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haokyeom · 4 years

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new dream | chwe vernon hansol

ミ★ synopsis: your dream is to get into SNU and leave your town, get a fresh start. that is, until you meet vernon. the one who helps you experience the feeling of being free for the first time.

ミ★ genre: sin of sloth!vernon, highschool!au, angst, fluff, some crack

ミ★ warnings: a couple slaps kapOW

ミ★ word count: 6,352

ミ★ pairings: vernon x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys it’s lila, aka @viastro ! this was kinda rushed because i’ve been going through it, but i hope you guys still like it <3 vernon is the sin of sloth for the collab :o make sure to give vernon lots of love !!

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In life, you have to work hard. As someone who’s been on the Dean’s honor roll since you were in your freshman year, you would know. You’ve been working hard on your grades for as long as you can remember. You wanna get out of Daegu, you want to go to Seoul.

The main reason for you wanting to leave the place you were raised?

To get away from your aunt and cousin, who took you in when your parents passed. However, they’ve done nothing for you except let you under their roof. You practically raised yourself from the moment you could start doing addition and subtraction.

It doesn’t help that your cousin, Yeona, is an absolute shithead.

So here you are, walking back to your house from the after cram school to make sure you pass the exam to get into SNU, Seoul National University. It’s 8 PM and you’re wondering if you should go and get fast food before going to your shift at the convenience store your aunt owns.

Your schedule is basically wake up, go to school, attend classes at the cram school after school ends, go to work at the kbbq restaurant for a few hours, then work at the convenience store. There’s no time for fun or meeting your friends, not that you have many. You dedicate most of your time into making sure that you have enough money to financially support yourself once you finally leave Daegu, and that’s all that matters to you.

“Maybe I’ll get fries.” You mumble to yourself once you notice the grumble of your stomach. You walk down the street to head towards McDonald’s, only to freeze when you hear the sound of guys yelling. Raising an eyebrow, hand sneaking into your pocket to grab the pepper spray you keep, before continuing your route to the fast food place.

“You’re not gonna do anything? You’re just gonna let us beat the shit out of you?” You frown at the sentence, wondering why the person won’t fight back. You twist off the cap when you look down the alleyway to your left and see a group of guys surrounding one man laying on his side.

“What a bitch-”

“Hey!” You shout out without thinking, and all the guys turn to glance at you. You’re standing at the entrance of the alleyway, pepper spray in hand as you quietly think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, you should’ve closed your eyes and pretended nothing was happening.

it sucks being a person with morals.

“What are you doing here, little girl? This business doesn’t involve you.” You glare at the man who assumed you were a child when you’re now an adult. You glance down at the guy on the ground, only to raise an eyebrow when you realize he has on your school’s male uniform. “What are you guys doing beating up a student? You’re all like… thirty.”

One of the guys growls and moves to go and get you, only to be held back by the first man who spoke to you. He shoots a glare at you, “Go. I won’t ask twice.”

You let out a sigh, before walking up closer to the three men. It’s when you stand before them that the guy your age lets out a groan, sitting up from laying on the ground. He turns around to glance at you, and your eyes widen slightly when you immediately recognize him.

Chwe Vernon Hansol, the guy at your school who puts no effort into things. However, he’s second best to you. He’s one of the naturally gifted students.

you despise him for that.

“Get the fuck down, bitch.” The guy tells Vernon, and the blonde lets out a tired sigh. You question whether you actually heard him mutter, “I told you, you’re literally beating up the wrong guy.”

“The fuck did you just-” Without thinking, you reach out and pepper spray all three of the guys before they can make another move on Vernon. They begin screeching, and Vernon’s eyes widen, immediately standing up and grabbing your hand. The two of you make a run for it with Vernon pulling you as you hear the men roar out in pain from behind you.

The rush you feel is exhilarating. Your heart is beating wildly against your chest, your hair being blown past you by the breeze as you run. You feel free as you run with Vernon, his hand tightly holding yours until you both feel that you’re far enough.

You double over, hands on your knees as you try and catch your breath. Vernon runs a hand through his hair, hand clutching his stomach as he feels a cramp coming on. After a moment of you two just heavily breathing, you stand up straight and look directly at the blonde.

His uniform is dirty with footprints and some blood, his tie now hanging loosely around his neck. He runs a hand through his messy hair, before turning and glancing at you. A flicker of recognition flashes past his eyes, and he tilts his head at you, “You’re yn.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the fact that he knows your name, and Vernon takes notice of this, letting out a chuckle. He stands up straight, stretching out his back, wincing slightly at the pain from what will most likely be bruises the next day. He turns to you once he’s done and says, “You’re at the top of the Dean’s honor roll, of course I know who you are.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, words not seeming to form proper sentences as you try to come up with a response. Vernon lets out a sigh after a moment, before turning and giving you a close-lipped smile. “Thanks for saving me back there.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I couldn’t just let you get beaten up, but I’m curious.” Vernon tilts his head to the side, and you purse your lips at the memory of him just letting himself get kicked everywhere. “Why didn’t you try and stop them? You were just laying there.”

