran’s smile goes uneasy, baring his teeth with uncertainty as he takes a step back and away from Arthur.

“Sorry to bother—“

“No, no, it’s fine.” Arthur rushes to clarify; he hadn’t realized his tone had been rough enough to have sent the other man almost scurrying off. Kieran flinches, stands and stares at his hands. “Frustrated with myself, is all. Nothing’s coming out right.” He hesitates, for a moment, before he turns and moves in closer, so that Kieran can see. His eyes go a little wide, glancing up towards Arthur’s face before he looks at the proffered journal.

“It all looks real fine to me.” Kieran says, almost sweetly, hesitantly flipping back to a previous page. Makes something in Arthur’s gut twist. “I- I think you’re being hard on yourself, is all. I could never get anything to look like that.” He taps below one of the sketches of the horses, careful not to actually touch it, “That’s a real nice one. Nell?”

“Yeah,” Arthur confirms, huffing out a chuckle. “Stands still long enough to sketch. Just like Uncle, actually.”

Kieran laughs, genuine, the corners of his eyes creasing, tucking strands of hair behind his ears. Arthur laughs, too, even if it’s not the funniest thing he’s ever said, but its infectious when he hears it from him. “It’s true,” Kieran says, “Oh, he can be real awful, even if he’s a sweet horse. Always rolls around in the dirt after I brush him through...”

Arthur flips through his journal, showing Kieran a past page of Uncle in various states of sleep around camp, his face an exaggerated, comical caricature, drool from his lips. Kieran laughs again, hides his mouth behind his knuckles pressed against his lips, setting the edge of his teeth against the cracked, rough skin there.

Kieran’s always busy working. Arthur is, too, even if Dutch don’t see it, browbeating him whenever he lingers too long in camp, the moments in-between where Arthur catches his breath. He stays for a day or two, at the cusp of outstaying his welcome, then heads off; hunting, carriage theft, house robberies, whichever the road takes him towards. Keeps his hands occupied with violence instead, hoping once he’s sufficiently wrought enough destruction he can create something again.

Camp pulls him back, like it always does; he cleans before he returns, for Grimshaw’s sake, but ice cold river water can’t rinse off the dark shiner he’s sporting before he rides into camp and leaves his horse in the pasture. He has to walk through camp to reach the stewpot, loading up the cleanest bowl he can find with Pearson’s pottage. By the time he’s finished eating standing next to the fire, spitting the most inedible bits of gristle to the ground, someone’s left a salve by his cot. A metal tin promising pain relief, among a long list of other cures, the label blurred under the oils of nervous fingers ceaselessly worrying the paper. Arthur rolls it over in his hands. Mulls over who gave it to him as he smears the thick lotion around his eye, under his shirt and the deep bruises across his ribs. The greasiness sticks to his fingers, and is an easy excuse to blame when he settles back into his cot that night and his pencil slides uselessly over the pages, and it snaps in half between his fingers.

The next morning, Kieran leaves him another gift when he tacks up Arthur’s warhorse, tucked into his saddlebags. Arthur doesn’t notice the two pencils wrapped carefully in a scrap of fabric, pre-sharpened, until he’s nearly in New Hanover.

Arthur returns a week later with he sun at his back, his shiner healed. He doesn’t draw attention to himself when he makes his way to the tithing box, pulling a stack of cash and two watches from his satchel. He has a necklace, too, delicate and brilliant glass beads, but he puts that back into his satchel when it comes out tangled with the watches; that’s for Tilly.

With the sun setting, there’s precious few hours of light left in the day, though they’re longer and longer with each sunrise. Arthur hates the heat that clings to his brow, but loves the hours of daylight summer brings. Sweating oneself dry was a small price to pay for more hours in the day. But they’re running thin, the sun disappearing in a fireball beyond the water’s horizon; Arthur has only a few minutes to find Kieran. He wasn’t in the pasture when he dismounted his horse; he’s not at the scout campfire, either, and Arthur’s hands feel sweaty in his gloves. He almost misses him, on his second walk through the camp; near the chicken coop once more, sitting beneath the large tree there, quietly smoking in its roots.

“Kieran.”

Kieran looks flushed, the ember of the cigarette throwing his face into stark shadows. His eyes shift upward as he stubs it out against the bark. “Arthur?”

“‘Fore the sun sets,” Arthur starts, trying to calmly stress his limits, the strange feeling that their time was quickly waning. It doesn’t make much sense; Arthur could always show him tomorrow. But there’s an urgency that’s gripping his lungs, as he reaches for his satchel, “Look.”

Kieran stands, using the tree as support for his wobbly legs. Arthur opens his journal, paging to the ribbon holding his place.

He has to rotate his journal, and Kieran pulls in close, looking over his shoulder. It’s hard lines in some spots and soft smudges in others, thumbs and knuckles used, the side of his pencil washing shades of grey. The soft shadows mottled underneath Kieran’s eyes, purple and blue, somehow rendered perfectly in the soft smudge of lead across the page. The greasy knots of his hair. Kieran’s smile, crooked and easy. It’s all there.

“Oh.” Kieran clutches at Arthur’s sleeve, where he’s rolled it up to the elbows, in the folds of fabric there. Buries his fingers in and scrunches his grasp in tight. “Oh. Arthur, I—“

He sounds almost on the edge of tears, maybe. Or some other emotion swirling thick in the back of his throat. The sun slips slowly beyond the trees, the clouds drifting fat overhead speeding up the pace of darkness falling over Clemen’s Point. The campfire has been allowed to dwindle down further than it should, and it barely casts any light towards where they stand behind the coop and the shadows of the trees. Kieran steps forward and Arthur steps back, lets him box him up against the rough bark of the big oak before he grasps Arthur by the front of his dress shirt and kisses him. Kieran tastes like tobacco, mostly, when he parts his lips to let Arthur lick into his mouth, suck on his bottom lip until Kieran whines and his knees buckle against Arthur’s legs. When they part, Arthur’s eyes opening, it’s almost too dark to see Kieran’s smile, the redness splotching across his cheeks. Another picture to sketch, another page in his journal.

#arthur morgan #kieran duffy #john marston #arthur/kieran #rdr 2 #rdr2 #(technically i wrote this thinking post-pale horse so they’ve fucked but like)#(they are pining in a way idk how to explain it they’re cowboys all they do is stare andpine!!!)#korgan #kieran/arthur #a pale horse #anyway this is Very Soft i kno

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iamnotoriginalphil · 6 years ago

Text

The Art of Love - Chapter 7 (Carol x Reader)

Sorry this took so long, life has been insane.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Carol had ignored you for the rest of the day. Her eyes had skittered over whichever part of the room you were in. The kids seemed to sense her bad mood, not raising their hands to ask questions, keeping the noise level low.

The moment the final bell had rung she’d fled from the room, not even bothering to pretend in front of the kids. She’d felt your eyes on her the entire walk to her car. She needed to shake it off.

Which is how she ended up finding herself in a bar on a Monday night. It wasn’t the same bar as Friday, not needing you clouding her thoughts. She was drinking to forget, not to remember.

She’d gone home with a young woman in her haze of drunkenness. She’d let the woman lead her to her apartment, let her play her body like an expert. When she’d looked down, her hands fisted in platinum blonde hair, she’d felt a stab of disappointment.

As she’d cum around the woman’s fingers she’d felt discontented.

When the woman had slipped into sleep she had scrambled out of bed, haphazardly pulling her clothes on. She’d stumbled out of the apartment, using the late night air to sober her up a little. She tried to ignore the shame coating her skin. She’d spent the evening imagining your glittering brown eyes, your deep auburn hair tangled around her fingers, your lips trialing over her skin. She felt so lacklustre. She wanted you.

Watching you waltz into the classroom the next morning was hard. She was hungover and tired, and after the events of the night before, more than a little disgruntled.

You smiled at her, a little hesitant. You looked as if you hadn’t slept all too well the night before either, blinking a little longer than normal. The difference is you looked put together, still managing to smile. Carol wanted to destroy you for being so perfect when she was falling apart because of you.

You looked over at her, ignoring the way she was glaring at you. You felt as if something had shifted between the two of you after whatever had happened the day before. The way she was ignoring you, refusing to meet your eyes, said more to you than anything she had actually said.

“Morning,” you said.

She grumbled something, resting her head in her hands. You laughed, and despite the way she enjoyed the sound, she was annoyed you could be laughing so early while her head was throbbing so insistently. She could physically hear how cheery you were.

“Big night last night?” you asked, prancing past her to duck your head into the storage cupboard. She groaned, imagining you smiling at her. She did not need you shoving your youth, and your attractiveness, and your happiness in her face. She needed you to disappear.

“If you know what’s good for you you will shut the fuck up,” she said, laying her hands flat on the desk to stare at you.

You smiled at her but said nothing, hopefully doing what you were told. She curled her upper lip at you and you walked past again, a bounce in your step. She grimaced at how loud your heels were on the floor. Her head felt like it would explode at any second.

You sat at the back desk, pulling your journal out of your bag. You opened it to the sketch you’d been working on, digging under all your receipts to find your wayward pencil. You looked down at the face you’d been sketching for most of the night, the expression surprisingly open and confused. You’d only seen a flash of it but it had stayed with you, replaying in your mind every time you closed your eyes.

You hadn’t been able to ignore the itch and now, staring up at you, was the face of Carol, the way you’d seen her for only a moment, the way you’d give your right arm to see her again.

Your heart stumbled in your chest while you looked at her, not quite able to find the right rhythm. She looked away from you, scrunching her nose. You bit your lip and looked back at your picture. Something was off and you couldn’t figure out what. Maybe it was that she wasn’t sneering.

You sighed and closed the journal. You looked up at Carol again, watching her massage her temples. You longed to be the one doing that, having your hands on her skin, making her feel good, helping her. She met your eyes, blinked, then looked away. Your heart thudded against your ribcage.

You spent the morning, watching Carol try and get through her morning lessons while obviously hungover. You took over most of the wrangling of the students, answering questions and queries. You left Carol to sit at her desk, supposedly marking student’s work, but you watched her from the corner of your eye. Her pen rarely moved on the paper, spending more time clasped between her teeth. That sent shivers down your spine.

You watched her sigh in relief as the lunch bell rang. You listened to the kids filter out, waving goodbye to a few of them. Carol lent her head on her folded arms the kids disappeared. You walked over to the door, closing it to stop anyone coming in, to give her a little privacy.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“Not letting the kids see you like this,” you said, turning back to her.

You were sure she was muttering about you under her breath but you ignored her, walking around to tidy up the room. You swept paper into your hands, letting it fall into the bin.

“Can you fucking stop?” she asked, a snap to her voice.

“Stop what?” you asked, continuing to straighten up the room.

“Walking,” she said, “your heels are obnoxiously loud.”

You stopped, turning to look at her over your shoulder. She was still leaning against the desk, not looking at you. You shrugged at no one and pulled your boots off your feet, putting them beside your bag. You continued to flit around the room, cleaning and tidying, getting ready for the last half of the day.

It took a while for you to notice Carol was watching you. You looked over at her, already smiling. Her upper lip was curled and it felt as if she was trying to glare at you but not quite able to. You felt your smile drop from your face, not sure what could possibly be annoying her now.

