#when both of them were already on first name basis on the first chapter of his route/also on tokiya and ren's route too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

msbigredmachine · 3 months

Text

New To This - Chapter 1

Jaded by her fiancé’s disinterest in her ambitions to become a professional wrestler, Delilah Parrish’s life takes an interesting turn when one of WWE’s top names offers her the support she’s not getting at home.

Pairing: Jey Uso/OC

Warnings: As we go along...

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This was initially a Roman fic but I realized I have too many upcoming stories featuring him, so I switched it up and passed it off to Jey. Hope you enjoy!

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

“Come on, Parrish, move your ass! Get on her!”

The damp, unruly strands of baby hair in Delilah Parrish’s eyes temporarily obscured her vision and made it difficult to take on her trainer’s instruction. Brushing them away impatiently, her mind flitted to the next line of offense, but her opponent had tackled her to the canvas before her thoughts could fully register. The hard surface made unfriendly contact with her body, but the rushing adrenaline helped fight off the pain, and she battled with her opponent trying to twist her body into a sleeper hold. Delilah tried to concentrate on countering the hold, but between the hundreds of thoughts scrambling around her head and the yelling coming from outside the regulation wrestling ring, it was a near impossible feat.

“For fuck’s sake, Parrish, what are you doin’?” Pounding his palm hard on the mat, her trainer, Makena 'Tank' Kalua, shouted again. “Quit pullin’ her arm like that! You’re gonna break it!”

The other woman, an older, more experienced student named Janie from England, easily slipped out of the armbar Delilah was attempting on her and sat up, seizing both of Delilah’s legs and twisting them in a figure-four leg lock. Usually it was Delilah’s job to sell this move, try to roll over to ease the pressure, or even grab the bottom rope for relief, just like she’d learned. Instead, she kicked her legs carelessly, grunting as she wildly fought out of the hold.

“What the fuck! Is that what I taught you?” Tank screamed again. Blowing the whistle around his neck, he reached under the bottom rope and grabbed Delilah by her leg, forcibly dragging her out of the ring and setting her on her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Huffing irritably, Delilah yanked her arm away from him and marched away to the other end of the warehouse, ignoring Janie and the other girls that glared wearily after her, wondering what Tank saw in her to begin with. Delilah wondered that herself sometimes.

Ever since she was a little girl growing up in the tiny town of Pensacola, Florida, she dreamed about being in the middle of the fabled squared circle, performing for sellout crowds all over the world, making a name for herself in the notoriously tough wrestling business. And now she was finally getting her chance. In two days’ time, she would be partaking in her very first singles match, lacing up the boots she had worked two extra shifts at the local gym to afford. At last, she was taking that small step towards her dream.

So why did she not feel ready? Why was she doubting herself at the last hour?

One word; Andre.

She was starting to lose count of how many fights they’d gotten into in the six months since she’d embarked on what her fiancé openly thought was her childish desire to become a professional wrestler. Once he realized that it wasn’t just some hobby she would lose interest in after a week, his support began to dwindle more and more as the months went on. There were heated arguments between them on a weekly basis it seemed, mostly on what her ambitions were costing the couple financially. After all, they still had a wedding to plan; their already tight budget was being nibbled at by her exorbitant wrestling class fees. There were bills to pay around the house; she’d already squandered a month’s salary to purchase her wrestling outfit and boots. Yesterday, Delilah had kept quiet, refused to argue, and let Andre vent all he wanted. But this morning, her nerves were starting to kick in over her upcoming match, and when Andre began another tirade as he headed out to work, she not-so-politely shut him down. Tempers were lost and words were exchanged, and both left the house angry. Delilah hadn’t heard from him all day. Secretly, she was glad. She didn’t need his crap today.

Evidently, Tank didn’t need her crap either. The trainer usually gave her some leeway but today he wasn’t having it at all. “Hey, get your ass back here!” His deep, angry voice sounded behind her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “Where ya goin’ huh? You wanna run home like a little girl?” he asked her. “Go ahead, go.”

“Just stop, alright?” Delilah snapped, her fists clenched involuntarily as she fought the urge to hit him right in his face. Unfortunately she didn’t stand a chance against him, not when he weighed over a hundred pounds more than she did and was an entire foot taller than her, and certainly not with his over two decades of wrestling experience in comparison to her puny half-year.

Moving closer to her, Tank placed a calloused hand on her shoulder. “What’s goin’ on Dee? You’ve been acting up today.”

Delilah knew she was among the very few trainees Tank afforded the luxury of his concern and sympathy. She liked to think it was because she was one of the teachable ones, easily picking up the wrestling moves like she’d been doing it for years. She was always one of the first to arrive and one of the last to leave, helping set up the ring and take it down after classes. Her attitude was refreshing, and she eventually managed to become something resembling a friend to him.

But there was only so much friendship could do for her current situation. Running a hand through her hair, Delilah tried to figure out where to start answering his question. She was fuckin’ tired, for one. She was wrestling in front of an actual crowd in a mere forty-eight hours. Her fiancé was being an ass. Her pride however, wouldn’t let her say those things out loud. That he considered her to be a friend didn’t mean she had to go crying to him for every problem she had. “It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she murmured, choosing to focus on the Polynesian tribal tattoo spread over his right arm.

Tank rolled his eyes with a huff. “We both know that’s bullshit, but if you say so.” Turning back for the ring, he sighed heavily. “You got sixty seconds to clear your head, then you get your ass back in that ring. We got shit to do so hurry up.” With that, he walked away.

She expected no other response. He never coddled her, not during working hours anyway. She didn’t want him to, either. The last thing she wanted to look was weak in front of fellow trainees; people, as Tank always reminded her, who wanted this career, who wanted this life, more than anything else in the world. And that brought her back to the same question she’d been asking herself for months.

How badly did she want it?

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

The next couple of hours seemed to go on forever. Tired, bruised and battered from a long day of training, Delilah hitched her bag over her shoulder and cast a glance at the round black clock on the wall as she walked towards the exit of the warehouse. Andre had sent a text message that filled her with hope of reconciliation after their heated morning. Maybe they could sit down and talk about what had happened, and hopefully work things out like they always did.

“Hey, Parrish, come here a sec,” Tank's voice sounded out of nowhere. “Got someone I want you to meet.”

Sighing heavily, Delilah turned her gaze towards the doorway of the small office where he stood. “Do I have to? I gotta meet up with Dre.”

“He’ll be there when you get home,” he dismissed her excuse. “Come say hi. You won’t regret it, come on.”

With a quiet groan, Delilah shuffled toward the office. “I hope not,” she mumbled, stopping short when her eyes fell upon the hulking, tattooed figure sitting on Tank's desk. Her eyes widened and her jaw slackened, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Oh shit!”

Tank's grin widened as he pushed her further into his office. “Told ya. Delilah, meet Jey Uso. Jey, this is one of my students, Delilah Parrish.”

Standing up from his place on the edge of his friend’s desk, Joshua Fatu extended a hand to the toned beauty standing in front of him. He smiled when she placed her hand in his, noticed how it trembled. “Sup, Delilah, nice to meet you,” he said.

Delilah tried to reply, but her mouth seemed to have forgotten its primary function. She could feel her face burning as she continued to hold his large hand, wanting to let go but somehow unable to. It wasn’t every day she shook hands, or was even within a mile radius of Main Event Jey Uso himself. She’d been a big fan of his ever since his debut with his brother, Jimmy. To see them evolve and grow from a tag team to singles stars was so rewarding. The Bloodline storyline was must-see TV for her, and she had found herself sympathizing with the Right Hand Man over the course of the storyline. She followed him on X and Instagram, and had a couple of his Yeet T-shirts. To be in the presence of a man whom she watched on TV every week, a guy she grew to idolize and respect so much, was beyond mind-blowing.

Before her silence could grow awkward, Delilah removed her hand from his grasp. She’d always hoped that the day she got to meet a WWE Superstar, she’d act much cooler and more composed and not like the average tongue-tied fan. She knew she just failed miserably.

Josh crossed his muscled arms over his chest, his gaze firmly on her face. “So Delilah, Tank tells me you gotta lot of potential, uce. Says you’re very talented,” he said, his deep, gruff voice tinged with curiosity.

“Well, all those bumps he’s taken over the years have finally damaged his brain cells,” she said sarcastically, smiling when she drew a laugh from both men, particularly Jey.

“Nah, I’ve known this fool for damn near twenty years now,” said Josh, jerking his thumb in Tank's direction, “If he say you got talent, then you got talent.” He sat back on the desk and let his eyes admire her, silently wondering just how smoking hot the body hidden underneath the baggy clothes was. “So how long you been training?” he inquired.

Delilah shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. “I started working out about nine months ago, tryna get in ring shape,” she answered. “But I’ve been training for about six.”

Josh nodded his head. “And your first show’s the day after tomorrow, right?” he queried, keeping his eyes on hers.

“My first match,” she corrected him. “I’ve been to a few shows, done some ring announcing, valeted a couple of times,” she added proudly, as though that would make her look more credible in her idol’s eyes. As she spoke, she stole the chance to look him over. Diamond Cuban links glittered around his neck and both his wrists and gave a shine to his fitted Nike sweatsuit that covered up the tattoos she knew decorated a good portion of his russet skin. He was taller than she expected, and just as ruggedly handsome. And those eyes…a hint of danger lurked behind the jovial, friendly facade, very much giving off bad boy vibes. Against her will, she was intrigued.

Ignoring the eye-fucking session going on in his office, Tank patted Josh’s shoulder. “A’ight y’all, time to get outta here.” He ushered the two of them out of his office and towards the exit of the gym.

“So…what brings you back to town, Jey?” she asked Josh as they walked side by side behind Tank.

The Samoan smiled at the young woman who hadn’t stopped blushing since they met. “Not much. Just hangin’ out with family and shit,” he replied. “Thought I’d come visit my mans over here, but now I hear there’s a show in town, I may just stick around a while longer.” He paused, noting the way her face paled a little. “You nervous?”

Delilah blew out a breath. “Honestly? I’m terrified.”

Josh shook his head. “Naw, don’t be. Focus on all the positives, how far you’ve come, and you’ll be fine.”

She nodded and bit her lip. That was reassuring, just a little bit. “Thanks,” she said, noting that her trainer’s car was heading their way. Tank always dropped her off at home as he lived not too far off from hers. “Well, I better get going. It was so cool to meet you, Jey,” she added, thinking it better to wave this time rather than shake hands.

“Same here Delilah. And trust me when I say I’ll be seeing you more often in the future,” Josh replied.

For some reason, it sounded to Delilah like there were a handful of promises in those words, but she waved off the silly notion immediately and opted to leave before she made a fool of herself in front of the Jey Uso. It felt like she was walking on air as she approached Tank's car, still star-struck, still stunned by the last couple of minutes that had just happened.

But then, as she slammed the car door shut, she remembered what was waiting for her at home, and with a tired sigh, she was forced to push the moment away, forced to forget about the intense brown eyes that continued to stare after her even as the car drove away from the warehouse.

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

Thoughts so far?

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

TAGGING: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya @mzv11 @kia1996 @randomuser0711 @yourtribalqueen @caramelcleopatraa @katymae12344 @that-one-anxious-mango @yana3sworld @ajenae @truefant4sy @thetribalqueen @bhjszsdxc

#jey uso #jey uso fanfic #jey uso imagine #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #main event jey uso #jey uso x black oc

166 notes · View notes

stxrlostseung · 4 months

Text

falling, fallen · kim seungmin 🪼

falling, fallen : chapter one 📎

academic rivals to lovers (seungmin x fem!reader)

word count: 1.3k

warning(s) : mild swearing, slow burn (?)

← prologue ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ chapter 2 →

🪼 a.n: please read the prologue (linked above) if you haven't already !! tysm · · · · · i'm planning to try and post a new chapter every weekend, please look forward to it !! enjoy this one for now 💭

the chatter of students filled the lecture hall.

the dark blue cushioned seats in the curved rows bent into a semicircle around a small stage filled as the minutes ticked, nearing 9 o'clock. it signified the first class in the spring semester for students enrolled in the humanities major at seoul university.

you were one of these students.

a laptop and many papers were laid in front of you on the light wooden table that extended in your long row of seats, nearing the middle of the hall. every now and then you raised your wrist to check the small watch there, watching the small arm rotate around the round object, nearing the start of the lecture with every swift tick.

the chatter throughout the large hall suddenly grew louder as several loud voices joined in. the door swung open and a group of guys’ laughter filled the hall, echoing in the big room. the majority of people who were quietly waiting for the lecture to start looked back towards the door of the lecture hall with an annoyed glance, unhappy that peace and quiet was even further from being achieved.

you glanced back, annoyed as well, but you added an eye roll and a small scoff when you realized who was responsible for contributing to the noise.

a group of guys, well known to everyone not only in the humanities major, but throughout the entire campus. though you knew who they were and hated them for all the trouble they caused, there was one person in that group you hated in particular, more than the others.

seungmin.

———————

"you dumbass." "you idiot." "how about you take your brain and shove it up your butt?" "which part of it?" "oh, just shut up, you're so annoying." these conversations and nicknames had been spoken on a (nearly) daily basis, from you to seungmin and from seungmin to you. back and forth.

you both had known each other since high school, both top students competing against each other to get better marks, to get into better universities than each other. you often strived to overdo each other when it came to almost anything related to grades.

this was also what landed you two in the roles of academic rivals automatically.

he was the person who was utterly annoying, while you were the person he annoyed regularly. you were supposed to hate him, and you did.

when you graduated from high school, you’d hoped to escape from him, to get into a different university and part ways with the annoying guy who nagged at you 24/7, played pranks on you, and called you names whenever you saw each other. every time this happened you would just scoff and roll your eyes then walk away, too tired to play along to his childish games. you applied to every good university you could find, hoping the one that offered the highest scholarship would not be the one seungmin went to as well.

in other words, good riddance.

at the end of the june before you were supposed to start school, seoul university accepted your application. with a half-paid scholarship.

which was the best you could have hoped for, considering that seoul university was one of the best in the country.

you practically screamed of happiness when you opened your laptop that day to find that email there, sitting in your inbox.

you were cheerful for a whole week after you accepted the university’s invitation—

until another series of events started.

how unlucky could you get? “hey idiot, you’re going to seoul university too?”

your wishing had not worked. that extremely annoying voice broke your false hope once again.

seungmin.

you were going to die.

———————

the group of boys continued down the aisle in the lecture hall, ignorant to all the glances everyone was giving them. you turned back and scowled at your laptop, crossing your arms over your chest.

you had hated seungmin for his antics and teasing since high school, and you weren’t going stop now, in your second year of university. you were immune to his charms, unlike the majority of girls, who would probably swoon for any guy who was tall, good-looking and played any sport.

suddenly the hall went quiet and you straightened up as our professor came onto the stage, arranging papers on the podium and adjusting the microphone attached to it. she looked around the hall, spotting the seven guys who were in the middle of an aisle and still had not sat down. she scowled and narrowed her eyes at them.

“boys in the back, find a seat in 10 seconds or it’s out of the hall for you,” professor cho said in an authoritative tone through the microphone.

at this, the guys froze and started fumbling to find seats. you almost burst out laughing at their actions.

“for heaven’s sake, boys, there is a perfectly empty row of seats right behind you,” the professor deadpanned, not even hiding her impatience at this point.

this time, you were the one who froze at your professor’s words. that was your row. the row you were sitting in. you quietly cursed under your breath. what a great way to start off the spring semester.

you cringed internally as the guys shifted their gaze towards you. you could practically feel the amount of smugness radiating off all of them as you heard shuffling next to you and then quiet bickering.

as the professor promptly started the lecture, you stole a glance at the seven guys just two seats away, still messing around with each other. you wondered how seungmin could keep up with his grades all the while being so carefree.

frowning, you grabbed your pen, starting to take notes and concentrating on the speaking professor.

two and a half hours passed like ten minutes, in the blink of an eye.

“students, i’m going to assign a project that will revolve around all of you for the entire spring semester,” the professor announced near the end of the lecture, in a better mood since the start.

“you will be partnered with another person, two people per group,” all the students’ immediate whispers began.

professor cho proceeded to explain the project.

“this project is a very important one that will cost you a big portion of your grade, so this is not to be messed around with,” she continued, ignoring everyone’s groans around the lecture hall about stress due to schoolwork.

“i trust you will all choose your partners wisely, thank you,” with that, the collective sound of chairs being pushed back started as the professor disappeared off the stage.

sighing, you stuffed your things back into your bag. if there was one thing you hated in school, it was partnered projects and assignments. wanting to be alone and avoiding social contact sure wasn’t as easy in school.

you stood up and heaved your bag onto your shoulder, heading towards the end of the row to get out of the hall until someone stopped you.

if you said you were straight-up unlucky, you certainly would not be lying. experiencing an unfortunate series of events at the most unexpected times was probably a gift or something from above. or below, whatever.

“hey, idiot,” it was seungmin.

of course he had to come to you with his extremely annoying presence at this very inconvenient time. you should have figured, knowing your luck when you were around him.

you looked up, sighing. he was standing directly in the middle of the aisle, both hands gripping the tables on either side of him, blocking your path.

“what do you want?” you asked impatiently, in a rush to get to your next destination.

seungmin leaned onto one of the tables and smirked.

a smirk that could probably make many girls on campus, excluding you, as you might add, faint to the ground on the spot.

you had started to try and get past the annoying blonde when he suddenly spoke.

“do the project with me.”

taglist OPEN !! please request in comments if you want to be added 🤍

67 notes · View notes

heartateasee · 3 months

Text

“Chapter One”

Word Count: 6.7k

(Chapter one to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

●・○・●・○・●

Sitting in my makeup chair, I stare at myself in the vanity mirror. The bright bulbs surrounding it are causing me to squint a bit. My usual hair stylist wasn't able to make it out to LA for this show, and I wasn't upset about that. She had a family emergency, and for me, friends and family came before anything for those around me. The woman behind me, whose name I learned was Lisa, was just finishing up the curls she was putting into my hair. She was middle aged from what I could see, and she could style the hell out of some hair. I had just gotten my wolf cut shaped for this specific show since it was the last one of my current tour, and she couldn't stop complimenting me on how much it suited me.

After this, I will be taking a break to work on a new album here in LA. I've purchased a house and had a recording installed so that I'll be able to work there instead of traveling around. Although my parents didn't live here anymore, this was still the place I considered home. I left almost two years ago when I got signed to my record label, and it's been almost three years since I've actually been back.

As much as I had tried to deny it, there was a part of me that had avoided LA on the two other tours I've gone on before this one. I wasn't ready to face the people here who knew me, and most of all, I don't know how I would act if I were to see him.

I went through a few years of therapy to get over the emotional turmoil I went through after Harry and I's friendship ended. It was necessary. I avoided human contact with anyone but my parents for almost a whole year because of it, and I finally took the step at finding a therapist - forcing myself to make the appointments for a few months until I actually started to look forward to it.

It's been almost a year since the last appointment with my therapist, the both of us deciding that I no longer needed to be seen on a monthly basis as I had been. We agreed that I could reach out to her when needed, and she assured me that she would be available any day and any time.

"Alright, since I'm finished with your hair, I'm gonna go grab your girl to finish up your makeup, okay?" Lisa asks, and I give her a nod.

"Yes, thank you so much for doing this last minute. I really appreciate you."

"Of course, sweetheart."

She gives me a squeeze to my shoulder as she exits the room, and I sigh as I grab my pack of cigarettes off the vanity. I slip one between my lips, lighting it up as I stare at myself in the mirror once again. It looks like the only things I have left for my makeup is eyeshadow, lashes and lips, and I know those won't take too long since the base of everything is already set.

I take a drag of my cigarette, flicking the ash into the tray in front of me. Pulling my bottom lip through my teeth, I keep the stick between my fingers as I rub the tip of my thumb over one of my brows out of stress.

There were going to be people here tonight that I haven't seen in years. I knew that by keeping my real name instead of choosing a stage name that as soon as I decided to come home that it would bring attention. I wasn't famous on a large scale by any means, but I did have a decent following, and this current tour has opened a lot of new doors for me.

I had invited Mikey and Kailey considering I'd kept up with them pretty regularly over the years, but they both were busy tonight with their jobs. I've actually flown the both of them out to a few shows, and at first I was worried that the both of them would be offended that I got a whole new band to back me up instead of them, but they understood why I didn't. That would feel too much like having the band without him, and that was just something I couldn't ever bring myself to do.

I've only ever brought him up once, and it was to Kailey after the third show I flew her out to. She said she wanted to talk to me about it as well, but she didn't know how to bring it up. He was still in the area, that was for sure from things that Kailey had heard, but she had only ever seen him twice since everything happened.

The first time was at a gas station and he was grabbing a pack of cigarettes, however, he didn't see her. The second time was at a house party she was invited to, and Harry was just showing up as she was leaving. She told me that he was already pretty drunk from what she could tell, and they made eye contact, but he immediately looked away and kept making his way into the party. She told me that Mikey hasn't heard or seen him at all.

"Sorry, sorry, I was finishing my dinner."

I'm brought out of my thoughts as I see Christy, my makeup artist, come rounding in front of me. "Okay, so just a few things left, Marls," she says, eyes scanning over my face before giving herself a nod.

I take a few more quick drags of my cigarette before snuffing it out.

Christy begins to apply some primer to my lids before shuffling through some of the palettes she brought with her. "Since your outfit is a dark creme and black color scheme, I think I'm going to go with a darker lid, what do you think?"

"Yeah, yeah," I nod, clearing my throat before looking back at myself in the mirror. "That sounds good to me. I trust you, you always take care of me."

Christy stands back in front of me and sends me a smile as I close my eyes, allowing her to work her magic. My hands were slightly clutching to the arms of the makeup chair as I felt the bristles of the makeup brush on my lids.

It's quiet between the two of us for a while before Christy speaks up. "You're a little more nervous than I'm used to seeing," she comments. "Are you nervous about potentially seeing..."

Christy has been my makeup artist for the last two and half years, and within that time, I've opened up to her a lot about things in my personal life. Other than my manager, she's probably the person I confide in the most while on the road, and sometimes even off of it. I try my best not to bother either of them when we're taking a break from touring, and they're back at home with their families, but both of them have assured me time and time again that I'm not doing that when I reach out.

"A little bit, yeah," I confess, licking over my bottom lip. "But I also don't think that he'll come. He probably doesn't even remember at this point."

I can hear Christy sigh, and I feel the brush fall from my skin for a moment. My eyes flutter open to see her staring down at me - head tilted to the side.

"Now you and I both know that you don't actually believe that for a second."

Scowling slightly, I cross my arms and slouch in my chair. "No, I don't. You have to understand that it's easier for me to think that way though than to think he does remember me, and that he hasn't reached out at all."

"Trust me, I definitely get that," Christy says with a nod, and I close my eyes again to let her continue. "But I also don't think it's completely fair to yourself to just say he's forgotten you. I highly doubt that he has."

"Who knows at this point though? Literally no one I still speak to has actually talked to him. I have nothing to go on."

Christy remains silent as she finishes my eye makeup, and she continues to not speak as she applies my lashes. I'm sure she's stopped speaking on the subject to keep me from getting even more nervous than I already am.

As she starts to work on my red lips, I see the door open in the mirror.

"You have fifteen minutes before you're on, Marlowe," Lys, my manager, says as she pokes her head into my dressing room. "Do you need any help getting into your dress?"

I shake my head once Christy pulls the lip product she was using away for a moment to give me a chance to respond. "No, I've got it. Thank you though."

Lys nods, but instead of stepping out, she makes her way into the room, standing behind me as Christy finishes up on my lips. She places her hands on my shoulders, massaging them softly as we make eye contact through the mirror.

"You've got this. I know this is your first hometown show, and that it probably feels extremely stressful for you right now, but just remember what you always say before each and every show - you won't be able to see past at least the fourth row because of the lights, these people are here to see you because they already love your music, and you wouldn't be up on that stage to begin with if you weren't immensely talented."

Christy moves away for a moment, before she stands back in front of me with some setting spray. I close my eyes and feel the product misting my skin, and then I feel air fanning against it as Christy dries it by waving her hands in front of my face.

"All done, and looking as beautiful as ever," she says, reaching down to grab my hands.

With the both of them making contact with me, it does help me ground myself a little bit. I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath as I give Christy's hands a squeeze.

"Thank you guys so much, seriously," I tell them, blinking my eyes back open. I shift in my chair a bit so I can look at the both of them, Lys moving both of her hands to drape over one of my shoulders. "I don't know what I would do without the both of you."

"Crash and burn, probably is what I'd say, " Lys says with a shrug, looking over to Christy. "What do you think?"

"Oh absolutely," Christy agrees with a nod.

I roll my eyes before popping up out of my chair, walking over to my dressing room door. Gripping the doorknob on my hand, I gesture my other hand through the door frame.

"Now, if you lovely ladies would be so kind, I have to get changed," I tell them.

Lys sticks her tongue out at me playfully as Christy gathers her makeup supplies, and they both file out of the room. I strip off the robe I had been wearing, leaving me in just my bra and underwear underneath.

Making my way over to the hanger on the rack, I pull off the fishnets that were hanging through the middle of it and pull them onto my legs with a pair of black cheeky shorts over them - just in case my dress flies up for any reason on stage. I slip on my dress after that, thankful that the zipper was on the side so I could actually manage this myself.

It wasn't that I didn't want the help, but I just needed some silence before going out on that stage. Things never end well for me if it tends to get too loud, and I had a fear of that happening if I didn't give myself some alone time tonight.

After I sit down on the couch, I pull on the shoes that have multiple buckles that go up my legs - which stop right underneath my knees. I shove my hands into my half pleather gloves, clenching and unclenching my fingers to get a good feel of how much mobility I had in them. I stand up and walk over to the full length mirror in my room - giving myself a good once over.

I slip my eyes shut after a moment, rolling my head from side to side on my shoulders while shaking out my arms a bit.

Beginning to pace around my room, I start my vocal exercises - tapping my fingers slightly to the beat that I was pacing myself at. My eyes meet the clock on the wall, and I know that it's time.

I make my way over the door, and I open it before making my way towards the stage.

"Oh! I was just coming to get you," Lys says cheerfully as she begins to walk beside me, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. "I'm so proud of you, Marlowe, you have no idea."

We make our way to the steps that lead to where I'm needed next, and she stops us. I look down at her, and I can see tears glazing over her eyes.

"I mean that," she says, speaking over the cheers that are flooding through from the crowd. "I know how much it took for you to get here to be able to play this show, and I hope you're just as proud of yourself as I am of you. You're remarkable, and now you get to show the city where you came from just how remarkable you are as well."

Pursing my lips to the side, I do my best not to cry as I quickly wrap my arms around Lys, pulling her in for a hug. "Fuck you for almost making me cry before I go out there," I joke with a laugh, and I hear her give one back to me as her hands run up and down my back.

We pull away after a moment, and she begins to wipe under her eyes.

"Go, go! I'll be right off to the side if you need me, but I know you won't. You're going to be so wonderful."

Smiling, I give her a nod before making my way to the steps, encasing one of the rails in my hand. I watch as my band enters in from the steps on the other side of the stage, and they take their positions. They begin to play my intro song, and I nod my head to beat to try and get myself into the zone.

On stage, I'm more than just Marlowe Finch. On stage, I'm Marlowe Finch, the singer.

Once a certain beat hits, I race up the steps and onto the stage, the volume from the crowd increasing entirely as I walk the front of the surface. This was a smaller venue, so it was easy for the sound to fill the place, but I was honestly surprised at just how many people were here. I could tell there were people lined up from wall to wall, and the crowd extended all the way into the back towards the front door.

I can feel the large smile taking over my features as I make my way back into the middle of the stage towards my mic stand.

"LA, how are we feeling?" I call out, and the crowd begins to go wild again after just starting to calm down. "Well, you beautiful fucking people, I hope you came here to have a good time because that's what I intend on giving you. Did you guys come here to have a good time?"

I can hear the crowd yell back 'yeah' to me, and I laugh outside of the microphone before letting it meet my lips again. "I said, did you guys come here to have a good time?"

They yell back again even louder than before, and I nod. "Well let's start this damn party, shall we?"

●・○・●・○・●

My chest heaves as I finish my second to the last song. I turn to face my band, sending them all a huge smile, and they're sending me one right back. I turn back to the crowd, and I can feel a lump growing in my throat.