Vernon smiles at you, and you find that he has a rather nice smile. You almost protest when it goes away once he shrugs his shoulders, “I was lazy.”

Your eyes widen in confusion, making you momentarily forget about his nice smile. Vernon laughs at your reaction, before turning and beginning to walk away. He only stops once he’s a few feet away, turning back and waving at you with a devilish grin on his face.

“See you at school tomorrow!”

You continue to stand there for a moment, wondering why the hell he let himself get beat up simply because he was lazy. Letting out a sigh, you realize there’s no reason for you to continue to think about Vernon. You have a shift to get to.

And with that, you walk towards the convenience store, stomach grumbling slightly at the fact that you were unable to get any McDonald’s. However, you still find yourself thinking of Vernon, that feeling you got when he was pulling you through the streets.

It lingers hours later as you eat the stale kimbap while you stay behind the register.

“Yn, can you go and get the printed papers from the staff room?” You glance up from your desk to see your teacher staring at you, and you give her a nod, standing up and walking out of the room. Once you’re closer to the staff room, you raise an eyebrow when you hear the familiar voice.

“I’m doing well in the subjects, why did I get called in?”

“Vernon, you’re a naturally gifted student. However, you have to stop sleeping during my classes.”

You chuckle quietly, knowing that the blonde enjoys sleeping during classes. You never had an idea as to why he takes naps while the teacher is in the middle of lecture, but after last night, you have a vague idea as to why he’s always tired.

You try to quietly slide open the door, only to cringe when the loud squeak resonates through the room. Vernon glances up at the noise, and finds you cursing the door for ratting you out. The corner of his lips tilts up in a smile, before he turns back towards his teacher.

“I’ll try my best.” Vernon says, and his teacher nods her head. She motions with her hand that he’s free to go, and Vernon makes sure to walk past you at the printers as he does so. You turn your head when you see Vernon walking up to you, and you catch a glimpse of his smile.

“Hey, yn.” Vernon greets before walking out of the staff room. You stare at the printer with wide eyes, questioning why heat is rushing to your face simply from his smile. Quickly grabbing the papers needed for your class, you leave the staff room.

“You look nice toda-” You screech at the sudden voice beside you, almost dropping the papers, but clutching them close to your chest instead. You’d rather sacrifice yourself than pick up at least 50 papers off the floor. Vernon stands beside you, trying to hold back his laugh at your reaction, and the blush rises to your cheeks again. Except this time, it’s due to humiliation.

“Please ignore that ever happening.” Vernon shakes his head with a smile, running a hand through his blonde hair as he chuckles.

“It was really funny, so I don’t think I will.” He tells you, and you squint at him, before turning and continuing to walk down the hallway towards your classroom. You hear Vernon’s footsteps following behind you, causing you to frown. You stop walking, and turn back around to see Vernon standing there, hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Because I think you’d be interesting to hangout with.” Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets, and Vernon finds himself having to hold back another laugh. You point towards yourself in confusion, and the blonde nods with an amused grin on his face. “Why would I do that? No, let me rephrase. Why would you want that?”

Vernon just shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the wall as he looks you up and down. You try to hold back the heat from rushing to your face again at the way his eyes rake your body, feeling slightly self conscious of the fact that your uniform is no longer as put together as it was this morning. You freeze once Vernon’s eyes lock with yours again, and he smiles. “Cause all you do is school shit, seems boring.”

You immediately squint at the blonde, no longer interested in what more he has to say as you decide to walk past him and into your classroom without another word. Leaving Vernon alone in the hallway, somehow more intrigued by you than he was previously.

“Just get me an iced americano before you get back!” Before you can respond, Yeona hangs up the phone, and you curse to yourself. Now annoyed and hungry, you step out of the cram school and begin walking towards the coffee shop.

“What am I? Cinderella? I fucking hate it here. She has legs, she has money, why can’t she just get her own coffee? We literally live right on top of a convenience store. We have instant coffee at ho-” You’re cut off when you accidentally walk right into someone, and their hands grasp your arms to make sure you don’t fall backwards. You immediately begin to mutter out a bunch of apologies, looking up to only lock eyes with those familiar caramel colored eyes.

shit.

Vernon lets out a small smile, tilting his head to the side as he watches your eyes slowly turn into slits as you stare at him. “Well, I thought you didn’t wanna hangout with me?”

Scoffing, you push him away, and you hear him chuckle at your reaction. You brush away any dust on your uniform before crossing your arms and glaring at the blonde. “I don’t.”

“Then maybe fate has other plans, considering the fact that this is the third time we’ve met coincidentally.” Vernon tells you cheekily, and you roll your eyes. “That or you’re stalking me.”