“What?” you asked.

She shook her head then winced.

“Do you want some painkillers?” you asked, a stab of concern shooting through you.

She furrowed her brows at you, tilting her head. You shrugged and dug through your bad for the bottle of aspirin you carried with you at all times. You deposited it on her desk and she raised her brows at you. You handed her the bottle of water from your bag, assuming that was what she was looking for.

She looked down at the proffered water, then to the aspirin, then back to you. She wasn’t used to someone taking care of her. She’d been all alone for so long, keeping everyone at arms length. No one tried to take care of her.

She took the water from your hand, gulping down the painkillers, sighing at how cool the water was. She looked at you, handing the water back. Your head was tilted, your lip caught between your teeth, and she felt as if you were x-raying her.

“Thanks,” she said, and looked away from you, gazing out the window, walking over to get a better view.

You picked up the aspirin from the desk and walked back over to the back of the room, depositing your bag in its usual place. You glanced over your shoulder at her again, and took in the way she was looking out the window. She looked a little confused, a little put out, and yet, there was a surprising glint of wonder in her eyes. You wondered if it was because of whatever she was looking at.

She glanced over her shoulder at you and rolled her eyes. She tried to ignore the way you were looking at her, the way it made her skin feel hot, the way her legs trembled.

“Carol,” you said.

“What?” she snapped.

“Why’d you get shit faced last night?” you asked.

“Who said I got shit faced?” she asked, her voice dropping dangerously low. You shivered.

You gave her a pointed look, ignoring the way she glared at you in return. She got shit faced on a Monday night. That was bad. Part of you wondered if it was because of what had happened the day before. God knows it was the reason you hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

“None of your fucking business,” she snapped and turned away.

You took a step forward, silent without your heels on. You let your eyes rove over her body, head to toe, lingering on the curve of her back, the length of her legs, the mane of hair you wanted to tangled your fingers in. There was nothing about this woman you didn’t want. She was driving you crazy.

“If you’re turning up to work like this, I think it is my business,” you said with more bravado than you actually possessed.

She turned towards, slow and measured. Your stomach clenched and you had to stop yourself from taking a step back. Her eyes were burning.

She couldn’t believe you were continuing to ask her about this. Any other sensible person would have backed down, leaving her in peace. But you couldn’t. You came in here with your optimism and smiles, you offered her pain killer, and then asked her questions. Who gave you the fucking right? She wouldn’t be in this state if it wasn’t for you.

“It’s none of your fucking business, Beckett,” she said, her voice barely more than a growl.

“I don’t think you get to decide that,” you said said, taking another step forward.

“I get to decided exactly how much or how little I tell you,” she said, also taking a step forward.

“Are you always this much of a bitch, or do you do it specially for me?” you snapped. You’d enough of her fucking games. What the fuck was her problem?

Her face looked like thunder and she strode towards you. You had to do your best not to run from her, suddenly worried you may have crossed the line. She stopped in front of you, her hands visibly shaking with rage.

“What the fuck did you say?” she hissed, leaning her face close to yours.

You looked at her, really looked at her. Beyond the dark circles and the bloodshot eyes she looked angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen her. Her nose was scrunched up, her upper lip curled. You reached up a hand, feeling as if it were no longer connected to your body.

She looked at it, confused, but not retreating. You ran a finger down her nose, making it unscrunch. Her eyes darted to yours and you couldn’t help but sigh, the blue so captivating, so compelling. There weren’t words enough to describe them. You knew you should have been scared, or angry, or something other than what you were feeling, but everything was such a jumble and all you knew was how much you wanted the woman standing in front of you.

And so you kissed her.

Tags: @girlhomosonly @gayvaanburen @prettysureimgayxo @gaycaroldenning @hennyxrussell @darlingcherries @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @nocturnal---mistress @marla-black @marvelismylifffe @georgie-porgie-pies @myluromance @whymecarol @villxneve @your-prison-daddy @keisha-deann @stylebydesignxo @timebeckons @eclipses77 @lovingcaroldenning @badassheda @novellaqueen @babysaints @thecaroldenning @androdad @aquilasaurus @tab-i-laugh @sociosapphic @caroldenningg @thetravelingdreamer97 @saturn6th

(If you want to be tagged in future Carol fics drop me a message)

#carol denning #carol denning imagine #carol x reader #the art of love

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nelvana · 6 years ago

Text

In which a temporary team is formed

First: In which the human is transformed Next: In which they finish building a house Previous: In which they go to the kangaskhan’s home

In the morning, the group enjoyed a quick breakfast with Kangaskhan, who had to get up early for her job, before heading back to Pokemon Square to complete some missions. When they stopped by the mission board, they were reminded that Peaky still wanted to show them those wanted posters that Team Meanies had made up, so they decided to make a quick stop there, now that business at the post office had slowed down mostly to normality.

However, for once Peaky wasn’t available to speak with them, so they decided that they would have to return later. Luckily, Alex’s badge had arrived, so the stop wasn’t pointless. His badge had a similar appearance to Keahi and Nelvana’s, however smaller than theirs. He cheerfully pinned it onto the bag, as he lacked an accessory like the leading pair, and off they went.

There were still a few dungeons left to show Tsuki, and there ended up being enough jobs for those locations to take up the morning. They returned to Pokemon Square early, and enjoyed a simple picnic lunch before trying to check back in at the Pelipper Post Office. This time, Peaky was chatting with a pidgeotto behind the counter. They looked up at the sound of the quartet entering, and Peaky hopped over to greet them.

“Hey Team Galaxy! You here to send a letter?” Peaky chirped.

“Actually, we were hoping to see those posters you mentioned a couple days ago,” Keahi told them.

“Oh! Right! Here, I’ll grab one!” Peaky exclaimed, scurrying back behind the counter. “Each copy looks different, I think that they drew each one individually!” they added, “ah! Here we are!” Peaky hopped back over to the team, laying down a large paper in front of them.

Across the top of the page written “WANTED” in letters so big that there wasn’t enough room, and it had to be squeezed together to have the entire word. Underneath, written slightly more properly, was “Team Galaxy: Dead or Alive,” which made Nelvana take in an uneasy gulp of breath as she silently read it. Below all the text, were three poorly done drawings of Keahi, Nelvana, and Alex respectively. Whichever of the Team Meanies members had drawn up this particular poster seemed to have had a lot of difficulty with Keahi’s beak and Nelvana’s skull, the former ending up as just a triangle, and the latter being practically a spiky ball surrounded by pencil smudges.

“Huh, they forgot to write down the reward for catching us,” Alex commented, “I guess we’re priceless,” he joked.

Nelvana snickered, her tension at the text melting away the longer she looked at the drawings, “I have to give them some credit on my portrait, cubone skulls are challenging to get the hang of drawing,” she said, “that doesn’t excuse Alex’s nose though. At least they remembered your scar.”

“Yeah, but they forgot where! Why did they draw it through my eye?” Alex responded.

“I guess it looks more intimidating?” Nelvana suggested, “I think you really scared Gengar. Plus, they all had to draw from memory. And the one he could base off, he was probably more focused on finding more excuses.”

Keahi giggled, “they drew one of my eyes bigger than the other! And look at the feathers! They’re practically just one big mound!”

“I wonder if they’re just bad at drawing, or if they needed reference?” Nelvana asked no on in particular.

“I guess we’ll never know,” Alex answered, stepping back from the poster to signal that he was finished looking.

“Perhaps they should have taken art lessons from you, Nel,” Tsuki suggested, “then again, there is still the matter of whether you’d even give lessons.”

“Uhh, I don’t consider myself a good enough teacher to give lessons to anyone,” Nelvana murmured.

“Thanks for letting us see this anyway, Peaky!” Keahi chirped.

“No problem! Now I guess all of us should get to work, shouldn’t we? See you guys later!” Peaky replied.

The spearow fluttered back to the pidgeotto, who was patiently waiting for their return, and Team Galaxy turned and left the office. They went back home, and watched Nelvana doodled in the dirt while they waited for the others to arrive so they could get started.

Wynaut and Wobbuffet were punctual, arriving at noon, excited to get to work and help out the silver-ranked rescue team with their base. It was another ten minutes before the mankeys arrived, but they had reluctantly brought Primeape with them. It turned out that she had forcefully come along to assist with the basics, certain that everyone just needed a better push to get started than the next to no experience most of them had. She had modified their notes, and went ahead and put an order for all the supplies, which left Team Galaxy in a mix of thankfulness, and bitterness at their work being discarded so easily, when they had thought that they had a better grasp on all of this.

The materials wouldn’t arrive until the next day, but fortunately there was still work to be done. They had to prepare the land for building a new base, which mainly meant that they had to get rid of the old one. By breaking it apart. It was sad to have to destroy their old home, but knowing that they would build a better one kept their spirits up, and it helped release some tension. Wynaut and Wobbuffet weren’t able to help terribly much, but the mankeys enjoyed themselves in the destruction. Primeape simply continued supervising everyone, over calling out a comment or critique every so often, much to the displeasure of Team Galaxy, especially since the fighting-type wasn’t actually assisting with the manual labor.

With the area cleared out, they were left with no way to progress until the supplies arrived, and so everyone left for the day. Team Galaxy ended up having enough time to complete a few more missions before heading back to the cottage with Kangaskhan, enjoying another evening with the normal-type family.

It was the next morning that they spotted a new arrival in Pokemon Square; Shiftry. The older grass-dark-type was brooding off to the side of town, and surprising, Lombre was standing beside him. They appeared to be speaking to each other, but it was being done much too quietly to be heard by bystanders.

“Shiftry? He’s back? And there’s Lombre too?” Keahi whispered.

“Who’s Shiftry?” Tsuki asked.

“He…” Keahi trailed off, “He was the nuzleaves’ team leader.”

“Ah,” Tsuki murmured, “do you know him well?”

“No, we only watched his team accept Jumpluff’s mission,” Nelvana answered quietly, tracing the cracks on her club as she recalled the event.

Despite them staying quiet, it didn’t take long for Shiftry to look up and notice the team. Lombre looked over as well, and stiffened upon seeing them. He was about to sneak away, but Shiftry dragged the grass-water-type over to the quartet.

“Hello Team Galaxy,” Shiftry greeted somberly.

“H-Hey,” Lombre mumbled, struggling against Shiftry in a way to try not to make it obvious what he was doing, but failing in all forms.

“Hi guys!” Keahi greeted, “we… we haven’t seen either of you in awhile, how are you?”

“I’ve… been managing,” Shiftry sighed, “look, I just wanted to thank you guys. For everything. You rescued me from Zapdos, and while you couldn’t rescue my teammates… you brought that damned murder to justice. So, thank you for that.”

“Oh, uh, no problem!” Keahi replied, “look, we…”

Shiftry shook his head, “look, don’t worry about it. I just want to move on, alright? Just needed to give you your thanks first. You deserve it.”

“Okay,” Keahi sighed, “so, you’re staying here now?”

“For now.” Shiftry nodded. “Anyway, this lil’ frog has something to say too,” he continued, shoving Lombre at them.