"You guys have been so incredible. I can't thank you enough," I tell them genuinely as I rest my hand against my chest. "I haven't played a hometown show in my time as an artist for various reasons, but I've finally found the strength within myself to do it, and you guys have given me a show even greater than I ever hoped. So thank you, to each and every one of you for making this night so special."

"I'm going to be taking a bit of a break to work on my first full album - not just an EP. Can you all believe that?" I ask, and the crowd cheers. "And it wouldn't be possible without all of you, truly. For this last song I'm going to sing, it's the only completed song I have so far for the new album. It's extremely personal to me, and I didn't know if I was going to play it tonight, but you guys have been so great to me. This is my gift to you. Thank you guys again."

Once more I turn to my band, and my guitarist, Garrett, lifts his eyebrows at me. I know that they all have to be surprised that I'm choosing to sing this song, but it feels right tonight. I give him a nod, and he begins to strum the chords for the introduction of the song.

After a while, the drums start as well, and I close my eyes tight as I keep my back to the audience. I listen to the music surrounding me and I tell myself that this is the moment for me to finally sing this - the most personal song I've written so far. I can hear that it's almost time for me to start singing, and I turn back to the crowd as I cup the microphone on the stand in both of my hands.

"Down to you. You're pushin' and pullin' me down to you, But I don't know what I-"

The song immediately goes into the chorus, and I find myself shutting my eyes again - shying away from the crowd for the first time tonight.

"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought. Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought of you."

I hesitantly open my eyes, and I can see the crowd nodding their heads and swaying to the sound of the beat. That gives me a little more reassurance, and I feel a small smile twitch onto my lips as I watch them.

"Of you - you're pushin' and pullin' me down to you. But I don't know what I want. No, I don't know what I want."

Taking the microphone off the stand, I walk towards the front of the crowd and lean down, making eye contact with a few people as I sing the next verse.

"You got it, you got it - some kind of magic. Hypnotic, hypnotic - you're leaving me breathless I hate this. I hate this. You're not the one I believe in - with God as my witness."

The band leads me into the next chorus which then fades into the slower bridge, and I stop in the middle of the stage. I extend one of my hands over my head as I feel the music, and I begin to snake my body around while I sing out the next words.

"Don't know what I want, but I know it's not you. Keep pushin' and pullin' me down - when I know, in my heart, it's not you."

The song remains slower until the band kicks in heavy once again for the last chorus, and I quickly grab the microphone out of the middle of the stage, tossing it to the side, as myself, Garrett, and my bassist, Alice, begin to head bang.

"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought. Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that-"

I slam down onto my knees on the stage, my dress long enough to cover me as it sit back slightly on my heels, and I press the palm of my hand not holding the microphone down onto the stage between my thighs as I belt out the last few lines of the song.

"I should've never thought of you. I knew. I know, in my heart, it's not you. I knew. But now, I know what I want, I want, I want. Oh, no, I should've never thought!"

Sucking in air to catch my breath, I keep myself in the position for a while. I didn't even realize that I had tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes now burning from the sensation as my bottom lip trembles. I know my hair is covering me from the audience so they're not able to see how emotional I've become.

In order to distract the crowd a bit, the band begins to play the beginning of the song again, and I know they're doing it to stall - to help me recuperate, and give a proper end to my set.

Only a few more seconds go by before I push myself off the ground, and I lift my other hand to move my curls out of my face as I hold the microphone to my lips.

"You've been truly magical, LA," I compliment them, and I know that my tears are gone from my cheeks. I just hope that it hasn't been obvious that I've been crying. "Hopefully I'll be seeing you again really soon. Thank you again, get home safely, and have a good night!"

I begin to blow kisses to them and wave as I start towards the steps I had entered on, and I quickly feel an arm wrap around mine.

"Believe me when I say that was your best performance yet!" Lys squeals, leaning over to press her lips against my cheek, her hold tightening on my right arm as she does so. "I can't believe you played the song. They loved it, Marlowe."

Lys has set it up for me to sign a few things against a side barricade before heading back tonight, and I was more than okay with that. They start leading me towards backstage again, and the way the stage was set up, I have to walk a bit onto the main floor before entering the backstage door. There's a railing blocking me from everyone, and I move a bit closer to Lys as fans start screaming my name - extending copies of my EP for me to sign.

My eyes widen, and I stop to greet them. I sign the items and give them back, all while thanking each person for coming tonight, and for supporting me. Once I reach the end of the line, the main floor is practically cleared out, and we start towards the door.

"Marlowe," I hear my name, and I feel a hand brush against the top of my left arm.

I immediately flinch away and look over at the individual as the security behind us begins to block me from them. Looking away, I start towards the door again before I freeze - realizing the set of ivy colored eyes my blue ones had just been met with.

"Honey, come on," I know Lys is speaking to me, but her voice sounds far away as I turn to look at the person who is calling my name once again.

All the air gets pushed from my lungs when I see who it is, and my knees just about give out on me. He's dressed in a pair of tight black jeans with a pastel floral button-up. The top few buttons are undone to reveal the swallows I knew so well in addition to the antennas of the butterfly that adorns the top of his stomach.

"Harry," I breathe, and he gives me a nod.

It's then that I realize his hair is longer - much longer than the last time I've seen him. He lifts a hand to run through the front of it, pushing it out of his face, but he never averts his gaze from mine.

"No fucking way," I hear Lys whisper behind me, and she quickly gives my arm another squeeze. "Let's go, Marlowe. I'll have security see him out."

Shaking my head, I pull my arm away from her, and now I'm completely turning to face him.

"What do you want?" I ask him - my tone coming out more aggressive than I thought, and I've even surprised myself with that.

"Can we talk?"

Every fiber of my being tells me that I should tell him no. That I should just send him away, and that I don't owe him a thing for the years of turmoil he's put me through. But now that he's here in front of me, and I know he hasn't actually forgotten who I am, I want nothing more than to hear his voice for more than just a few seconds.

"You want to talk?" My eyebrows narrow, and I can feel one of my hands clenching into a fist by my side.

"That's what I asked, isn't it?"

"Alright, that's enough," Lys' voice cuts in, and I feel her wrap her arm around my chest as she starts to steer me towards the backstage area again. "Come on, let's get you changed and home."

"No," I tell her, and we stop again as I tilt my head towards the door - eyes still on Harry. "If you wanna talk, let's talk."

Harry peers at the security guard that just slightly towers over him as he makes his way around the barricade that was completely separating him from us. I swallow harshly as we start towards my dressing room, and Lys opens the door - following me inside.

"Marlowe, I don't know if this is such a good-"

"Look, Lys, I appreciate it, I do, and I understand why you would be hesitant to let me do this, but with the progress I've made - I feel like I need to," I explain, and I watch her nibble on the inside of her cheek before looking over her shoulder at Harry who was now also entering the room. "I have my phone on me, okay? If I need you, I'll call."

"Okay," she sighs, shaking her head in defeat when she knows that I'm going through with this. "Do you want me to leave one of the security guys outside of the door?"

I can't help but smirk softly at her proposition. "I'm okay, but thank you for offering."

Nodding, she starts out of the room, but she stops and looks at Harry. "I swear to god, if I get a phone call from her in the next five minutes and she's crying, I'll find out where you live, and I'll make sure that-"

"Lys!" I say, and she quickly makes eye contact with me as I raise my eyebrows.

"Right, sorry," she mumbles before heading out of the room.

Silence takes over, and I keep my eyes off of Harry as I walk over to my vanity. I grab the ashtray off the surface, as well as my pack of cigarettes, before I head over to the couch - plopping myself down on it. I stick a cigarette between my teeth to hold it stable as I lean down and begin to undo the buckles of my shoes. Once I have them undone, I toss both of them to the side, and I pluck the lighter out of my pack.

I quickly light the cigarette before leaning back into the couch a bit, one leg crossed over the other. In the time that I had taken my shoes off, I didn't notice that Harry had grabbed one of the fold up metal chairs that had been leaning up against the wall. He set it up right across from me, only the coffee table really separating the two of us.

Unfortunately, I find myself in a bit of a trance as I see him fish his own pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his jeans. He flips the lid and brings it up to his mouth, pulling one of the sticks out with his teeth. His eyes flip up to meet mine as he grabs his lighter and sparks it - heart shaped lips immediately closing down around the filter, and I watch the end glow orange.

We both pull the cigarettes from our mouths at the same time, and I tilt my head up to blow the smoke towards the ceiling, but his head remains level with his sight still set on me.

It only takes a few more seconds before we let our eyes journey down each other's bodies, and although I had taken him in out on the main floor, it was like I was doing it for the first time all over again. My head could hardly wrap around the fact that he no longer had some sort of bandana trapped inside his curls, and I could tell with the way his sleeves were rolled up to the creases of his elbows that he had gotten more tattoos over the years.

I'm sure I looked different to him too. My hair was now dark brown, almost black, instead of blonde. My body had truly formed into a woman, causing me to have thicker thighs and a fuller bust. Although my dress covered all of my chest, I knew he could still see the curve to my breasts. He cleared his throat once his eyes made it down to my legs that were still crossed, and he leaned forward to ash his cigarette into the tray.

"So you made it, huh?" He asks, licking over his bottom lip before taking another drag. "You did the whole music thing?"

I scoff slightly, and I can't help but roll my eyes at his statement. "Well, yeah, it was always my dream - my end goal. Just wish that..."

Trailing off, I decide not to finish my sentence as I shake my head. "Doesn't matter," I mumble softly. "What about you? Do you play anymore?

"Well, it would be hard to play considering your parents sold my drumset when they moved out of their home, but even then I wouldn't have wanted it. I still listen to music, but I could never see myself playing again like I did."

Frowning, I ash my own cigarette, leaning forward a bit to rest my wrist on top of my knee - tilting my head to the side. "That's a shame, Harry, you were talented," I tell him honestly, and for the first time I feel my stomach knot up from my nerves. "And my parents assured me that they put the check for the set in your mailbox."

"Oh they did," Harry laughs, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Just another act of charity from them, just like all those years before."

I try to swallow down my anger with his comment, but I can feel my jaw tense. "They never saw you that way, and you know that I never did either. You bought that set with the money you earned from working at the record store. It was yours."

"Yeah, whatever," he shrugs me off with a wave of his hand as he takes an especially long drag.

It grows quiet again, and I finish off my cigarette - putting the butt out in the tray. Leaning back on the couch, I drape my arms across the top of it, and I watch as Harry pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Why are you here, Harry?" I ask, needing him to be straight up with me. I need to know why he chose me coming home to finally acknowledge my existence again.

"Saw your name on the marquee," he said, bringing his hand up to toy with his bottom lip instead, rolling it between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. "Had to make sure that it was you."

"Okay, I guess I'm just a little confused? It's been almost five years. I'm just not understanding how me coming home all of a sudden-"

"What? Do you think there's more to this than me just wanting to confirm that it's you? I'm not here from some type of emotional reunion, Marlowe. Jesus Christ," Harry shakes his head, snuffing his own cigarette out before reaching to grab his pack again.

"Oh, because there's just so many Marlowe Finch's in the world, right?" I ask him, feeling my hands begin to tremble as I drop them down onto the cushions beside me to cup the edge of the couch. "You just had to confirm it was me?"

"I don't know what kind of answer you're looking for here, but whatever it is, you're not getting it from me," Harry laughs darkly, his eyes completely avoiding me now.

Gritting my teeth, I stand from the couch and reach out to snatch his pack of cigarettes from his hand. "You owe me a fucking explanation," I seethe, tears beginning to burn in my eyes from how furious I'm feeling. "Do you understand what you've put me through?"

Harry rolls his eyes and I see a smirk take over his expression as he looks at the wall over my shoulder instead of looking at me. His lips roll, and I can tell that he's slightly sucking his teeth.

"Is something funny?" I lean down to block his view of the wall, and for the first time ever, I see a darkness in his green eyes.

It almost knocks the wind out of me as he's never looked at me with such a gaze, and he sits up from his slightly slouched position in his chair.

"Yeah, there is," he states, standing up, and he takes the pack back from me. "The fact that you think that I owe you anything. Whatever you went through after I told you I didn't want to be friends with you anymore is on you. I should've done it years prior, but you were clinging to me so hard and-"

"Don't you dare fucking finish that sentence," I grit at him, tugging the pleather gloves off my hands as they were growing too clammy for my liking. I toss them onto the couch behind me, and I walk forward so my chest is flush with his. "I was clinging to you? Harry, we only had each other until we found Kailey and Mikey, and then after that you found Sierra. But Sierra didn't really matter either, right? You were sick of her too from what you said. I just don't understand why you completely erased me from your life like you did. I tried to go to your house a month after you left and-"

"You know I never liked you going to my house," Harry's voice lowers, and I feel him buck his chest up against mine a little more. "My mum told me that you stopped by like you did, and that was stupid."

"I didn't have any other choice! You made me feel like I was losing my mind! Fuck - I feel like I'm losing it again right now. Even after five years, you still find a way to mess with my fucking head just by being in my presence for ten minutes," I gasp, moving away from him as my hands tangle into my hair. I begin to pace my dressing room, heart thumping in its cavity.

"I told you I wanted to see if it was you, and that's that. There's nothing more to it, and once I leave here tonight it'll be just like it has been. We won't see each other, we still won't be friends. Eventually you'll forget that you ever saw me again."

Tears wet my cheeks as I look back over to him, and I shake my head. "That's the thing, Harry, I won't. There's hardly been any time that I haven't thought of you over these years, and there's no way that this isn't going to stick just like all the other memories."

Harry steps towards me again, and I look up as his eyes bounce all over my face. "Then wake the fuck up, Marlowe, and learn to properly forget about me."

I open my mouth to speak again, but Harry's already turned around - making his way out of the dressing room. He slams the door behind him, and I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth to keep myself from sobbing out. I don't want anyone to hear me like this. I don't know if Lys is still here, but if she is, I know she'll find some way to have Harry's head if she hears me. I'm also really not in the mood to have someone comforting me.

Maybe I really had been fooling myself after all these years, thinking that he was missing me just as much as I was missing him. I couldn't blame him for coming tonight if his true reason was just to confirm that it was me - I'd probably do the same if the situations were reversed.

But what I didn't expect from Harry was the darkness that was surrounding him. That definitely wasn't the same person I knew, and at this point he was truly unrecognizable to me. The moment those green eyes turned into nothing but flourishing ivy I once held so dear - I knew he was never going to come back to me as the same old Harry. He doesn't want to come back at all.

Part of me thinks this is what I needed. I needed to see him as a stranger in order to completely move on from the past, and to actually let him go. But I know that as much as I try to convince myself of that, there is always going to be a small sliver inside that still wishes to hold him close, and to be able to call him my friend.

My therapist told me that your mind and your emotions work closely together in the most mysterious ways, and even though you may not even notice, they fight each other for dominance more than you think. I was told that my emotions usually end up winning, and that's what can cause me to go days without leaving my bed, or what can have me shutting myself away in the studio for weeks on end. She provided me with proper exercises to try and help clear things up when these struggles start to happen, and I know that when I get home tonight I'm going to have to dive into several of them to help overcome the way I'm currently feeling.

Once I collect myself, I slip out of my dress and accessories before pulling on a pair of leggings and some Doc Martens with an oversized black hoodie. I gathered everything that was mine in the dressing room, and walked out to my car, piling it all into the trunk. I've been in LA for a few days now, and yesterday I went ahead and purchased a car since I knew I was going to be here for several months at the very least.

I slide into the driver's seat, and I grasp the wheel as I start towards my new home.

During the car ride, it's like I've resorted back to those days right after Harry left. I don't play any music as I drive, and I feel like I'm just going through the motions until I can curl up under the covers of my bed and try to block out the thoughts bouncing back and forth in my mind.

If my mind was making one thing extremely clear though, it was that LA was going to be even more different than I thought when I left those years ago, and I'm not entirely sure if i'm prepared for that.

36 notes · View notes

come-away-with-me87 · 1 month

Text

It Takes Two Chapter 4

Chapter 3 here

Shouta looked at you for a moment and said, "Midnight's right, Miss- Y/N. I think we can be on a first name basis." And with that, he was out the door in a flash. That was the first time you ever heard him call you by your first name. You couldn't help but blush once again for some unexpected reason. Since Toshinori wasn't drinking, he took his leave next. "Awww, why is everyone leaving? The night is still so young!" Hizashi exclaimed. Toshinori just shook his head and laughed, saying goodnight to everyone.

Finally, it was just you, Hizashi and Nemuri left at the table. Nemuri and Hizashi looked at each other, and Nemuri then looked at you and finally said, "you know, Y/N, I'm just going to say it. Tonight was supposed to be a setup. For you and Shouta. That's why we didn't tell either of you that the other was going to be here." You gawked at her, completely dumbfounded. You then looked at Hizashi, "you knew about this, too?" Hizashi just looked at you and nodded his head. You said, "why in the world would you try to set me up with Mr. Aiza- Shouta?" The man does not like me, he barely speaks to me." Nemuri and Hizashi just looked at each other. Hizashi spoke up, "I already told you, Y/N, you would know if Eraser didn't actually like you." You didn't know what else to say.

After several awkward minutes, you finally said, "guys, I appreciate what you were trying to do. But it's just not like that with me and Shouta. He's my boss. Sure, I wish we were better friends, but again, it's just not like that." Nemuri and Hizashi looked at each other again, and both of them just shrugged their shoulders. "Fine, Y/N, if that's how you feel. Now, why don't you tell me about this Kenzo guy? He's a complete smokeshow," Nemuri said. Hizashi then spoke up, "yeah, I'm man enough to say when another man is good-looking. And THAT dude was good-looking." You just laughed at the two of them. "Nothing else happened that I haven't already told you. But yes, I'm in complete agreement with both of you with how handsome he is."

And just like that, the conversation started flowing easily again between the three of you, like nothing out of the ordinary happened that night. It was around 11:30pm when you found yourself yawning, though, and told Hizashi and Nemuri you were going to take your leave. "Thanks for coming out tonight, Y/N. It was fun," Nemuri said as she gave you a hug. "Night, guys, I'll see you guys on Monday," you said to both of them with a wave as you walked out the door. You got into your car and took a deep breath. Well, what a night that was. You turned your key in the ignition, and made your way home.

Once you arrived home, you changed out of your clothes into a comfy set of pajamas, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and sat down on your couch with Ariel. You couldn't help but think about the events of that night. From being asked out on a date by Kenzo, to finding out tonight was supposed to be a setup for you and Shouta. That was absurd! Shouta definitely didn't see you in that light. Nothing would have come out of that setup. You found yourself yawning again. "Come on Ariel, let's go to bed." She followed you into your bedroom, where you laid down on your comfy bed and pillows. You eventually drifted off into a deep sleep, dreaming of going on a date with an ebony-haired, scruffy, tired-looking man.

******

To be continued...

32 notes · View notes

blueraineshadows · 8 months

Text

Brothers Part Ten

Garreth Weasley 🔺️F!MC 🔺️ Oscar Weasley

A love rivalry between two Weasley brothers. Oscar is an OC created by @eternalremorse and used with her permission.

NSFW 🔞

Chapter Master List / Ao3 Link

Chapter Ten - Being Honest With Yourself

Huddled in a thick robe, woolly hat and scarf, MC shivered and clasped her gloved hands as she sat in the Hufflepuff stands of the Quidditch stadium. The game was fast-paced and energetic, the teams all pink cheeked from the November chill as Gryffindor faced Hufflepuff.

Poppy was seated beside her, wrapped up snug in Sebastian's Slytherin scarf, her little nose peeking over the top of it, the tip all pink from the cold. She was cheering on their house, of course, and MC was conflicted. Her house needed the points badly. However, Oscar played for the opposition. Of course, she was here for him, but it had not gone unnoticed that she had not worn his Gryffindor scarf today, choosing a chunky knit one instead. When he had pointed it out, his handsome face falling in disappointment, she had claimed it was for house loyalty reasons. The truth was a little different. She was trying to blend in. Hiding was the better word for it.

Ever since Oscar had been signed for the Montrose Magpies, he had become even more popular. His photograph in the sports section of the Daily Prophet had earned him a legion of new fans outside of the school grounds, and students were approaching him for autographs and wanting to chat with him.

This was all very lovely, and Oscar was thrilled. However, MC was not enamoured as much. Being noticed in his company had started the chatter about her known deeds in 5th year again, and this was not something she was comfortable with. She was not a hero. People calling her such merely grated on her already tense nerves, and she wanted no part of that fame. It stirred up memories she would rather forget, called forward the bad dreams that plagued her sleep, and added to the ever-present anxiousness that made her chest tight.

The other side effect of Oscar's popularity was the increase in admirers of the female variety. There was new graffiti on the desks and in the girls bathrooms. MC was forced to read the declarations of affection for Oscar on a daily basis, and come face to face with simpering girls who asked dreamily for his autograph.

The charming gentleman that Oscar was, he spoke to each and every one, signing his name and bestowing that handsome smile upon them. MC could only stand by and watch, feeling invisible and completely out of her depth.

As Oscar swooped through the sky above the Hogwarts pitch, she knew he had a bright future ahead of him, and how could she begrudge him that. She didn't. But the extras that came with it were beginning to grind her down.

Perhaps the excited, hushed chatter going on behind her right now was adding to her anxiety. It certainly aided in her resentment of his new found fame. Two Hufflepuff girls, fifth years she suspected, were giggling and admiring Oscar.

"Just look at him," one sighed dreamily. "I wish I had the courage to approach him, by all accounts he is so very lovely."

"Yes, I heard he smiles and winks at the girls," the other said. "I want my newspaper cut out signed so I can put it beside my bed."

The first girl giggled. "Imagine having the real thing beside your bed, or better yet, in your bed."

"If only, what I would give for one kiss. Too bad he is with the Hero of Hogwarts. Lucky bitch."

They both giggled again and MC felt her stomach churn and the delicate flutters of panic tightened her chest. Was this how it would be from now on? Would she always be hated for being with him? Would she always be in fear that he would be tempted by so many offers of company?

The worry was exhausting. It was draining what strength she had left after hiding from her own guilt. Her guilt of how much Garreth invaded her thoughts.

Pushing Garreth from her mind, she swallowed hard against nausea. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't face sitting here listening to the girls drool over Oscar like that. As she considered the idea of feigning illness and making her escape, a roar of noise exploded from the Gryffindor stands. MC glanced across the pitch and put her hands to her mouth.

The game was over. Jamie Ambrose, the blonde Gryffindor Seeker, was hovering in the air, his arm raised with the Golden Snitch fluttering in his hand. His team mates rushed to congratulate him, circling him on their brooms, all grinning and pumping their fists.

The groans of disappointment from the Hufflepuff students sounded around her, but she ignored them, her eyes on Oscar as he turned to search her out in the crowd, blowing her a kiss that she held out her hand for and pretended to catch. It was these moments that kept her hanging on, the moments when Oscar's charm and attention swept her off her feet, time and again. She could never resist it.

She heard gasps behind her. "Merlin’s beard. Did you see that? Oscar Weasley is blowing kisses to us!"

Her smile faltered, and she dropped her hand. It was like ice being thrown at the back of her neck. She allowed the fantasy to play out in her head, spinning around and pulling off her woolly hat so that these girls could see who she was. She could stamp her foot and yell at them, point her wand and tell them to close their silly, simpering mouths. He was hers! Oscar Weasley was hers!

It was fantasy. A foolish whimsy that she had no intention of even attempting to do. Childish and petty behaviour was not becoming, and she almost blushed in shame. Is this what she had been reduced to?

What if her relationship with Oscar was based on such fancy? Maybe she was playing a fool's game being with him? Old insecurities were morphing into new ones, but they all had the same theme.

There wouldn't be a happy ending. People always left and she always ended up alone somehow, it had been the same all her life.

Offering Poppy a quick goodbye, MC pushed her way through the throng of students and made her way down to the ground. The temptation to sneak away, make a quick exit, and just disappear back into the castle was so tempting. But her feet led her to the pitch and Oscar's waiting arms.

The team was being swamped with cheering students, girls giggling and waving, hoping for a smile or even a hug from the boys. There was only one girl on the Gryffindor team, and she was sensibly keeping away from it all. The Captain, Isaac Cooper, was lapping up the attention, his arm around a very pretty Ravenclaw who was looking rather pleased to be squished against him.

As she searched the crowd, her eyes met with the dark, sly gaze of Trixie. She looked beautiful, of course, her smirk aimed at MC as she lifted a knowing eyebrow. Trixie's threat to tell Oscar that there was something more between Garreth and herself made MC clench her hands into fists. The weight of it pressed down over her head, and she tore her gaze away from the cunning Slytherin girl. She shouldn't let Trixie get to her.

MC stood on tiptoe, a glint of red hair coming in to view as Oscar pressed through the excited cheering and spotted her, hurrying forward with his broom still in his hand. He laughed and wrapped his arm about her waist, holding her close and lifting her easily, his blue eyes sparkling with delight.

"Do I get a celebratory kiss from my girl?"

The sound of cooing and awe inspired sighs came from behind her at his words. Could they not get a moment of privacy? Apparently not. What could she do but oblige? She bent to press her mouth to his, their lips meeting in a warm touch, and a flash of light exploded beside them.

They broke the kiss, turning in surprise to see a Daily Prophet reporter and photographer beaming at them, a huge wizarding world camera still smoking from taking the image.

"That is going to make the front page of the sporting section," the reporter said, a smug smile on his face. His eyes gleamed as he swept his hand across the air. "Quidditch rising star and the Hero of Hogwarts in love! Utter perfection!"

"No!" MC said, shaking her head. Her fingers bit into Oscar's shoulders. "Don't put that in the paper, please."

"Oh, come now. Don't be shy! The readers will love it," he said.

MC struggled out of Oscar's grip and he let her down, a worried frown on his face. "What is it?"

She looked at him, irritated. "This doesn't bother you? They took a picture of us kissing!"

He almost shrugged, confusion mixing in with his unconcerned look as he turned his gaze from the reporter and back to her. "It's just a photo, MC. It won't hurt anyone."

"It won't hurt you," she muttered.

His brow creased and he reached for her again but she stepped back. Did he really not see the invasion of privacy this was? It was bad enough that the other students bore witness to their displays of affection, something that she had always struggled with, but this? The whole Wizarding World who cared to peruse the sports pages would see them kissing. Her cheeks burned and she felt tears sting her eyes. It bothered her, and she wasn't entirely sure why, she just hated the thought of it being on show.

She needed to get away and be alone. She needed to escape. The panic was sinking its teeth into her chest, gnawing and clawing and she felt her lungs burn as she tried to breathe through it.

"I... I need to go," she said, eyes darting for an escape route. "Enjoy this time with your team mates..."

Oh, she hated the flash of disappointment in his lovely eyes as she backed up and brushed him off. How many times did she do this to him? As much as she hated the thought of losing him to another's arms, she was doing a good job of pushing him away.

She turned, unable to meet his gaze any longer and began to push through the crowd. Almost free, the lawn in sight and beyond that, the castle. Sanctuary. A hand grabbed her arm and she spun, Oscar right there, eyes pleading. He had followed her.

"Please don't go. Why are you running away? It was just a photo. Do you hate being seen with me that much?"

His words made her wince, her heart aching as she tried to find the words to explain it.

"It's not so much you, it's what being in the spotlight does to me," she said.

He frowned. "I know you're shy, MC. But, it's just a photo. Is it really so bad to be seen with me? What happens when I start playing for the Magpies? Will you avoid me then too?"

She stared at him, at a loss for what to say. She was too scared to think that far ahead, the future outside of Hogwarts looming up before her, uncertain and honestly, daunting.

"It's the hero stuff. I hate it when they call me that. Being seen with you drags it all up again."

The honesty of the words lay heavy on her tongue. His gaze softened and he urged her closer, tugging gently on her arm as he cupped her face.

"You were a hero though. All that you did for the school and the fight against dark wizards... MC, you're so strong, so amazing..."

"No!" She pulled out of his touch, the panic squeezing as she remembered all the pain, the death... the loss. Her voice shook with emotion, the anguish that she had tried to keep buried. "I'm not amazing, neither am I a hero... what happened last year... you don't understand."