Now it’s Vernon’s turn to scoff at you, and you bite back a smile. Letting out a sigh, you step past him so that you can go and get Yeona’s coffee, only to realize he’s now walking right beside you. You turn and glance at him, just to find him looking up at the stars in the sky.

“You seemed pretty mad when you bumped into me. It was like a whole scene from those movies where the antagonist realizes they’re going to be evil. From the furrow to your brow, to the whole monologue you did. I’m glad I stopped that character arch.” Vernon says and you let out a laugh, shaking your head when you realize how what he said was true. The blonde smiles at the sound, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

“My cousin, Yeona, she’s in your class. She was really pissed off and told me to buy her coffee right as I got out of my cram school classes. I didn’t get the chance to tell her no cause she hung up on me.” You explain, only to immediately regret it a second later because why did you open up to Vernon? Why did you just negatively talk about your cousin when you know she’s well liked in school. You open your mouth to say you were joking, only for the words to die in your throat when you see Vernon nodding his head in agreement.

“That’s ass. She shouldn’t be acting like it’s your job to buy her coffee when she’s asking you to do something for her.” Vernon says, turning to glance at you. He notices the way your eyes shine brightly back at him, and he looks away when he realizes that you’re rather pretty. You bite your bottom lip, staring down at the pavement as the two of you walk side-by-side.

No one’s ever agreed with you when it came to matters such as these, let alone take your side. You’ve lived most of your life under the impression that your cousin is, and always will be, superior to you. Yet Vernon didn’t care, he immediately tried to sympathize with you.

maybe he’s not that bad, you find yourself thinking as the two of you walk in silence. It’s when you both stop in front of the café that you finally speak up, “I’m going to go and buy the americano, thanks for walking me.”

Vernon nods his head, giving you a small smile. “Anytime.”

The two of you stand in an awkward silence for a moment, and you question how the silence when you were both walking together was comfortable. You purse your lips and give Vernon a wave of your hand, before turning to walk inside the cafe. Your hand rests on the doorknob, and you bite your lip, before glancing back at the blonde, “Vernon?”

The blonde looks up at you, and he tilts his head to the side. “Yeah, yn?”

“You’re not so bad.” You say, flashing him a smile before stepping into the cafe. Vernon grins after a moment and walks off, staring up at the night sky.

“Yeona! You look so pretty today. Did you dress up to get Vernon to notice you?” You hear Yeona’s friend ask beside you as you get your portions for lunch. You just continue on with getting your food, turning away to go and sit down without hearing the rest of their conversation.

You move to sit down at one of the empty tables, only to pause when you hear Vernon call out your name. Cursing to yourself, you glance up and see him walking over to you with a happy smile on his face. You know for a fact that Yeona and her friends must have heard Vernon call you, so you’re internally shitting your pants at what she might say.

“I thought I told you to act like you don’t know me at school.” You whine when Vernon now stands in front of you, and he just chuckles at your childish behavior. He reaches out and grasps your wrist, and you raise an eyebrow at the blonde. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Since when were you the one wanting to do stuff? I always have to plan our hangouts.”

“Whatever.” Vernon responds with a grin, and you sigh.

“If it doesn’t make me shit myself, then you owe me tea.” You tell Vernon, and he smiles before pulling you out of the cafeteria. Completely ignoring the glances and whispers the two of you receive.

It’s been about a month since you and Vernon had that moment in front of the coffee shop, and the two of you began hanging out after classes were over. Whether it be him just walking with you to the cram school, him walking you home after cram school, or him bothering you during your shift at the kbbq restaurant. The two of you are usually together.

Recently you’ve even been skipping cram school classes to go and hangout with Vernon, as you’ve come to realize you rather enjoy his presence. However, even though you guys are close outside of school. Within school grounds you two only spared glances at each other because you knew your cousin would go feral if she found out the two of you were on speaking terms.

You already knew that you were dead when you turned around and saw your cousin staring at you and Vernon’s connected hands as you left the cafeteria.

“Your mind’s about to be blown.” Vernon tells you as he takes you up the stairs, and you squint at the male.

“If it doesn’t I swear to God I will call upon thousands of demons-” The threat dies off in your throat once the two of you push through the doors and you find yourself staring out at a beautiful view of the city. You walk over to the ledge, resting your hands on the railing as you take in a deep breath of the fresh air.

Vernon grins, walking up beside you and letting out a happy sigh at the silence. He knows that you won’t be calling upon thousands of demons, or else he would’ve heard it as soon as he opened the doors and you weren’t impressed. However, you’re quiet right now, just staring out at the view.

“So you won’t be making that curse?” Vernon asks, turning to glance at you with a cocky expression on his face. His jaw falls slack slightly when you turn to and face him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen on you.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Vernon.” You tell the blonde, basking in the moment of peace settling the turmoil that runs within you. You turn back towards the view, letting out a happy sigh at the view.