“Ack!” Lombre croaked, stumbling forward. “Geez, you don’t need to be so rough…” he huffed, brushing off his arms before turning back to Team Galaxy and stiffening again. “Shoot…”

Shiftry glowered down at Lombre, who was looking more uncomfortable by the minute.

“F-Fine!” Lombre hissed, “I’m sorry for distrusting you like that! And for almost joining Team Meanies to hunt you down! And for… and I really messed up, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

Keahi smiled warmly at Lombre, “it’s alright. You messed up, but we forgive you.”

“Would have been nice to not have you be so reluctant about apologizing though,” Alex mumbled.

“He’s just a wimp,” Shiftry chuckled, harshly nudging Lombre.

“Yeah, yeah. Can I go now?” Lombre sighed.

“Sure, go ahead, frog,” Shiftry hummed.

Just as he said, Shiftry stuck around Pokemon Square during the next few days. He continued avoiding most of the townsfolk, but would give Team Galaxy a wave as they went by, and sometimes they would see him chatting with the kecleon brothers.

Construction continued as well, the supplies arriving on time to the Kecleon Shop for further work. Primeape kept coming with the mankeys to contribute with her advice, and by the end of the day, was actually helping with the work instead of sitting on the sidelines. It was a new, challenging, and long job, but they all found themselves enjoying their first few days of working.

It was the fourth day that brought more change. Arriving in Pokemon Square with Kangaskhan that morning greeted them with a large crowd in the center of town with many unfamiliar pokemon.

“Woah, that’s a big crowd. Wonder what’s happening this time?” Keahi gasped, “hey look! Those guys have badges! And so do they! And… is everyone here part of a team?” zie continued.

“Look, there’s Team New Blooms, let’s go ask them,” Nelvana suggested, pointing over to the familiar chikorita and machop.

The quartet weaved their way around the crowd towards the pair, who were standing beside a piplup and chimchar wearing matching scarves around their necks.

“Oh, hey Galaxy!” Melanie greeted, “you’re late!”

“Late for what?” Keahi asked.

“We… we don’t know,” Everett admitted, “Shiftry sent out letters to every team asking us to meet here yesterday, but didn’t specify why.”

“Yeah, didn’t you guys get one?” Melanie questioned.

“No… but that might be because we don’t have a mailbox right now. We’re rebuilding,” Nelvana told them.

“Ah! That explains it!” Everett chirped, “anyway, this is Team Disaster! We started talking while we were waiting for Shiftry to get this meeting started,” he added, acknowledging the other duo.

“Hello! I’m Cecil, and this is my partner Poplar,” the chimchar said.

“Hey there,” Poplar huffed, crossing her flippers across her chest. “Let’s hope this starts soon, this is boring.”

“Be patient Poplar…” Cecil sighed, not looking to pleased to be waiting so long himself.

As if on cue, Shiftry began speaking, “alright everyone! Quiet down!” he yelled, and waited until the huge group went quiet. “Look, I know you’re all antsy and confused, so I’ll do my best to be quick, alright?” he continued, “I don’t like giving public speeches much anyway,” he added under his breath. “Team A.C.T. left to fight Groudon nearly a week ago, and no one has heard from them since!”

The crowd began whispered amongst one another again, and Shiftry waited for everyone to calm down again before continuing.

“So, this probably means they got stuck, and their badges malfunctioned. And I refuse to leave them there a moment longer! Which means we have to send out a team to rescue them! That’s why you’re all here! I sent letters out to every team that’s a silver or gold rank in hopes that we can combine forces for a search team,” Shiftry explained, “since clearly, as none of us have been able to achieve platinum rank on our own, there is no way just sending one team will be successful. I suggest that the stronger among us to face the perils of Magma Cavern, where Groudon resides. Any volunteers?”

This final question was met by silence for the first few seconds, filling the air with a tense silence, everyone wondering who would volunteer to go into the dungeon that the highest ranked team hadn’t returned from.

“Maybe we should go!” Keahi whispered to zir teammates.

“We should…” Nelvana agreed, but hesitated.

“What about the base?” Tsuki pointed out.

Keahi scrunched up zir face, “oh right… this feels more important though.”

“Look, if no one else volunteers, then we will, alright?” Nelvana offered.

“Okay,” Keahi nodded.

“I’ll go.”

A large blastoise wearing a striped green bandanna on his head walked from out of the crowd, and up to Shiftry.

“Magma Cavern sounds like there will be a lot of fire-types, and my water-type attacks will blast right through them!” Blastoise proclaimed.

With first volunteer, the ice seemed to be broken for others to join in this make-shift team as well.

“Very well, I’ll help out too,” Octillery, who wore a lavender sash around her neck, announced. “You’ll need the extra strength here, sweetheart,” she purred.

“Me too!” Golem, one of the few in the crowd with no accessory, called out. “We can’t only send in water-types! My rock and ground moves will shake up those caverns!” he boasted.

“Two waters and a rock-ground…” Nelvana murmured, “but… Groudon is a ground-type with drought. This won’t be enough to beat them if we’re just going off of type, which seems to be what they think they’re focusing on.”

Alex blinked, “you’re right… should we tell them? We should, shouldn’t we…”

Nelvana bit her lip, but nodded. With a glance back at their teammates, along with Team New Bloom and Team Disaster, they took a step further into the crowd.

“Hey, just a warning, Groudon is a ground-type with drought! Are you sure this is the plan you want to go with?” Alex yelled.

Everyone turned towards the pair, causing both of them to stiffen uncomfortably from being stared at. Keahi and Tsuki quickly joined them, Keahi leaning close beside Nelvana to comfort her.

“Knew it was a ground-type, but drought, huh? Where did you hear that?” Blastoise questioned.

“Ditto,” Nelvana answered courtly before Alex could.

Blastoise blinked in surprise, but Octillery chimed in, “don’t you kids worry about it. We shouldn’t have to fight Groudon, this is just a search mission. We just need to get through the dungeon, which will have fire-types,” she told them.

“Thanks for the tip though!” Golem added, “I think we’ve got this though!”

“Anyone else, then?” Shiftry asked, his eyes lingering on Team Galaxy for a moment as he scanned the crowd, before passing them by.

“I think we can take this! Feeling pretty confident about this mission!” Blastoise exclaimed.

“We should name our team, for good luck!” Golem announced.

“Boys… I don’t think we have time for that,” Octillery sighed.

Shiftry coughed, “you three can decide that on your own. If no one else wants to join them, then meeting dismissed, I suppose.”

Eagerly taking the chance to do their own thing, nearly all the teams departed, many of them to the Pelipper Post Office, and the rest out of town. Team Galaxy and a couple others lingered around the center of Pokemon Square, whispering to one another. Shiftry left the temporary team and walked up to the quartet.

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t volunteer,” Shiftry commented.

“No offense, but it might be for the better,” Blastoise, rudely barging into a beginning conversation that wasn’t his, said. “Look, Team Galaxy, you may have been through that path and beaten the bird trio, but Groudon is an entirely different story. We’re more experienced, we can handle this.”

Shiftry growled, rolling his eyes at Blastoise’s comment before turning and leaving towards Whiscash Pond. Octillery and Golem, along with their actual teams, who were the other few lingerers, waved Blastoise back over to them, leaving Team Galaxy along.

“Jeez, what a jerk,” Alex snapped, glowering at Blastoise. “Ditto though? Good excuse, helps keep us from explaining a lot.”

“It wasn’t a ditto? I can’t remember…” Nelvana murmured.

“Nah, it was an illusion. Ditto worked better as a quick answer though,” Alex replied.

“Wait, you guys fought Groudon before?” Keahi questioned, zir beak gaping open in surprise.

“Not the real one, but yes,” Alex answered.

“…I… have a bad feeling about this search mission,” Nelvana admitted.

“Me too,” Tsuki agreed, “but it isn’t me sensing it yet, so we’ll have to see how this turns out. Hopefully it just stays as a bad feeling.”

Cameos: Team New Blooms (Melanie/chikorita & Everett/machop) belongs to @kaidacreator / @kaidacreatorart Team Disaster (Poplar/piplup & Cecil/chimchar) belongs to ChargeCats

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vantemei · 7 years ago

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imagine taehyung is a successful actor and he has great friends and a good income and a nice big penthouse in seoul but he still feels lonely so he decides to get a hybrid.

taehyung doesn't just wake up one morning and decide he's going to get a hybrid. the idea comes to him when his friend namjoon introduces taehyung to his own bunny hybrid, jeongguk. taehyung has known namjoon for the majority of his career, the majority of his life really, and he's always seen the elder as someone who is serious and hardworking but a bit of a goofball once you get to know him.

however, even in the entire thirteen years he's spent with the elder, he's never once seen him quite as relaxed or content as he did whenever jeongguk would curl into his side or wrap his arms possessively around namjoon's waist, chin snagging on his shoulder and ears perking up when namjoon would chuckle at his actions.

after that taehyung decides to do some research. there are hundreds of different kinds of hybrids. different species and different breeds and different races. each hybrid is different and unique in their own way and need a lot of care and time. certain species of hybrids get heats and ruts, others have periods of hibernation, and some even have migration inclinations. avian hybrids require homes with large open spaces and lots of outside room. more wild hybrids like wolf and bear hybrid need to live places with more deciduous climates.

taehyung spends two weeks looking through all the different species that can happily live in cities and more crowded places. it takes him another week to narrow it down to a cat hybrid, though a dog hybrid would be tempting, taehyung's schedule is often busy and he wouldn't be able to go out with a dog hybrid much and he doesn't trust the streets of seoul - even gangnam - enough to let someone precious to him wander by themselves.

so taehyung looks up the nearest shelters and finds the best one. he reads the reviews and smiles at all the positive comments left by people, happy with their new companions. taehyung realizes that yes, this is the place.

the drive to the shelter is 15 minutes but it feels like seconds pass before taehyung is stepping out of his car - a luxury lamborghini he would never buy for himself but was a gift from a fellow actor - and he nervously fiddles with the cuff of his coat. it's barely september and the air is already chilly with the promise of snow. not that he minds, taehyung loves the snow.

the shelter is a tall multiple story building and taehyung recalls that the website said each floor is specified to the species of hybrids that live there.

a woman sits at the front desk, long auburn hair pulled back into a neat bun and a polite smile on her face as she greets taehyung, eyes widening in recognition as he tucks his face mask into his pocket.

"h-hello, how may i help you today?"

"hello," taehyung greets her with a smile. "i'd like to adopt a hybrid."

"of course! well, i'll just ask you to fill out some basic information first and then we'll get you started."

"of course." taehyung takes the offered clipboard with a simple white form on the front and takes a pen from the bowl on the desk, quickly filling out his basic information. name, address, living situation, job, easy things.

"now, just to make sure you understand;" taehyung looks up. "you won't actually be able to adopt a hybrid today. you'll be able to meet some and you'll meet with a representative of whichever species you choose but before any hybrid can be adopted from out shelter we conduct a thorough background check and a home visit to make sure the hybrid will be going into a safe environment and you also cannot just choose a hybrid. hybrids are people to and whoever you choose will have to choose you back. we put the safety and comfort of the hybrids staying with us first."

"that sounds perfect. i'll be happy to provide any information you ask of me,"

taehyung hands back the finished form and the woman - her desk plaque reads 'park eunji' - and she takes it with a smile, eyes flicking over the form with a subtle nod.