She couldn't speak of it, her throat closing against the horrible truth. Garreth's horrified face flashed up behind her eyes, his reaction to her ability to steal life had been like a cruel twist of a knife in her heart. To see that in Oscar's eyes, to lose the warm way he looked at her...

She stared at him and saw the way his face tightened, his jaw clenching.

"No, I don't understand," he said flatly. He withdrew from her, arms falling to his sides. "How can I when you won't talk to me? I've tried so hard to get you to open up, to tell me more, but you throw a cold wall up in my face every time I do."

She flinched. The truth of his words were like chunks of ice in her stomach. She did shut him out, she knew she did.

"I can't help it," she said softly, tears threatening.

He huffed a cold, unamused attempt at a laugh. "Oh, I think you can, MC. I'm sure Sallow knows everything there is to know about what goes on in that beautiful head of yours," he said bitterly.

"That's different. He was there..."

"And I'm here now," he snapped, cutting her off. His eyes flashed with something, a passion that looked suspiciously like anger and she clamped her mouth shut, staring up at him. "I'm right here, waiting for you to open up and show me who you really are. I want to know, MC. But somehow, it just feels like we kiss a whole lot, but that's all. Even my brother knows you better than I do."

He looked away then, his fists clenching and his jaw working as he fought against his temper. Her chest constricted with a flutter of fear. Oh Merlin, did he know? Cold horror swept through her. Did he suspect she harboured a softness for Garreth? Had Trixie told him what she saw?

"What... what do you mean?" She asked carefully.

He lifted his gaze, eyes blazing. "I hate that you can be yourself around the likes of Sallow and my brother, and yet you hold back from me. You can trust me, MC."

"Can I?"

The question slipped from her lips before she could stop them, her eyes widening in shock at herself. His eyes widened too, and she could see the hurt in them. Her tears escaped, leaking from her eyes to trace the curve of her cheeks.

"Im sorry," she whispered.

She was no hero. Heroes didn't run. And she ran. She turned her back on the pain flashing on his face and let her feet take her far away from it.

....

The changing rooms were always a hive of chatter and excitement after winning a match. Oscar tried to join in with the celebrations, but behind his smile he was hiding the hurt that stung a lot more than he had expected. He didn't usually get in too deep with girls, but MC had him caught up in something that was new and surprising. This time he had feelings, real ones, and he was trying to get a grasp on himself at the sting of her departure.

She really didn't trust him, her simple query confirming his suspicion that she was deliberately holding back from him. It hurt. It cut him deeper than he liked. His chest ached with the knowledge that she wasn't prepared to open up to him, which meant that for a girl like her, she wasn't going to warm his bed as he had hoped. All the time she didn't trust him, that was never going to happen. With that ache of disappointment came a fear. For the first time in his life, he was scared he was about to lose a girl.

Fuck. He was in deep, deeper than he had realised. He didn't want to lose her. What frightened him most of all was the unfamiliar feeling that he suspected was love.

Did he love her? And was he about to lose her?

These were the questions that tormented him as he prepared to shower and change, braving a smile and laughing along with the others as though he had his life all in order, whilst inside he realised he was clueless about how to handle this.

Hair still damp from the shower, he put the last of his gear away and grabbed his robe.

"Everything alright, Weasley? You don't seem yourself."

Isaac came to stand beside him, leaning his shoulder against the lockers with his arms folded, his dark hair also damp from the showers. Oscar let his gaze travel over his best friend, the confidence and strength that oozed from him suddenly something to envy. Oscar wasn't feeling so confident right now, and it irked him. As a pair, they were formidable, the envy of the other teams and it felt good to be the boys on top. This uncertainty was pulling him down, making him question himself. Was he a bad person? He always tried to be decent, well mannered, and he knew he could charm a young lady. But, delving into the realms of love and relationships was new territory for him. Perhaps he wasn't so good at it.

He sighed and shook his head. "Girl trouble."

Isaac smirked. "Since when has that ever been a problem for you before? Is it your little Hufflepuff? I thought you and her were getting on rather well."

Oscar closed his locker and picked up his bag. "So did I, but since things have got hectic with Quidditch stuff she has been pulling away a bit. We, er... we had a fight after the match. She doesn't like all this new attention."

"So, she is jealous?"

Oscar frowned. "I'm not convinced it's jealousy. It's something more than that."

"This is why I just fuck girls and don't let feelings get in the way. I know where I am with a roll in the sheets," Isaac said, shaking his head. "When you start adding deeper stuff into the mix, it gets complicated. I mean, what will happen when you leave school and start touring? Is she going to wait for you?"

Oscar felt his stomach sink even lower. He met Isaac's piercing blue eyes. "I doubt it."

Isaac's face twisted with a knowing but sympathetic look. He put his hand on Oscar's shoulder. "Maybe you need to cut her loose, Os, before one of you gets hurt."

Oscar hung his head. Normally, cutting a girl loose was nothing. Easy. But with MC, the very thought of it made him want to shut everything down. He didn't want to cut her loose. She felt too good in his arms. And if he did, what then?

He had the sneaking fear that if she was set free, his brother would catch her with open, waiting arms.

"You make it sound so easy," he grumbled.

Isaac stared at him a moment. "Bloody hell, Weasley. This isn't just a fling is it? You really like her."

"She isn't like all the other girls, Issac. It's different with her."

"Have you bedded her yet?"

Oscar shook his head. "We have fooled around a bit, but no, nothing as lovely as that yet."

Isaac nodded thoughtfully. "Is she a virgin? I'm surprised Sallow didn't dip his wick in there."

Oscar frowned. "Yes, she is, and do you mind? I'd rather not have that image in my head, thanks."

Isaac chuckled and gave him a light shove. "Fuck, you have got it bad, Weasley."

Isaac grew thoughtful as they headed towards the exit. "All joking aside, I'm sorry it's not working out how you thought. In all seriousness, if you think it's not going to work out with her, then maybe splitting would be best. I mean, if she is that innocent, then don't take it from her and hurt her afterwards. I know I mess girls around sometimes, but I'm always upfront about it. If feelings are getting caught up, then you need to tread carefully. For both of your sakes."

It was actually reasonable advice as much as Oscar hated to hear it. The thought of breaking it off with her was almost impossible to imagine. How would he find the words when he didn't have them? He would rather find the words to keep her at his side than lose her. Covering his discomfort, he eyed his friend with a playful look.

"Since when did you get so wise about relationships, Cooper?"

Isaac grinned and shrugged. "I'm not just a pretty face."

....*....

Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Garreth took a drink of water and caught his breath, allowing the cool breeze drifting in through the great doorway to cool his flushed skin. Sebastian had hardly broken a sweat, his demeanour one of relaxed confidence as he joined Garreth on the stone steps that ran the length of the clock tower entrance hall.

"You're getting better at this, you know," Sebastian said. He twirled his wand and gave Garreth a grin. "Where do you suppose you will be putting these new duelling skills to good use? Should we expect you to sign up for Crossed Wands any time soon?"

Garreth huffed a laugh and shook his head. While he was enjoying these duelling practise sessions with Sebastian, he quite liked the fact that it was between the two of them and nobody else. He wasn't learning to join clubs and show off with it. The threat of being caught out by poachers again was the driving force behind these lessons. That, and wanting to be able to protect MC, which was daft considering how powerful she could be. It felt important to him, though.

"Unlikely, I'm not going to sign myself up for a guaranteed loss in Crossed Wands. I will stick with potions," he said. He chewed thoughtfully at his lip. "I just wanted to know how to defend myself properly, especially if I was going to be around MC a lot more. However, I have hardly seen her lately. I get the feeling she is avoiding me. I pushed a bit too much in Hogsmeade I reckon."

Sebastian gave a little sigh and shook his head. "It's not just you she is avoiding, it's everyone. Don't worry, she will come around."

"I hope so. I miss her," he said, brooding a little. He wished he had Sebastian's confidence. Potions was the only time he could really be close to her, and even then she was hesitant around him, the closeness they gained seemingly shifting backwards to the shyness that had been there when she first came to the school. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him, and there was something soft in her gaze, but she lowered her eyes and pulled back. It left him with a longing that stayed with him for the rest of the day.

"And as for the Crossed Wands thing, give it a try," Sebastian said, nudging him with his elbow. His grin was sly, mischievous. "It's just a bit of fun, and as for a guaranteed loss, that doesn't stop Prewett from having a go. Don't tell him I said this, but he has got better. It's the practise. It keeps you on your game."

Garreth gave him a considering look. "A bit like with girls then, I suppose."

Sebastian's grin widened. "Absolutely. Don't give up on MC. Hang in there, and stay away from McNair."

Garreth shuddered. "Oh, I intend to stay away from that one. Her eyes see too much."

"What does that mean?" Sebastian asked, brow dipping curiously.

Garreth bit his lip. "Well, there was a moment, between MC and I. It was outside the Three Broomsticks, and... well, nothing happened, but Trixie saw us and guessed far too close to the truth. She suspects something and threatened to expose it to Oscar."

Sebastian's face twisted into a grimace and he shook his head. "Yeah, she is a sly one. I would be careful. However, she probably won't do anything unless there is something in it for her."

Gareeth nodded, his stomach twisting up at the thought of getting into a fight with Oscar. He had pushed his luck in Hogsmeade, had sampled a taste of what it would be like to flirt with MC, and her warmth had surrounded him, coaxed that ever present fire he felt for her. As much as he didn't want to let that fire go, Oscar was his brother and he did not want to hurt him.

Trixie could cause so much trouble, and with MC avoiding him, he was rather apprehensive about the whole thing. All in a room together might be rather awkward, and his birthday was fast approaching, a get together planned to celebrate.

"Let's hope Trixie doesn't turn up for my birthday party," he said, getting to his feet. "I'd rather not have any drama if it can be helped."

Sebastian stood too, smirk present. "Don't worry about your birthday, Weasley. It's all in hand."

"Should I be worried?"

"Just don't make any plans for the day after," Sebastian chuckled. "I reckon you might need some recovery time. Especially if we knock up some extra special brews beforehand."

Garreth smirked at the way Sebastian's eyebrows wiggled mischievously. It wasn't everyday a wizard turned seventeen. He would be of age, and that was a perfect excuse for a party.

"As long as MC is there, then I will be happy," he said.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and gave him a playful shove. "You soft git."

They packed up the training dummy and spoke some more about party plans, Sebastian promising to chat to MC about it. Garreth hadn't been joking. He wanted her there, more than anyone else, regardless of anything else. Including Oscar.

....*....

The coolness of the Undercroft was calming and it helped to keep MC's head clear as she studied. The only sound was the scratch of her quill as she made her notes, grateful for the peace away from distractions. She was avoiding people today, mostly in the form of Weasley boys.

Oscar had been trying to catch a moment with her since their disagreement the other day, but she had been side stepping the inevitable. She didn't have the words to sort through the confusing mess inside her head, and Poppy was despairing of her. MC had pushed up against her friend's pleas to speak to Oscar, ignored her advice and sad eyes, burying her nose into her books or her pillow. She felt bad, really she did. Poor Poppy was only trying to help, and being the good friend that she was, she dutifully went to the common room door to turn a pleading Oscar away with some excuse.

MC stubbornly avoided the tangled web of emotions and shifting thoughts. If she examined them too closely, she feared what truth she would uncover.

Guilt. That was a big one. And she was hiding from that too. Hiding from betraying thoughts.

Being around Garreth meant remembering their flirtatious dancing. It meant pondering over what he had been about to say before Trixie had interrupted them. As much as she tried to ignore it, the curiosity lingered and she couldn't help but poke at it. It was very difficult to stay away from Garreth, and this was why she was secreted away in the Undercroft. A safe haven that none of them knew about.

Apart from Sebastian and Ominis, of course.

The gate opened revealing the arrival of one the Slytherin boys, a glance over her shoulder revealing it to be Sebastian. He smiled as he approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder as he plonked himself down on a chair beside her.

"There you are. You've been hiding again," he grinned. "Lover boy was looking for you."

She frowned. "I thought he was at practise this morning."

Sebastian's smile widened, his eyes impish. "I wasn't talking about that one."

MC sighed and rolled her eyes, looking down at her notes as her cheeks warmed. Not this again. As if it wasn't hard enough to keep her mind off Garreth, Sebastian was all over it. "You're not funny, Seb."

"Oh, but I am," he teased. He dropped the latest Daily Prophet in front of her, open at the magical symbol puzzle of the day. "You're slacking, MC. Come on, I miss our little challenge. It's been days since you did one."

She groaned and picked up the paper. "I know, Seb. I'm sorry. I just haven't been in the mood."

His expression grew thoughtful as he gazed at her, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. "I don't like seeing you like this," he said, quietly. "You are not yourself. You are hiding away from your friends down here. I miss you, and I know where you are! Imagine how it feels for them."

She turned to him. "I thought you would be far too busy with Poppy to miss me."

His smile was soft. "I am, but that doesn't mean I don't miss you. You're the one who helps Ominis keep me in line. Poppy isn't so good at that. In fact, I would go so far as to say she is a bad influence on me."

MC huffed a laugh at that. It did sound like Poppy. She reached out to take his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I hope you're not getting into too much trouble now."

He squeezed her hand back. "What if I told you that Garreth and I are working on a new potion idea after the success of the energy drink."

"I would say I am mildly concerned," she replied, her lips twitching with a smile.

He chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Are you going to Garreth's birthday party?"

She dipped her gaze with a flicker of uncertainty. The party was all anyone could talk about lately. Another reason she was hiding away. The last party had ended with Garreth touching her face and telling her she was the prettiest girl in the school. She wasn't sure if she could handle any more moments like those, and yet it was his birthday. She had a gift for him, and had thought to see him earlier on his birthday, in private, and skip the party all together.

It was also a reason to avoid having to watch girls throwing themselves at Oscar. It was exhausting, and she knew she would have to face him sometime, but not yet.

"You have to come, MC," Sebastian said, his hand giving hers another squeeze. "Garreth will be upset if you don't."

Sebastian didn't know every secret in her heart, but she was sure he had figured a lot out for himself. His little jokes about Garreth being her other lover boy had some meaning behind them, and the pair had been hanging about together a lot. If Garreth had said anything, Sebastian hadn't revealed it, but he always had positive things to say about his new Gryffindor friend. His eyes watched carefully as he talked Garreth up, as though gauging her reaction. She tried to be careful, but Sebastian could read her like a book.

He was right, though. How could she miss Garreth's birthday party? She would be sad if it was the other way around.

She nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it. It's not every day a wizard comes of age."

Sebastian brightened and stood. "Excellent. Right, I shall leave you in peace now that I know you are alive and well." He leaned over and tapped the newspaper, his playful eyes on hers. "I want to see your completed puzzle by the end of the day. Don't let me down now."

She gave him a firm salute and he laughed, bending to press a fond kiss to her forehead before strolling towards the exit, whistling a low tune as he went.

Watching him leave, she felt a warmth around her heart, grateful for him. Just those few minutes had lifted her mood and she turned back to her notes with a small smile.

But, the Daily Prophet was folded right there, accusing her, and she reached out to pull the newspaper closer. She had not been doing the daily puzzle, and not because she had been moody or busy. It was just another form of avoidance. Today's paper had no images of Oscar, but the one printed after the Quidditch match had published the photo of her kissing him on the pitch.

Hero of Hogwarts and rising Quidditch star in love. A picture of them kissing and an article written full of half truths about them, gossip gathered from other people after her refusal to be a part of it. Her request to not use the photo had been ignored, and she hated that the whole world had seen it.

Someone had cut out the photo and pinned it to the Hufflepuff common room notice board, charmed it with floating hearts, too. She had wanted to rip it down, but Poppy had stopped her.

All of it. Her emotions, the gossip, the newspaper article, and the heavy burden of the hero status, it all seemed to be pressing down on top of her. At some point she was going to break, and she knew that the only way to start fixing it was to speak to Oscar.

She just had to figure out what it meant in her head, and how she was going to say it.

....*....

That evening, after dinner, MC was on her bed reading when Poppy came in with a beaming smile. She came to sit on MC’s bed and gave her an enquiring look.

"You didn't speak to Oscar today, did you?"

MC bit her lip and shook her head, almost wincing at Poppy’s sigh.

"You really need to speak to him, MC. It can't go on like this. He was looking for you at dinner again."

MC shifted and avoided Poppy’s gaze. She was right. Of course she was. It wasn't easy to hide from someone, despite the size of the castle, there was only so many places you could go.

"I will speak with him. I promise."

Poppy looked worried, her hand reaching out to hold MC's. "Do you not want to be with him anymore?"

MC closed her book with a sigh and shrugged. "I don't know. Surely it shouldn't be this hard to be with someone. You aren't like this over Sebastian. What am I doing wrong?"

"Only you can answer that, MC. It's your choice. If it really doesn't feel right, then you shouldn't let it drag on. It's not fair on either of you. I don't like seeing you this way."

Had Sebastian not said the same thing earlier today? Her friends were talking sense and maybe she should listen. She nodded and gave Poppy’s hand a squeeze.

"This might be bad timing, but I need a favour," Poppy asked. Her cheeks flushed pink and her smile was sheepish. "I need you to cover for me tonight."

"Tonight? Why, what are you doing?"

Poppy bit her lip and took a deep breath. "I'm going to sleep in the Slytherin dorm tonight. With Sebastian."

The silence that followed felt so heavy. MC stared at Poppy in shock. Was this not too soon? MC loved Sebastian, dearly, but he was still a boy. What if it wasn't right and they were rushing in to this? Would Poppy end up discarded and hurt if it failed?

"Are you sure about this?" She asked carefully.

Poppy immediately nodded, her mouth fighting against a smile. "I'm ready, MC. This is what I want. He is just..."

Poppy's eyes drifted into a dreamy gaze as she sighed, her face softening in such a way that MC felt a sudden stab of envy. She fought against it, trying to smile with at least some encouragement for her friend. But all she could think about was her own failure when it came to this kind of intimacy. Should she not be day dreaming about sneaking into Oscar's bed, craving the same intimacy?

All she did was flinch away from it. Clearly, she wasn't as ready as Poppy. Or, she wasn't with the right person. The thought was like a bucket of ice and she felt her lips freeze into what must be an unnatural smile.

"Then I am happy for you," she said, her voice a little strained. "Of course I will cover for you."

Poppy squealed and leant forward to pull her into a hug, her excitement lighting her eyes and deepening her lovely blush. MC's envy felt bitter and slippery as she swallowed it down.

"Thank you, MC. And, of course, I will gladly return the favour one day," she said. She squeezed MC's cold hands, her eyes pleading. "Please, talk to Oscar. I do hope you can fix whatever is wrong."

MC nodded and kept her smile firmly in place. As she watched Poppy prepare for her evening, going to bathe and packing her toothbrush, MC knew that wallowing here was not an option. Her failure was her own. Envy was pointless. It solved nothing.

It was time to talk to Oscar.

....*....

The chess board was before him, but Oscar wasn't really seeing the pieces, his mind was elsewhere and he was getting his arse kicked. He blinked and looked up, Elijah's blue eyes gazing at him with a curious frown, the common room's warm glow highlighting his dark hair.

"You're mind isn't really on the game, is it, Os?" He said. His team mate and fellow Beater looked concerned. "Is everything alright?"

Oscar sighed and leant back in his chair, pushing his fingers through his hair. He shook his head.

"Sorry, Elijah. You're right, my head is somewhere else," he said.

MC was always on his mind, the frustration at not being able to speak to her eating at him. He'd given up asking for her at her common room entrance, not able to take another sheepish apology from Poppy, or whoever else was sent to turn him away. He hadn't been able to catch her between classes with their schedules, and he suspected she had been deliberately avoiding the chance of bumping into him. No sign of her in the library or the Great Hall.

It was obvious she didn't want to see him, and judging by the miserable look on Garreth’s face, he hadn't seen much of her either. At least that was some small comfort he supposed.

He eyed his friend, Elijah, thinking for a moment. Perhaps some friendly conversation would take his mind off things where the chess game was clearly failing. "How are things with you and your young lady, Eli?"

Elijah's eyes clouded with a shadow that he shifted fairly quickly, fluffing his hair as he shrugged. "Not my young lady anymore. We broke up."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Oscar said.

"It was for the best," Elijah said. He bent his head over the board and studied the pieces. "Sometimes things aren't meant to be."

Oscar rubbed his chin and was reminded of his chat with Isaac, the idea of things ending between him and MC still not something he wanted to consider, and yet her refusal to even see him the last few days didn't bode well.

"So, is that you sworn off ladies for the foreseeable, or do you have someone else in mind?" Oscar asked.

"I haven't really thought about it." Elijah's cheeks turned a little pink and he shifted in his seat. Oscar noted the tells and a knowing smirk lifted his lips. The boy had someone in mind, and Oscar had a feeling he knew who it was. "Not even our new Chaser? She's a pretty little thing."

Elijah's blush deepened and Oscar grinned. He knew it. Well, he hoped Elijah had the nerve to make a move. Their new Chaser had been watching Elijah at practise and Oscar had the feeling she would say yes if Elijah asked her out.

To see a friend find some happiness would take some of the edge from his own worries.

"Hey, Oscar!"

He turned at the call of his name to see Leander entering the common room, his arm lifted in a wave.

"Oscar, MC is out in the corridor. She is asking for you," Leander called.

Oscar stilled and then his heart began to race. She was here. Relief buzzed through him as he got up from his chair, muttering a quick goodbye to Elijah, but as he crossed the room that relief turned into nerves.

What if she was here to end it?

He pushed the thought down, he couldn't think like that, and he hurried through the portrait hole and out into the corridor.

MC was standing to one side, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, face pale and drawn as she looked towards him. There were dark shadows under her eyes and she looked sad, for want of a better word. His heart constricted as he moved slowly towards her, arms just aching to scoop her up and hold her, but he feared to push her.

"Hello," he said, eyeing her warily.

Her eyes were soft as she gazed up at him. "Hello, Oscar," she replied. Her lips curved upwards into a tentative smile. "How are you?"

"Missing you," he blurted.

She bit her lip, a subtle darkening of her eyes being swiftly hidden as she blinked, her face wincing slightly. She moved forward, her hand reaching to grip the front of his robes, her forehead pressing into his chest.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Immediately, his arms were around her, crushing her to him in hug so tight he heard her gasp, but he buried his head into her, determined to not let go. The scent of her surrounded him, his nose in her hair and his fingers gripping the back of her robe. It felt so bloody good to hold her again. Even better when he felt her arms wind around him to hold him back.

"Can we talk?" She asked, her voice muffled against his robe.

"Of course," he replied, fighting back the nagging feeling that this was the beginning of the end.

....*....

A storage room served as somewhere private for them to talk, away from prying eyes and ears. As Oscar closed the door behind him, MC turned to look at him. She had plucked up the courage to come and find him after Poppy had left for the Slytherin dormitory, needing to clear the air. She was still unsure how to go about this, her thoughts uncertain and the words she needed to say kept slipping away from her.

It didn't help that whenever she looked at him, at those gorgeous, blue eyes, she just seemed to become speechless, her body taking over and responding to him. Seeing him come out of the entrance to his common room after avoiding him had brought forth a rush of feeling she had not expected. His admission that he missed her had rung true with her own feelings. She realised that she had missed him too. The question was how much in comparison.

"I'm sorry I ran from you after the match," she began, nervously twisting her hands together. "I shouldn't have just run away. I was just... overwhelmed."

"Because of the photo?"

She nodded, finding it hard to meet his gaze. "Yes, in part. The photo was printed despite my request for them not to. It was an invasion of privacy, and it dragged up all the events from last year as I feared it would. I don't see how any of that has much to do with your Quidditch accomplishments."

He moved towards her, concern on his face. "I know I snapped at you over your concerns, and for that I apologise, but it's hard for me to be supportive when you shut me out, MC."

He had a point. "It's hard for me to talk about it. It was... traumatic, and I'm still trying to deal with the consequences."

"Let me help you," he said, reaching for her. She flinched back a little, and he hesitated, eyes sad. "I want to help you. MC, you mean a lot to me... I care about you."

Meeting his eyes, she swallowed hard. Knowing he felt that way made this even harder, trying to explain how distant she felt from him was difficult enough without knowing that she was likely to hurt him.

He sighed, face fighting against disappointment. "You don't believe me, do you?"

She turned and fiddled with her hair, chest tightening with the familiar tight band of panic. Did she? She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. This would all be so much easier if she did.

"I'm struggling with all of this," she admitted. "I don't know the first thing about relationships, this is all new and daunting, and I am feeling my way along. I enjoy your company, Oscar, I do. But its not easy to share it with so many other obstacles."

"Obstacles? Like what?"

She looked at him, biting her lip. "Your reputation proceeds you. It's scratched into desk tops and bathroom stall walls. Girls linger around you waiting for a smile or a word, while I flounder along beside you feeling completely out of my depth."

She cringed and put her hands to her face. The words sounded so pathetic and silly once said aloud, and she wished she could take them back. It was hard to look at him, fearing to see what would be on his face at such a confession. She turned her back to him, leaning against a table near the wall as she tried to fight down the panic clawing at her throat.

"MC, I'm sorry. I really am," Oscar said, lingering behind her. "I had no idea you felt this way."

She kept her back to him, leaning against the table and trying to keep her breathing steady. She knew that if she looked into those eyes she would melt, that he would make her forget about the worries that clung to her thoughts. It was becoming exhausting, draining her gradually, day by day. Trying to keep ahead of her confusing tumble of emotions and doing the right thing was getting harder and harder.

He did sound genuinely sorry. Maybe she was being so hard on him because of her own guilt. The unfairness of it all was like a slinking shadow that lurked in the recesses, waiting to dance with her guilt. She hung her head, shoulders defeated.

"I know you are," she said quietly. "It's not easy though, being your girlfriend, waiting in the wings for another to come and tempt you away..."

"That is not going to happen, MC," he said, his voice much closer now. There was almost a pleading edge to his tone as she felt his presence at her back. "You're the only one I want. Please, trust me."

A soft hitch in her breath made her close her eyes as she felt his hand at her waist, his touch gentle as he moved even closer. Her hair fluttered near her ear, teased by the warmth of his mouth as he whispered so close to her skin.

"I want you, and only you."

A shiver travelled along her spine, rational thought seemingly disintegrating as her head subtly tilted. He took the invitation, lips pressing at her neck, soft and teasing as his hand slid around to splay out across her stomach. She felt the firm press of his body at her back, solid and warm, her softness immediately responding and pushing back against him.

Like always, one look, one touch, and she was as malleable as clay in his hands.

Tiny flutters erupted in her belly, her hands flat against the table top began to grip, her fingers bending upwards as she pressed the tips more firmly into the wood.

"Someone could walk in here at any moment," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

She felt him shift against her and then the softly muttered words of a locking charm, the tell tale click of the lock. Anticipation sung through her veins as his hand slid higher up her midriff, his other hand pocketing his wand before coming to rest against her hip.

"Now, I have you all to myself," he taunted, lips grazing her ear. His palm cupped her breast, thumb seeking out a peak through the layers of her clothing and she bit her lip, breathing fast enough to part her lips. "Let me show you how much you mean to me. The things I want to do to you..."

She gasped. The flutters in her belly seemed to ignite and shoot bolts of flame through her core, images conjured of the things he could do, all inspired by the erotic romance novels that Poppy kept slipping into her hands. Some she had allowed him to do, a few times now his hands had found their way under her blouse, but no further. Anything more made her heart pound with uncertainty.

Much like now, his hand moving from her waist to her behind, caressing the curve before squeezing with such suggestive slowness. All the while, he was pressing her into the table edge, her upper body now leaning forward slightly, her hands bracing her weight. It was thrilling, but still she kept thinking to stop it, the sensations overwhelming and making her breathless.

"Oscar..."

"Let me show you," he said softly. "Just relax."

Her sigh was shaky as it left her mouth, heart thudding madly and her head clouding with the sensations that washed over her body as his hand slid lower over her behind. Slowly, he dipped under, fingers brushing with agonising pressure right across her core. Her mouth fell open at the touch, the almost painful twinge of heat shooting outwards drawing a moan from her throat. The shock of it made her cheeks burn.

"See, I can make you feel good," he whispered, his hand stroking back and forth at a leisurely pace, his mouth seeking the tender skin of her neck as he applied just enough pressure with his fingers to make her ache so deliciously.