All while Vernon just stares at you for a moment longer, wondering how his heart got the ability to beat so fast at the sight of your smile.

“Mmm… I don’t know Vernon. The college entrance exams are in a few weeks. I’ve been skipping my classes too often recently.” You tell him as the two of you walk towards the cram school, and Vernon lets out a yawn. He shrugs his shoulders, holding up the bag of box dye that he bought and swinging it in your face. “You’re the one who told me I’d look nice with black hair. I got the hair dye, all I need is you to color my hair.”

You squint at him, “Why can’t you dye it yourself? You have two working arms.”

Vernon yawns, turning to glance up at the sky, “Too much work. Besides, this was your idea.”

You let out a sigh, seeing that the cram school is about a block away now. You look at Vernon, seeing him walking with a calm expression on his face as he awaits your response. The sound of the plastic bag rustling against his legs gaining your attention, as you glance down and see the box of black hair dye through the thin plastic.

You quietly wonder to yourself why Vernon decided to take your word for it and dye his hair black. You just said it randomly a couple weeks ago as he was following you around the kbbq restaurant while you cleaned up the tables.

“Why did you even come with me to work? You already know I’m not going to give you any leftover meat.” You tell the blonde as you pick up any trash that was left behind on the countertops. Vernon rolls his eyes at the table beside you, taking a sip of water that your boss gave him.

She strongly believed that the number of customers increases when Vernon accompanies you to work because of how handsome he is. You didn’t believe it at first, but as you take a quick look around, you soon come to realize that a lot of the customers who are eating are all just staring at Vernon.

“Pretty privilege sucks.” You mumble quietly as you place the dirty plates and chopsticks into the bucket. You turn your head to glance at Vernon, finding him quietly scrolling through his phone. His blonde hair is over his forehead today, hiding his strong eyebrows from view. You tilt your head to the side, and Vernon glances up at you when he feels your gaze. “What?”

You shrug, turning back towards the tables to continue cleaning as you mutter, “I think you’d look good with black hair.”

Vernon types up whether it’s better to dye his hair black at home or at a salon when you move to clean the next table.

“Alright, I’ll dye your hair this time. This is the last time I’m skipping my cram school classes though, I have to focus for the college entrance exams.” You tell Vernon with a serious tone, and the blonde nods his head. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go back to my place.”

The two of you turn and begin walking in the opposite direction, and the corner of your lips tilt upwards at the thought of teasing the blonde. So you turn your head and ask, “Do you live like a slob?”

“No.”

“I feel like that’s a lie.”

“Damn, it wasn’t a lie.” You mutter as you slide into the pair of slippers Vernon handed you. He scoffs, walking into the bathroom to prepare the towels without a response. You giggle, knowing that’s all the answer you’re going to get on that topic.

“So you live alone? Already?” You ask as you walk into the bathroom. Vernon nods his head, handing you the gloves that come with the boxed hair dye. “Yeah, I like being alone.”

You frown, turning to glance at him as you put on the gloves. “You and I hangout almost everyday though.”

Vernon doesn’t respond to that, instead handing you the already mixed hair dye. You raise an eyebrow, and he just grabs his phone to scroll through, causing you to squint at him. Before you open your mouth to scold him he turns and says, “You’re the one who said I’d look nice with black hair.”

“You’re the one who bought the hair dye!” You exclaim as you dip the brush into the bowl. Vernon grins at the raise of your voice, knowing that he pushed your buttons. He places the towel over his shoulders when you begin to brush the hair dye onto his blonde locks. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll buy us chicken afterwards, so don’t worry.”

You purse your lips at the mention of fried chicken, deciding to forgive Vernon as you continue to dye his hair. Vernon glances up at you in the mirror and smiles at your pursed lips. You feel his eyes on you, and let out a small grin. The two of you begin to converse, telling each other about each other’s day when suddenly a random question pops up into your head as you use the last of the black hair dye.

“Are we friends, Vernon?” You ask quietly, and Vernon pauses, looking up at you in the mirror. You stare at his hair as you brush the dye onto it, refusing to make eye contact as heat rushes up to your cheeks.

Vernon doesn’t have many friends. Keeping up relationships takes time and effort, if there’s an imbalance, then it becomes hard. Vernon doesn’t have many friends because of this quality of being the Sin of Sloth, but he doesn’t mind being alone.

However, he’s grown to enjoy your presence. You’re not demanding or needy, and the two of you only see each other after school. Vernon’s eyes flash red in the mirror when he sees the blush on your cheeks and how shy you’re acting, so he glances down at his phone, now having an answer to your question.

“Yeah, we’re friends.” You bite back a smile at his response, nodding your head.