"you've already decided you'd like a cat hybrid? alright, then please wait just a moment and i'll call down an agent from the feline department."

the wait isn't long. not even two minutes later the elevator to taehyung's left dings and a man with a large smile and soft brown hair steps out. "hello taehyung-ssi, my name is jung hoseok and i'll be the case worker for your time with us."

"it's nice to meet you hoseok-ssi," hoseok's hand is warm and taehyung smiles back just as brightly at him.

"alright! well if you'll follow me we can head up to the feline section. eungi told me you're looking for a more domestic breed, is that correct?" hoseok presses the button for floor seven and taehyung nods.

"alright then! i'll just ask you a couple of quick questions before we get there. taehyung-ssi, what brought you here to our fine shelter with the intention of adopting a companion?"

"well my job is sort of-" taehyung bites his lip and tries to think of a good way to word it. "taxing? not so much in a physical sense - though it can be that way too - but, i'm an actor so i spend a lot of time in the public eye and even when i'm not at events and just trying to buy groceries people are always watching me. it's hard to live with people always watching you hoseok-ssi, especially when they never really look at you. a lot of people try and take advantage of you and it's hard to make friends. a friend of mine is in a similar situation and he adopted a hybrid a few months ago. a really sweet guy named jeongguk. whenever i see them together i see how happy they are and i realized that i want that to. someone i can spend time with carelessly. someone who i can be myself around and be comfortable with. ah- sorry, i ramble sometimes-" the elevator dings just as taehyung looks up from where he was staring absently at the wall and catches the soft smile on hoseok's face.

"i think you'll find someone like that here taehyung-ssi. i'm glad you came to us."

hoseok leads him out of the elevator and taehyung marvels at floor around him. the elevator opens into a large room with couches, chairs, bean bag chairs, and soft carpets everywhere. there are about thirty or so cat hybrids spread throughout the room.

some of them are sleeping, curled up in chairs or couches, and some of them are reading or listening to music stretched over the rugs. there's a tv playing a movie that looks like 'a man and a woman' and taehyung grins as he briefly remembers having to film in the snow for a few scenes of that movie. several hybrids are curled around each other in what looks like a cuddle pile as they watch and there is a similar pile on the other end of the room that looks like a nap pile.

hoseok leads taehyung over to a desk across from the elevator and greets the man there - his nametag reads 'kyungsoo' - with a smile and grabs a 'hello my name is' sticker which he passes to taehyung with a marker.

"just put this on and go socialize! i'll come check in on you soon!"

"alright. thank you hoseok-ssi!" taehyung beams at the man and carefully writes his name on the sticker before peeling off the back and smoothing over the front of his black gucci button up.

looking out over the room taehyung can see some of the hybrids who have spotted him looking over him curiously, a couple of them seeming to recognize him and turning quickly to whisper to the closest person. taehyung's eyes flit across the room until they come to a halt on a single figure curled up on a beanbag chair a little ways away from the others, right up against the window that looks out over what appears to be a back courtyard. a boy, maybe a couple years younger than taehyung with fluffy black hair and matching ears and a tail is curled intently over a sketchbook, a small pencil held tightly in his tiny hand.

the hybrid's ears twitch as taehyung makes his way over and taehyung holds back a small gasp as the boy looks up at him, beautiful deep amber eyes locked on him as he makes his way over and seats himself in front of the beanbag, legs folding across each other and warm smile on his face.

"hello," the hybrid blinks but remains silent. "i'm taehyung, do you mind if i sit here?" again he receives no answer so taehyung take it as a 'yes' and leans his back against the wall, grin not faltering at the lack of an answer. "i'm sorry for interrupting you, you seemed like you were really into it. do you mind if i ask what you were drawing?"

the hybrid's eyes flicker across taehyung's form and he can see the boy's nose twitch subtley, probably taking in his scent, and the way his tail flicks curiously next to his ankle. he takes the moment of being observed to do the same. the hybrid is small. definitely no more than two or three years younger than taehyung but his stature is small, as many cat hybrid's are, and he looks like he would come right up to taehyung's shoulders.

his black hair is fluffy and falls over his eyebrows, shadowing his pretty amber eyes just slightly. his cheeks are naturally rosy and soft, rounded in the cutest way taehyung has ever seen and his lips are thick and plush, a soft pink color that looks like the petals of a rose. all in all he's probably the most beautiful person taehyung has ever seen and he hopes the slight flush on his own cheeks isn't too visible.

the hybrid's tail flicks again before curling around his ankle and he silently hold his sketchbook out towards taehyung, shy and hesitant as his ears twitch forward.

taehyung takes the sketchbook and his eyes widen. "wow! this is amazing! you drew this?!" the hybrid flushes and ducks his head slightly, hands curling together into his chest, knees drawing up, and he nods, eyes cast down. taehyung looks back at the beautifully detailed raven on the paper and his smile grows to a rectangle. "this is beautiful! you're very talented. you must have worked really hard on it, you should be proud!"

the hybrids ears twitch and his cheeks darken and taehyung bites back a squeal. he's just so cute!!

the hybrid slowly reaches his hand out of the shy little ball he's made of himself and he gently flips the cover of the sketchbook over so the inside cover is showing and glances at it purposefully. taehyung does as well and smiles. "property of jimin? is that your name?"

a nod.

"that's a beautiful name jimin,"

jimin pulls his hand back and peeks out from behind his knees, eyes slit into crescents and cheeks flushed with a smile and taehyung's heart races.

"would you show me some of your other drawings?"

jimin's eyes widen a bit and his tail flicks excitedly against his sock covered feet, ears perking up as he sits up a little more, arm reaching out for the book. taehyung hands it over with a soft smile and watches as the hybrid flips through the sketchbook for a few pages before he seems to find the one he was looking for. an intricate rose is sketched across the page and taehyung gasps dramatically.

"jimin! this is so beautiful! did you learn from van gogh? you must have!"

taehyung watches, delighted, as jimin's cheeks get darker with each praise and he smiles shyly as he takes the book back. that's how they pass the time; jimin flipping through his sketchbook and taehyung 'ooh-ing' and 'aww-ing' at each new page and praising the detailed work and before either of them realizes it, a little over an hour has passed.

"oh, taehyung-ssi! i see you've met jimin," taehyung startles slightly at hoseok's sudden presence and he feels jimin's hands on his shoulders clench. he's moved his position in the last hour so his back is against the beanbag chair and he holds the sketchbook open in front of him with jimin leaning over his shoulder to flip through pages.

"oh uh- yes, yeah..." taehyung's startled expression melts into a soft smile as he feels jimin's tail wrap around his upper arm. hoseok grins at them. "well, it's been about an hour so i wanted to stop by real quick and see how you two are getting along?"

hoseok is honestly a bit surprised that it's been an hour. when he saw taehyung walk over to jimin he figured the actor would go to someone else pretty soon. jimin has been with their shelter for almost four years and in all that time hoseok has only ever heard him speak three times. everyone who tries to talk with jimin quickly notice his mute tendencies and end up moving on pretty quickly and jimin has never looked even slightly put off by it. in fact, jimin usually ignores people who try and speak to him.

hoseok's jaw had dropped when he glanced over at the two after about half an hour and saw taehyung leaning his back against the beanbag with jimin practically wrapped around him, black tail curled loosely around his arm and chin resting on his shoulder. jimin never even got that close to the other hybrids, nose usually scrunching up when anyone got to close to him.

even now, the way jimin shrunk back shyly behind taehyung, small hands curling over his shoulders and tail tightening on his arm, hoseok can't believe he's warmed up to someone so much so quickly.

"we're getting along well i think, jimin is really talented," the genuine care in taehyung's words warms hoseok's heart and he smiles.

"that's good. jimin? what about you? do you like taehyung-ssi?"

the hybrid bites his lip and peeks up at hoseok, nodding quickly before his eyes flicker back to the window, cheeks flushed.

"alright then! i'm glad you're getting along. i'll leave you to it then,"

two more hours pass and hoseok looks back over at the pair and is surprised to see taehyung standing now. he's holding jimin's much smaller hand in his own and the hybrid is pouting up at him. taehyung looks apologetic as he presses a kiss to the back of jimin's hand and turns away, frowning down at his phone as he walks towards hoseok.

"is something wrong taehyung-ssi?"

"no, not at all. i just got a call from my manager and i need to go, but i was wondering if i could come see jimin again? probably not tomorrow but the day after?"

"of course! visiting hours are everyday from 08:00 to 20:00 so feel free to drop by anytime. you can get a visitors pass from eungi at the front desk and just make your way right up!"

taehyung smiles writes something down on his phone before glancing back up.

"and i- i was wondering if i could bring him a present? just, nothing too big but-"

"of course taehyung-ssi," hoseok cuts off his embarrassed rambling and taehyung awards him another blinding smile.

"alright. thank you hoseok-ssi. i'll be seeing you."

#hybrid au #i think this is my first one #vmin #vmin fluff #vmin fanfic #hybrid jimin #actor taehyung #park jimin #kim taehyung #bts #listen to hyung

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icecoldflames · 6 years ago

Text

(Chap. 12 + Chap. 13) When Parallel Lines Meet

Masterlist

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Chapter 12

“Connie Stephanie!” Logan hissed, stalking up to Connie. “What were you thinking? Running away like that?”

Connie whirled around and a look of shock crossed her face. She took a tiny step back.

“Logan,” Patton began, putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “I’m sure-”

Logan shrugged Patton’s hand off. “-She has a reason why she ran off without us knowing and going to the government? Without telling one of us?”

“We’re lucky there’s no cameras on this side…” Kate murmured.

“I...I just assumed that...you know...didn’t want to save the children. And Virgil Bolter and the rest of the Markku group.” Connie added in quickly.

“We agreed to sleep on it. Not impulsively run off just to be killed when the government inevitably kills you.” Logan snapped.

Patton had not seen Logan fuming mad even though he had known him only for a little bit; not including when they were children.

Logan was steely and perfectly poised. His arms crossed, his legs of a normal distance apart, and his face was not red with fury.

But no one wanted to cross him anymore than he already was.

Connie was looking down at her feet, not daring to catch Logan’s glare. “I’m sorry. I just...really wanted to help everyone. We can go home now if you’d like.” She sounded close to crying.

Logan pursed his lips and didn’t say anything for a moment.

Patton wished he knew what was going on in that brain of his. Would he agree and heard them all home or try to do something Kate dubbed “impossible”?

Even though the wind was slapping Patton’s face and the leaves were rustling around, it was silent. No cars were zooming in the distance, and no one dared to breathe.

“No.” Logan said sharply. “We’re getting the kids, the Markku group, and Virgil out.”

Connie’s head shot up and her jaw slacked slightly. “What?” She gaped like a fish out of water.

“We’re getting everyone out of that place.” Logan repeated, his anger running out and replaced with determination.

“First we have to open that door,” Kate pointed, nodding to the door shape in the metal wall that had no doorknob.

“Do you know where it leads?” Patton asked, looking between Connie and Logan.

They both shook their heads.