She had touched herself before, driven by curiosity and need she had explored and brought herself to a release, but this was something else entirely. To feel him touch her in such a way made her throb with the need for more friction, her hips tilting to angle herself better as he teased her through her clothes.

Her cheeks flushed as her body heated, his hands driving her into a dizzying rush between her legs and at her breast. She moaned again, eyes closing as she balanced on the edge of just letting herself fall, letting him do whatever he wanted with her. Was she ready to surrender herself? Could this be the connection that eased her worry?

His hips pressed forward, grinding against her at an angle so that he could continue to stroke against her heat, a low sound escaping him. She felt the nudge of his arousal, tried to imagine what it would be like to see him naked, to let him press that hardness inside of her. She trembled and looked down. His hand was at her breast, her hips rocking against his touch, the brief appearance of his finger tips as he rubbed upwards towards her core making her gasp.

The intimacy of it, every rub of his fingers sending tingling fire through her body, she had to admit that it felt so good. The sensation was heightened and far more arousing than touching herself. Nobody had ever touched here before, he was the first, and as the fire began to take over she wondered why she had waited so long.

Unbidden, she remembered the secret dream, of how she had awoken flushed and trembling, her core throbbing from forbidden touches. In the hazy world of dreams it had been Garreth who had touched her this way, Garreth's hands had reduced her to that mess. Not Oscar.

MC froze. Her cheeks reddened even further with shame. How could she think such a thing when Oscar had his hands on her like this?

"Stop," she croaked, shifting her hips, and pulling away. He immediately retrieved his hand and stilled.

"What is it?"

She couldn’t look at him for fear of revealing the guilty shame that surely shone on her face. The haze of lust faded and reality crushed her. She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks and extracted herself from between him and the table. She needed to put space between them.

"I... I'm sorry," she mumbled, eyes darting away. What to say? What reason could she give? Certainly not the truth. "It was too much."

She heard his sigh and glanced towards him, the frustration and disappointment creasing his brow making her cringe before he quickly hid it, brushing his hand through his hair. "It's fine," he said, a muscle working in his jaw. "I've always said that we would only do what you're comfortable with."

MC was beginning to wonder if that would ever happen, the realisation that it might not slammed into her, and she took another step back, her hand pressing to her chest. Panic tightened it, stole her breath, and her eyes flew to the door.

No. She couldn't run again. She had to stop running from the truth. She had to face it.

All the time she had feelings for someone else, this was never going to work. All the worry about someone else tempting Oscar away from her was pointless when she was lured away herself. Her guilty conscience was making up excuses, and she was ashamed of herself.

Hero indeed.

"I can't do this," she whispered.

"What does that mean?" He asked, a flash of fear in his eyes.

Her own eyes burned with tears. This hurt. She hated it. But like a dressing on a wound, she had to tear it free. There would be no healing if she didn't.

"Us. I can't... " She shook her head, the first tear slipping free. "I'm sorry, Oscar. I think we should part ways. I'm not cut out for this, you deserve to be with someone who can make you happy."

"You make me happy!" There was a desperate edge to his voice. "Please, don't do this. I've never felt this way about a girl before. I'll do whatever it takes..."

"No," she said, cutting him off. "You have a whole new life waiting for you when you leave Hogwarts, a life you have worked hard for, and I don't want to hold you back. It's better this way, trust me. I'm sorry. It has to be over."

The devastation on his face was unbearable. MC clutched her hands together in front of her chest, telling herself over and over that she was doing the right thing. This was for the best.

Oscar slipped his wand from his pocket and unlocked the door. The click of the lock sounded so final in the quiet of the room. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. She had hurt him. It shone in those pretty eyes, and she hated herself for putting it there.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. Grabbing the door handle, she yanked it open and left before she changed her mind.

....*....

In her bed, alone, with only a pillow to hug for company, MC looked across towards Poppy’s empty bed. Was she alright? Happy?

Of course she was. Sebastian would be taking care of her. MC felt a fresh wave of tears creep up on her and she buried her face into her pillow. Whilst being happy for her friends, her heart felt shredded and brittle like glass. Oscar's devastated face haunted her thoughts behind her eyes whenever she closed them. It was hard to keep telling herself that this was for the best. It was. She had done the right thing.

It didn't stop it from hurting though. She had pushed away the first boy she had ever kissed, the first to capture her interest and steal her away. But, if she searched deep and truthfully, Oscar hadn't fully captured her heart. If he had, she wouldn't be here letting her tears soak into her pillow right now. She would be with him, caught up in soft dreams like Poppy was over Sebastian.

Oscar had made her heart beat faster, awoken a fire in her blood, but she just hadn't been able to make that complete leap with him. She would always hold back.

As MC let her sobs quietly ebb to a stop and try to find the safety of sleep, she thought of soft, green eyes and warm smiles. The safety and comfort that she found in Garreth's arms had soothed the tightness in her chest. His voice and warm presence had slowly stolen over her until he filtered through into her dreams. She had thought of him when Oscar had touched her, and that was the final truth.

She had feelings for Garreth, feelings she had to tuck away safely until she was ready to look at them again. For now, she needed to heal. Oscar needed to heal.

She had made the right choice. Hadn't she?

To be continued...

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley #oscar weasley #oscar weasley x mc #blueraineshadows #garreth's groupies

39 notes · View notes

merv606 · 2 months

Note

I kinda wish there was a one-off chapter in Mercy from the POV of a long time guard who’s on a first name basis with Terry.

And over the many years he’s known him, he’s never once seen him take a threat in stride. Laugh it off maybe, but never actually back down from one.

Until this man he brought home.

In all his years, only this guy has bitten, scratched, burned, almost stabbed, and threatened to cut off Terry’s dick… and gotten away with it.

He’s never seen him take a hint of attitude from anyone.

I guess love really does make you crazy-ER.

Ask and ye shall receive.

First time that Daniel throws something at Terry, Tom, the guard on Daniel duty that day, as they have taken to calling it, thinks this is it. Already mentally preparing the steps to have the clean team assembled; they’re about to have to dispose of a body.

It’s only been a few weeks since this turn of events, being summoned here for this, and Tom had been the first one allowed into the room, normally standing vigil outside instead.

There’s something about the man though, and Terry himself for that matter, his behaviour around him and about him that Tom can’t quite put his finger on. None of them can. It’s like Terry becomes another version of himself; a version no one has ever seen let alone can recognize.

Short and SFW

Despite it all, no matter what Daniel dares to dish out to awards Terry, whether it be vitriol and threats, or attempted physical assault, Terry does nothing, simply taking whatever Daniel dishes out towards him.

Then there is the attitude he gives Terry that he would never stand for from anyone else. Attitude that, when given to Terry by people in the past, Tom has broken teeth over.

But now here, Daniel already at the beginning of what atom can tell is going to be another meltdown, Terry simply ducks out of the way, the glass shattering against the wall. He doesn’t even concern himself with it, all his attention on the smaller yet very irate man, speaking softly and calmly, like Terry’s trying to both not spook him while also trying to soothe him, approaching slowly.

Daniel stands stock still, watching Terry inch closer.

Next thing they both know, the smaller man is moving faster than either of them were expecting, trying to dodge past Terry, but Terry is quicker, easily stopping him from leaving, but in the ensuing melee, a fist catches Terry in the cheek.

Spitting and snarling like an enraged animal, Terry tries to subdue Daniel without, from what Tom can tell, causing any harm, despite the fact that a small cut is already visible on Terry’s cheek, appearing from where the fist caught him.

Clearly not attacking back, only defending.

“At least you’re showing some spirit,” Terry remarks almost delightedly, once he has Daniel on the ground, his legs trapped under his, his arms trapped under the tight hold Terry has him in.

Tom knows better than to step in.

They are to let Terry handle him, and only intervene if necessary, and even then there are strict rules, rules that, in the ten years he has worked for Terry Silver, were never given for any prior situation or person.

So he stands, watching Terry quickly get the upper hand. Watches as the older man smiles - smiles - when Daniel tries to rear back and hit him with the back of his head.

“I need you to calm down for me ….”

It has the opposite effect, of course, so much so that they fall over on their sides, but Terry is still holding on.

The guard grabs a sedative, they’re all required to carry them, knowing Terry will not be able to get his from his pocket. Once he gets the nod of approval from Terry he steps forward, quickly injecting Daniel who is too busy trying to break free to maim Terry that he doesn’t even notice. That is until the familiar feeling of a needle pricking his skin registers.

For his part, Daniel manages to sink his teeth into Tom’s hand, who, despite the pain and urge to back hand him for it, doesn’t react.

Part of those strict rules are that they, none of the guards, are to react or hurt Daniel, under any circumstance, unless it it to prevent Daniel from hurting himself. One guard used a bit too much force, leaving slight bruises on Daniel’s arm and he was never seen again.

“I’m going to kill you,” Daniel says evenly, in direct odds to how hard he is struggling against the older man’s oppressively claustrophobic hold.

The guard doesn’t react - it isn’t the first time this man has threatened to kill Terry either.

Any other situation and Daniel would have been taken care of already, and the guard would have gotten his for the teeth marks in his hand, courtesy of the little shit. He supposes though, were situations to be reversed, he wouldn’t be taking it nearly as well.

“I know you’ll try,” Terry chuckles, a quick kiss placed to the mop of his hair, his struggling slowing down, movements more and more sluggish, until it stops entirely as the drugs take over entirely.

Tom wouldn’t say Terry is cooing to the younger man the entire time - Terry Silver doesn’t do such a thing - but he can’t say Terry isn’t doing that exact thing.

“So stubborn,” he murmurs. “Going to fight me at every point aren’t you?” There is a blissful look on Terry’s face that Tom doesn’t think he’s even seen before; a peace there that doesn’t make sense, given the situation. He seems completely content, like a man who has everything he’s every wanted.

Terry loosens his grip and Daniel pulls an arm free, but he’s too out of it to do anything, and Terry laces their hands together, bringing their clasped hands to his mouth, kissing each finger on Daniel’s hand.

Once he’s sure Daniel is out, Terry picks up the smaller man, laying him gently down on the bed.

“Need that looked at? Tom asks as Terry finally emerges, a suspiciously long amount of time later, Tom having stepped out as soon as Terry had laid him down on the bed.

“No it’s fine - he’s given me worse,” and Terry chuckles again.

Tom wonders if he’s fallen into the twilight zone.

A decade he’s worked for Terry, and done some crazy shit because if it, and he has never seen anything like this. Never seen Terry react to something Like this.

Terry has certainly has done worse for less; far worse for much much less.

For lack of a better word, Terry seems besotted with the smaller man; obsessed in a way Tom has never seen.

“I’m just glad he’s showing signs of life. He’s always been a handful. It’s the temper. Seems it’s only become worse the older he gets,” and that expression is back on his face, a happiness Tom has never seen on his face before, and that tone it’s so damn fond.

“I’m going to feel it tomorrow though, and you should get that checked out though,” Terry says, finally noticing the damage inflicted on Tom by his boy.

Tom nods. He also knows there will be a handsome bonus in his pay for following the rules and not retaliating, as he would have with anyone else.

“Are you able to do the night rotation?” Terry asks as he locks the door, before moving away as soon as another guard comes to stand watch. “I have a feeling he’s going to be no easier to control when he wakes up and I trust you the most around him. We must be careful that …”

“He doesn’t get hurt. Yes sir. That’s no problem.” They fall in step together. “I’ll wear gloves,” he smirks.

Terry claps him on the shoulder with a laugh. “That would be advisable. Maybe I’ll do the same.”

They head back to the control room, video monitors with various camera feeds, Tom prepared to go over the security details surrounding Daniel and the house, as they do every night.

#ask #I got an ask 🤩#cobra kai #daniel larusso #karate kid #terry silver #silverusso #silverrusso #mercy is a sharp knife

9 notes · View notes

phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing · 9 months

Text

Yaknow I've seen folks say Vita is a milf/the mom of the seven peachicks, but as much as I love milfs, I don't agree, like, at all.

I mean, I know these were probably assumptions based on out of context images or spoilers, which, make up whatever headcanon you want. So long as you don't go claiming you're right and everyone else is wrong or spread misinfo. This isn't a "fuck these people" post, this is a "this is my opinion" post.

Personally, I don't think she's like a mother to them. Rather, she's a textbook big sister.

What is a mother? Well the usual expectation is:

Creation of the child (or at least taking them in)

Nurturing the child

Seeing the child as their own

Of course there are mothers, both real and fictional, who don't fulfill these, but they're usually going to be seen as bad mothers if they don't, or unfit for the title...

Now let's match these points with what we know about what Vita does for the kids as of chapter 40.

(Note: not using official translation as it's not out yet)

1. Creation of the child/Taking them in

Vita does not live with the children. Vita is absent most of the time, only coming back very rarely, rarely enough that the kiddos complain how long every visit takes despite seemingly being at least hundreds of years old. She cannot be said to have "taken them in", as Phosphorus seems to be more their home than hers.

We do not know how Vita or the seven kids were created, probably Sa's doing, however I suspect that Vita might have been the one to name them, as they all share her name "Vita" and a religious term as a prefix that Vita uses like it's their given name.

Vita named herself and enjoys philosophizing, so it's likely that she picked such names over the more down-to-earth Sa whose pet robot was literally named "Ugly"... In fact, Sa probably wouldn't have bothered with naming the kids at all.

So, she probably didn't make them directly, didn't take them in, but she probably did name them when their creator didn't just like she did for herself?

2. Nurturing the child

Nurturing means "care for and protect (someone or something) while they are growing".

As of Hua's visit, the seven children are at least centuries old and do not appear to "grow" in the traditional sense, though they still behave like children, so the "while they are growing" part is already dubious. Some of them are more mature than others, but we don't have the context necessary to know whether Blue is mature because he was born like that or not, perhaps he just grew more suspicious over time and matured as a result, at least doesn't seem to be Vita's doing.

What about the first part? Care for and protect? Vita is never shown protecting the children from anything, but that doesn't mean she hasn't done it, just that we don't know. It's possible.

As for caring for them, we don't know whether she used to help more, but as of Hua's visit:

Vita brings back souvenirs and stories from her travels (AKA tokens from worlds she just destroyed), but she's not shown doing anything specific for the kids on a regular basis. If she does so, it's in secret.

They admire her and care for her collection in the museum, but while she is pleasant (as is her usual off business mode), she blatantly lies to them about always coming back, and they do not know much about her at all. Violet picks up on her discomfort, but Vita stays distant and keeps them at an arm's length, away from her true feelings.

The biggest instance of caring for the kids we see is a tearful little Red asking for advice because her friend started ignoring her. First off, Vita doesn't drop everything to listen to her, she forces Red to spit it out by threatening to leave again.

Second off, the advice Vita gives is based off her own experience, but she mentions learning about part of what she shares recently. Rather than nurturing, she just lays it on Red like she thinks it is...

...and third off, in the end, Red finds her own answer after hearing what Vita had to say, surprising her elder.

That's pretty far away from "motherly caring", rather, it feels they discover more together as peers. Her advice is shown to be flawed and incomplete as she's also still learning. (incidentally I suspect this conversation with Red is why she stuck around to explain everything to Seele in ch39, showing she'll take the peachick's advice too).

3. Seeing the child as their own

So what does Vita have to say about those peachicks?

Vita does call them her family when she states she trusts them to keep her collection safe, but the familial context is colored by the children calling her big sister, not mother.

What else is there?

Like the little ones said, it's just too empty. But, I have to think about what kind of decorations to use to dispel the spiritual coldness brought about by that "emptiness".

In the museum item "Freedom", she has this to say. She calls them little ones, and started the museum collection due to their comment, but her concern is on the "spiritual coldness", not particularly on the children learning something. I read this as more of a "little siblings" kind of thing.

Hi, do you like my new look? From now on, I'm going to live with this face. Haha, don't be scared, it's just a joke. (...) More importantly… do you think it really looks like a pumpkin with an evil smile?

In the description of "Agua", Vita plays a prank on the kids and enjoys showing them something a little scary. Again, this feels more like a big sister thing to me, she's not acting responsible like a mother.

Although Little Green repeatedly told me that the clock was completely broken, I still kept it. It's only three minutes slower every day, so it doesn't really matter. The atmosphere here is so relaxing, so why bother taking everything seriously? "It's okay, it'll be recycled, disassembled and repaired, and it'll be ready to go again in no time." "Isn't it normal for a clock that is out of tune to need to be calibrated?"

"Farewell" has an ominous description, but I'd like to focus on Vita being excessively chill and the child taking more responsibility for a broken item than her. Not even trying to be motherly at all...

Conclusion

We don't know a lot, but what we don't know is best described like my friends @logosminuspity and @muntiller2 did

she gives off more big sis vibes because she's not nurturing and is much more self-focused

constantly out, somewhat distant, wants to leave, etc she's textbook older sibling of an abusive home counting the days they become 18 to get the fuck out

#honkai impact #hi3 #hi3 lore #vita #honkai spoilers #theories #long post

25 notes · View notes

reader6898 · 6 months

Text

The Wolfpack Queen

Pairing: OC Talia x Commander Wolffe

Series Summary: Talia joins the Wolfpack as their new medic. Wolffe doesn't understand why everyone likes her. What happens when opposites attract? Sparks will fly between two people who didn't know they needed one another

Series Rating: 18+ (no minors allowed), violence, assault and attempted assault (not descriptive), slavery and mentions of slavery, mentions of prostitution (not descriptive), ptsd, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

Additional tags: future chapters will have chapter warnings because both Wolffe and Talia go through it 😭

Chapter summary: Talia goes on her first mission with the Wolfpack

Chapter 4

A month. That’s how long you were already with the 104th, aka the Wolfpack. Wolffe still hasn’t seen you and despite what the others say he’s beginning to think that they were making you up. While he could’ve pulled up your file to see if you were real he honestly didn’t give a crap. Like he told Boost and Sinker a month earlier: he didn’t care about a nat-born. He only wanted to focus on the task at hand and that was helping the Republic win the war. But what he didn’t know was that today was his lucky day. He will finally be meeting you for the first time today.

During the first month that you were with the newly named Wolfpack you mostly kept to yourself. Other than Jax, who you saw on a regular basis, you didn’t really talk to anyone and that included Boost and Sinker. The only time you would talk to the other clones is when you were treating them. If they were making small talk with you of course you would talk to them but other than that you would work quietly while you patched them up with the occasional question being asked. It wasn’t like you were scared of them either. In fact, all of them were pretty nice. While you had gotten used to being around this many men again you were still wary and cautious. That was the one of the many reasons why you hated what happened to you. You didn’t trust people, especially men. You knew that they wouldn’t hurt you because if they did they would be punished which you hope will never happen. That was why you still kept your guard up when you were around them and hopefully one day you won’t let what happened to you in the past get in the way. That was what you thought as you got your med pack together for the mission that you were going on with your battalion. After you finished you walked out where all the ships were kept and you double checked that you had everything one last time before you walked over to Jax who was also checking his med pack and joined him on one of the ships once he was finished. The two of you talked as everyone got on the ship and as soon as everyone was on board the ships and the supplies were on the ships took off and all of you headed down to the planet.

As the ships descended to the surface you took a deep breath. Jax looks down at you with a worried look. “You okay, Lia?” You smiled a little at the nickname as you looked at him. “I’m fine. Just a little nervous.” That wasn’t a lie. You really were nervous. You usually spent time in the medbay and took care of the men that Jax sent your way while he was with everyone else but since it’s already been a month for you he had decided to finally get you out of there and bring you along. “Don’t worry. You’ll do great. Besides, you don’t have to take care of my brothers this time.” You nodded at his words and took one more breath as the ship you were on landed. You clutched the strap of your med pack as everyone got off and soon followed behind Jax to set up your makeshift med center.

“We have a communications center set up over there and a communal kitchen up there.” Wolffe tells this to the village leader as they walk around. All around them clones and villagers alike were cleaning up the destruction from a battle that had unexpectedly hit the village when they accidentally got in the way. The village had gotten destroyed and half of their population was wiped out. Those that survived were determined to get back to normal. “Thank you, commander. My people and I are very thankful for your help. We will forever be in your debt.” Wolffe bowed his head as the leader walked away and sighs. He looks over at Boost and Sinker who had been behind him. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get off this planet.” The three of them continued walking and Wolffe looked around to make sure that everyone was doing their jobs. So far everything was going just fine so he contacted the general. “Sir.” A few seconds later he gets an answer. “Yes, Wolffe?” “Everything is going according to plan.” “Thank you, Wolffe. I will see you in a little bit.” “Yes, sir.” Wolffe breaks off the connection and continues his walk through.

“Alright sweetie, you are all set.” The little boy that you were taking care of looked at his bandage on his arm then at you with a smile. You smiled back as he jumped off the bed and ran to join his friends. You looked over at his mother who had brought him to the makeshift med center. “Make sure you change his bandage daily so that it doesn’t get infected. Here, I’ll give you some along with a couple of bacta patches.” You grab the supplies and hand it over to her. “Thank you. So much.” “You’re welcome.” The woman walks away and you let out a sigh as you clean up your area. Jax walks over to you to hand you some more bacta patches. “You did good. With all of them.” You smiled a little at his words. You felt like you accomplished something today with all of the people you helped so far. You take the patches from him and set them down as you look up at him. “It feels good. But I wish we could do more.” Jax hummed at your words. “I know but for right now we can do all we can to help them, even if it’s something small.” You nodded your head as you got back to work. Jax went back to work as well and as you finished cleaning up another parent came in with her children. You patted the bed and the children jumped on it to sit down. You put on a fresh pair of gloves and looked at the children with a smile. “Now, who’s first?”

“Everything here pretty much sustained damage but with our help I think they should be back on their feet in no time.” Plo Koon took in Wolffe’s words as they walked. “Yes, I believe you are right, Wolffe. We should get started right away.” “Already on it, sir. I have men helping move the rubble out of the way and we are also starting to rebuild some of the homes. We also started on the town square which had sustained the most damage.” The kel dor nodded his head. “Very good. Have the men check in with you on the progress they are making and report it back to me.” “Yes, sir.” They stopped in front of the med center. “And the locals that are in the med center?” “Many of the people were killed. Jax reported that half of the population is gone. The ones that have minor injuries have already been released and the ones that had more serious ones are still in there.`` Plo Koon let out a hum then turned to Sinker and the two shinies that accompanied them to talk to them about something. Wolffe looked around at his surroundings and was satisfied with everything. He then turned to look in the med center to make sure everything was going good in there. He saw Jax talking to one of the locals that was lying on the bed in front of him and continued looking at the other locals in the tent. Some had already been treated but decided to stay to mingle. Others were lying in bed with others surrounding them. He knew all too well what it was like worrying for your loved ones. He worried for his brothers every time they went into battle, knowing that some of them wouldn’t come back. Wolffe looked around a little more and then his eyes landed on you. You were currently with a couple of small children and their mother as you took care of them. So Boost and Sinker didn’t make you up and neither did the shinies. You were real. You had long brown hair that was currently up in two side buns and brown eyes. The smile you gave the children reached your eyes and your height? Maker, you were tiny. Wolffe had seen and been with his fair share of nat-born women but none of them were like you. Wolffe continued to stare at you and you must’ve sensed him staring because you looked up and saw him. The two of you stared at each other until Wolffe was pulled away from an incoming message and you had been asked a question by one of the children. But Wolffe knew one thing: he just had to meet you.

Tagging: @anxiouspineapple99 @eternal-transcience @cloneloverrrrr @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @moonlightwarriorqueen @starrylothcat @dystopicjumpsuit @cw80831 @clonethirstingisreal @deejadabbles @523rdrebel @sinfulsalutations

#star wars #oc #oc x commander wolffe #commander wolffe #oc talia #oc talia x wolffe

14 notes · View notes

natimiles · 8 months

Text

Come a Little Closer | Chapter 2

Read: Chapter 1

Words: 3213

Pairs: gn!reader/Arthur; f!MC/Mozart

Tags: swearing; drinking; spoilers from Mozart’s and Arthur’s route in one big bowl of salad; lots of pet names (because I love it); MC is the one in-game, just to make it more clear; Mozart being petty; reader and Arthur being adorable and chaotic; suggestive scenes because we have Arthot as one of the main characters; Arthur simping over you.

Notes: Writing this fic is making me love Arthur so much. He used to share 3rd place in my heart with Jean. Now he's moved up to 2nd place, alongside Mozart :')

I don’t remember if there’s another piano outside Mozart’s music room in the mansion, but for the sake of the plot, we’ll assume there is.

The best decision ever made in your life was giving Arthur a chance.

Well, actually, it was to follow Comte through that door; that’s the start of every happy moment of the past year. But, the writer turned out to be the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. He’s really faithful and head over heels for you, and he’s not afraid to show it (not anymore). You’ve only been dating for a month, but you’ve helped him so much. He opened his heart to you, and you didn’t run or judge; you just accepted him. So, it’s no wonder he can’t help himself; every day, he loves you more.

For the terror of half the mansion, both of you didn’t mind displaying your love, whether it was holding hands, hugging, or kissing. At any opportunity, you were glued side by side, and you couldn’t care less if there was someone else in the room watching. However, for the peace of mind of that same half of the mansion, Mozart was an overprotective brother. When he was around, it was difficult to be affectionate with Arthur; and your brother was around all the time, guarding you like a hellhound. Everytime he had an opportunity, he’d be there to prevent you two from doing something ’gross’, as he called it on a daily basis.

Arthur tried, but he couldn’t help being as playful as ever. He loved seeing Mozart fuming, his face all red with anger; it was funny as hell for him. On the other hand, you often felt caught in the middle of their fights, working hard to make them at least behave in each other’s presence. After all, you were determined not to let anything break the special bond you shared with both of them.

But it was so hard.

To be fair, Mozart was jealous of anyone who tried to get close to you. Arthur didn’t even need to worry about jealousy with the other residents, as your loving brother had that covered. One day, you went to help Napoleon and Isaac with their school. The emperor hugged you for a second longer and ruffled your hair when you got home. Mozart didn’t say anything because he knew Napoleon was a decent person. He had been a soldier and an emperor in his past life, which reassured the musician. However, it didn’t stop him from narrowing his eyes, clearly unamused. Napoleon let out his boisterous laugh, fully aware that he’d probably become overprotective too if you and he developed the same kind of relationship and bond you had with Mozart.

And you swear he had already glared at Sebastian once, when the butler flicked your head. This time you were actually grateful, because that flick hurt.

But when it came to Arthur Conan Doyle, every feeling of repulsion was ten times stronger for the musician. He despised Arthur and his playfulness; he thought he was loud and unnecessary. Not to mention, he considered him a perverted scoundrel, always flirting and saying those repulsive things to you since your first day here. And now, with Arthur always by your side, being lovey-dovey and spreading his germs all over you… it was just ew.

That’s why he tried everything in his power to protect you; although he didn’t really have to try, it was just a part of who he was with the ones he loved. If you were gardening, sometimes Arthur would be there with you, a paper and his pen in hand. Bold of you to assume your brother wouldn’t see you two from his music room and show up, scoffing at every romantic word Arthur said to you.

Oh, so you were planning to bring Arthur to Mozart’s next performance at the ball? Too bad, you’re already his plus one, and the perv can’t come. But if he somehow manages to attend, you two won’t be waltzing too close that night because Mozart will play every song that involves dancing with lots of people around, maintaining at least an arm’s length of distance.

And if you think about inviting Arthur to your room or going to his… Don’t. Even. Dare. Mozart’s eyes say he’d kick down that door and hunt Arthur down until the confines of hell. You both believe it. However, it didn’t stop Arthur from sneaking into your room one night, knowing that Mozart was exhausted and sleeping soundly. You made sure that your boyfriend left before your brother woke up, and had to cover your neck with your hair and clothes for a few days. You also had to buy Theo’s silence, since his room was beside yours and he made sure you both knew that he heard some ’incriminatory noises’.

You were really, really patient; you knew he didn’t mean harm. The writer had a bad past that added to Mozart’s arguments, but he was different now. Arthur proved it to you every single day. Sometimes you risked saying that he got a little upset with your brother’s remarks about how he wasn’t worth the trust, but it was there for only a moment because you’d kiss him better.

“YN, is that enough rouge for Sir Isaac?” A soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You were washing the dishes from breakfast and stopped, looking at the woman holding a glass and examining it meticulously. “Yes, that’s enough,” you answered her and smiled. “And just call him Isaac, he gets all awkward when we call him Sir.”