“I don’t have many friends.” You mutter quietly, and Vernon looks up at you in the mirror as you walk over to the trash can and throw away the now empty bowl that once held the hair dye. He lets out a breath,

“Well, now you have one.”

“And then we divide by…” You mutter the steps to the equation as you do extra practice problems at your desk in your room. The college entrance exam is in a week, and you’ve been trying not to slack off as much as you’ve been doing in the past month and a half.

You set ground rules with Vernon, telling him that this week that you’re going to dedicate all your time into attending the classes and studying after school. The black haired beauty didn’t put up a fight with your decision, just nodding his head and drinking his coffee aimlessly afterwards.

You purse your lips when you mess up the equation, reaching over towards your pencil pouch to grab your eraser, only to jump in your seat when your bedroom door slams open. You turn your head to see Yeona standing there, staring at you with the fiercest death glare she can muster. You let out a breath, “What is it?”

“Have you and Vernon been hanging out after school?” She asks, and you shrug.

“We just walk together.”

Yeona squints, stepping forward when you open your mouth to explain that you’re not interested in Vernon, only to be cut off when you receive a harsh slap to the face. You stare at your paper, the sting on your cheek only registering when you slowly turn your head to look at your cousin.

“What the fuck was that for?!” You shout, standing up from your seat to face her head on. She scoffs, running a hand through her hair and pointing directly at your chest.

“You know exactly what I meant when I asked if the two of you have been hanging out. You know that I like Vernon!”

“I’m not stealing him from yo-” Yeona raises her hand up to slap you in the face again but you grasp her wrist, effectively stopping her from dealing another blow to your cheek. She lets out a scream, and your eyes widen.

“Why the fuck are you screaming! You’re the one who came into my room and fucking slapped me!” You shout as you let go of her wrist, taking a step back from her so that she won’t try and hit you again.

“What is all this noise?” You and Yeona both glance towards your door, finding your aunt standing in the doorway glaring at you. You feel your heart sink into your stomach when Yeona begins to cry, showing her mom her wrist and claiming that you hurt her.

“Auntie, that’s not what happened at all-”

“I take you into my home and let you go to school. I gave you the food and clothes on your back, and yet you give my daughter and I an attitude like this?” You stare for a moment, feeling tears rush to your eyes, knowing that it’s not true. All they’ve done is treat you as some house maid, the only thing they’ve done is let you go to school and stay at their home.

“I didn’t do anything wrong Auntie, can’t you see from the obvious red mark on my cheek that Yeona sl-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence if you still want a place to stay.” Your aunt threatens, and your eyes trail over to Yeona’s, to find her smiling at you.

Biting your lip, you turn away, grabbing your phone from the top of the desk and pushing past them as the tears fall past your eyes. Ignoring your aunt’s shouts, you slip on your sneakers and run out of the house, wiping your eyes as you do so.

You run as far as you can, ignoring the burning within your chest at your lungs desperate attempts to tell you to take a break. You run, and you run, and you run as the tears fall past your eyes. It’s only when you slam into someone and fall backwards that you stop.

Vernon’s ready to mutter a complaint towards the person who bumped into him, only to pause when he sees you with your head in your hands, shoulders shaking as you cry. He crawls over to you and rests a hand on your shoulder, “Yn, what’s wrong?”

You glance up at the familiar voice, finding Vernon staring at you in concern. A sob escapes you, and you cover your mouth to try and silence it. Vernon immediately pulls your head into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you cry. Those walking by glance at the two of you in concern, but the both of you pay no attention to it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Vernon asks quietly, running a hand through your hair to try and calm you down. You close your eyes as your breathing slowly goes back to normal, shaking your head in his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, silent tears continuing to fall.

“Let’s just stay like this for a few more minutes, please.” You request in a small voice, and Vernon nods his head without a second thought.

“Yeah, of course.” He mutters, feeling his heartbeat against his chest as he holds you.

Vernon wonders why his heart is hurting at your sadness, and when he came to care.

You stare at the screen of your laptop, your heart going feral within your chest as you wonder whether or not you should check if you got into SNU. You took the college entrance exam a few months before, and the results of whether you got in or not all depends on you logging in. If you don’t check, then you’ll have a stroke. If you do check, you’ll have a stroke.

You rest your head in your hands with a low groan, “I’m gonna have a stroke either way.”

You recall Vernon’s words, telling you that you should’ve passed based on the fact that you didn’t have any friends before because of how much you studied. To which you called him a bitch and proceeded to put him in a chokehold.

“I can do this.” You mumble, now more motivated as you type in your login. You press enter without a second thought, and stare at your screen as your results now look directly back at you.

REJECTED.

Your eyes trail over the word, and your whole world comes crashing down at that one word. You fall out of your chair, hand over your chest as your heart beats wildly against it.

“No. No, no, no. I have to go, I have to have gotten in.” You mutter to yourself as you stare at the screen, your hopes of being able to leave this hell hole sooner now being pushed back. However, you don’t know if you can stay at this house any longer.