“When looking at the building’s blueprint a couple of weeks ago I don’t recall seeing a door or a possibility to where it leads.” Logan explained, pushing up his glasses before running his hand along the grove of the outline of the door.

“I came here because there’s no cameras,” Connie explained quietly.

“Is there some sort of secret screen or code to get in?” Patton suggested. “A button to turn it on?”

Logan tried pressing lightly on the wall and around the door.

“Logan!” Kate explained suddenly. “Look at the top corner!”

Patton’s eyes travelled up to the top of the door. His eyes flicked to the right corner then to the left.

In the left corner was the shape of the plus sign with a circle around it. The plus was raised while the space around the circle was indented. It was only the size of a dime; Patton wouldn’t have noticed it if Kate hadn’t pointed it out.

“It’s modified slightly.” Logan stated slowly.

“Exactly. Which means it’s possible Virgil created this door. In any case, this door is not a government door.” Kate said.

Logan outstretched his arm and tapped the symbol right in the center.

The door slid silently to the right. A wave of stale air blew out.

“Well...that was pretty easy.” Connie mumbled quietly.

The four of them walked collectively in through the door. The walls were metal and a greyish white. Up ahead, Patton saw a split in the tunnel.

“What is this?” Connie breathed.

“I don’t see any cameras.” Kate stated, running her her hands along the smooth walls.

They came to the split and Logan looked both ways, tapping his foot which echoed throughout the halls.

“Left?” Connie offered, pointing down the left tunnel which looked exactly like the one to the right.

“They’re duplicates,” Logan said finally. “We aren’t splitting up so, yes, let’s go left,” he nodded, looking over at Connie.

Patton maybe walked three steps before they came to another fork in the tunnel.

“Left?” Connie supplied again.

“Logan nodded and they all went left once again.

“Where do you think it leads?” Kate asked, climbing the metal stairs up a couple of feet.

“A secret laboratory?” Patton wondered out loud.

“Owned by who? The government?” Kate asked.

When they came to the next fork Connie was in the front and she slightly walked right.

Logan didn’t question it; in fact, no one said anything at all.

Patton kept glancing over at Connie, wondering if she just went whichever way she wanted or had some kind of reason why.

Around three minutes passed when Patton could hear voices. One male and one female.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed, smiling, recognizing his voice.

At the same time, Logan and Kate bursted out, “Sophie!”

The voices suddenly stopped and as Patton, Kate, Connie, and Logan drew closer, Virgil and Sophie came into view. Behind them was a wooden panel.

“Logan...Kate…” Sophie trailed off. Her eyes were wide and her eyes flashed between her two group members. Patton found she looked like Connie when Logan had went up to her; ashamed.

Logan ignored Sophie and turned his attention to Virgil. “Virgil Bolter. Nice to finally meet you in person.” He held out a hand.

Virgil hesitantly took it.

“I’m Logan,” Logan introduced.

Virgil’s eyes roamed over the four of them.

Patton grinned at Virgil. He wished Virgil still had remembered everything.

Virgil glanced over at Sophie who nodded in response.

“I’m Kate Pascal,” Kate smiled at Virgil. She turned to Sophie and gave her a death stare.

“Connie Stephanie,” Connie said, her face showing elation and hopefulness.

“I’m Patton Fitzroy,” Patton said, wanting to go up and hug him. “I’m a friend. You came to my house.” He grinned even wider. “I gave your note to Logan.”

Virgil looked overwhelmed and confused.

The six of them were put in a thick silence until Logan turned to Connie. “How did you know which ways to turn in these tunnels?” His voice wasn’t suspicious or accusing, just curious.

“Tunnels?” Sophie repeated.

Again, she was ignored.

“The pencil. Virgil’s pencil.” Connie said, glancing over at Virgil. “Those grooves in the pencil was a map of these tunnels.”

Logan blinked. Patton got the pencil out of his backpack and passed it to Logan.

“How did you find out?” Logan asked.

Connie looked uncomfortable. Her face was flushed red. Whether it was because she was under the scrutiny of Logan or something else entirely, Patton didn’t know.

“Well,” she explained. “I’ve always had a pretty good memory. My dad liked to challenge me so we’d often sit on opposite sides of the room; him with a maze book. I would try to remember which ways to go in the maze to get through. It was a good distraction and something to do when I was bored. Anyway, I was looking at Virgil’s pencil and decided to remember it for fun. When we came inside the tunnel and there was a fork in the road I just decided to go through the maze on the pencil.” Connie shrugged.

“So there you have it,” Sophie murmured, “you made these tunnels.”

Virgil looked more confused than he had before. His eyes were flicking quickly back and forth. His chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“But he can’t have done it alone,” Logan said. “Building a massive maze tunnel in secret.”

“Should we go and try to break out the kids and the rest of the Markku group?” Kate asked suddenly.

Logan had been about to reply when Patton cut in. “You alright Virgil?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at Virgil.

“I don’t know,” Virgil replied meekly, his pale face becoming red. “It’s just...Mr. Edra…he said that I worked here. Why would I make an escape route and all these secret things?”

“Mr. Edra is manipulative and will stop at nothing until he gets what he wants.” Logan explained politely.

“You ran away as soon as the government decided to do human experiments,” Connie piped up,

“But...but...Mr. Edra-” Virgil sputtered.

***

Roman couldn’t sleep.

The window was opened and the wind was blowing roughly around the room.

His red quilt he had brought from home was kicked to the floor in a pile.

Roman’s paper cranes and other origami pieces were swinging from their strings on the ceiling.

After awhile of just floating in his own thoughts, looking at the same ceiling tile, he decided to see if he could go into someone’s hopes and dreams over long distance.

Virgil, Roman thought immediately. He hadn’t looked into Virgil yet.

Roman wasn’t sure how long of a distance his power could work. The two times he used his powers the people were close to him. Roman had no idea where Virgil was but, all he could do was try.

He remembered a lot of movies and listened to enough ebooks to know to close your eyes when doing something cool with your power.

Roman closed his eyes and wondered where Virgil was. Sleeping? Doing some kind of work? Speaking to Mr. Edra who would be spewing even more lies to him?

It felt like an eternity but it was probably more like two minutes when Roman saw Virgil speaking to people.

It was a blinding flash of a vision in front of his eyes so Roman couldn’t get a glimpse of who he was talking to.

When the bright light faded Roman was surrounded by pitch black crystals. They looked like amethyst crystals.

The jagged crystals were poking out of the floor, ceiling, and walls. There was no discernible light source yet Roman could see and, each flat surface of the crystals were reflective and shiney.

Roman swirled around and he could see where Virgil would be standing. It was right in the center and the crystals were covering him, kind of like a tower.

Roman drew closer to Virgil, intent on cleaning the crystals off him.

He raised a hand, doing the same thing he did with Dr. Cross.

The crystals did not fall away, but stayed firmly in place. Roman tried again and got the same results.

He drifted closer, deciding to go for the old way; using his hands.

The crystals were hard and cool to touch, the jagged edges sharp and could possibly draw blood.

The crystals didn’t move when Roman touched them. He pressed harder, feeling the sharp edges digging into his skin.

They still didn’t fall away.

Roman gritted his teeth. Was this the memory block Mr. Edra had done on Virgil? It wouldn’t allow Virgil to see or know his hopes and dreams?

He kicked the large crystal that was holding Virgil out of annoyance.

A small piece of crystal chipped off and clinked to the ground.

For a second there, Roman just stared at the tiny thing before kicking the crystal again.

Once he fully removed the crystal from Virgil, the rest would come off too. Like Canace’s theatre.

Roman didn’t have anything to tell time with but he stayed kicking the crystal. When his right leg became numb and bruised, he switched to his other leg.

When Roman managed to free a little bit of Virgil’s torso, he stopped to take a short break. He was glad the stuff didn’t grow back.

It was then that Roman thought about how much easier the whole thing would be with some kind of tool, like a chisel and hammer.

In less than a second, the a silver chisel and hammer appeared in front of him, floating in midair.

Roman hesitantly reached out a hand to the chisel. His fingers closed around the smooth, brown, wooden handle. He grabbed the hammer with his other hand.

He had no idea he could conjure things but he didn’t want to explore further. Sure, he was curious but there was something more important to do.

Roman began chiseling away at the glittering crystals.

It was easier and faster than kicking, and it hurt less. However, they were still hard to break away.

Roman had a long night ahead of him.

***

Virgil felt floaty and he had a bad headache. This was all too much.

His heart was thumping and there was something...something about his past. It was like a word on the tip of his tongue that he just couldn’t quite remember. Was his amnesia beginning to fade away?

Virgil was sweaty and felt imaginary walls closing in on him. It didn’t help that he had five pairs of eyes on him. He felt like a fish in a fish bowl with little curious children peeking in at him.

Mr. Edra knew what he was doing. He was powerful and trusted Virgil enough to tell him a skeleton code to get through all the doors in the building. Why would he lie to him?

“What about Mr. Edra?” Logan asked, a fire burning in his eyes.

Virgil didn’t like Logan. No, he just didn’t like being around him. He was cold and calculating and made Virgil feel weird. He didn’t know Logan at all but Virgil knew not to mess with him.

“I don’t know…” Virgil finally relented. “It just...doesn’t feel right.” Weakly, he said, “it’s illegal.”

“You’re doing something illegal right now,” Sophie said after a moment. “You’re supposed to tell the government any information if you come in contact, see, or hear anything to do with the Markku group.”

“Don’t you dare talk,” Kate snapped. “Don’t you dare talk about the Markku group.”

“Kate,” Logan said. “She has a point.” He turned to Virgil. “You know Mr. Edra does human experiments, correct?”

Virgil blinked but inside his heart faltered. “So?” He managed out.

“Children,” Connie added in, enunciating the word as she looked at Virgil. She gave Virgil the same vibes as Logan, someone not to mess with.

Virgil bit his lip. He knew human experiments were wrong. Children were even worse. “Okay, okay,” Virgil said, his voice cracking as his headache got worse.

Logan nodded and Connie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Where does that lead?” Patton asked, pointing to the back of the bookshelf.

Virgil turned to Patton. Whereas before when he looked at Patton he drew a blank, now there was an aura of familiarity surrounding him.

Sophie explained about the bookshelf. Logan, Patton, and Connie, were listening to her intently while Kate refused to even look in her direction.

“So, what’s the plan?” Connie asked after Sophie finished.

“Children first the the Markku group.” Logan decided. He turned to Virgil and Sophie. “Where are they held?”

“Over a couple of hallways down,” Virgil replied. “They’re sleeping and the door is locked. I’ve got a skeleton code to get through.” He added in.

Logan nodded. “And the Markku group?”

“Down in the basement.” Sophie said simply. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh no! Ben!”

“What about Ben?” Kate asked, her head swiveling to Sophie. Her eyes were wild and panicked.

“Mr. Edra took him somewhere, to the basement I think, and tied him up.” Sophie said softly. She gazed at the right wall, avoiding Kate’s gaze. “It’s all my fault.”

Logan bit his lip. Kate clenched her fists and took a step toward Sophie.

Patton reined her back. “We’ll find him,” he nodded bravely. “Logan will make sure of it. I will make sure of it.”