“Oh, right. Thanks!” She smiled and got back to setting up Isaac’s brunch.

A week ago, MC suddenly came to the mansion. You were the one to find her lost in the hallway, asking her where the hell did she come from. She said the same story you’ve been through, and you stared at her for a good minute before pinching the bridge of your nose and asking her to follow you to the dining room, where everyone was having dinner peacefully. You’ve never seen Comte choke on his own wine before, or Leonardo deadpan for so long, asking how he managed to not notice two humans following him to the mansion in such a short period.

Apparently, Comte couldn’t resist helping lost people in the Louvre and involuntarily drawing them around his orbit.

You knew how scary and confusing it was to get there by accident, so you were the one who suggested putting everything on the table as soon as possible. She was a little scared, of course, but it helped that you and Sebastian were human.

And since then, you and her became friends really quickly, probably a human bonding thing since she also trusted Sebastian very much. She was the kindest woman you’d ever met, and you were determined to ensure she felt like part of the family; and she was already feeling like it. She tried getting along with everyone, and you may have threatened Theo and Mozart once or twice to be nice to her. She also wanted to be useful while staying at the mansion and started helping around, which is why she was asking about the amount of rouge Isaac had to drink.

“Oh, and don’t forget his sandwich,” you reminded her.

“Right!” She nodded and went to the pantry to get the ingredients. “Should I make it for anyone else?”

“Mmm, I guess not. Maybe Jean, but he takes a while to be convinced to eat something when he doesn’t know you well.”

“I noticed that,” she giggled.

“Oh, I think Arthur spent the entire night writing because he wasn’t here for breakfast,” you pondered. You’ve quickly kissed him goodnight the day before and haven’t seen him since. He must be really busy with his new manuscript.

“I can make a sandwich for him as well, if you don’t mind,” she offered.

“No, no. My darling makes me the best ones,” Arthur said, entering the kitchen. He walked to you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind to not disturb you while you were busy, kissing the top of your head. “Morning, luv.”

“Morning, sunshine,” you smiled widely. “Want me to make you something?”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a smile, “I can make it on my own. You’re already busy.” He rested his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. His fangs would start hurting soon from smelling you so much and being so close without breakfast. But he’d endure it if it meant he could stay a little longer with you like this.

“I’m going to deliver Isaac’s brunch,” MC said as she grabbed the tray she had set up.

“Ok, thanks!” You smiled at her. As soon as she was out of sight, you felt Arthur nibble your neck. “Wha- Arthur!” You tried to sound upset, but it was clear you didn’t really mind.

“Yes, honey?” He chuckled. ”I’m just enjoying it while your hellhound isn’t here.”

“I’d ask you to not call Mozart that, but this last month showed me that he is one.” You snorted.

“Indeed,” he said, kissing your neck and holding you more firmly by the waist.

“Do you think that if we set him up with someone, he’d stop?” You wondered out loud. “Having someone special might make him understand us better.”

“Maybe, maybe not…” Arthur stopped his advances with a final kiss and went to get something to eat and drink. He was on the brink of succumbing to his bloodlust. Yes, he had bitten you before, but always discreetly, never in the middle of the kitchen where anyone could walk in. He couldn’t risk Mozart destroying the whole mansion. “He’s not really interested in love, I think, and you could just talk to him about it. But I see you’ve got someone in mind, and you really want to give it a shot, don’t you?”

“Well, yes…” You said with a light-hearted laugh, putting the last plate on the dryer. You dried your hands and turned around, leaning against the counter with a mischievous expression. “We just need someone kind enough to put up with his attitude. And we thankfully have her now.”

As if on cue, MC arrived as soon as you finished your sentence, smiling brightly. “I’m back! What do you need help with now?”

You exchanged a knowing look with Arthur. It would be a little hard, since Mozart didn’t like the new resident at all; but it was worth the shot.

xxx

Easier said than done.

Comte threw a fancy banquet a few days later, and even Will showed up. He wanted MC to feel at home, and everyone knew he went all out when he was in a good mood. There was loads of delicious food you and Sebastian had cooked, along with some nice wine and rouge or blanc — for those who didn’t hold their liquor very well.

You convinced Mozart to play something at the party, even though he didn’t want to attend it in the first place. Your brother didn’t like MC, for some unknown reason. Yes, she was clumsy, a little stubborn, and too curious for her own good — much like you —, but she was also kind, gentle, and funny, and she was pretty too. So why did Mozart insist on being mean to her? You weren’t asking him to touch her, you knew he was germophobic; you just asked him to be nice! And he didn’t need to know you had some ulterior motives for wanting them to be friends.

Some puppy eyes were enough to make him agree on not only going, but playing at least a little bit on another piano that wasn’t his — you also had to make sure it was crystal clean for him.

“That was beautiful, Herr Mozart!” MC complimented with a smile after he finished another song. She was on the couch beside the piano, while you were sitting next to him on the piano bench.

Mozart didn’t respond; he just sighed in annoyance. You discreetly hit his ribs with your elbow and shot him a glare. “Be nice,” you muttered.

“I don’t have a reason why.” Another hit. “Stop that!” He hissed.

“He appreciates your compliment, MC,” you said with a smile as you turned your face to the woman.

His face looked like he wanted to deny it, but didn’t want to get hit again. “Whatever,” he rolled his eyes and left to get something to eat.

“He sounds angry, but he isn’t,” you said, moving to sit beside her on the couch. “You just have to learn how to read his moods.”

“Really?” She looked at where the musician went. Frowning, MC looked back at you. ”I don’t think Herr Mozart likes me.”

“He doesn’t like anyone,” Arthur said, sitting on your other side. “Well, except for YN, but who wouldn’t like this cute little thing?”

“Now that’s not true. He likes Jean too,” you said. Mozart was getting on your nerves lately, but you still loved him and wanted to protect him.

“Because Jean barely speaks. I guess they just have similar moods, always quiet and not wanting to be near any of us. You know, ’the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ kinda thing.”

“And I think he talked to Isaac at the last party,” you tried to defend him.

“Ok, darling, we get it,” he laughed and kissed your cheek, finding adorable how you were pouting. “He possessively loves you, likes Jean, tolerates some residents and definitely despises me.”

“And probably me too,” MC said, placing a finger on her chin and recalling all the times she tried to be friendly, only to have Mozart roll his eyes or respond rudely.

“MC, come eat something!” You three heard Vincent calling, always the angel trying to make her feel welcome.

“Yes, I’m going!” she answered and stood up. “Excuse me, you two,” she smiled at you and left.

You leaned on Arthur’s shoulder and he wrapped his arm around you, passing you a glass of wine that you just noticed he was holding. Even though he didn’t drink that much anymore, he certainly liked to share some wine with you.

“I guess it’s gonna be harder than I thought,” you said and sipped the wine; sweet, as you liked it.

“Mmm, but I know you can do it.” He nuzzled his nose on your cheek and kissed it. “You always manage to accomplish what you want.”

You turned around to kiss Arthur on the lips, his hand already holding you by the nape. Then you heard Mozart’s voice ringing right in front of you.

“Hey, YN! Scootch a little bit for me, please.” He smiled at you and glared at Arthur. Without giving you a chance to react, he nudged your legs to the side, squeezing himself between you and your boyfriend.

“Mozart!” You looked at him and then to Arthur, who was equally bewildered. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting with my sibling,” he said, turning his back on Arthur and completely ignoring him.

Silence. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. That was probably the last straw, pushing your patience to its limit.

“And I was with my boyfriend,” you glared at him.

“Yes, and now I’m here to keep you company and protect you.”

“That’s not-!” You huffed indignantly and sighed. “Mozart, we need to talk.”

“I’ll leave you two,” Arthur said, reading the room.

“Don’t worry, luv.” You stood up and grabbed Mozart by the hand, marching out to his music room.

The musician grinned seeing he accomplished what he wanted. He sat on his piano bench happily, but his smile died down when he looked at you. You were leaning your back against the closed door, with your eyes closed, and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Is everything ok, little one?”

“No, Mozart, it’s not.” Your tone was serious, and he almost panicked. You never used such a tone with him; you were always kind and sweet, even before you two developed this sibling-like relationship.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice filled with concern.

Sighing, you moved to sit beside him, mustering up enough patience and courage to speak your mind. “You know I love you, but you’re driving me crazy. I know you don’t like Arthur, but you’re not being fair with him or our relationship. You’re not being fair with me. You have to stop being overprotective, possessive and petty.”

“I’m not petty!” He said with an indignant tone.

“So you know you’re being overprotective and possessive.” You raised an eyebrow. “At first, it was kinda amusing, and it’s nice to feel loved and have a reliable brother. But seriously, I can’t even hug my boyfriend without you freaking out. You just straight-up squeezed yourself in between us!”

“Well, you were too close for unmarried people and etiquette says it’s rude to others in the room.” He crossed his arms, maintaining an adamant tone. You couldn’t help but notice he didn’t even refer to you as a ’couple.’

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You deadpanned at him and he grimaced at your swearing. “You’re being petty right after denying it! I’m a grown-up, Mozart. I can make my own decisions, and you know what? The best decision I’ve made was to start dating Arthur.”

“He’s not reliable,” he huffed. “You know he flirted with everything that moved and breathed. He was with a different woman every night. He tried to bite you!”

“I know,” you rolled your eyes. “And stop mentioning the bite! Half the mansion thought about biting me in my first week here. Even Jean almost bit me because he was starving himself.” You mentioned his best friend on purpose and got the reaction you wanted: he flinched. You leaned your head on his shoulder and held one of his hands, your fingers intertwining. Your tone was softer now, as if you were patiently explaining something to a child. “You have to understand that you’re not only affecting Arthur when you do that, you’re affecting me too. Arthur is the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. He changed and he shows it to me everyday. I love him and he loves me so much. So please, please… respect me and try to at least tolerate my boyfriend. Can you do that for your dearest little sibling?”

“I can’t say no to you when you ask like that,” he sighed, squeezing your hand and resting his head on yours. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. It was difficult for him to apologize, to admit he was wrong. He now realizes the distress in your voice; he caused it to you. He tried to protect you, to shield you from any harm these unusual residents could possibly do to you, but he was the one upsetting you in the end. “I just… tried to be a good brother to you; to prevent you from being hurt.”

“I know,” you turn your head to look at him and smile. “And I appreciate you looking out for me. Just don’t overdo it, okay?”

“Ok, I promise I’ll try.”

“Good. Now, how about we go back and play the piano for everyone at the banquet? We can play that four-hands piece you compose for us.”

If you want a reference for Mozart sitting in between you and your lovely boyfriend: Harry Potter. When Ron sits between Harry and Ginny and just “excuse me, I need to sit here”. But Mozart doesn’t even offer you anything to eat, HASIUHEASUIEHAS.

Masterlists

Read: Chapter 3

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp fanfics #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikevamp x mc #ikemen vampire x mc #ikevamp arthur x reader #ikevamp mozart x mc #ikevamp writings

15 notes · View notes

kaibutsushidousha · 1 month

Text

Marble World and Candy Resist (Sagrada Reset 4) - Chapter 4

[INDEX]

The next day—April 11th, Tuesday.

That morning, Asai Kei stood in front of the school gate.

Ashiharabashi High students passed by him and came in. The morning classes would start in 10 minutes.

Yesterday, Kei spent a long time investigating Sera's middle school years. He phoned her former classmates and met her teacher in person. And he asked them all what kind of student Sera Sawako was. That gave him a good idea of why Sera used her ability.

He was sleepy, as he was every morning. Trying his best not to yawn, Kei looked at the school building.

He made a 2 cm gap between his thumb and index finger and held it in front of his face. He imagined a marble in this gap. What was the exact image Sera Sawako saw when she activated her ability?

The sky. The trees. The schoolyard. The school, its windows, and the clock installed on the wall would all be distorted and upside-down. That's the theoretical scenery she was seeing.

(Seems like I was right.)

When Kei thought that, he heard a voice behind him.

"Good morning, Kei."

He turned back to see Haruki Misora with a marble in the palm of her hand.

Kei smiled.

"Good morning. Did you manage to make friends with Sera?"

"Yup, pretty much."

Kei stared at Haruki's blank face for a while.

"You don't sound like yourself."

"Uhuh. Sera told me yesterday that the way I talked to my classmates was odd."

"Oh, I can see how."

Hearing a less deadpan Haruki was fresh and amusing.

"Are you okay with this?", asked Sera Sawako from inside the marble.

"You mean with casual Haruki?"

"Yeah, that."

"I think it's great."

(Haruki's face is already extremely inexpressive, so she benefits from her speech being less stiff.)

"Thanks. Sera found it unnatural and eerie, though.", Haruki nodded in approval.

"That's a shame."

Haruki subtly shook her head.

"Doesn't bother me. Just felt like hearing your opinion."

"Really? Didn't expect you to care so much about this kind of thing."

"I'm just copying how you talk. Did I get any part wrong?"

"Don't think so. But you're not me."

"So it's not even similar?"

"No, it is similar. But even if you use the same phrasing, it doesn't feel the same because your voice is nothing like mine."

"And which style you prefer?"

"Hmm. Both have their charm, but I'd say the usual style is less distracting."

Haruki nodded again.

"Understood. Then that's what I'll be using."

"The talk about speech tones can wait. Shouldn't you guys be hurrying? Class is about to start.", said a slightly flustered Sera from inside the marble.

Kei shook his head with a smile.

"No, that's not an issue."

"Why?"

"I decided to ditch school for today."

Sera squealed.

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

They weren't heading toward anywhere specifically.

Kei and Haruki wandered town at random and arrived at a park. Going somewhere near their school was obviously a bad idea. Anywhere else was fine.

The two sat next to each other on a red bench. Its worn-out paint had been replaced just two years ago, so it looked to be in a relatively good state.

Kei had Sera's marble in the palm of his hand.

"Is this a good idea?", she quietly asked herself.

"What is?"

"Not going to school."

"The second day of class doesn't mean anything."

The lessons proper hadn't started yet. The most important thing they'd be doing is picking class representatives.

Besides, a Reset would de facto rewind this time. They just needed to attend class after it. The focus now was on Sera's problem.

"Do you agree with that, Misora?", asked Sera.

(I didn't know they were on a first-name basis. That's closer than I'd have imagined.)

Haruki nodded.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It was Kei's decision."

"That passes for a reason?"

"It does."

Kei leaned on the bench's backrest as he watched the two argue. No clouds in the sky. With the weather like this, the cherry blossoms were going to last on their branches.

"Asai, Misora. It's my fault that you're not going to school, isn't it?"

After some hesitation, Kei answered.

"That was entirely my decision. You don't have to blame yourself for it. But my decision not to go to school is, at least in intention, for your benefit."

That was a lie. He didn't think Sera would benefit in any way from their absence. He only wanted to test if she would feel culpable.

The upside-down girl lowered her gaze to the sky.

"Sorry. I'll be looking for a way to get out of here on my own. You can go to school, Asai and Misora", she said after one deep breath.

"Why do you care so much about school? Weren't you ditching the entrance ceremony?", Kei answered with his eyes on Sera.

She shook her head.

"That's different. It was something I needed to do."

"Needed why?"

It took a while before Sera could answer.

Kei patiently waited for her answer. The tender sunshine of an April morning encouraged him to skip school more often. The subjects learned in class and the subjects learned watching the blue sky were completely different but one was not inherently more valuable than the other. It all depends on the person learning.

Sera eventually resigned herself and began explaining.

"My teacher told me there's beauty in the heart of a child who appreciates pristine beauty."

"What teacher?"

"My teacher from the third year of elementary school."

"Ok. Continue."

"It's because people have beauty in their hearts that they can discover beauty and grow to love it. By comparing the beauty in our hearts to what we see and think and seeking beauty in all of it, we can enter a more beautiful world. That's the gist of what she said."

Kei nodded.

(She was talking about morals. It's all very easy to follow when you replace the word "beautiful" with "correct". She was telling you to do what you believe is correct. It's a conventional but universally valuable thing to pass on. Your elementary school teacher told you what a 9-year-old child needs to hear.)

"I believed her. This whole time. That made me a very earnest student.", told Sera. "I thought that was more beautiful than being indifferent."

"You had a wonderful teacher."

"Yeah. She wasn't distinguished or impressive in any way. Just a very proper elementary school teacher, I think... But what she taught was for elementary school."

There was a negative nuance mixed in her words.

(Not a dynamic emotion like annoyance or anger. Something more quiet, like sadness or loneliness.)

"I think only elementary schoolers should believe what the elementary school teacher says. But I kept believing her lessons in middle school and beyond."

"Is that a problem?"

"It is. I never missed class or got late through all of middle school."

"That's impressive."

"It isn't. Can it with the lazy answers."

She was audibly on edge. She quietly apologized before continuing.

"They gave me a certificate for perfect attendance and that's all there is to it. I woke up early on days I didn't sleep enough, forced myself to go when I wasn't feeling well, and all I got in return was a sheet of cardboard. Anyone with a computer can make one like it. I think the people who took days off knew better."

Kei wanted to argue but stopped himself. He thought that the only one fit to judge the worth of a certificate was its receiver. If she finds it worthless, it is worthless.

"I was supposed to learn this kind of shrewdness in middle school. But I didn't know better.", said Sera.

"So you didn't attend the first day of school so you could be someone who knows better?"

She was absent at Ashiharabashi High's entrance ceremony the previous day.

"Missing the bus was a coincidence. But it got me thinking about what would happen if I didn't go to school. So I went off to some shops and parks."

"Was it fun?"

After a moment of hesitation, she shook her head.

"No. I thought what I was doing wasn't beautiful. I felt super guilty. So I really hated the experience."

"You skipped school and you regret it."

"That's not it. I hated keeping the straight-laced face and feeling guilt over something this insignificant. I wanted to be more capable of bending and flipping my lifestyle."

"Do you really mean it?"

"I do. That should be why I entered the marble. So I could commit to missing school. I wanted to enter the orb that bends and inverts every I see like it's mocking the world."

That was a possibility he considered.

Along with the possibility that Sera Sawaka hated her overseriousness in general and tried to escape it by entering the marble. But it didn't feel natural.

"I don't think that's it", said Kei.

His denial came as a surprise. Sera's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"I talked to your middle school classmates yesterday."

"Huh?"

"Sorry if you didn't like hearing that. But I think it was necessary."

Sera kept staring at Kei, speechless.

"I heard a lot about you.", Kei continued.

Sera Sawako was frequently absentminded, often late to get in line for lunch, bad at English, didn't have the best enunciation, wanted to work as a child caretaker, was a surprisingly skilled pianist, and loved Chupa-Chups lollipops.

Many different people said many different things about her. But there's one common element everyone mentioned. Sera Sawako's main trait.

"Everyone called you by the same name."

Those close to her or otherwise alike.

"Yeah, I know.", Sera blurted out in a bizarrely detached tone.

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

Sera Sawako was known as the Monitor.

A management position made into a nickname. But her middle school didn't have discipline monitors in any official manner. That was just what she was called.

One classmate called her that in the first year and it caught on.

Sera loved the title at first. She felt proven correct.

(There's more beauty in following the rules than in breaking them. That's easy to see.)

Her behavior was always defined by this core thought.

A fully buttoned uniform was more beautiful than an open jacket. Arriving on time was more beautiful than being late. Reprimanding the people she caught breaking the rules was more beautiful than letting it slide. She always believed it. That's why Sera Sawako never broke a rule or allowed others to.

By the first month, the Monitor's nickname was spread. Before she knew it, no one was addressing Sera Sawako by name anymore.

That was when things started feeling off. She did something wrong and had no idea what.

One day, Sera found a classmate wearing a red T-shirt under his uniform. That wasn't allowed. The school regulations were pretty specific that the students needed to wear white shirts. Sera naturally warned him that he was violating the rules.

"Eh, it's only the Monitor saying that.", argued the classmate.

"Uhuh, you got no reason to care.", another classmate answered.

That was when Sera finally realized her title of Monitor was derogatory.

Paying more attention to those around her, she noticed that she wasn't well-liked. People still talked to her between classes but no one invited her for anything after school.

(All because I kept making the most beautiful choices...)

She understood that no one other than her sought beauty.

Sera Sawako spent her middle school years alone and remained alone upon graduation.

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

"Discipline Monitor Sera Sawako.", said Kei. "Everyone said your most noticeable trait was taking everything too seriously."

Sera nodded.

"Yes. That's why I gotta get used to being frivolous."

Kei disagreed.

"But I don't think that's what you want."

"Why not?"

"They really told me a lot."

Every time she saw someone breaking school regulations, she reported to the teachers without fail. She reprimanded a teacher for smoking in a no-smoking area. She noticed her skirt was slightly longer than what was established in the rulebook, so she got written permission and attended classes in her PE uniform the entire day.

And lastly, the case of the Chupa-Chups.

"Three strawberry lollipops, two ramune, and two grape."

Seven in total. She brought those lollipops by mistake and voluntarily turned them in to the teachers. Barring special needs, Sera's middle school didn't allow students to bring their own food.

"You mean to eat those in school, right?"

Sera subtly nodded to the question.

"Yeah."

"To break a rule?"

"Exactly. The kids who knew better didn't take that rule seriously."

"But you ultimately couldn't."

"In high school, I..."

Kei disagreed.

"During your middle school years, you tried and failed to break the rules multiple times, and none of those triggered your ability. What happened this time is different. The opposite, even."

(Everything is inverted.)

Despite her attempts to grow frivolous, she was no less earnest than the way she started. It was by accident that she arrived late.

When the entrance ceremony was ending, she arrived at the school gate with a marble in hand.

"I ran a little test on the place where you collapsed. I checked what I could see through a marble when standing in front of the school gate."

Looking at the schoolyard from outside the gate, the first thing he saw was the school building.

It had a large clock on the wall.

When Sera arrived around the end of the entrance ceremony, severely late, she must have seen the clock. Through the marble.

Everything looked reserved in the marble world. Including the dial on the clock. Up is down and right is left. When the hands of the clock mark 11:30, it'd still be 5 in the marble world.

"Yesterday, you were late to school and stood in front of the gate. When you saw the reversed world in the marble, the clock suggested it was still early in the morning."

The image wasn't real. It had no meaning.

Even if the clock seemed to display a different number, it was still 11:30. Time is unalterable.

"But that's the world you preferred, right? Knowing it was a lie, you still wanted to escape to the world where the ceremony hadn't started and you weren't late for it, right?"

There was nothing more to the case.

That was her whole reason for being trapped in the marble. Sera Sawako had a wish powerful enough to subconsciously activate her ability.

She took a long time to answer.

Kei gave up on waiting for a response and instead asked a question of his own.

"Is it nice inside the marble?"

She softly shook her head.

"Everything here is upside-down. The school, the clock, and even myself. And when I'm upside-down, the upside-down clock doesn't look upside-down to me."

"Then that's the same as being outside."

It was not the world she wanted.

"Yeah. Being late on purpose didn't make me any less repulsed about it. I really don't know better.", said Sera.

Kei took a closer look at her marble. It was a cheap and beautiful clear sphere with a blue tinge. It sparkled when reflecting light.

"You should have attended the entrance ceremony, Sera."

If the experience was distressing enough to make her want to escape into a marble, he failed to see the point in discarding the beauty in her heart. Kei believed that if she couldn't become someone who "knows better", she should instead become someone who follows her beliefs in disregard of any opposition.

Sera shook her head.

"It's too late."

Kei smiled at her.

"No, it's not. You still can make it.", he said, watching the plastic glimmer of the marble. "Haruki, Reset."

The world crumbled to take a girl out of her marble.

For no reason greater than that.

It crumbled and was put together again, thus birthing the world of the past.

#sagrada reset #marble world and candy resist #asai kei #haruki misora #sera sawako

3 notes · View notes

zeldaelmo · 9 months

Text

Alright! Thanks for the feedback! Today's WIP Wednesday is a snippet from the next chapter of my Regency AU The Promise!

The scene is set in an orangery. Orangeries were very popular in northern Europe during the time among the nobility and rich people. Originally, they were used to, well, grow oranges. And lemons, limes, etc. Later, when the fascination on citrus fruits died down, they were used to cultivate all kinds of plants that couldn't grow in the cold, nordic winters. There are still a lot around, so if you're in Europe, don't miss to visit a public one or if you are lucky even a private one!

Picture by Tilba, pixabay. UK, I believe.

Excerpt from The Promise, chapter 10:

The flowers swayed hardly recognizable in the soft draft that the glass failed to keep out and they both watched, sunken in their very different thoughts. Eventually, Link kept the conversation going, if only to keep his facade up. "Did you know they lose their bioluminescence when you use them as a dye?"

Surprised, Ganondorf turned to him. “You can use them as dye?”

Link nodded, turned his face toward the darkness of the night waiting behind the glass, and pressed his lips together before he spoke. “Zelda told me.”

For a long moment, Link heard nothing but the quiet drumming of raindrops on the glass roof. Saying her name had made the fragrance-heavy air around them shift in a way he couldn’t put his finger on.

"Link?" Ganondorf's voice was quiet but still cut the silence like a dagger. They weren't on a first-name basis, not really, but Link couldn't bring himself to insist on manners. Skies, he could hardly bring himself to turn around but eventually, he managed and met Ganondorf's golden eyes which waited shimmering in the dark.

"Did… did you tell Zelda that you love her?"

Link scoffed and flipped lint from his knee. "We met three days ago. Or four. I've lost track."

Ganondorf whistled through his teeth. "Quite the death glare you shot me for dancing with her for that short amount of time." He leaned closer without losing his balance and the scent of roses and tobacco hit Link. "All the more reasons she should know."

Link narrowed his eyes at him, or well, only one. The other was still swollen. "What do you want?"

Read the already published chapters here!

#zelink #zeldaelmo writes #legend of zelda #the promise #wip wednesday

15 notes · View notes

the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes · 1 month

Text

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐸𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 12

Explanations and Meetings Long Over View

Pairing: Alastor x F!OC (Theia, The Demon of a Thousand Eyes)

Chapter Summary: Time to meet Rana in Imp City! We have a lot to discuss and it's not even been a full week at the hotel! Rana has lots of opinions on what has happened, mentions some rumor about the Vees keeping something secret from the last extermination, and finally introduces us to her boss.

The results of the poll about Chapter 14: Theia and Sir Pentious with a 53.8%! I also got an additonal comment this morning hoping as such, and frankly as soon as I posted the poll I immediately wanted this to happen but I'd already decided to post the poll so I'm happy about the results, too! Not to worry if you voted for Angel because of Fat Nuggets. We'll see Fat Nuggets soon. I promise. I won't forget his perfectness in this little fic. It might have to wait until the events of Masquerade, but he'll be there.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: Cannibalism

Humming, you step out of the alley and out into the streets. Every now and again someone might be surprised to see you, but since you weren’t dressed too fancy no one paid you much mind. Sinners come to Imp City sometimes, you were aware, but you didn’t travel here for any of those reasons. You were just here for Rana. A few streets over, and you see her sitting at an outdoor table at your favorite cafe. She’s average height for most female imps. She’s dressed today in a simple black dress that looks similar to your own, minus the eyes, of course. Her dark red skin and tail contrast well with her black hair and black and white striped horns. Her hair is short, about neck-length, but she’s tufted it so that it almost looks like ears. In her hair, she has a crescent moon shaped hair clip. You’re quite fond of it. Perched on the bridge of her nose, she is wearing a pair of hot pink cat-eye frames. Around her neck on a chain, she has a pair of neon green square shaped frames. You’re certain that if you requested she turn out her pockets, she’d have at least one monocle and a few more pairs of glasses.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You smile as you sit beside her.

“Nothing to worry about, Theia. I’ve already ordered for both of us. I knew you’d be along shortly, with that network of yours.” She sips from a teacup in front of her. “The waiter will bring your drink soon, now that you’ve arrived.”

Just as she’d spoken, in mere moments the waiter arrives with a second cup of tea. You thank him and reach into your fridge to procure a pair of eyeballs for your cup. “So I know we just spoke on the phone a few days ago, but how have you been, Rana?” You ask curiously as you sip your tea.

“I’m quite alright, Theia, thank you for asking. Work has been messy. My boss managed to set the entire office on fire. Nothing to worry about though, I managed to get the fire under control and ordered some extinguishers for the next time we inevitably need them. The souls under your keep are all doing well. Rumor has it that the Vees stumbled across something big in the last extermination and have been keeping it a secret from all the other overlords.” Rana sips her tea and her tail flicks with conspiratorial amusement.