Your phone vibrates beside you on the floor, and you glance down to see Vernon’s name on the screen as he calls you. You reach out and grab it, slowly raising it to your ear. “Yn, did you get in?”

“Can we meet?” You ask quietly, and Vernon’s smile slowly drops from his face at the tone of your voice. He nods his head even though you’re unable to see, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

“You didn’t get in?” Vernon asks, and you nod your head, staring down at your hands as he looks at you with concern in his eyes. You bite your lip in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing, and Vernon reaches out and rests his hand over yours.

“It’s okay, yn. You can just take it again, and then-”

“But I have to leave now. I can’t take it there anymore, Vernon. It’s just been worse since I ran out of the house a few months ago.” You explain, looking up at your friend with tired eyes.

Vernon’s used to seeing your eyes being bright, sometimes even sparkling when you laugh at something he said. So seeing the dark bags under your eyes and the dullness to them is a shock, making him wonder how tired you must be.

“It’s the only option right now, but you can do it. You just have to push through for a little bit longer.” Vernon tells you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, looking back down at the cement as the feeling of defeat continues to linger in your chest. You shake your head, “I shouldn’t have skipped those extra classes.”

“Yn…”

“I shouldn’t have skipped them! If I continued with my plan then I would’ve gotten in, and then I would’ve been able to leave this fucking shit town!” You exclaim, tears now falling past your eyes as you turn your head to look at Vernon. He just stares down at his hands in silence as you continue to cry, and you wonder why you let yourself slack off on your studies because of him.

“Why did I stop trying as hard for my dream because of you? Because of this feeling you gave me?” You ask quietly, letting out a sad smile. While Vernon comes to a standstill at your words. He turns his head to look at you, and you wipe away your tears before turning to stare directly into his eyes.

“What?”

“It’s because of you. Whenever I’m with you, I feel this… this sense of comfort. I feel the weight get lifted off my shoulders, like I don’t have any worries anymore. I would forget about my dreams of leaving this place when I was with you, because it felt like I was already home.” You confess, and Vernon stays silent. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning away after a moment, letting out a small chuckle at how ridiculous you’re being.

“Do you… have feelings for me?” Vernon asks, and you let out a breath, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, I think I do. Considering that I skipped cram classes at the cram school for you.” Vernon looks away, standing up from the bench, and you glance up at him. He stares at you with a blank expression on his face, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I… I don’t do that stuff, yn.” Vernon tells you, and you feel your heart sink slightly in your chest. You cough into your shoulder, thinking of how to respond when Vernon continues.

“I don’t even know why I became friends with you. I don’t do relationships at all, but you weren’t that hard to deal with.” You stare at Vernon with a painstricken expression on your face at his harsh words, but he just continues. “If I had known that you were going to fall for me, then I wouldn’t have even-”

You stand up and slap Vernon across the face, and the silence afterwards seems to engulf the both of you. He slowly turns his head and looks at you, seeing the tears falling from your eyes as you harshly bite the inside of your cheek.

“How… how dare you?” Vernon just stares as you begin to cry harder, reaching up and slamming your fists against his chest. He stays still, not moving as your cries turn into sobs as you hit him. “Y-you ruined everything for me, and you tell me that I wasn’t that hard to deal with?”

After a moment you stop, covering your face with your hands to try and calm down. You’ve decided that today is quite possibly one of the worst days of your life, and you want nothing more than to turn and run from all your problems. So you look back up at Vernon after a moment, and you see his eyes void of any emotion as he stares back at you.

“Don’t ever speak to me again. Don’t you ever try to talk to me, got it?” You state as you poke his chest directly over his heart, and he still stares at you silently, making the pain in your heart grow.

“I can’t believe I thought you could be my new dream.” You mutter quietly. You bite the inside of your cheek, before turning around and walking away from Vernon without another word.

He watches as you grow smaller and smaller as the distance grows between the two of you, until you’re out of sight. He’s used to being alone, he doesn’t do friendships or relationships because of the effort you have to put in. However, a single tear falls from Vernon’s left eye as he glances down at the pavement, only having one question in mind as he does so.

why does it hurt to be alone now?