Logan ignored Patton’s statement, deciding to neither confirm or deny it. He then turned to Kate. “You think you can deactivate the cameras on the way to get the kids?”

“I’ll try my best,” Kate said, glaring over at Sophie. “Maybe only for a few seconds.” She took a small device out of Patton’s backpack. It looked like a tiny computer.

Virgil watched as Kate powered on the computer and clicked away at the tiny keys.

The silence was unbearable and Virgil felt the need to shout to keep the silence at bay.

“Okay go! We have exactly seven seconds to pass through the first couple of cameras!”

Sophie smacked the button and the wooden bookshelf slid open. There was a man’s portrait on the opposite wall.

Their footsteps pitter pattered through the hallways quickly and silently. Sophie was in the front and Kate was in the back.

“Quick, quick!” Kate hissed.

Virgil glanced back and saw Kate running; her left hand holding the computer up while her right hand was flying over the keys. The computer was balanced precariously on her arm and Virgil hoped the computer wouldn’t fall.

“Almost there!” Sophie whispered.

Virgil felt a huge lump in his throat. This was wrong. This wasn’t the right thing to do. Stealing children at night? But then, it felt like he was supposed to do this. Like he was supposed to be here. He wasn’t uncomfortable or planned to tell Mr. Edra through his wrist bracelet.

“We’re here!” Sophie said, bringing Virgil out of his thoughts. “Quick! Virgil put in the code!”

Virgil didn’t know who was pushing him forward but he felt hands on his back as he was shoved towards the number pad.

He quickly typed in the password, his hands not shaking at all. They were steady and pressed firmly on the rubber buttons.

The door glided over, revealing the common room with the childrens bedroom doors lining the far wall.

“These cameras are easier to get through,” Kate murmured, sitting down on a sofa without taking her eyes off the screen. “Hurry now! Wake the kids and keep them quiet!”

Virgil went to the closest door next to him and swung it open, adrenaline rushing through him.

He came face to face with the boy who had spoken with him saying that he didn’t actually work for the government. He supposed he should apologize but now wasn’t the time. He had on a white PJ top with red pants.

“Virgil?” He asked, a look of shock on his face. It occured to Virgil that he didn’t know his name.

“Get out of your room. No time to get dressed.” Virgil stated. “Be quiet.”

At that exact moment a crying girl pierced the air. “Shhh! Shhh!” Virgil could hear Sophie murmuring in another room.

“What...what’s happening?” The guy asked, walking out of his room.

“We’re getting the twelve of you out of this place. No more questions, help me get the rest of the children awake.” Virgil explained quickly.

He turned around just as Connie walked out of the room next to him, a little boy clinging onto her hand and quietly crying.

Chapter 13

Time seemed to still for Logan when he saw Roman and Connie look at each other. Logan had been getting a girl up and carrying her out when Roman and Connie caught each other’s gaze.

Connie’s eyes immediately teared up and let go of the boy’s hand.

Roman’s eyes went wide with shock and his eyebrows flew upwards.

It felt like time was slowing and everything was going in slow motion when perhaps it was only seconds.

“Connie?” Roman asked, his body stock still.

Connie didn’t say anything but flung herself at the boy, her body shaking from gut wrenching sobs.

They stayed in the embrace, Roman beginning to tear up too.

Logan was incredibly confused; in fact, everyone looked confused. Even Kate had stopped clicking and turned her attention to Roman and Connie.

No one really wanted to interrupt their embrace but they were on a tight schedule.

Logan stepped forward and coughed. “Excuse me? Who is this man, Connie? How do you know him?”

Connie seemed to suddenly realize they had an audience and stepped back from Roman, wiping the back of her palm over her tears. She sniffed, glanced at Roman again, before saying, “my brother-oh my gosh! Ro! I can’t believe it!” Connie blubbered, flinging herself at Roman again, enveloping him into a bear hug.

This time, it was Logan to become still. The entire room went still again, the only ones who seemed immune to it was Connie and Roman.

Brother, Logan repeated in his head. Brother!? He thought more loudly. “You said your brother was gone to university.” He pointed out, his voice cutting through the air like a dagger.

Connie opened her mouth to reply but Kate’s voice came through. “Sorry to break up this all up, but we still have the Markku group to save.”

Logan spun away on his heel, stalking away from the siblings embrace, and into another child’s room. Sheliedsheliedsheliedshelied. Connie lied. Those words rattled in his brain over and over as he lightly shook a child’s body to get them awake. What else had she lied about?

Logan didn’t know why this was affecting him so much. This was about a girl who appeared on his doorstep and elbowed her way into the Markku group.

Then, another epiphany slapped him right across the face. She was taking down Roman’s pictures inside her house. That’s why I didn’t see any pictures of her brother.

The child awoke and Logan nearly hauled them out of bed by the right arm.

When all the children were up and accounted for, they began to move downwards to the basement.

“How are we escaping?” Roman asked, further back down the group.

“Through Virgil’s tunnel.” Connie replied.

Logan didn’t want to look at either of them.

“Are you alright, Logan?” Virgil asked, coming up and matching his steps. “You look a little...stressed-“ he gasped as a thought crossed his mind. “Canace!”

“Canace?” Logan repeated. “Who’s that?”

“Mr. Edra’s daughter. She-she...she has weather manipulation and Mr. Edra put her in with the children. I don’t know where she sleeps though.” Virgil said quickly, his face panicked and anxious.

“Another kid? I thought there were only 12 kids!” Logan said. “And Mr. Edra’s daughter? Weather Manipulation?”

“She was only brought a couple days ago. She no doubt sleeps in some special place locked and seriously watched over.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Logan snapped. “First Ben now Mr. Edra’s daughter?”

“We need to get her out. When she gets older she could possibly stop the storm.” Virgil said.

Logan sighed and his eyebrows drew closer together. “Very well.” He said tightly.

They all walked in silence, the 12 children all deathly silent.

Voices trickled down from a hallway near.

“Boss wanted us to bring the water down, why us?” A male voice grumbled.

“‘Cause you said that you’d just love to do it!” A female shot back.

Their voices got closer and closer to them. Logan quickly pushed Virgil over to the nearest door to open it. Once Virgil quickly typed in his password he ushered everyone inside and hastily shut the door.

The room was pitch black. He didn’t know how large it was but it would have to do.

He brought his face near the crack in the door in time to see two people walk by, a large trolly filled with large containers which were supposedly filled with water.

“Hello?” A voice weakly called out. “Who’s there? Is that you Glen?”

Logan spun around. Someone managed to turn on the lights.

The room they had managed to get in reminded Logan sickly of a hospital, with a frail lady in a white bed and machines next to her, beeping and showing things as soon as the lights were flashed on.

The lady had straw like yellow hair and cloudy blue eyes. Her body was covered with white sheets and she had a young blonde girl cuddled up next to her?

“Canace?!” Virgil exclaimed.

Logan saw relief on his face. His eyes glanced over to Patton who’s eyebrows were drawn together and was looking at the lady. “Winnie…?” He asked slowly, scratching his head.

“Virgil!” Canace exclaimed, jumping up and hopping out of bed, a small smile on her face. “Roman!” She added in, seeing Roman standing over by Connie.

“How...how do you know me?” The woman-Winnie asked, trying to push herself up into a sitting position.

Patton quickly went over to attend to her pillows and help her sit up. “Sirena showed me your’s and Glen’s graduation photo.”

Winnie’s face went sour when Patton brought up Sirena but immediately softened. “I always liked that photo,” she told Patton. “I have a copy of it right here, actually,” she added in, pointing a shaky hand into a drawer next to her.

Patton slid open the drawer.

“Patton,” Logan said quietly, stepping closer to Patton so Winnie couldn’t hear. “We need to get to the Markku group.”

Patton bit his lip and brought out another journal like book.

Logan glazed over the book as Patton flicked through the photos. In each picture there were smiling faces of young Winnie and he suspected young Mr. Edra.

“He’s actually smiling,” Patton murmured.

“What are you doing with all the children?” Winnie asked, her eyes looking at the photos before glancing up to look at the 12 kids.

Logan saw Roman in the far corner on a chair, his eyes spacey and vacant. He ignored him for now, Roman wasn’t the problem.

Before anyone had a chance to speak or think of a lie, Winnie began again. “You’re stealing them away, aren’t you?”

“Winnie, these children here are being hurt...they’re away from their families and are being tested on,” Patton said quietly.

“My husband’s not a monster,” Winnie stated.

Connie snorted.

“There’s a storm coming, you know.” Winnie said. “He’s trying to make super powered children to stop the storm. A Weather Manipulator. We haven’t found them yet, according to my husband, but he’s trying his best.” She wrung her hands.

“But children, Winnie. Children.” Connie piped up. “My brother went off and I haven’t seen him in two years.”

“Well, that was his choice.” Winnie said, flustered. “All the children signed a contract. You can take it back whenever you want.” She was grasping for words.

“What was he like when you first got married?” Patton suddenly said.

Winnie looked slightly surprised at the question. “Oh, he was such a sweetheart. He was head over heels for me. In fact, he fell in love with me at first sight. It was beautiful.” She sighed before shaking her head, getting back on track, and looking at Connie.

“The storm is due to hit tonight. You won’t be getting out of here.” Winnie said.

“How come you aren’t worried?” Logan said, narrowing his eyes. “A storm and you seem fairly calm.”

“My husband built a place underground.” Winnie said defiantly. “We’ll keep testing until we find a Weather Manipulator.”

Logan glanced around. Maybe they should have gotten the Markku group out first instead of the children.

Virgil looked absolutely pale and sick while Roman was still zoning out. What is he doing? He thought.

“Mom?” Canace asked. “What about grandma?” Her lip was trembling. Something told Logan this was the first time she was hearing about the storm. For a kid, she was taking this well.

“She has her own place.” Winnie soothed, running a hand through her daughter’s blonde hair. “She’ll be alright.” She nodded.

“That’s why they were taking water down to the basement!” Connie exclaimed, glancing worriedly over to Roman. Apparently, she didn’t know what was wrong with her brother either.

Logan was antsy and nervous. They had to leave. Soon. They had stayed in one place for too long. They were sitting ducks.

“Go. Go on.” Winnie said, laying down in her bed. “You won’t be able to get out. You’re trapped in here now.” She wasn’t menacing or threatening, just factual and quiet. However, the words shook Logan to the core.

They all didn’t need to be told twice.

Connie shook Roman “awake”

Logan was going down the stairs quickly and quietly, in front of all of the group. They needed a new plan. But what? This was the wrong decision, he thought. But then he remembered Winnie’s words. If he had stayed home he would have been killed. He wasn’t prepared back home. He didn’t have a secret underground bunker with food and water to last until they found a Weather Manipulator.

“What if we kill Mr. Edra?” Connie said, quickening her pace and coming closer to Logan. “Then we won’t have to worry about him and we can torture some guard to tell us where the underground place is.”

It was an okay idea but Logan didn’t want to listen to her. He didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything; he looked straight ahead.

“Very mature,” Connie snapped. “Listen,” she suddenly said. “ I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Roman was my brother. I didn’t think you’d take me seriously if I told you. You would have thought the only reason I wanted to save the children was because of him.”

“And was it?” Logan asked, his voice icy cold.