You shrug as you sip yours. “Well when that rumor becomes substantiated let me know. I can’t afford to be out of the loop about something so important. I may have the most eyes in Hell but even I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Enough about my work, though. How have you been doing? You’re at the hotel now, right? What’s that like?”

“It’s a hotel. Charlie’s got us doing these trust exercises to bond with each other? It kind of works. I’m making some friends like Rosie said I would.” You shrug again as you sip your tea.

“‘Charlie’, huh? You’re on a first name basis with the Princess?” Rana raises an eyebrow, surprised.

You shrug a third time. “She introduced herself that way. For royalty, she really likes to keep it low-key. It surprised me, too.”

“Hm, that is very different from any royalty I’ve ever been around.” Rana frowns, swishes her tail, takes a sip of her tea, then says, “And what’s it like now that you’re around him?” She leans in conspiratorially as the waiter brings a plate of finger foods for the two of you to snack on together. Not actual fingers though, as this isn’t Cannibal Town. The tray is piled high with cookies, cakes, and a few sandwiches of various kinds.

Your smile wobbles. You let it fall. It’s hard to not keep that poised smile affixed. You raise your arms to rub your temples. “He’s driving me insane, Rana. I mean we’ve talked about him before. I’ve kept my distance ever since I arrived, made sure to observe him through the network to avoid running into him. He’s a cold-blooded, heartless killer. He’s quite close with Rosie, and I know she can be a softie when she wants to, of course, but she has a similar taste for murder and vengeance. All overlords have it to some extent. I know I enjoy the satisfaction of tearing apart some sinners now and again myself. Alastor is…more than I anticipated. I expected him to be arrogant, smarmy, smug. I knew that he was polite, charming, as a facade, and I’ve always been fascinated by his powers, his shadows, his tentacles…”

“Theia, please, I don’t need another twenty minutes of you telling me how hot he is when he uses his tentacles on his enemies. The last six of them were more than enough, thank you.”

You huff a laugh but continue onward. “Meeting him in person…threw me off-kilter. He was charming to me in front of Rosie, of course, but he never stopped being charming to me. Even when I got up in his face. I assume he finds me fascinating because of, well, you know.”

“The secret you’ve painstakingly kept hidden from the entirety of Pentagram City?” Rana rolls her eyes. “Of course I know, and of course he would find that fascinating, but it seems to me there’s more to the story you’re not sharing.”

“He…took me on a date?” You pick up one of the cookies and stare into the eyes in your cup instead of looking at her.

“He what?” She nearly screeches. Someone yells at her to shut the fuck up, and she flips them off. You’re so proud. She’s come so far. “Elaborate immediately.”

“So I was running out of eyeballs that I’d bought from Rosie and Charlie gave us the day off. I decided I’d pop in and thank her for giving me the push I needed to join the hotel, make view lens. Since I can’t use the network to travel in and around most of the hotel, I had to walk to the front doors. Alastor was there waiting for me. When I told him where I was headed, he insisted he’d take me out to lunch, and then we’d go to Rosie’s to buy more eyes. I reluctantly agreed.” You munch on a cookie.

“And?” She hops excitedly in her seat.

“Well, I thought it was going to be a diner, right? I was sightly overdressed for a diner, but that wouldn’t have stopped me from enjoying any good place, especially if they’ve got fried eyes.”

“You and your obsession with eyes.” She rolls hers, amused.

“You and your obsession with eyewear.” You smirk back, gesturing to her.

Just to spite you, she takes off the hot-pink frames and fishes into her pocket, pulling out a pair of neon-yellow ones shaped like daisies to put on instead. “We all have our quirks. Now, tell me about the diner.”

“That’s just the thing, Rana. It wasn’t a diner. It was Tourniquet.”

“The fanciest restaurant in Cannibal Town? The one you’ve never actually eaten at because it’s intended for couples?! How romantic!” You are struggling to take her seriously in those glasses.

You nod and finish off the cookie. Sipping your tea, you continue, “I’m getting ahead of myself, though. So on the walk over, I ask him eye he keeps calling me ‘my dear’ and ‘my darling’. He refuses to call me ‘Theia’. Did I tell you that?” Rana shakes her head, and raises an eyebrow. She sips her tea so you continue. “He won’t call me ‘Theia’. When I asked him why, he told me he knew it wasn’t my real name, so he didn’t have to call me by it, and that he likes how it flusters me when he calls me ‘my dear’ or ‘my darling.” You sigh, letting it shudder through you as you pick up one of the mini cakes. You take a bite, sip your tea. “Rana I can’t take you seriously in those frames. Can you put anything else on instead?” She switches to the librarian chain ones around her neck. “So to escalate the situation because I’m apparently a glutton for punishment, I ask him what he’ll do to further fluster me when these little pet names cease to rile me up in a manner he’d intended, ask him if he’ll whisper nonsense in my ear or shower me with useless trinkets to see me flush, or if that’s too much for him to handle.”

“You didn’t!” She exclaims, and immediately flips off the imp who’s been yelling at her to shut the fuck up, doesn’t even glance his way. “What did he say to that?”

“That’s when he leans in so close I can feel his body heat. We were already walking arm in arm at this point, so it wasn’t far, but still.” You take a breath, and she leans in closer, practically halfway onto the table at this point, completely enthralled by your story. “He whispers in eye ear about how he doesn’t care for romance or love, that he believes it’s all a waste of time, and that he doesn’t give gifts, but if he did, they’d be the most interesting, captivating, useful items I’ve ever owned, that if he’d decided to woo me, I’d be ‘smitten, drunk, obsessed, addicted’ and that I’d crave to spend every waking moment with him.” You drink your tea, and don’t bother to hide your flush. “And then he told me he’d tell me that he doesn’t love me, that he never has, and he never will.” You grimace.

“That bastard. Of course he would!” She exclaims again, finger already raised in the objector’s direction as she does so. “What did you do then?”

“I didn’t have time to react before he declared that we were there at the restaurant. I was so deep in thought I didn’t even realize where we were until we were already sitting down in a secluded booth. So there we are, sitting only a foot or two apart from each other in one of the nicest restaurants in all of Hell. There’s a candle on the table, and all the couples around us are looking into each other’s eyes, smitten with each other. I can’t help but wonder eye he’s doing this. Surely he knows this place is for couples? I ask him why he decided on this place, and he says something about any excuse to try a new place with a lovely lady?” You raise your hands to emphasize your shrug, then finish off the mini-cake. “So I drop the subject for the moment. The waiter offers blood wine for the table. He accepts it, and I barely manage to not down an entire glass as soon as it’s in my hands, I’m so nervous. Then we order. I’m punning up a storm, of course, to try and keep myself calm. It’s not working, and he starts punning back. The worst part is, it’s not my puns that help me calm down. It’s his.” You emphasize this by picking up one of the sandwiches and biting into it. “So I decide fine, I’ll let myself relax. He can’t win if I decide to relax on my own, right?” You sip your tea, not buying your own product you’re trying to sell. “So we start chatting. He says he wants to know about me, and I tell him that I won’t share anything about myself if he won’t talk about himself.”

“Fair, fair.” Rana nods. She picks up one of the cookies and starts to nibble. “So, how did he take that?”

“The usual response. Denial that he had anything to share, that what I see is who he is. I called him out on it, of course. I rattled off all this knowledge I’ve acquired about him from all the time I’ve spent watching him and listening to others talk about their encounters with him. I point out that all the things about him that he lets the world see are just the mere surface traits, that if he wants to understand more of me, that I’ll need more from him. Seeing my point, he concedes, and asks what kind of peek into his real life I had in mind. So I tell him I want to see inside his radio tower.”

“Ooh, bold move. How’d that go?” Rana asks as she finishes her cookie and reaches for a sandwich.

“Well, my soup just arrived, so I made sure to emphasize that we’d finish our meal and still go to see Rosie as planned, that we would go see his radio tower afterwards, and in exchange, he could ask me a question, that if I didn’t like the one he asked, I’d let him pick another. He liked the idea, tried to make a deal with me over it. I couldn’t help but laugh. A deal, over such a trifle thing? I might have talked smug about how everyone warns others about deals with the Radio Demon but they never warn them about deals with me. I didn’t elaborate because his venison dish arrived, along with my main course. So I of course I get distracted. The soup was good, sure, but the grilled eyeballs? Marvelous. They had tapetum, Rana! Tapetum! While I’m experiencing the closest thing to Heaven I’ll ever get to witness, I see he’s enjoying his meal too. He catches me staring and offers me a bite.”

“Really?” She raises an eyebrow again. “He likes his food raw, right? Did you try it?”

You blush as you nod. “He cut a piece and held the fork up for me to bite off of, and it was surprisingly good. Not usually to my tastes, of course, as I prefer mine cooked, but full of flavor and the texture was interesting. So…then I offered him some of mine, and he tried it too, wrapped his stupid tongue all the way around it before he ate it. Told me it wasn’t spicy enough for his liking, and that he should make me his Jambalaya some time.”

“He said he wants to cook for you?” Rana is causing all sorts of a ruckus. You’re lucky this is Hell, and Imp City at that.

“He said it was his mother’s recipe. So I latch onto that. I say that he loves his mother very much. This led to him asking about my relationship with my mother.”

Rana raises an eyebrow. “So what did you say?”

“As little as I could. Told him that my mother wanted what was best for me, even if her actions didn’t always match her words, that she didn’t get along with Dad much but that Dad’s word’s law. I deflected and mentioned that it was basically the average family dynamic, then turned it back on him, focusing on how I suspected that he was an only child, raised by his mother. He was surprised by that, of course, asked me if I was a psychiatrist when I was alive.” You laugh, amused. Rana laughs too. “I told him that it doesn’t take a psychiatric degree to be observant, that he acts like an only child, and that part of the reason I act the way I do is because of my three younger siblings. He made some comment about how my parents were awfully busy, which I think was the closest to a sex joke I think he’s ever made? I elaborated to explain that while my dad was desperate for a son, he ended up with three girls before Mom got pregnant with my younger brother, and that my family was always a little archaic. Then I focused back on him, that he was never married, that he was a bachelor, and that his mother was always begging for him to settle down with some pretty girl but he’d had no interest in anyone of any kind in life or in death. He was surprised by this too, of course. I told him that just because I didn’t live in the time when he was alive doesn’t mean that I’m not aware of what the expectations for people back then were, and that it was just expected for him to marry and have children, even though he never did.” You sip your tea.

“So what did he say to that?” Rana asks, hands cupping her chin, tail swishing with intrigue.

“He asked me if I was ever married. I told him no, that I’d run from an arranged marriage.” You sip your tea and let one of the eyeballs fall into your mouth.

Rana is mid-sip when you say this. She spits half of her mouthful out, and it nearly hits the tray of food. “You told him about Lloyd?!”

You shush her emphatically. “Not by frame! I managed to get the subject to drop because the waiter came by to ask us if we wanted dessert. He told the waiter no, that we were going to get dinner elsewhere, and requested the check. So…I told the waiter to get two checks.”

“You didn’t.” Rana looks amused.

“Of course I did. I told him that if he didn’t let me split the check I’d tell Rosie he took me on a date. So of course he’s all guarded, and tries to negotiate, tells me that I won’t tell Rosie about our meal and that I have to pay for the next one we share together.” You sip your tea and snag one of the cookies. “I ask him what’s stopping me from telling her anyway, and he says that he’ll order the eyeball pudding and I’ll pay for the next meal if I won’t tell her. So I tell him that I’ll pay for the next meal we eat together, he orders the eyeball pudding, and I get to tell Rosie we ate together but don’t say where. The eyeball pudding was quite delicious.”

“You devious little minx! So then what happened after Tourniquet?” Rana asks as she polishes off a mini cake.

“Well, Rosie could tell we smelled like fancy food and wine as soon as she got a whiff of us, so she immediately suspected we were on a date. I tried to brush it off, but it was hard to with her. She can be rather persistent, after all. So then Alastor asks me what I wanted for my shopping, but he calls me ‘Theia’. I give him a strange look, but don’t say anything. I’m a good sport after all, and as much as I’d like to tease him about him finally choosing to call me by what I’ve been practically begging him to call me, I really want to see inside his radio tower. So I explain to Rosie that I was just hoping for another jar. She tells me she doesn’t have any more, but that I can see what else she has while she waits for another to come in next week. As I’m looking at the options, Alastor decides he’s going to tell Niffty, the maid of the hotel and a new friend of mine, to move my room in the hotel to one with a suite, so I’ll have my own kitchen to cook in. Then he summons Niffty and tells her to move all of my things into the new suite. Niffty then looks at me and asks about the subspace portal.”

“The maid knows about your subspace portal?! And now he knows about your subspace portal too?!” Rana practically shrieks.

You shush her again. “It’s one of eye minor powers, Rana. It’s fine. Niffty found out because she was scurrying through the vents and saw my hand going into the jar. She thought I was a thief. So I explained that I use it to have better access to my eyeballs. I explained to Alastor that it’s a minor ability of mine and that I only have the one and that I’m quite comfortable with it, that I would probably have more if I had more souls, but that I’m comfortable with how many I have and have no intention of becoming an overlord someday, despite what Vox might say.”

“Ooh, bringing up his rival. Don’t let me forget to ask you how that’s going, by the way,” Rana pokes you in the side. You wiggle away a second too late, “but sticking with the current story, how did he handle it?”“

“There’s nothing to tell about Vox, Rana. We fuck when he can’t get Tino to put out. Which happened to be a few days ago. I left a note covered in eyes on his desk and he put it next to his monitors so now I can see into his office while he’s hooked up to his display.” You shrug, and Rana widens her eyes and her smile is manic with glee. “As for how Al reacted, he accidently slipped and called me ‘darling’ instead of ‘Theia’ in front of Rosie, who immediately jumped further to the conclusion that we were on a date, and he knew there was nothing he could do to deny it, that it would only make it worse. So then he asks me if I’ve decided what I want to order and when I say no, that he’d been so eager to move me into a suite with a kitchen, that I hadn’t had a chance to decide, he insists that I get one of everything and then graciously allows me to pay for my own food, but only if I cook and share a meal with him. I get snippy at first of course. How dare he allow me to pay for my own food, and I have to cook? But then I realize, if I pay for this food and cook him a meal, it will count for the meal he also wants me to pay for next time. So I agree. I pay, and we leave Rosie’s.”

“So then what happened at the radio tower? What questions did he ask?” Rana asks as she sips her tea.

“I’ll get there. There’s more first. So we’re walking back to the hotel, and I’m stupidly infatuated. I have a problem, Rana, and my problem is stupidly tall attractive sinners who have no interest in me beyond my secrets. I want them to like me for more than what knowledge and abilities I have, apparently, and it’s going to get me in trouble someday. My idiot brain starts imagining what it would be like to kiss him, and then I’m realizing that he wouldn’t want me to kiss him, and then he notices that I’m thinking too hard and asks me what I was thinking about. I don’t answer him, determined to change the subject, when I notice the most beautiful knife I’ve ever seen in all of my existence in a shop window.” You pull out the knife for Rana to see. “I wore it and the belt it came with today. I take it with me everywhere now. Pure angelic steel, genuine Carmine, and look at it, Rana. It’s like it was made for me.”

“It’s a magnificent blade, and it certainly suits you. So what did he want in return for it?” She asks as she polishes off another cookie.

You sheathe the blade again and reply, “He pulled me close and whispered in my ear that he wanted to watch me tear apart its first victim in front of him.” You shudder, blushing at the thought.

“Theia don’t get horny in front of me. That’s just plain gross and rude. You know my love life is dry right now.” Rana shoots you a half-hearted glare.

You just roll all of your eyes at her. “That’s your problem, Rana. There are plenty of imps and other species out there who you could consider sparking up a relationship with.”

“And when would I find the time for that in between managing the imbecilic behavior of my boss and the rest of his employees while also wrangling your souls when they get out of line, hmm?” Rana raises an eyebrow at you.

You shrug. “I suppose I’ll be in better spirits soon and I’ll consider taking the souls off your hands for you?”

“You? In charge of your own souls? That’ll end well. Not. You need me managing them.” She huffs out a laugh.

“You like having this much to do, Rana, I know you too well. You’d get bored otherwise. You could easily make time in your schedule if you found someone who sparked your interest, and I know someday you will, if you allow yourself to consider the possibility.” You place a hand over hers and squeeze it gently.

She squeezes back. “Thanks, hun. Now, tell me, what happened next?”

“So we get back to the hotel and he uses his shadows to make us appear in his radio tower. There are eyes on the lamp behind his broadcasting desk, so I can look out on him working at any time.” Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you continue. “So I take a look around the space, and he comes up and wraps an arm around my waist, just above the belt he’d just bought me. He startled me, and tells me he didn’t mean to glare me. I pun back in surprise, asking him if he’s eyeing to peep me off my feet. He asks me if it’s working, and I ask him if that’s really the question he’s going to ask me. So then…he asks me what my powers are that Vox finds so intriguing. So I glass, of course. No thanks. So then…he asks me what I was thinking before when I pointedly refused to answer him when he asked.”

“When you were thinking about kissing him? What did you say?!” Rana squeezes your hand so hard it hurts for a second. You’ll never get over how surprisingly strong she is.

“I told him that I think he’s quite good looking when he’s smiling genuinely, which is the other half of what I was thinking at the time. So not a lie.” You sip your tea.

“He didn’t buy that.” She states, as if she’d been there. She’s known you for so long that it’s easy to understand all the little nuances in your expressions.

“No, he didn’t.” You agree. “He asked me if I was considering kissing him.”

“OH MY GOD DID YOU GUYS KISS?!” She screams, startling the other patrons. You’ve never been more grateful that you’re outside.

You shush her even louder. “No of course not! Rana, he asked me with disdain, not affection! He was doing all of this to get me to tell him eye secrets, and I fell for it! So I let him have an earful instead, going off on him about how he didn’t have to pretend to woo me to get access to my secrets, that I would have been more than willing to make a deal with him to know what I could tell him, in exchange that he would never be able to tell anyone or write down the knowledge that I’d given him, if he had something worth my time in trade. I told him that now he’d never know, that someday I’d tell someone, and the only way he’d ever find out was if all of Hell itself knew, and by then he’d be unable to use any of it to his advantage. I decided to keep the knife and the rooms, despite the intent he’d put behind them. He moved me to the suite right next to his, by the way.” You huff. “I said I’d keep my promise to share a meal with him, but that I’d cook and we’d eat a single meal together.” You sigh, then stare into your mug. “That’s not even all of it.”

“There’s more? Well, what are you waiting for, Theia? Tell me!” Rana is back to that death grip on your fingers.

You try not to wince. “So I got drunk last night because of what happened. There’s a bar in the lobby of the hotel, and the bartender is the former gambling overlord, Husk? Apparently Alastor owns his soul now. Anyway, Husk and I have a bit of an understanding after Charlie and I paired us together for a bonding exercise. Angel was there too. We’re not close yet but after all he’s been through I’m hoping we’ll be friends someday.”

“Angel?” Rana raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, right, my bad. Angel Dust, Tino’s soul contracted employee?” You sip your tea and chew and swallow the second eyeball.

The plate is empty so the two of you are just staring at each other, fiddling with your empty teacups. “He got away from Vee Tower? Good for him!” She smiles happily. She knows about the mistreatment you’ve witnessed through the eyes in Tino’s studio.

“So I told Husk and Angel about what Alastor tried to pull with me. I tell them both about how I got to make Alastor uncomfortable when I told him that I fuck Vox sometimes–”

“–way to bury the lead!”

“And then I thanked Angel for leaving Vee Tower and pissing Tino off so I could get laid–”

“Why do you always leave the best parts out until last?!”

“Who’s telling this story, me or you, Rana?”

“You.”

“Thank you. So then I get wasted. Completely sloshed. Had way too much to drink. I carry one up the stairs with me as I go, and I know I’ve probably had too much and that it’s going to be a very long walk up to the top of the building. And I run into Alastor. I am my usual drunk self.”

“Swaying heavily and punning nonstop, yes.” Rana nods.

“He is the perfect gentleman, picks me up as I fall, and I pass out.” You smile, fiddle with your teacup.

“You did that weird thing where you look through the eyes around you when you get passed out drunk didn’t you.” Rana leans in further, positively intrigued.

“Yep.” You pop the ‘p’ as you emphasize it. “He had Niffty dress me in my nightgown while he wrote me a note. He wrote two, put one by my bedside, and one in the trash under my desk. He also came and sat beside me, brushed my hair off my face, apolog-eyes-d for not telling me what all of his intentions were, and then told me that I captivate him?”

Rana practically screams again. It’s unintelligible.

“At first when I woke up, I thought the part I saw in my passed-out-seeing-through-the-eyes-in-the-walls state was a dream, but then I noticed that my room mirrored what I saw.”

“So what did the note say?” Rana asks curiously.

You pull the notes from out of your pocket to hand them to her. “Tell me what you think.”

With speed, she is done in only a minute or two. She’s always been an incredibly fast reader. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT THEIA, HE LIKES YOU!” She screams. You snatch the notes back from her, fold them back up, and slip them back into your non-subspace pocket.

“I mean I know I intrigue him, but—”

“No buts, Thiea! C’mon, ‘You captivate me?’ The way he wanted to call you pet names even when you told him he didn’t have to in order to learn your secrets? The way he said he wanted to explain his true intentions? The way he wrote about discussing your future together? AT BARE MINIMUM HE LIKES YOU.”

“Enough of this bullshit.” A voice you don’t recognize cuts in, and next to Rana stands the tallest imp you’ve ever seen. “You gonna fuckin’ introduce us or what, Rana?”

Rana glances next to her at the imp who she’d been flipping off this whole time. “Oh finally decided to join us instead of just spying from over there, huh, boss? Good. Theia, this is Blitzø, my boss. Blitzø, this is Theia, The Demon of a Thousand Eyes.”

“The ø is silent.” He says, which confuses you for a moment, but he barrels on as if he hadn’t said anything. “Well, shit, I’d say you’ve got less than a thousand. Why do they call you that?” Blitzø smirks.

You smirk back. “Piss me off and find out.” You flash all of your eyes red for a moment.

He laughs. “How the fuck do you two get along? Little miss buttoned up over here wouldn’t even flip me off or drop a swear when we first fuckin’ met.”

You shrug. “I tend to keep the swearing to a minimum myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t drop one now and again. Rana’s mentioned you before, though, says you love to get into trouble and chaos. Sounds like a fun time. She never mentioned what you do, though. Always so tight-lipped about work, this one.”

Blitzø rolls his eyes. “That does sound like Rana. Wouldn’t even fuckin’ tell me why she was headed all the way over here so I had to tail her and find out for myself.” He takes a chair from a nearby table without asking and sits in between the two of you. “I run I.M.P. You might have heard the commercials?”

“Immediate Murder Professionals? That’s your gig? Color me impressed. I don’t have any beef with anyone alive but I appreciate your work. Rana, eye didn’t you tell me you were working for I.M.P.? I’m happy you’re helping with freelancing.”

“You’ve got enough on your plate, Theia. Why would I want you to worry?” Rana looks nervous.

“Wait, I thought view were their secretary. Are you going topside too?” You look between her and Blitzø, who can’t pull a poker face to save his life. “You are? You’re killing humans? Damn, girl, good for you! I never thought you’d have it in you!”

“Wait, you’re…okay with this?” Rana asks carefully.

“Okay? I’m thrilled. You need to loosen up a bit more, get out of your shell. Hell, maybe you’ll finally meet someone because of it, who knows?” You grin at her. “Now of course, be fuckin’ careful.” You turn to Blitzø. “If she so much as loses a hair because of some stunt you pulled, I will rip your eyes from your skull and eat them in front of your family.” You flash your eyes red and let a silhouette of your tentacles emerge from your back. The thousand eyes blink at him threateningly. You let them retreat.

“Thousand eyes. Fuck, now I see it.” He gulps. “Course. Nothin’ will happen to her. M&M do most of the work anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow. “M&M?”

“Moxie and Millie.” Rana explains easily. “They’re Boss’s other two employees.”

“Hm, okay then, now the nickname makes sense.” You smile, then catch the time from the clock on the wall. “Well, I’ve got to be going. I have shopping to do and a roast to make.”

“You’re going to make him a roast?” Rana smirks and narrows her eyes. “You like him too.”

“You knew that already.” You point out as you shrug and stand.

“Making a roast means something, though, Theia, especially to someone as old fashioned as himself. It’s practically a ‘see how good of a wife I can be for you’.” She smirks harder.

You freeze, a blush coloring your entire face. “Fuck, no wonder Niffty said I should make a roast. I should have known she was plotting something!”

“Wait, the maid suggested you make a roast?” Rana asks, perplexed. Blitzø just watches you ping pong dialogue back and forth.

“Stop calling her that. She’s more than just the maid, especially to me. She’s a friend.” You smile weakly. “She told me the same thing, that he likes me. She knew I made a promise to make him a meal and suggested the roast.”

“She sounds like a great friend, and she clearly knows him well, too. Go make that roast and go get him, Theia. You’ll get your man yet.” Rana grins manically at you.

“I still don’t—” You try to argue, but she cuts you off again.

“—Just go!” She shouts, and stands to shove you. “I have to get back to work and you have a roast to prepare!”

You nod, chuckle, and wave. “It was nice to meet you, Blitzø. Remember what I said about keeping her safe.” You flash your eyes red once more.

You notice he gulps again, this time quieter. “Nice meetin’ you too, Theia, even if it did take fuckin’ forever. Good luck with your man or whatever.”

“Don’t you start, view.” You roll your eyes. “You don’t even know what you’re getting into.”

“Sounds like you want him to get into you though.” He smirks at you.

You roll your eyes harder, but can’t help but smirk back at him, and give another wave. “Funny, but I don’t know what I want.”

You walk down the street back the way you came, and walk into the once again empty alley. You close your eyes, open the ones in Hell, make sure no one is around to observe you, and then manifest a block away from Cannibal Town. You have some deer sinner meat to acquire and a roast to make.

A/N: THAT'S RIGHT RANA WORKS FOR I.M.P.! I had so much fun writing for Blitzø. I *adore* him so much and love Helluva Boss, so of course I'm working to incorporate it into this story! I hope you all like Rana too. She's a sweetie and a fun character to shake things up a bit. If you want to see a glimpse of what she looks like in this chapter (minus any of the glasses; the picrew didn't have eyewear as an option, the *heathens*), you can see it on Theia's Tumblr: the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes.

So Chapter 13 will be Theia meeting with Rosie again (after Rosie straight up gatekeeps her from her sinner meat unless she has a talk with her about what happened in the radio tower with Al the other night, because of course they've talked already) and then discussing with the rest of the residents of the hotel about your plans to have dinner with Al the next evening (much to some of their amusement and others' alarm).

First || Chapter 11 || Chapter 13

#the demon of a thousand eyes #theia #demon of a thousand eyes #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel oc #eye #eyes #eye puns #eye puns as a coping mechanism

3 notes · View notes

the-cult-of-russo · 1 year

Text

Poetic Tragedy (Part 11)

Pairing: Reader X Billy Russo

Warnings: Cursing, angst, sadness, substance abuse, mental health issues, mentions of sexual assault. This one’s a little dark and not really in a violent way (okay some of it is lmao). Just more the themes explored, I guess?

A/N: There’s one more chapter after this one! I hope you guys have enjoyed this story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!!

—------------------

“Here you go, Tom,” you smiled brightly, handing the Agent his coffee and donut as you walked into the room.