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hlcreators · 4 years

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AUTHOR REC: louistomlinsons / @adoredontour

Be sure to show some love by leaving kudos and comments!

this town’s just an ocean now (31k)

“I have really great friends. Do you remember Louis? You guys were always hanging out when you were growing up.” Harry remembers Louis. Harry remembers Louis. Suddenly, his throat feels way too dry, despite the ice cream he keeps licking at. He chokes a little on a chocolate chip before saying, “I, uh. I remember Louis.” Her face brightens. “We have dinner every Sunday. He owns the house now. His parents moved further north, and he wanted to stay here, so they just gave it over. Now if you want to worry about someone being lonely, that’s who I worry about.” inspired by watermelon sugar, featuring picnics on the beach and boys being dumb

daydream about me (21k)

“Anything else going on for you at the moment?” she asks, leaning forward on her elbows across the table, mindful of the radio equipment in front of her. “What about you and that Louis Tomlinson?” Harry sputters, mouth moving but no words coming out. She can feel her cheeks heat up, darkening with embarrassment. “It’s not, Louis and I, we don’t—” Harry can’t finish the sentence, tongue heavy in her mouth. She takes a deep breath, thankful they’re not being videoed, and tries again, “We’ve never even met, actually.” alternatively titled 'harry styles does not have a crush on louis tomlinson and other lies she tells liam payne'

robbers and cowards (33k)

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think that you’re enjoying yourself.” The familiar voice immediately gets Louis’ blood boiling, shoulders tensing as he calmly spins around, trying not to draw any suspicion to the pair. “You don’t know me at all,” Louis spits, managing to maintain the polite smile he’s been wearing all evening. “You’re just some asshole who always ruins my nights.” “If I keep ruining your nights, why do you keep going home with me?” Harry asks, taking a sip from his own wine glass. “I don’t go home with you by any choice of my own,” Louis says. “I think you’re annoying and I have no idea how I keep ending up in your bed.” “You end up in my bed because you knock on my apartment door at two in the morning.” Louis wants to punch the smirk right off of his face. “Maybe you should move,” is what he says instead. or a modern day robin hood au where louis and harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more

I’m a Rocket Man (47k)

All he could hear were the faint sounds of Pina Colada coming from the radio and his own heart beating erratically against his chest.

“Oops,” he heard coming from the other side of the front window. He quickly pushed the grey rubber towards the back of the car, the rubber of the thing groaning and squeaking as he did so. Finally, after wrestling the thing away from him, Harry came into view, face pressed against the other side of the window.

“Hi.” Louis smiled, looking towards Harry, eyes curious. He almost got lost in the way Harry’s face was so cutely pinched, green eyes glowing in the sunlight. He was brought back to reality when Harry tried to move, causing the grey whatever it was to push against Louis again. “What the fuck is this?”

“Uhh... it’s Randy?”

or, Niall is an investigative journalist, Liam is his biggest fan, Zayn is just along for the ride, and Harry probably isn’t an alien. A roadtrip au no one asked for.

sip it slowly and pay attention (12k)

“So I’ve got a guy I think you might like,” Louis says. He’s standing in the doorway of Harry’s office, drinking from what is most definitely Harry’s mug. “You’re going to set me up?” Harry asks, rightfully wary. He can’t imagine that this could end well. “Don’t look so afraid.” Louis takes a sip from his mug, wincing as it burns him. Harry rolls his eyes. He’s always warning Louis to be more patient before he loses all his taste buds. “I know you better than anyone else. Who better to set you up on dates than me?” “I guess you’re right,” Harry says, still slightly hesitant. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Louis, but. He doesn’t trust Louis’ taste. Louis has about the same track record with men that Harry does, if not quite as extensive. or, harry is a guidance counselor, louis is an english teacher, and harry just wants to go on one successful date

i hope that you won’t slip away in the night (13k)

He turns back to Maybe Jessica. “Who’s going to be here?” “Harry Styles,” she says. “The one-” “I know who he is,” Louis snaps. “Who invited him?” “Uh, you did, sir.” Louis didn’t think that was serious. When he had responded to Harry’s cheeky tweet about the gala with his own cheeky ‘You should come - I’ll put you on the guest list’ he hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Least of all for Harry to show up. or the one where louis is a prince and harry is a popstar

feels like we’re finally free (13k)

louis just wants to write a breakup novel. falling in love was never part of the plan, but the cute barista at his favorite coffeeshop makes him think otherwise.

who’s that girl? (13k)

“So, do you want to tell us a little bit more about why you’re here?” “What do you mean?” Harry asks, furrowing his eyebrows together. “I’m here because I need a place to live and you guys need a roommate.” “I guess let me rephrase that,” Leo (or maybe Liam) says. He taps his pen twice against the notepad, drawing Harry’s attention away from a large hole in one of the walls. “Why do you need a place to live?” “Oh, that’s easy.” Harry sits up straighter in his seat. “I walked in on my boyfriend of four years banging my boss. I couldn’t very well keep living with them, could I?” harry is canadian, louis owns a bar, zayn comes and goes as he pleases, liam's just trying to keep everyone alive, and nobody knows what niall does. a new girl au.

we’re not who we used to be (30k)

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit. or an exes to lovers canadian roadtrip au

old macdonald had a farm (5.1k)

Louis is a hedgehog, Harry is a fish, Niall is a parrot, Liam is a golden retriever, and Zayn is Zayn. It’s a crazy twenty-four hours.

or are you giving it to someone else (3.3k)