Connie didn’t respond immediately. Logan didn’t look over at her. The only sounds were of the quiet footsteps of everyone going downstairs.

“Maybe at first.” Connie said slowly. “But then I realized what the government was doing. Before, all I was thinking about was Roman. He took up all of my thoughts. I missed him so much. But I didn’t know the whole picture. And the storm. The Markku group kinda feels like a second family. And you’re kinda like a-“

“-How did you know about the Markku group in the first place?” Logan cut Connie off. He still was unsure about Connie. This was the last question that was nagging his mind.

Connie grinned a little, “you might know my parents. Achbor. That’s our last name. Stephanie’s my middle name.”

Achbor...the name rang a bell in Logan’s mind. Then, it clicked.

“Alexandra and Nick Achbor.” Logan stated, his eyebrows raising. He finally looked over to Connie who was studying him curiously. “You’re their daughter.”

Connie nodded. “And my memory is kinda like a steel trap. I remember being ten or eleven and hearing my parents talk about Logan Markku and the Markku group. About some old house.”

Logan nodded, that made sense. Connie did prove her memory was incredible in the maze.

Alexandra and Nick had been a part of the Markku group and were one of the first members along with Ben and Sophie.

They had decided to leave the group to grow their family without possible danger, which was understandable.

In return, they had to dispose of everything related to their association with the Markku group.

“We’re here!” Sophie said as they came to the basement. She pointed to a thick metal door.

“You’ve got your skeleton password, right Virgil?” Roman asked hesitantly.

Virgil pursed his lips and looked at the keypad. He looked like a sore thumb with his white lab coat against the dark clothing of everyone else. “Perhaps.” He said slowly.

“Sophie, can you stay with the children?” Logan asked, looking over his shoulder. He didn’t know what was behind that door and he wasn’t about to let children see it.

Sophie glanced quickly at the door, the sides of her mouth dropping into a small frown before quickly hiding it and nodding. “Sure.”

Virgil walked over to a door further down the hallway and opened it up easily without password. “Here, you guys can hang out here.”

“What’s in there?” Roman asked.

“When I woke up after the car accident I was there.” Virgil said, shrugging. “It’s spacious.”

Sophie hearded the kids into the room which looked pretty empty and shut the door. Logan hoped they would be alright.

He turned back to the door holding the Markku group.

***

Roman was pretty clueless as to what was happening. Virgil just knocked on his door, explained the plan vaguely and then they were off.

But Connie. Connie was here. His sister was here now, standing next to him as Virgil punched in the password to get inside.

He knew inside was the Markku group but that was pretty much it. He didn’t know where they were going afterwards.

But Roman was also freaking out. Because when they had been in that hospital room with Canace and Winnie, he had been hacking at the crystals in Virgil.

And when he finally managed to get Virgil free (except for the bit at his chest), the rest of the crystals didn’t fall off.

It was the amnesia. The crystals didn’t work like the putty in Canace. They didn’t go away when he cleared off Virgil.

It was infuriating.

He had conjured a massive shovel and began smashing the hard, black, crystals; nothing really happening except a couple of shards flinging up into his face and everywhere. He didn’t care, it didn’t hurt him.

Then, Connie had shaken him back into reality.

He was confused, mad, and slightly annoyed, as who he suspected the brains of this plan, Logan, was giving him the cold shoulder as he was not looking in his general direction.

Roman glanced at Virgil who he couldn’t believe was here—and on their side!

There was a click and Virgil quietly opened the door into blackness.

There was a loud rattle and the building literally shook.

“The storm.” Connie mumbled quietly as loud whistling could be heard and the floor shook periodically.

Kate, Connie, Logan, Patton, Virgil, and Roman walked into the room, the darkness engulfing them.

“Find the light switch!” Someone hissed. Roman thought it sounded like either Logan or Virgil.

The lights flickered on and for a moment everyone was still; everyone’s eyes getting used to the sudden brightness.

The door closed quietly behind them.

Then, an outbreak of muffled voices in gags.

Roman couldn’t count all of them but there must have been maybe a bit more than 25 people.

The far wall was blocked by a thick chain link fence.

It was a cage and the Markku group was behind it, all gagged and trying to say something. They also had bounds around their wrists.

Roman wanted to go back with Virgil and help his memory but now was not the best time.

Instead of the metal and sanitary government walls and area this basement room reminded Roman a lot of the dungeons in old movies with castles and knights.

Roman didn’t like the atmosphere. Grey, dark, and damp.

It all seemed too easy. Not that Roman was complaining.

“It uses a key.” Kate said, frowning. “Ben would have been able to pick it.” She added in, tracing the old fashioned keyhole.

“If they’re that old can we just break it open using force?” Roman offered.

“It’s metal,” Logan said blandly, not looking at him. “It may be old fashioned but we aren’t breaking these things using brute force.”

Roman might have been imagining it, but he was positive there was a certain biting edge in his voice.

One of the guys behind the metal fence turned to look at Logan, his eyes wide and fearful. He seemed to be saying something but the gag muffled his words.

Logan glanced at him, tugging on his tie, before looking around the rather large room with no windows.

There was a loud rumble again and the floor shook.

Roman saw it first. He was holding onto one of the bars on the metal fence so he wouldn’t tip over.

He saw a flash of metal, a long stick, and movement at the far end of the room.

“Duck!” Roman hollered at the same time there was a clicking sound and a whooshing sound.

Roman didn’t know if anyone heard him over their own thoughts and the storm coming down on them.

Something flew over Roman’s head and hit the back wall, clanking off the hard surface and dropping down to the floor. Roman went to pick it up.

It looked like a needle. A small, thin, needle.

“Don’t touch it!” Logan hissed, his head snapping over to look at Roman dead in the eyes.

“I would have thought you’d want me to touch it. I’m sure you’d want me to die anyway.” Roman shot back.

Logan’s eyes widened slightly and was about to say something back before Roman heard footsteps, slow and leisurely.

“Ah, look at that. I was right.” Mr. Edra sighed calmly. He was wearing his normal suit and tie with a cane in his left hand now instead of right.

In his right hand was a short mechanical thing that looked like a gun. It was silver and gleamed in the bright lights.

No one said anything.

Mr. Edra stopped a couple feet away from the group who were all too scared to breathe.

Mr. Edra stroked his gun thing and Roman eyed it nervously. “The first of many of these types of guns. They shoot out poisoned needles. When it lodges into a human’s flesh it secretes the poison immediately and kills the victim slow and painfully.” He paused. “And there’s no known cure for it.”

There was another click and whoosh and a needle was shot out of the gun.

Roman’s eyes tried to follow it but it was too fast and small.

There was madness as people tried to run away from the deadly needle.

Before the needle could hit it’s target Mr. Edra began talking again. “Mr. Bolter, I’m sure you don’t remember but you helped me invent this beautiful creation. It was your idea actually. To erase the world of useless people.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced at Virgil who looked like a ghost.

They were stuck. They were in a checkmate. There were no other possible moves.

He glanced at Connie who was biting her lip and had a hand on her left forearm. Just when he saw his sister again they would be ripped apart again.

“Mr. Edra,” Logan’s voice said icily. “What is your need for-“

“-Mr. Bolter,” Mr. Edra cut in front of Logan. “I thought you were loyal to me and our cause.”

“What is our cause? Tearing families apart?” Virgil asked, standing up slowly, his height a few centimetres taller than Mr. Edra.

“Being hero’s to the world.” Mr. Edra said, smiling, “Glen Edra and Virgil Bolter! Our names on awards. What you’ve always wanted.”

Virgil scowled. “I haven’t worked here forever.” He said. His hands were in his pockets and his legs were shaking. “You lied to me. Why should I be loyal to you?”

Mr. Edra dropped his kind, grandfatherly-like act. “What makes you believe the Markku group and everyone else instead of me?”

Virgil opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it. His eyes were flashing between Logan and Mr. Edra quickly.

Mr. Edra smirked smugly.

“You have a wife! And a kid!” Patton exclaimed desperately. “What would She do if she knew you killed someone.”

Roman had no idea what Patton was doing. A guy as heartless as Mr. Edra was not capable of love or morals.

“She will never know.” Mr. Edra said stiffly. “I will live happily with my wife and child when we find a Weather Manipulator to rid of the storm and a healer to heal her sickness.”

“I don’t know what she sees in you.” Virgil spat.

“She really loves you.” Patton said quietly, looking up at Mr. Edra defiantly.

Roman had to hand it to him, he had the guts.

“She was talking about how much you loved her and it was love at first sight.” Patton went on. “Your graduation photo is really nice too.” He added in.

“But now she’s sick and there’s no cure.” Mr. Edra said, looking away, his face scrunched up. “She doesn’t know I’m looking for a healer among the children.”

“So why kill us?” Roman asked, eyeing his gun wearily. “We could help you find a cure. We could possibly be healers.”

“Not you,” Mr. Edra snapped. “Dr. Cross told me you aren’t a healer. We’re still looking to see what you do.”

She hasn’t told him? Roman thought, surprised. He was sure Dr. Cross was supposed to tell Mr. Edra his power as soon as she found out.

“Why don’t you let us all go and you can go back to your wife?” Connie asked. “We don’t want to do you any harm.” Roman knew that was a lie.

“You are a bunch of meddling children. You ruin my plans and steal and hack into important files commoners shouldn’t see.” Mr. Edra articulated. “The world would be better if without you. I’m trying to save the world. You’re stopping me from doing so.”

“Save the world?” Logan repeated. “By trying to kill people and using children as lab rats?”

“What are you supposed to be doing? Some little rebel group that everyone fears. But what are you trying to accomp—oof!”

One of the Markku members had stuck out a foot through the bars and slammed his foot in the middle of Mr. Edra’s back.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Another large rattle that went through the building came, Mr. Edra did a faceplant on the metal floor, the lights flickered out, and Logan grabbed Roman’s shoulder. “Take Sophie and try to find Ben. The children can fend for themselves. Then bring him back down here.”

There were screams as people toppled over each other from the strength of the storm.

“And Canace!” Virgil’s voice hissed quietly. “She’s a Weather Manipulator but she’s too young and not experienced enough to stop the storm.”

Before Roman could ask where Ben could possibly be and ask how in the world they would take Canace from Winnie, Logan pushed Roman out of the basement and into the bright hallway.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

2 notes · View notes

spirituallyyours · 7 years ago

Text

Casting with Tools VS Free Casting

I've read a few books that have touched on different methods of spell casting. I have also seen a lot of debates pop up here and there about about casting with tools vs free casting; which is better / which is legit / which is easiest / what is required? Below is a few notes and tidbits I've gathered from books, browsing, and stumbling on other posts. I'm trying to put things in my own words cause I don't have all the sources written down in my notes, only just... well my notes.

Casting with Tools

What I mean by 'casting with tools' is using any object in hand while performing a spell, ritual or magical practice. In example: a wand or an athame. These things can have many shapes, forms, colors, and appearances. I have found that there are general ideas of what it should look like, but it hasn't been a set and golden rule in every reference I have read. We are going to touch on the 'tools' first and then more on the actual idea of casting with 'tools'.

A Quick Note: Every reference I've read said it is important to treat your tools with respect and love. A lot of books and sources have an overwhelmingly strong suggestion that they only be used for magical uses.