“Thanks, Allie,” he grinned, taking them gratefully before he handed you a magazine. It had been eight days since you started coming here and Billy still hadn’t woken up yet. You’d been buttering up the Agent, needing his trust for your plan to work. You’d figured out a way to get him out of the way when go time happened, because even though Billy still hadn't woken up there was no possibility in your mind that he wouldn't, and you needed him to trust you for it to work. You’d run your idea by Frank and he’d been impressed by it, and with his go-ahead, you’d started to work on getting the Agent on your side. Micro had found out some things about him. He came from a big family, loved sports and for some weird reason, had a thing for single moms. You’d carefully crafted a backstory for Allison White that was wildly different to your own, using some of this information to help your cause. You were the youngest of five kids to happily married parents. You always wanted a big family and ended up marrying your high school sweetheart when you were 18. By 20, you had two kids already. Only a year later, the asshole cheated on you and left you and the kids in the wind for the new woman. You’d been alone with the children since and worked hard to make ends meet. You were in the process of changing jobs but it had been hard to find one, so while you were between jobs, not wanting to sit around and do nothing, you decided to sign up to volunteer with Happy Helper Buddies. Your kids were staying for a month with their grandparents as your mom was sick and wanted to spend some time with them before it was too late. Another reason why you signed up to volunteer as the house felt so alone and quiet without them. He’d eaten all of it right up and you had him eating out of the palm of your hand. Now you were both on a first name basis, or more accurately, nickname basis. You brought him coffee and a donut every morning and he’d give you a magazine as a trade off.

You’d never read a magazine in your life and at first, you’d been confused why everyone was obsessed with these celebrities and their eating habits or shampoo. But after finding out you weren't too into celebrities, Agent Delaney had started getting you more lifestyle and dating-related ones and it was a little better. Being as sheltered from the world as you had been, you didn't know much of anything, much less relationships. So you’d read all the articles and the people writing in to the agony aunt section and found you learned a lot of shit. Mostly that you might actually have feelings for Billy more than a friend. You’d been clueless, not ever having a relationship before. Hell, you hadn't even had friends. And your only sexual experience had been your assault and then just you laying there wishing you were anywhere but there as Josh used you so you could get your fix. You had no idea about why your heart would race around Billy, or why your stomach would feel funny when he smiled at you or touched you. But now you had a feeling that it was because you liked him more than a friend. You didn't really know what to do with that information though, even if Frank had told you Billy felt that way too. It was hard to believe that someone like Billy would be interested in a homeless ex-addict, it didn't really make sense in your head. So while you knew now why Billy made you feel weird and why you liked his physical affections, you decided it wasn't important.

You moved to sit in the chair you’d claimed as your own, eyes glancing to Billy who didn't seem much different to the first day you’d gotten here. Some of his color had come back into his cheeks and you hoped it was a good sign. You’d really settled in here, a wolf among sheep. Even the doctors and nurses chatted with you as you charmed them with a smile and kind words. The nurses even let you use their shower facilities they had after you told them a bullshit story about your plumbing not working right.

“How are the kids?” Tom asked, making you glance up from your magazine. Some of the articles were like mini real soap operas and you often found yourself getting sucked into them.

“They're doing good, spoke to them last night on the phone. They're having fun with grandma and pop-pops,” you grinned, rolling your eyes good-naturedly and making him chuckle.

“I bet you can't wait for them to come back,” he mused. You didn't know if he was genuinely interested or just hoping to score points with you since you knew he liked single moms. You still didn't understand why.

“I know, I miss them so much. It's not the same without them here,” you murmured softly. It felt like time flew before you were once again leaving and on your way to the alley, another day where Billy was yet to wake up. You’d found out through talking to the Agent that he left not long after you did and he only waited until then so you wouldn't be alone with Billy as it wasn’t ‘safe’. Before you’d been coming, he left at 10 pm. You were a little surprised to hear that Billy was left alone at night, but then again, he was cuffed to the bed so it wasn't like he was going anywhere.

The routine was always the same. You’d get to your alley and Frank would be there waiting for you and waiting for any updates, bringing food in a plastic container with him that Annie had cooked for you. You’d lied to him the first couple of days about eating at the hospital, but he soon called you out on your bullshit and started bringing you food. You didn't mind so much now, your appetite had come back after the shock wore off from what happened to Billy. You were still worried but you didn't allow your thoughts to stray into the morbid ones. You’d told yourself he would wake up and he would be fine and you would definitely get him out of there. Frank would always stay as you ate as you spoke about any new information or he just tried to make conversation. You knew he was tense over the fact Billy still hadn't woken up. It was only intensified by the fact that physically, Billy was healing quite well. This meant that when he did wake up, the window to get him out of there would be smaller and you knew for a fact that the Agent was eager to get Billy out of there as soon as possible. It would be harder now, more of a rush between him waking and getting him free. You’d do it though. Or at least, you’d do it or go to jail right along with him for trying. There was no way you’d give up without a fight.

The next morning you got ready and headed out once again, stopping at the coffee shop like you always did and getting the coffee and donut for Agent Delaney. The line was a little longer today and you were getting impatient and anxious just to get to Billy. Despite trying to keep your thoughts positive, you kept having this recurring nightmare of getting there and his bed was empty. The nurse would come in and tell you he’d died in the night. You shook off the thoughts as you finally got served and rushed to the hospital. You greeted the receptionist with a bright smile as you scanned your card and sauntered down the hallway like you’d been there forever. But when you pushed open Billy’s door, you were startled to see he was sitting up and very much awake. It felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you blinked at him and he turned to you, visible confusion all over his tired-looking face as his dark eyes quickly swept over you and your current attire.

“Mr Russo, you’re awake,” you smiled, the relief in your voice very real. Billy didn't say anything, just giving you this scrutinizing look.

“Don’t mind him, he hadn't said one word since he woke up,” Agent Delaney huffed. You turned to him then, forgetting he was even there. Facade back in place, you smiled at him, walking over and handing him the coffee and donut and gratefully taking the magazine.

“Thanks, Allie,” he grinned. You moved to set your magazine down on the table before you hovered at the foot of Billy’s bed.

“I’m Allison White, Mr Russo. I’m from Happy Helper Buddies and I’ve been assigned to be your buddy,” you explained softly, tapping the badge around your neck. His dark eyes drifted to it as he swallowed thickly with a nod. You still weren't quite sure what his mental state was or if there was any damage. Didn't know if he was catching on to your plan or if he didn't even recognise you.

“It’s Billy,” he muttered after a long moment, his voice sounding hoarse and raw.

“Seriously? You're gonna talk to her?” Agent Delaney scoffed, almost sounding like a petulant child. You almost whipped your head around to glare at him and your right eye twitched at the sheer restraint it took you not to. Billy had no such qualms though as his narrowed eyes glared daggers at the man in the chair and he had the good grace to avert his eyes from Billy’s scornful gaze.

“Can I get you anything, Billy? Some water?” you asked as your eyes darted over all of him, trying to figure out if he was okay.

“Water would be good,” he answered quietly. You nodded, rushing from the room quickly. Had he even been offered a drink since he’d woken up? There was a little water cooler right outside of the door and you grabbed a plastic cup and started to fill it.

“Really, Russo?” you heard the Agent ask from inside the room, he was met with stony silence though.

“You think I didn’t see the way you looked at her? You think she’d be interested in a piece of shit criminal like you? I mean, look at your face, man,” the Agent snorted. The plastic cup suddenly crumpled as your hand tightened like a vice around it, the water splooshing right out of it. You felt some curious eyes on you but you blew out a breath, trying to not get angry and blow your cover here. You tossed the useless cup into the trash before quickly filling another.

You breezed back into the room, trying to give Billy a reassuring smile as you approached the side of his bed.

“Don’t get too close,” the Agent warned and you turned and gave him an incredulous look.

“He’s handcuffed to the bed, how’s he supposed to drink?” you asked with a short tone. The Agent looked away for a moment and sighed.

“He’s not safe to be around,” he replied tensely.

“I don’t think we’re gonna have a problem, are we Billy?” you turned your eyes to Billy then.

“Nope,” he shot the Agent a dark smirk that you knew wasn't really helping the situation.

“Allie…” The Agent started, but you cut him right off, getting fed up with his bullshit.

“He can’t look after himself while he’s restrained like this. I’m here to do a job, Tom, so I’m going to politely ask you to let me do it,” you sighed, trying not to snap at him because it would only make you look suspicious. You knew he was only trying to look after you given he’d taken a shine to you, but you really couldn't care less about him. He shrugged as he shook his head, gesturing for you to go ahead and you turned back to Billy then who was looking between you and the Agent with dark eyes. You held the cup to his mouth and helped him drink and he did so greedily, the water gone in seconds.

“You want some more?” you asked softly and he shook his head, hands flexing a little by his sides.

“How are you feeling?” you asked curiously, toying with your hands in front of you for a moment. He shrugged, not looking at you and you didn't like the lack of verbal responses from him. You still had no idea if he even knew who you were.

“Can I get you anything? Some more pillows? Or… do you need me to ask the nurse for some more pain meds?” you asked. You just wanted to help him, ease any discomfort he was feeling.

“No… No thanks,” he muttered and you nodded.

“Okay, well… I’ll be right there if you need me. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask,” you murmured, gesturing to your chair. His eyes met yours then and your heart kicked up in your chest. But he didn't show any signs of even recognising you before he looked away with a sniff. You sighed and moved to sit in your chair, grabbing your magazine to keep you busy.

It was in the afternoon that the doctor came in, a chart in his hands.

“Well, Mr Russo, all of the tests we ran came back fine. Honestly, I was a little worried there for a second but you seem perfectly fine,” the doctor smiled at Billy who was staring at his lap. You felt lightheaded from the relief of his words but the feeling was short-lived as Agent Delaney spoke up.

“So does that mean he’s free to go?” he asked, far too eager for your liking and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from snapping at him. The doctor turned to look at him then with a slightly disapproving look on his face.

“Not yet. I want to keep him in for a few more days just to make sure,” he answered, making the Agent sag in his seat a little. You felt a jolt of panic seize you then, you really wouldn't have long. The doctor left not long after and Tom smirked at Billy.

“You hear that, Russo? A few days and you’ll be all mine,” he grinned maliciously.

“Tom!” you chided, frowning at him.

“What?” he scoffed, but the look you shot him made him shift in his seat uncomfortably. You heard him muttering something about you being too soft under his breath but you chose to ignore it.

When dinnertime rolled around, with it being the first day that Billy was awake, it was the first time someone had come to bring him a meal. You jumped out of the chair, grabbing the tray from the woman with a warm smile before walking over to Billy.

“I ain’t eatin’ that,” he muttered tensely.

“You need to get your strength up, Billy,” you warned, giving him a look. And you meant it too. You had to get him out of here and soon. He’d been unconscious for 9 days and he really needed to eat something.

“You’re not feedin’ me like a goddamn baby,” he huffed, glaring at you. Your eyes narrowed to slits as you pursed your lips.

“You can’t exactly feed yourself right now and unless you’re planning on slamming your face into the food and hoping some goes in your mouth, you don’t really have a choice. I’m here to look after you so you’re going to let me,” you bit out firmly. He blinked at you for a long moment and you knew now that he did indeed know who you were so you didn't care about the heated look he was getting from you. You wouldn't budge from this.

“Fine,” he muttered, looking away from you. You tried to make each forkful of food large enough that it would be over with quickly. You knew it was his pride getting in the way and you wondered how different it might have been if the asshole Agent hadn't been in the room, watching with a sick satisfaction over the whole thing. Billy wouldn't look at you though and once you were done, you set the tray on the bedside table before moving back over to your chair.

Billy didn’t utter another word then as time ticked on but luckily, neither did the Agent unless it was to try and make small talk with you. You were just grateful he was leaving Billy alone. When it got time to leave, you really didn't want to now Billy was awake. You hadn't even had a chance to let him know there was a plan in place to get him out of here since you hadn't even had a moment alone with him. You knew Agent Delaney had no qualms with using the restroom that was in the room as he’d done it before, but since Billy was awake it was like he was refusing to so you wouldn't be alone with him. You wondered how he hadn't pissed himself by now. When you stood up, grabbing the cardigan you’d taken off at some point and putting it back on, Billy’s dark eyes snapped to you.

“You leavin’?” he asked, eyes narrowed a little and a slightly panicked edge to his voice that only made you want to stay even more.

“My shift ends at 11, but I’ll be back in the morning,” you said with a soothing smile. He nodded, a small frown on his face as he avoided looking at you once more. You wondered what he thought about you being here, if he put together that there was a plan or if he thought you’d just snuck in to check on him. You left feeling heavier than before now you had to leave him behind but you couldn't wait to tell Frank he was awake. It was time to enact the plan and you had to do it quickly. The doctor had said a few days and for all you knew, that could be two or five, you really had no idea. And now the Agent knew he was okay, you wouldn't put it past him to use his authority to demand he get let out early. You felt anxiety eating at you as you walked to the alley you were staying in. You really hoped your plan worked.

The next day, your hands shook as you made your way into the hospital restrooms on the first floor, hurrying into the cubicle and locking the door behind you. You dropped the duffel bag you had with you to the floor and took the lid off the coffee cup, setting the cup on the closed toilet lid before grabbing a bag from your cardigan pocket. You glanced at it, trying to ignore how it looked a lot like something else. It wasn't that though, it was crushed sleeping pills and strong ones at that. You poured the power into the coffee and used the little wooden stirrer you’d taken from the coffee shop to stir it until it dissolved. You hoped it wouldn't taste much different but you weren't about to take a sip to find out. You took a shaky inhale as you put the lid back on, taking a moment to gather yourself before you grabbed the bag and left the restroom, making your way your way to the elevator. Your heart had been pounding since you woke up. You weren't built for this kind of shit but you were doing it for Billy. You plastered a fake and bright smile on your face as you scanned your ID card and made your way into Billy’s room.

“Morning, Tom,” you grinned, handing him his coffee and donut. You looked away as he took a sip, wondering how much he’d have to drink before it started to work. You honestly had no idea.

“Morning, Allie. Here you go,” he smiled back, handing you the magazine. Billy’s dark eyes were narrowed at the man but went to you as you approached the bed.

“You need anything?” you asked, giving him a smile despite your nerves. You had a feeling he knew something was off though as his eyes searched your face.

“Nah, I’m good thanks,” he replied with a shake of his head. You nodded, making your way over to sit down with your magazine as you tried your best to conceal your shaky hands.

“You got plans after your shift?” Tom asked, his eyes going to the bag at the side of you.

“Oh… I was thinking of staying at my parents, get to see the kids, you know?” you smiled sheepishly, not missing how Billy suddenly looked at you like you’d grown another head.

“Ah, I get it. Can’t wait for them to come back so you’re going to them, right?” Tom chuckled and you smiled and glanced back at your magazine.

It was only minutes later when the coffee cup hit the floor with a splash, the lid popping off it and the coffee spilling all over the floor. The cup was joined by the Agent who hit the floor with a thud and you winced. You thought he’d just slump in his chair, not fall right off it.

“Wha-” Billy started, sounding confused.

“No time,” you bit out, jumping to your feet and crouching near Agent Delaney. You searched his pockets, smirking to yourself when you found the handcuff keys. You sprang back up, rushing to Billy whose eyes were rapidly flitting from the man to you.

“We’re getting you out of here,” you murmured, quickly ridding him of his cuffs. He rubbed his wrists as he moved to sit up carefully with a groan.

“You shouldn't be doin’ this,” he muttered tensely. You knew he was worried about you being involved, worried you might get in trouble.

“Well I am, so get the fuck up,” you shot him a look before you grabbed the bag from the floor and set it on the bed when Billy stood on shaky legs. You rummaged around, grabbing the black sweats, black t-shirt, his hoodie and some sneakers. You handed them to him before you rushed over to the door, cracking it open a little as you peered out of it. It was pretty quiet as it always was at this time, but there was one person you had to worry about. You hurried back over to him just as he was pulling his t-shirt on carefully and you got a glimpse of the four bandaged wounds on his torso. You had no idea how he was shot so many times and came out of it fine. You looked in the bag again and grabbed the knife out of it and Billy’s eyes widened a little. You paid him no mind, slicing your palm with a wince. It was only a small cut, not very long and not very deep.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” he hissed quietly at you, looking at you like you were insane.

“I’m gonna distract the receptionist. You need to hurry up, meet me in the stairwell,” you muttered, cradling your now bleeding hand. You didn't give him a chance to argue as you left the room, quickly shutting the door behind you.

You made a beeline for the reception desk and as she looked at you, her eyes grew a little larger.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she asked, standing up.

“I dropped the vase and tried to pick up the pieces, I’m a bit of a klutz. Any chance you got some of those large bandaids handy?” you asked, giving her a sheepish smile.

“I’ll go check,” she said as she hurried into the little admin office behind her desk. You glanced around nervously and your heart skyrocketed when Billy slipped out of the room, his hoodie now on and the bag in his hand. His hood was up as he rushed down the hallway, glancing at you briefly before he made his way to the stairs. You shifted on your feet wanting nothing more than to hurry after him, but you knew it would look too suspicious. You didn't want to draw attention just yet. Whatever happened after you were gone didn't really matter. You’d used a fake name, no one knew who you were. The receptionist came out then with a furrowed brow.

“I’m sorry, I couldn't find any. Do you want me to find a doctor?” she asked, full of concern.

“No, that's fine, it’s not too deep anyway. I’ll just grab some toilet paper and see how it goes,” you shot her a wry smile before heading off into the direction of the toilets, only to rush to the stairs instead. You hurried down a flight, seeing Billy pacing.

“We need to go, Frank’s waiting,” you insisted, hurrying down the steps. He nodded, quickly handing you some paper towel he must have swiped from his room. You took it gratefully and pressed it to your hand as the pair of you all but ran down the stairs. When you got to the bottom, you slowed your pace so you didn't draw attention, Billy’s head down as both of you quickly left the hospital. You walked down the street a little, spying the black van on the corner like you knew it would be. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest though, half expecting the Agent to come barreling after you. You ran to the van, Billy opening the back doors as you both hopped in. He slammed the door shut then and the van started to drive away.

“About goddamn time, Bill,” Frank grinned from the front, glancing over his shoulder at him.

“Was thinkin’ the same thing. Thought you were gonna let me rot in jail, Frankie,” Billy murmured, a tired smirk on his face as he held his body tightly. You knew he was hurting.

“Considered it. But who the fuck would I beat the shit out of when I get bored?” Frank snorted, making Billy smile to himself. You heard the relief in Frank’s voice though.

“You alright there, Allie?” Frank asked you then, a smirk curling his lips.

“Fuck you, I’m having a minor heart attack here,” you practically whined, a hand over your chest as it almost beat out of your chest. Stealing you were fine with, dosing a Federal Agent and smuggling a known fugitive out of hospital not so much. The anxiety had made your head spin. But it was over now and you allowed yourself to relax against the side of the van, resting the back of your head on it. Billy was sitting opposite you and glanced at him, seeing him already blinking at you. You thought he might say something but he didn't.

When the van stopped, Billy moved to the door and swung it open, getting out slowly. His feet had barely touched the floor before Karen tackled him into a hug.

“Jesus, woman. I’m injured, remember?” Billy grumbled, although he didn't sound too mad.

“I don’t care,” she sniffled, face pressed into his chest. You watched as you got out of the van as he brought his arms around her and hugged her back, holding her for a long moment. When she pulled away from him, she turned her teary eyes to you then.

“And you… we couldn't have done this without you,” she implored, moving to give you a tight but brief hug. You hugged her back awkwardly for a moment before she moved away, wiping her eyes.

“I’m sure you guys would have figured something out,” you murmured shyly, not looking at her and instead inspecting the cut on your hand. It had stopped bleeding already so you stuffed the bloody tissue into your pocket.

“Nah, we needed you, Y/N,” Frank argued as he stood next to you. He gave you a meaningful look and you looked away, unable to take the weight of his gaze.

“Come on, the guys are dying to see you,” Karen beamed at Billy, grabbing his hand and dragging him off inside. You trailed behind slowly, arms wrapped around yourself. You were glad to succeed in your mission but now you weren't sure what to do with yourself. When you walked in, you saw Billy get swarmed by everyone who was happy he was back and you found yourself smiling. Billy seemed to be relieved to be back, happy even, as he talked with everyone, but he also seemed exhausted. You lingered around for a bit, unsure when would be appropriate to dip out. You wanted to speak with Billy but you weren't sure what mood he was in. When you’d left last time, it had caused a fight and your time with him at the hospital had been strained but you weren't sure if he was still upset with you or if it was because of the Agent. After a while, Billy approached you.

“Could you help me to my room?” he asked softly, a pleading look to his tired eyes.

“Sure,” you answered with a small smile. You knew it was still very early but he looked like he could do with some rest. You wrapped an arm around his middle carefully and he wrapped his around your shoulder. You knew he was hurting, the whole escaping thing really not helping. But you also knew since he’d refused pain meds at the hospital, that also hadn't helped at all.

You were slow going up the stairs and it took a while getting to his room. He opened the door and let you help him inside before your arm dropped from him. You’d never been in here before and your eyes swept around quickly. It was pretty much the same as your old room except with some pictures of him and Frank from the Marine days and some with what you presumed to be Frank’s family. It was weird seeing pictures of him without the scars, you’d never known him then. You didn't think he was any less handsome though.

“You didn't need to get me out of there,” he said quietly, a small guilty frown on his face. You shrugged, nibbling your lower lip.

“I wanted to. Figured you’d helped me out so many times, it's only fair I return the favor, righ-” Your words were cut off because Billy’s lips were suddenly on yours, his hands either side of your face. It took you so wildly off guard that you tensed, standing there unresponsive. It was your first-ever kiss, it wasn't even like you had experience with that and you certainly hadn't expected Billy to want to kiss you, even with Frank and Dean’s words pinging around your brain. He pulled away quickly, his eyes wide.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head rapidly as he took a step back, hands falling from your face. You suddenly felt cold.

“Billy…” you trailed off, worried why he looked so weird.

“No, I shouldn’ta done that. I know you… you don't like to be touched and I fuckin’... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he rambled, unable to look at you.

“It didn't make me feel uncomfortable,” you admitted softly, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks. His eyes snapped to you then, scanning your face like he was trying to solve a puzzle. You’d been quite happy to ignore your revelation of feelings for him before, but now he’d kissed you, you toyed with the idea of just coming out with it. The worst that would happen would be him not speaking to you, but since he’d been the one to kiss you, you knew that was unlikely. You knew all too well that life was too short to dance around stuff like this for nothing. You’d already almost lost him once.

“I figured some shit out in the 9 days I was there with you at the hospital. I care about you… more than a friend. I didn't really get it before, I mean, I’ve never really been through this before so it didn't make sense. But I get it now, why I feel the way I do around you. Why my heart beats all weird and my stomach flips around on me,” you explained as you shifted on your feet.

“You care about me?” he asked slowly, looking so astonished like his brain couldn't quite comprehend it. You nodded and tugged on the sleeves of your cardigan, feeling small under his gaze.

“I didn't really understand it, I’m still not sure I do if I’m honest. This whole thing is new to me,” you shrugged.

He closed the distance between you as he walked back over, his hand slowly coming to rest on your cheek. He leaned down, resting his forehead on yours and you felt breathless, the free-falling sensation hitting you once again.

“I care about you too,” he admitted in a whisper. It made your heart stutter in your chest and your hand gripped the front of his t-shirt. His thumb stroked your cheek and he leaned in again, this time slower as if giving you a chance to move away. You didn't though. His lips touched yours once more and you allowed yourself to melt into him. When his lips moved against yours, you tried to mimic him, really not knowing what you should be doing. He pulled away, giving you a smile, his eyes bright as they shone at you.

“We uh… we don’t gotta rush anythin’. I know we both… we both got our issues. We can just take shit slow, see what happens,” he stroked your cheek as you smiled at him, feeling your chest fill with warmth. He pecked your lips once more before moving away. He looked ready to drop where he stood and you smiled shyly as you bit your lower lip.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you murmured softly.

“What happened to takin’ it slow?” he asked mischievously and you snorted with a roll of your eyes. You helped him sit on the bed, kneeling to take his sneakers off for him before standing back up as he lay down.

“Will you stay with me for a bit?” he asked, dark eyes pleading and you were powerless to resist him. You pulled off your boots before climbing onto the bed on the other side of him. He opened his arm out to you but you frowned.

“You’re hurt,” you protested.

“Please?” he asked softly, blinking his eyes at you. You sighed, moving over to him and being as careful as you could to try and avoid hurting him as you lay your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and both of you relaxed instantly. You weren't quite sure how this thing with Billy would go and you hoped he wouldn't get upset that it didn't mean you’d just be moving right in here. You hoped he understood you better than that by now. You’d take it slow like he said, see what happened. You were both damaged, both had a tonne of baggage. It was slightly scary to think you finally found someone to care about you like this, that you cared about him. Getting attached meant you had things to lose and you didn't think you couldn't stand to lose anything else. But the feeling also filled you with a sense of happiness at the same time. You felt like you’d finally found a home and it was with Billy.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@ariesbutalibra

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

#billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo

49 notes · View notes

mercyisms · 2 years

Text

Niche Nona liveblogging: John 20:8 - Day Three

For fun and my own future reference, and to contain as many spoilers as possible, I am liveblogging NTN but consolidating my thoughts and some lines that especially jump out at me. Yes, there will be utterly too much attention to old Lyctor lore. I am what I am. I’m consolidating these roughly into thirds + scheduling them in intervals. I am not sure how interesting this will be but!! If you want to see me scream at every passing mention of Mercymorn, this is the place. Also apologies in advance for not editing. Spoilers up until page 129 in the hardcover, or the Day Three divider.