The Witch / The Caster

I found this to be the most important tool: yourself. Any intentions or energies that are needed must first be built through you. In this way, you are the core, the required tool, for any work. Treat yourself as such and keep yourself healthy (as can be) and happy (as can be). It is also said that you are the pinnacle tool for the element of the 'Spirit'.

The Athame (a-thAM-ay)

This is a ritual knife that is used in many branches of practice.

They have different names such Yag-Dirk (Scottish Traditions) and Seax (See-ax | Sax Wicca).

It is commonly described as having a black handle and with both the blade sharpened on both sides.

It should fit comfortably in your hand so when in use, it does not waver, fall, or get accidentally thrown.

The blade is sometimes kept dull and only sharpened enough for appearances.

Some people personalize their athame with runes, carvings, sigils, etc.

Some are blades made of metals such as steel, iron, copper; others have them as carved stone or bone.

They can be heirlooms or they can be sacred to the person.

An intricate letter opener has also been used as one. It is never used to actually cut things unless it's related to Kitchen Witchcraft (which may be touched on in a new post).

It is said to be a blade to 'cut' the unwanted energies from the spell.

It is used to draw symbols in the air, or cast a circle, or close one.

It is considered masculine and can be a symbol for the god in some practices.

It is associated with both elements of fire and air depending on who you ask.

If Air: intellect and direction of magic in the air.

If Fire: flames are forged in flames and fire can symbolize transformation.

Can represent south.

If you are eclectic or don't have a specific tradition you follow, pick whichever elemental alignment feels right to you.

The Wand

Normally made of wood, but can be made of other materials such as glass or metals.

Some are as simple as a dowel rod with decorations, others are taken off of trees, and some are bought from shops.

People have different wands because different wood types have different magical properties.

You can use a wand instead of an Athame to draw symbols in the air, cast circles, or close them.

It is considered masculin and can be a symbol for the god in some practices.

Oak, hazel, elder and willow are common woods used.

If you wish to gather from a living tree, many suggest asking the tree first for permission and then waiting until you feel you have it and leave a thank you offering after.

Wands from living trees are suggested to be gathered with a boline (touched on further below) or some other consecrated tool for this purpose.

Some believe that hands made wands by the person who intends to use them are stronger.

It is associated with both elements of fire and air depending on who you ask.

If Air: often waved about in the air.

If Fire: an agent of transformation.

Can represent east.

If you are eclectic or don't have a specific tradition you follow, pick whichever elemental alignment feels right to you.

The Chalice / The Goblet

Use to represent female properties (symbolism of the womb of a woman) and the goddess in some practices.

Can be made of many different materials but do your research on reactions to water and wines or if it is safe to be in contact with foods or drinks.

Ceramic chalices are growing in popularity cause they are easily obtained.

It can represent abundance, fertility, or opening of yourself if it remains empty.

Normally preferred to be silver to represent the color and metal of the goddess but isn't advised cause it can be toxic to drink.

Plastic is NOT recommended as it is not an Earth-sourced material.

Is associated with the element of water.

Can represent west.

The Pentacle / The Pentagram / The Paton

Usually it's a metal or wood disk with with a five-pointed star in a circle inscribed on it for alters.

You can find it in other materials, often pewter for pendants, but a wide variety of materials have been used: wood, clay, stone, and wax.

Can be intricate or simple—looks do not matter except for personal preference.

Crafting one of your own is also doable but it is advised to charge it with positive energy before you make it or as you work on it.

A Paton is found in ceramic or glass but use to be made of disposable materials such as paper to easily hide practices.

It doesn't have to have a five pointed star, but most works associate it with it; meaning it can be any magical symbol, one or more, on top of a disk of some kind.

Can be used as a focal point in magical workings.

Can be used to consecrate magical tools.

(Five Pointed Star in a Circle) Each point represents an element: Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and Spirit (which is always the point going upward).

Used in association with female and the goddess in some practices.

(Five Pointed Star in a Circle) It is often inscribed on a a great number of objects such as the hilt of an athame or the cover of a Book of Shadows.

(Five Pointed Star in a Circle) Drawn in the air during spell work with Athame or Wand to enhance the power.

(Five Pointed Star in a Circle) Consider a symbol of protection from negative energies or those who may intend harm.

Is associated with the element of earth.

Can represent north.

A Quick Note - Pentacle vs Pentagram: A lot of people use these interchangeably. In fact, the Oxford English Dictionary uses them as pretty much the same word. The argument with definitions instead of words would be as follows:

“A talisman or magical object, typically disc-shaped and inscribed with a pentagram, used as a symbol of the element of earth. // A pentagram // One of the suits in some tarot packs, corresponding to coins in others.” ( https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/pentacle ) VS “A five-pointed star that is formed by drawing a continuous line in five straight segments, often used as a mystic and magical symbol.” ( https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/us/pentagram )

In the end, from my research, it only matters if you want to talk about a magical talisman, in which case, it is better to call it a 'Pentacle', but that doesn't mean it has to have a pentagram on it. It's... confusing. We're moving on.

Some sources consider these as the 'lesser' tools or the ones that are easier to have on hand and to use. It seems to be a good set for general workings—kind of like how you can sketch with a lead pencil but more drastic or important pieces 'should' have professional pencils on the gradient scale. I, personally, find them to be equal in effectiveness. The 'greater' or ceremonial versions share the correspondences of their lesser versions and are as follows: Sword/Athame, Staff/Wand, Cauldron/Chalice.

A Quick Note: In a book called 'Full Contact Magic', the spear is the greater tool of air and the shield is the greater tool of earth, but I have only the one source for the shield... but the book was good IMHO!

The Staff

Much like wands, having multiple staves isn't as uncommon as having multiple wands with different woods and purposes. In some practices, it is seen as having a different purpose than a wand but still related to the element of air, such as being a marker for elemental quarters or a personal tracker of your magical journey.

The Cauldron

The cauldron can represent bounty and blessings, and represent reincarnation and the rebirth cycle. Though it used common to represent water and to scry, it is totally capable of representing fire with a small bonfire within for burning spells or incense.

Other tools that aren't as 'core' as the ones listed above include: broom or besom, bell, robes or clothes, censer or incense burner, boline.

The Broom / The Besom

Used to cleanse a ritual areas.

Jumped over in hand-fasting ceremonies if they wanted children.

Hung by a door with the bristles pointing down to keep out unwanted energies.

A fertility symbol.

The Bell

An uncommon tool but related to the divine.

It is related also to female forces due to it's shape.

Sound is symbolic for creative forces.

Can be used to banish negative energies and invite in positive energy.

It has a wide range of creative uses, such as clearing spaces, or charging materials for spell work, or something as simple as denoting for a group when one section of a spell as ended and/or has moved to the next stage.

The Robes / The Attire

The first option that comes up is skyclad or in the nude, meaning you wear the sky as clothing itself or you bare yourself to the god and goddess in the light of the sky.

Special clothing for magical working should be kept as only that, so that wearing it helps put your mind in the magical mindset.

Robes, cloaks, or a wrap of some kind is a common dedicated ritual attire over comfortable clothes.

Skyclad is an option ONLY if you are comfortable and not breaking laws (don't get in trouble! -SY)

Dedicated jewelry can also work such as a necklace or a ring that has special significance to you.

It can be several things, limited only by what makes you feel the most magical and connected to your work.

Dedicated clothes or jewelry is not required at all in spell working with tools, it simply adds to bringing you into the mindset.

The Censer / The Incense Burner

Represents the elements of Air (the smoke) and Fire (the ember).

Can cleanse a space.

Creates a sacred atmosphere.

Can help bring someone into a state of mind to communicate with the spirit world.

Can be loose herbs in a fireproof dish, incense stick or cone.

The different combination of herbs and smells can help bring different properties to the spell work.

Boline

Commonly a white handled knife, single blade and sharpened.

Blade can be crescent shaped or straight, though crescent is less practical for carving or cutting.

Very similar to the athame in materials.

Some Wiccan traditions don't like to use a blade that has cut animal flesh as a boline but it boils down to personal or tradition choice.

With the exception of kitchen witchcraft, the boline shouldn't be used outside of magical practices and kept with your other tools.

Can be used to cut cords, herbs, ribbons, carve symbols into wood or candles, or shaping a wand, etc.

We've covered the basic tools and some less common ones. There are more that I am sure people have and use but I have not come across as much in my readings. We move to a basic idea of the purpose of using a tool in your magical work.

A tool, by definition, is a hand held device used to carry out a particular function. Thus, these items are to help you channel the energy and spell work to your desired outcome. Actions done with your magic helps to solidify that your actions are magical, that your energy is moving where you will it, that what is being done is not a mundane or common placed action: that it has power. If you have glanced around beyond successful spells, and glanced at failed ones, some key reasons for failure is the lack of confidence in what they were doing. Others are that the universe has decided that now is not the time... but the most common ones I have seen and experienced has been a lack of confidence in what you are doing.

When you channel into your hand, sometimes you are busy looking for a physical sign from yourself that something is happening. Doing this to an item, such as an athame as you direct the energies of your work, can help to cut off the need for a scientific view, and help guide you into the spiritual idea of things.

I am sure that there are many other points to be made by other practitioners who use tools and perform ritual work but I am noticing this post is getting kind of long so I'll move to the next point.

Free casting is when you do a spell with your willpower, concentration, and focused imagery. We all have used a form of free casting: shielding. If you have practice with shielding and energy work while sitting somewhere or meditating, you hare already doing a form of free casting.

When I shield, I imagine a series of vibrant images to form the desired outcome. With confidence in my own strength (not cockiness), a strong sense of energy work and manipulation, I can free cast my shield without so much as shifting my demeanor. If you know what you want done, and have a good amount of practice in the smaller spells, then free casting may be more popular in your work.

It's helpful if you are out and about, and find yourself in need for a small boost or a quick bit of aid in something. I use it a lot when I don't want people to bother me at work (I have social anxiety and work retail). I also use it a lot before going to empathetic situations (such as a funeral). I have done small spells in my car when I am feeling anxious to help myself prevent accidents.

Free casting is simple for the smaller things that Casting with Tools may just take too long to want to have, say, a good day at work. I would say that having a good basis in both is a healthy way to practice actual spell work. Neither is required in all practices, but some may have it's own requirements so I can't say that for sure, all practice as as you see fit. Find what works best with you. If you have a hard time breaking your spiritual mindset from your practical one, then I say work with tools first. If you can very easily put yourself in the moment, in the spiritual vibe that spell work can envoke, then free casting may come more naturally. I find myself doing less ritual work, and more free casting, but I have also made a wide number of witch balls, protection packets, and small good luck charms.

TL:DR Do what makes you feel the most connected with your practice. If you feel silly at any point, perhaps that is simply not the practice for you at this time.

Notes from the Book of Shadows of SpirituallyYours It’s a collection of information I’ve found from multiple sources If you have suggestions, corrections, or anything you think I should know about, feel free to message me and I’ll learn and update for others to know too <3

#spirituallyyoursoriginals #pagan #witch #casting #tools #free cast #casting with tools #not much of an arguement #just my notes #spiritually yours originals

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