“It was me and A—and M—at the start.” I know we’ve already got these first two chapters in the previews, but from this initial moment, I, and my Augustine&Mercymorn (and Augustine/Mercymorn) was sated and thanked Tamsyn Muir infinitely for sustenance. I was extremely vindicated to learn Mercy was medical and extremely thrown but delighted to hear Augustine was also a scientist, but of course “handled the shareholders.” God. “You know the worst part? She cried. She and A—both cried. In each other’s arms, like babies. They were so fucking scared.” At which point I was overwhelmed because of course, of course, they repeat and repeat and the potential that Augustine and Mercymorn lived and died as A—and M—died? I must sit down. Things that I obviously think and will state here, once, but assume it is happening over and over again: Nona, I love you, I love you, I love you. Pyrrha Dve, I love you, I am free on Monday, I am free on Tuesday, I am free on whatever days I am not promising to Camilla Hect, whom I love and am free on Monday, on Tuesday, on—and Palamedes, you are nice too. Also let’s quickly discuss these 10ish chapters in whole. I have always been team Nona is Alecto in whomever’s body. And we stake out, here, that I’ll be assuming it is Harrow’s body and Alecto’s soul. This assumption driven a) contextually, we know this was supposed to a blip in Alecto initially and frankly it being Alecto’s soul makes the most sense, sorry to meta-game, but b) that John is talking to ‘Harrow’ but clearly reciting Alecto’s history, or his history with Alecto and c) the end of John 5:20/start of Chapter 7 demonstrates that we only get John-to-‘Harrow’ when Nona is asleep, suggesting a tie (ingenious btw) and d) Nona being mistaken for a fourteen year old reads much more strongly of Harrow’s body (angry gothic shrimp) than Gideon’s (which, at last update, was perfectly preserved, with we assume muscle intact). I further subscribe to the Resurrection Beasts are the souls of the planets and Alecto is the RB of earth. We’ll pivot from these assumptions as necessary, but here’s where I’ve hedged my bets! Okay. “It was no fun, my child.” Take a shot every time Pyrrha is parental and then flashback to when Pyrrha just wanted to know why Wake had brought the baby and think very deeply about, I believe, Pyrrha’s longing to be parental. Pyrrha Dve, adopt me. “Nine million, Pyrrha. That’s the equivalent to the whole of the Seventh and Eighth put together.” This figure genuinely shocked me & I did not realize the scale of the empire and also that Silas was truly in charge of over a million people?? Props to that anemic teen. That is a big cult. (I am once again begging someone to show me the Eighth.) “You should… Gideon used to think about running away there. I know how to farm.” Previously stated, but I cannot believe Em and I called Gideon farming vibes (close enough!), Cassy lawyer vibes, and Mercy pre-med vibes. That’s almost a full bingo row! Anyway, eating up every detail about Gideon and signs of agency with a fork. “One of the reasons that they called her Nona was that the first thing she ahd said, when they saved her and brought her was ‘No, no.’” Having also participated in Nabokov brainrot rummer (shoutout @gothicenjoyer) I am deeply intrigued by this thread of a character’s professed lack of consent becoming the basis for her name. There is something very tasty here. To be unpacked later? When Nona tells you all of Pyrrha’s code words and you’re like “this will almost certainly be deeply relevant to the plot later, but it’s also, like, chapter one so I’m not going to remember it.” Flagged p38 (page numbers in hardcover), and Nona’s burgeoning lessons on, for simplicity, “being human” to later compare with Mercy’s assertion that Alecto could never fake being human, was fundamentally inhuman – if Nona = Alecto. We’ll come back to this. We’ll also see if “Nona [felt] a little bit offended on the planet’s part” has any secondary payoff. “Nona longed to lie, but didn’t know how to stop her body from telling the truth.” (47) I think I’ll want this quote later. Understanding all languages + body language + honesty. “… the pride of having Pyrrha, the familiarity of seeing someone and knowing they belonged to you.” (54) Kevin is a visionary. The Angel being referred to as sir. The Gender is beginning. Also really important having a crush on your teacher representation, huh? I see you Hot Sauce. Speaking of Gender, obligatory joke about using a sword or magicking bones being The Two Genders, but of course, ave has already written the essay on it. “Nice to nibble at, boring otherwise.” “She’s used to people loving her anyway,” I will also eat all of the Coronabeth content with a spoon. We are assuming based on the names and that The Captain is, obviously, Judith. “She was made to be immune to blue light.” I hope this book will help me resolve whether Mercy actually inadvertently looked at RB7 or what?? Or what???? Said the only person in the world who is still caught on that blip from HTN. “Making the same shape as his mouth had done like she did when speaking languages.” I’mmmm well, frankly, I cannot believe the way to fully invest me in Palamedes was to put him in Camilla’s body. This situation remains delicious and tragic. I will sit down in the bath now. “C—was panicking because… she was getting recalled to England” God I cannot believe Cassiopeia is British #representation, but I am very listening. Pyrrha being a cop. Checks out! “Oh my God, you’re drinking, aren’t you. You’re on anphetamines, Youa re on coke. You are on amphetamines and coke. I was all like Yeah. . . Coke Zero.” I cannot believe this. I cannot believe this, and I love you Mercymorn Nolastname. “G—always thought anything I did or said was fine. Not necessarily right, but fine.” Once again eating the G1deon content. “…all the ones I touched, all the ones I loved…” (76)

“Because I remind her that her God was just a human being who could get tired and fuck up.” We are nibbling on the Pyrrha/Wake content, but also relevant, relevant. “I’ve got a broken heart and I’ll never love again.” Again, nibbling. Big bite of them. Thank you, TM. “Of course they were apart, separated forever by a matter of minutes” I am experiencing an emotion over the tragedy but also “but Nona knew they talked to each other in pages of letters and letters and letters” cf. their relationship to Dulcinea? The inherent epistolary form of the Sixth house? “When Gideon and I designed that trial, I used to crack his skull and sieve it myself, just as a control variable… The only other people I put through that damn trial were Mercy and Cris, because only Cris didn’t mind being trepanned on the regular.” Cristabel Oct I love you, I am obsessed with you, I want to put you in a jar and carry you forever. I am also deeply interested in how hands on this suggests the ‘cavaliers’ were + collaborative with the research (vs. ‘contemporary’ necro/cav relations) and also… Pyrrha and Mercy… collaborators… h*t. “On the first day, A—believed… A—said I looked cool. He was the only one.” At which point I began frothing at the mouth because man, Augustine (and Mercymorn, and everyone, but especially) really was fully in your corner, and you killed that guy. You really killed that guy. You killed your two+ best friends. “A—and M—moved in with me.” We are also HIGHLY attuned to how often A/M are referred to and operate as a unit. I’m obsessed. I’m fed. “A—was trying so hard to bring me back down to earth… He’d swapped with M--.” At what point are they truly divorcees? You know? “…squabbled with A--. At least that made me feel normal. That was their usual double act. It was only when they felt the same thing that I knew it was serious.” Lmao, fuck me up. “make time go away” is of note re: theories that John can stop time. OBSESSED that Ulysses and Titania were ‘shells’?? WHERE are their souls and how does that square with, iirc, Augustine or John calling Ulysses “that madman.” SOMEONE tell me more. (Also “They weren’t around to say yes or no. I was starting to really care about that.” Casually tracking when/where John cares about autonomy and consent.) “still as a statue in the park, only her head was still on of course” “swim in salt water for hours” to me, this is further Alecto/Earth evidence, but I am too livid that Tamsyn worked in a JANDALS. Although, truly, Nona deserves them. But “salt water made her feel… she would suddenly know the words to tell them everything.” Cf. a reverse-engineered Ninth House tradition of saltwater and honesty? Are these related?? “or hearing the door open when you were really lonely” Noting Nona’s atonement to loneliness. Also it is very beautiful and all the more so for its framing as a human essential. (107)

Merv Wing. Someone called the Angel. Are we getting a hint of Neon Genesis Evangelion? Merv. Nerv. Merv. Nerv. Hm……. Feasting on Pyrrha’s caution and condemnation of the Eightfold. (115) Oh, I forgot but Pyrrha saying she’d have an easier time pimping out Augustine and Alfred… Augustine Quinque, seen murdered in the streets. But also. God, tell me more. “That’s a feeling,” said Pyrrha brutally. “Kill it.” A line to power many a Pyrrha Dve fic, to be sure. Noting that Nona can “hear [Varun/RB7] sing.” “I don’t let go,” said Camilla. “It’s my one thing.” “M—dry-retching in the corner.” I love youuu. I cannot believe all of these fuckers were varying degrees of Christian and am simply begging for Nigella, should she be (re)named after Nigella Lawson, to have some Jewish energy. Alas. I know. We are in the Christian book zone. “M—had been a hard atheist since she was twelve. But she got over it. She was a walking contradiction anyway. Her best friend in the whole world was a nun. Also at some point A—gave her a benzo and a shot of whiskey, so that helped.” A/M strikes again, but, like, come on. Come on. We’re not introducing a nun and not having that be Cristabel… I said, vibrating into the next dimension. Come onnn. Show me this nun and also tell me more. What kind of nun? Is this a Prime of Miss Jean Brodie situation or what? A Sister Act vibe? Is ther any Maggie Smith energy is what I’m asking. These are the totality of my nun references. “So of course, what do M—and A—do, they go raid a fucking graveyard.” FRANKLY the number of times these two go off and plot and execute things together on their own… Anyway, I will write this fic and I hope everyone else writes this fic too. I want 100 comedies of grave digging errors with M + A. Also, I feel gratified for spoofing that Hamlet grave digging scene (lightly) in my one Augustine/Mercymorn fic. I really, really do. “See, I did make a utopia.” He is joking, of course, but fascinating potential implications if John really does consider his project utopian and cf. Augustine’s analysis that the entirety of his empire is all for “symbolic retribution.” In the way that this series has constantly fisheyed outwards, from a competition between the elites of the empire (representatives of the internal politics of the empire) to the emperor’s inner circle (the external politics of the empire and its equally external threats), I think it is incredibly smart to take us outside the empire and into a contested place under occupation. I also think it is, thus far, really well rendered. And what an efficient way of fully re-orientating every assumption we may have abt John’s empire and how it operates. Good stuff. I’m sure there will be much more to say here in time. Future installments will be in this tag xoxo. Treat yourself to a Coke Zero is you did read this all the way through. God bless.

#nona the ninth #ntnspoilers #nona spoilers #the locked tomb #m: nona liveblogging

59 notes · View notes

sunnys567 · 1 year

Text

Friends in Strange Places Ch. 4 Pt 1

What if Vlad was good instead of evil? Link to chapter 1:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39040329/chapters/97656390

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

"...And these ghost candies have been in your pocket for how long?" Sam asked.

"Well, I got them in Colorado..."

"So, for about two weeks." Tucker raised an eyebrow. Him and Sam were looking at the green candies in Danny's hand like they were dead bugs.

"They seem fine to me." Danny shrugged. He decided Sam and Tucker didn't need to know that they'd probably been through the wash at least twice.

"Danny they're glowing."

"And you got them from a ghost, dude."

"Her name was Bernie, and she was very nice. C'mon, aren't you guys at least a little curious?"

"This seems like a bad idea," Tucker said, taking a candy "But I'll admit I am."

"Welp, we might as well all die together." Sam shrugged, taking a candy herself.

The three of them unwrapped the candies and popped them into their mouth.

Sam and Tucker immediately began spluttering and spit their candies out.

"That was the worst thing I've ever tasted!" Sam said.

"Agreed." Tucker nodded. "And the bar for stuff I'll eat is real low."

"How was it bitter and sour at the same time?"

"Maybe you guys are tasting the ectoplasm." Danny said. "I guess they are ghost candies."

"Danny, how are you eating that?" Sam gaped.

"Dude, those things taste like they hate you."

"It tastes kinda sweet." Danny shrugged. "It's not really a specific flavour, but it tastes like something I can't really describe. Kind of reminds me of Amity Park Park on a sunny day?"

"Ectoplasm tastes sweet to you?" Tucker asked, his face a mix of intrigue and disgust.

"Huh? Oh no, I think I just started noticing the taste of ectoplasm less when I became half-ghost."

"Danny." Sam put her hands together. "Why do you know what ectoplasm tastes like before and after the accident."

"I get blasted in the face with ecto-based attacks on a regular basis. Some of it ends up in my mouth." Danny raised his hands defensively.

"And before?" Tucker asked.

"Sometimes you're seven, and you dare your sister to eat some, but she'll only do it if you do too. Or you're three, and it a bright colour, and three-year-olds like putting bright colours in their mouth, or..." Danny trailed off when he noticed Tucker and Sam's horrified expressions. "Look, I was raised by two ghost hunters. It happens."

"How are you not dead?" Sam asked.

"I probably should be dead for, like, twenty different reasons, but eating ectoplasm isn't one of them. It's not poisonous, turns out."

"On that note," Tucker stood up "I have to go home and eat literally anything that isn't ectoplasm."

"What time is it?" Sam checked her watch. "5:47? Already? Jeez, it's almost my supper time too."

"Aw, why do you guys eat so early?" Danny winded as he followed them out of his room and down the stairs.

"Danny, most people have supper before 8:00. You're the weirdo here." Tucker said.

"Okay, first off, we eat before 8:00-"

"7:30's not much better dude."

"And second, I'm not weird!"

"Danny," Sam said, opening the door "You eat ectoplasm."

"You're misconstruing what I said! I do not eat-"

The door shut before Danny could finish his sentence. Danny grumbled to himself before sitting down on the living room couch.

Danny rolled the candy around with his tongue. He still hadn't figured out what the weird flavour was.

Whatever it was, it was bringing up old memories; like going fishing with Dad, Mom taking him to the park, and daring Jazz to eat ectoplasm.

As Danny got lost in his memories, the candy steadily got smaller and smaller. Eventually it disappeared entirely, leaving Danny with a strange empty feeling.

Danny was suddenly filled with the urge to go to the kitchen. His mind had drifted there a lot while he was sucking on the candy.

He hoped someone would be sitting there.

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

Sure enough, Dad and Jazz were both sitting at the table. Jazz was writing on a some papers, surrounded by a small pile of books. His dad had gutted some small device and was examining some of the wires.

Danny just stood in the doorframe and watched them for a bit. It was kind of nice how normal the scene looked. Well, Danny supposed most people's parents didn't wear neon jumpsuits at the kitchen table, but it was normal for the Fentons. There was a comfort in their special kind of normal that Danny hadn't really thought about much.

"Danny!" Jack beamed once he'd noticed Danny's arrival. "You're just in time! I need some help with this."

"Oh." Danny immediately tensed. "Um, what exactly is 'this'?"

Danny prepared for his father to tell him in great detail what horrors this new device could potentially afflict on him.

"He's just fixing the toaster." Jazz said. "No dangerous weapons, or anything that's designed to cause any harm to humans or ghosts in any way whatsoever. Theoretically, anyway."

Oh.

Danny felt himself relax again. It would be nice to not tense up every time his parents were working on something new. Especially since, being professional inventors, they were working on something new very often.

It would be a huge relief, a voice in his head said.

Then again, the only way to remedy that situation might cause his parents to start making new things specifically to destroy him, which would not be a huge relief.

"I need you to go to the basement and get me a screwdriver." His dad's voice snapped Danny out of his thoughts. "The one I had earlier is missing."

"Why can't Jazz do it?"

"Because Jazz is working on an important essay on the long term effects of suppression." Jazz turned a page in the book she was reading. "While Danny is standing there not doing anything particularly important right now."

Danny stuck his tongue out at Jazz.

"Love you too little brother." she said, not looking up from her book.

"That's the third misplaced screwdriver this week!" Danny said, turning back to his dad. "How do you keep losing them?"

"I'm not losing them, they're being taken."

"By who?"

"The rats!"

"Why would rats-"

"Ghost rats!"

"Ah, there we go."

"I don't know what those little creeps are up to," Jack narrowed his eyes at some point in the distance "But I just know it's something nefarious!"

"Right, right. I'm going to the lab now."

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

Danny grumbled as he dug through piles of tools and machine scraps. This lab was a absolute disaster! His parents could have made an effort to keep things at least semi-organized, but nope! The tables and shelves were filled with piles that all held new surprises every time you looked through them. Some of those surprises bit, too.

Finally, after at least ten minutes of searching (and no biting, luckily), Danny found a pile that contained a screwdriver.

"Ah hah!" he cried, triumphantly thrusting it over his head.

That was when his ghost sense went off.

"Seriously?!"

Danny quickly turned turned towards the portal, transformed, and floated into a battle position.

A familiar bird head popped out of the portal.

"Hey fellas!" He cried "It vorked!"

Two more bird heads popped out beside him.

"Really?" the one with the glasses said.

"Amazing!" the raspy voiced one said "Ve can finally get out of da stupid Ghost Zone!"

The vultures suddenly noticed Danny.

"Ay, ghost kid!" The leader greeted him as the birds entered the lab the rest of the way.

"How on earth did you three get here?"

"Good to see you too kid, tanks for asking."

"Ve've been vorking on finding your portal for months." The raspy-voiced vulture said.

"Oh yeah," Danny had completely forgotten about Vlad saying that he'd try to find a route. "Does that mean Vlad's with you?"

"Sorry kid, he's off on a business trip."

"Oh." That meant Vlad wouldn't even be at his house. That was a shame becasue Danny really wanted to talk about their conversation at the cabin. He still felt bad about that.

"If you see him, do you think you could tell Vlad I'm sorry about what happened at the cabin?"

"Eh, I don't tink you got anything to apologize for." the lead vulture said. "In my opinion, you seem to have done some good for Plasmius. He's finally dragged himself out of the lab and back to terapy like I've been telling him to do for veeks."

"Wait, he's gone back to therapy? What for?"

"For da whole friendship situation." the leader turned to the other two "Not the brightest, dis one, eh?"

"So, has the therapist been helping?" Danny asked, deciding to ignore that comment.

"It's a process." the lead vulture shrugged. "He seems to tink Vlad should stop hiding and just tell his friends vhat's going on. Of course, he doesn't know exactly vhat it is Vlad's hiding, but Vlad seems to think that he's talking sense."

"Wait, you mean Vlad's thinking about telling my parents he's half-ghost?"

"Aie," the vulture with the glasses frowned "You probably shouldn't have mentioned dat. You know Vlad's still figuring things out."

"Eh, da kid vas going to find out anyvay."

"Danny!" his father called down from the top of the stairs. "Did you find that screwdriver, son?"

"Sounds like dat's our cue." the lead vulture said as the three of them turned towards the portal. "Don't forget to change before you go up, yea?"

With that the birds flew back into the portal and Danny was left alone in the lab.

Vlad was going to tell them.

Danny stood there staring at the portal. After a few seconds, a wave of anger rose up in Danny.

For twenty years, Vlad had been too much of a coward to even speak to his parents, and now he was just going to risk it all and tell them everything?

Vlad had spent his time as a ghost hidden safely away in his stupid mansion. Danny was the one who'd risked his neck living under the roof of ghost hunters every day. What right did Vlad have to put them at risk like that? How could he-

"Danny?"

"Yup!" Danny transformed out of his ghost form. "I'm coming Dad!"

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

"I found a screwdriver." Danny said as he emerged from the basement. He hoped it wasn't obvious how perturbed he was.

"Excellent!" his father said, taking the screwdriver.

Good, it wasn't obvious. Or maybe his dad just didn't notice.

"When I'm done, this baby'll work better than ever before!"

"Great."

Danny glared at the toaster. For the past few months he'd had to tiptoe around countless of his parent's rogue inventions. Vlad had been to their house one time and decided that was all just too hard, apparently.

"You okay, Danno? You seem kind of off."

Jazz's eyes flicked up from her textbook at Jack's words.

"Oh, I'm fine, I just, uh..." Danny forgot how unreliable his dad's denseness could be. He needed to switch the topic to anything. "What are you doing to the toaster anyway?"

Jazz did something weird with her lips, then went back to reading.

"Well son, your mother was complaining about it not working properly earlier. I'm fixing it up to surprise her. Done!" Jack held up the toaster triumphantly. "Not only is it fixed, but I've implemented our new experimental ecto-based energy generator, so the toaster creates its own power! You don't even need to plug it in anymore! Now we just need to test it out."

Jack slid two sliced of bread into the toaster and pushed the handle down.

"Uh, are you sure that's a good id-"

The toaster began shaking violently.

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

"-and that's how I spent my evening fighting an evil toaster." Danny concluded.

Tucker was trying very hard not to choke on his sloppy joe. Sam was barely hiding a grin.

"And how long did it take you to subdue the toaster?" she asked.

"About an hour." Danny grumbled. He didn't think the situation was that funny.

"So it was just you, your dad, and Jazz running around your house for an hour trying to subdue a sentient toaster?" Sam covered her mouth with her hand "Because that is a very entertaining image."

"Pretty much."

Tucker and Sam burst out laughing.

It could've been faster if Dad and Jazz knew about your powers. A voice in Danny's head said. He pushed the thought away.

He'd had thoughts like that ever since the accident but, after Colorado, they were becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

Luckily, Danny's ghost sense going off provided a convenient distraction.

Danny stood up, but a flash of red out the window made him sit back down.

"Huntress on this one?" Sam asked.

"Yup." Danny said.

"You don't have to look so grumpy." Tucker said. "She's kind of doing you a favour."

"No, she's just moving the problem down the line." Danny said. "For some reason she doesn't capture the ghosts she fights, so that just means I have and deal with them later."

"At least they're not bothering you in school." Sam said. "I'm not sure your grades could take that."

"Hey! I'm making mostly A's these days."

"Your last report card was mostly B's, Danny."

"There were some A's on there!"

"You know, it might be worth just trying to talk to her." Tucker said. "Maybe she's friendly."

"And just how many ghost hunters have we met that have been willing to give a ghost a chance?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but it's not like we know that many ghost hunters." Tucker pointed out.

"Even so, I'm with Sam." Danny said. "The odds on 'friendly ghost hunter' are not great, and I have enough trouble in my life as it is, so I'd like to keep off of her radar for as long as possible."

The lunch bell rang. Danny realized he'd gotten distracted by The Red Huntress and had forgotten to tell Sam and Tucker about his conversation with the vultures.

He'd just have to tell them after school.

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

Valerie waited around the corner. She'd bumped into Tucker alone here after lunch on another Thursday, so maybe that would happen again.

"Bingo." she smiled as she saw him walking down the hall by himself, absorbed in his PDA.

"Hey Foley." she said, stepping around the corner.

"Oh, hey Valerie." Tucker looked up from his device. "What's up?"

"You're good with weird tech stuff, right?"

"The very best." Tucker beamed proudly.

"Right. And how good are you at keeping secrets?"

"I am also pretty good at that. Why?"

"I need a favour."

"What kind of a favour?"

"First," Valerie swung her backpack around and grabbed the zipper "You've got to swear you won't tell anyone about this."

Valerie narrowed her eyes at Tucker in a way that made his skin crawl.

"Y-yeah, sure. No problem. My lips are sealed."

"Good." Valerie's face morphed back into a smile as she unzipped and dug through her bag. "So is there anyway you'd be able to make this part of a glove?" Valerie pulled out a small green device.

"A Fenton Hand shield?" Tucker took the device from Valerie's hand. "Where'd you get one of these?"

"Where do you think?" Valerie raised an eyebrow. "Not like it was hard. The Fentons will literally just give them out to anyone who shows up at their door. I didn't even ask them for it."

"That's...not actually that surprising. But what were you doing at their door in the first place?"

"Yeah...now's not really the best time for questions. Fourth period starting soon and all." Valerie said, glancing at her watch. "Wanna meet up after school?"

Tucker looked at the hand shield. Something about this whole situation seemed kind of off. Then again, there was only one way to find out more about what was going on.

Besides, it was just Valerie. How much trouble could she possibly be getting into?

"Yeah, alright. I'll meet you out front after school."

"Great!" Valerie beamed.

Tucker didn't know how, but Valerie seemed to mould the environment around her with her facial expression. The world scarier wen she was mad at you, but also brighter when she smiled.

"See you then! Don't want to be late." Valerie waved, heading off to her next class.

"See ya!" Tucker waved back as she disappeared around the corner.

Tucker looked at the hand shield. He'd never wired electronics into clothing before, but the hand shield was a pretty simple device, so it'd probably be doable with a little online help...

The sound of the bell snapped Tucker out of his thoughts.

"Right! Class!" Tucker stuffed the hand shield into his pocket and sprinted off to class.

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

"Welp, see you guys later." Tucker waved to Danny and Sam as they exited the school building.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sam asked.

"I'm meeting up with Valerie. We're going to my house to, uh... work on a bio project."

Sam narrowed her eyes at Tucker.

"Oh, okay." Danny said. "See you later then."

"See ya!" Tucker waved.

Sam kept her eyes on Tucker as he walked away.

"He's hiding something." She said to Danny as they began walking home.

"Yeah?" Danny asked distractedly.

Sam raised an eyebrow at Danny.

"Clearly he's not the only one."

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon Danny, I've been your friend for long enough to be able to tell that something's on your mind."

Danny sighed.

"I was talking to Vlad's vultures yesterday, and-"

"Wait, his what?"

"I didn't tell you about the vultures?"

"No. No you did not."

"Well, anyway, he has these three vultures that work for him, and-"

"Vlad has ghosts that work for him? Does he pay them? And why vultures? I have so many questions about this situation."

"Sam!"

"Right, sorry, what were you saying?"

"They said that Vlad might be planning on telling my parents he's half-ghost."

Sam's eyes briefly widened before narrowing in anger.

"Seriously? I hope you told them what a stupid idea that is. Ugh, that's so selfish of him. Doesn't he care about the danger that puts himself and you in?"

"Yeah, it's just that, I've been thinking...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if my parents knew."

Sam stopped walking and gawked at Danny.

"Okay," she pinched the bridge of her nose and resumed walking "Is there some kind of brain-scrambling disease going around that only affects half-ghosts or something?"

"I know it sound crazy, Sam. It's just...sometimes it feels like there's this gap between me and my family. Not to mention there's a lot of situations where it would have been really convienent if they knew."

"Danny, keeping your ghost powers a secret is the best option. Best case scenario, your parents turn into pests that fuss over you every time you fight a ghost. And worst case scenario, they try to tear you apart molecule by molecule."

They stopped walking as they reached Fenton Works.

"I get having to tiptoe around them is annoying, but if you tell them, they probably wouldn't really get it, and it'd just be a huge hassle for you to deal with. It's just not worth it."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Danny said as he ascended the steps. "It was a stupid idea. I'll see you tomorrow."

He shut the door before he Sam could reply.

"Hello?" Danny called. No one answered. His parents were probably in the basement, and Jazz had probably decided to stop at the library before coming home.

Danny wished he could talk to Jazz about, well, everything. As much as he hated to admit it, Jazz understood his feelings better than even he did sometimes.

But if he told Jazz everything, she might think there was something wrong with him. She meant well, but Danny couldn't risk her worrying and going to Mom and Dad.

And...maybe it would hurt a little if his sister thought he was a messed up freak. Danny never really felt like a freak, but it would still hurt if the people he loved thought of him that way.

Danny sighed to himself and swung his backpack off of his shoulder. It had barely touched the ground before he felt his ghost sense go off.

"Seriously?" He groaned before transforming. He grabbed The Fenton Thermos out of his backpack and flew through the door. He floated above the house and looked around.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

"Oh come on!" Danny shouted at the sky as the ghost flew up to his level.

"TREMBLE AT THE CAPACITY OF MY CORRUGATED CAPABILITIES!"

"Alright," Danny's fists lit up green "Let's just get this over with."

Before Danny could do anything, a pink beam blasted the box ghost from the side.

Danny looked over and saw the Red Huntress a few meters away on her hoverboard. She looked ready to shoot the box ghost again, but then she turned to look at Danny.

Uh oh.

"Don't shoot!" Danny raised his hands in the air. "I'm not with him! I swear!"

The Huntress laughed.

"Relax." she said. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You're not?" Danny cautiously lowered his arms. "But aren't you a ghost hunter?"

"Yeah, but I know you're one of the good ones. Danny Phantom, right?"

"You know me?"

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

Without looking way from The Huntress, Danny raised his Fenton Thermos and sucked The Box Ghost into it.

"Woah!" The Huntress exclaimed "What on earth is that?"

"Uh-"

"Hey, wait a minute," The Huntress's visor almost seemed to squint "Is that The Fenton Works logo?"

"Um..." Danny instincitively his the thermos behind his back. "No?"

"Do you steal the Fenton's ghost hunting equipment?"

"Hey! Why are you jumping right to 'steal'?"

"Please. Like those two would willingly help a ghost in any way."

"Okay, fair point, but I need this to catch ghosts. It's the only way to contain them and get them back to The Ghost Zone."

"Contain them, eh? You know, I could use something like that."

"What?"

"Something to contain ghosts. At this point I've just been scaring them away, hoping that that deters them from messing with anyone."

"Wait, you don't actually have a way to contain ghosts?" Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh my gosh. You clearly aren't prepared for this at all. What made you think hunting ghosts was a good idea in the first place?"

"You, actually."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I wanted to fight evil ghosts and keep people safe, like you do. You kind of inspired me when you saved me from Axiom."

"Axiom?"

"Yeah. When that ghost dog showed up, I lost everything. I was angry and scared for a while, but now I can channel those things into something useful. My life may have been destroyed that day, but I've been given the chance to build a better one, and I'm going to take it!"

Oh no.

Danny knew that voice.

"Valerie!?"

"Didn't know you knew my name." Valerie casually remarked. "I'm flattered you remember me. Hey, I know technically I owe you one for saving me and my dad's life, but any chance you could hook me up with one of those thermoses? It would really be-"

"No way! This is the only one, and I need it."

"Oh. Well, maybe we could-"

"Sorry, I gotta go." Danny's head was swimming from the discovery he'd just made. "See ya."

"But, wait! I just-"

But Danny had already turned invisible and zoomed off.

"Man," Valerie said to herself "He was certainly in a hurry."

She checked the screen of her ghost radar, but there was no ecto-signature on it.

"Weird..." Valerie muttered to herself.

Maybe Phantom had just flown off really fast? He'd have to be going pretty fast to get out of her radar's range that quickly, but-

"Oh no!" Valerie was suddenly snapped from her musings "Tucker!"

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

Danny flew through his window and stopped above his bed. He transformed and let himself drop out of the air onto his mattress.

Valerie was The Red Huntress.

Danny pulled his pillow over his face and groaned.

Why'd it to be Valerie. Why couldn't it have been someone he didn't see in school everyday?

Danny reached for his cell phone, but changed his mind halfway through dialing Tucker's number. Tucker was studying with Valerie tonight.

"You could've picked anyone to be your bio partner, Tuck." Danny rubbed his face.

He thought about calling Sam but...

Yeah, Danny didn't really want to talk with Sam alone right now. He'd just have to tell them tomorrow. This would be a better conversation to have in person anyway.

Of course that left Danny all on his own to ruminate on this new information. As well as the whole Vlad situation. And the voice in his head telling him how much easier it would be if he just told his parents-

Danny tossed his cell phone back on his night stand. Why was his life so complicated?

He dug his Game Boy out of his nightstand. He just a break from drama and ghosts.

There was already a game cartridge in the slot. Danny pulled it out. It was Pac-Man Collection, his go-to game since elementary school.

Danny reopened his nightstand drawer. He was more in the mood for Tetris right now.

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

#friends in strange places #fisp #Danny Phantom #dp #dp fanfic #danny phantom fanfic #writing #fanfic

13 notes · View notes