“Dude, last night I couldn’t tell if he was being murdered or having the best sex of his life,” Louis said, taking a sip of his beer. He tried to say it as quietly as he could in the loud pub, worried about who may overhear him. “Is this your neighbor?” Liam asked. He was newer to the group, and therefore, newer to the situation. He had only heard a handful of the stories about the strange things Louis heard his neighbor doing, as opposed to the book Louis could most definitely write about the man. In the hallways, he seemed perfectly normal. He would smile at Louis and sometimes make polite conversation. He didn’t seem like the type to be having loud, kinky sex every night at the craziest hours of the day. But he was. or, louis hears his neighbor having loud sex through the walls and it's not a problem until it is

The F Word (23k)

When Louis finds himself at a party for the first time after his boyfriend cheated on him, the last person he expects to meet is Harry. They hit it off immediately, conversation flowing all night. Louis finally thinks he’s ready to jump back into the dating scene, when a wrench gets thrown in his plan.

Harry has a boyfriend.

Or, a movie AU based on the F word

tonight’s not over (come over and stay) (16k)

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?” Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password. “No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?” “Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis. “Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?” or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel

honey, honey (7k)

another sorority au that no one asked for - featuring squirt guns, copious talks of marriage, and more useless lesbians.

fall in love with the moon (and everything beautiful) (10k)

“It’s adorable that you think you can compromise with me on this,” Louis says. He places his hands on his hips and tries his best to look intimidating. “But I am not budging on this. Every book pun you say will result in one quarter in the jar.” “What jar?” Harry asks. He furrows his eyebrows together. Louis rolls his eyes. “Like a swear jar, but now I’m going to make yours ‘Harry’s dumbass pun jar.’ Maybe I’ll have you put a quarter in for every pun you say, not just the ones about books. Niall was right - you tell the worst jokes.” “One time Niall told me I’d never said a funny joke in my life,” Harry says casually. “Funny. He told me that too.” or, louis and harry work in a bookstore together and harry tells dumb jokes and they fall in love

get a little bit nervous (14k)

Liam goes to say something, probably something dumb, but he chokes on his spit, coughing loudly. The man in front of him is one of the prettiest people he’s ever seen in his life; he’s got thick eyelashes that fan out and frame his dark eyes and tanned unblemished skin. Liam forgets all of his previous thoughts. “You okay, mate?” he asks, concern filtering into his voice. “Yeah, yeah,” Liam says, still choking and coughing. “Sorry.” “We all reacted the same way we saw Zayn for the first time,” Niall says from next to him, laughter evident in his tone. “He’s a god, isn’t he?” or, ziam farmer's market au where liam, louis, and niall work at the produce stand, harry and zayn work at the bakery stand, and nobody's straight

i’ve heard it both ways (26k)

“I, uh.” Harry is scrambling, trying to think of something believable on the spot. He remembers the woman from reception and her phone call and says the only thing he can think of. “I’m a psychic.” Everyone stills. Zayn laughs, Detective Edwards looks confused, and the officer holding the door open looks mildly frightened. “A psychic?” Zayn gets out between his laughs. “I’ve heard it all. You’re definitely spending the night in the holding cell now. You’re wasting all of our time here.” an au based on the tv show psych where harry is shawn, louis is jules, liam is gus, niall is mcnabb, and zayn is lassie.

i just know you (got to taste like candy) (3.9k)

Harry seduces the cute cell phone repair girl with her phone's wallpaper.

i just want you to dance with me tonight (7.6k)

The sorority au no one asked for. Featuring a prank war, Lirry friendship, and useless lesbians.

beautiful wreck, colorful mess (4.4k)

Harry's been desperate to try out the toys she bought for her and Louis.

she says she doesn’t love me (don’t believe her) (17k)

Harry is a disaster gay who works in a coffee shop and Louis doesn't want to admit she's in love.

only you know me (4.5k)

“It’s just unfair.” Louis can’t help her complaining. “You always get these opportunities I would die for to throw parties. I’ve got, like, a billion siblings, so I never get the house to myself. You’re home alone at least three times a semester. Your parents wouldn’t even be mad or anything.” “That’s not even the point,” Harry says, calmly and evenly. Sometimes it’s frustrating to Louis just how easily Harry keeps her calm. “And what is?” Louis asks, throwing a goldfish cracker in Harry’s direction. It misses. “That I don’t want to.” - Based on the prompt, "Nothing really specific just a harry/Louis sleepover while Harry's parents are out of town involving sexy lady times? "

#writer appreciation week #hljournal #1dsource #fics #author rec

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loyally-unfaithful · 4 years

Text

—; i’m bad behaviour but i do it in the best way

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

summary: « as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

the android before you was conflicted. you could tell from his yellow led, which kept flickering and spinning. the guy was seriously debating this. he’s intrigued. he wants to try it out, you just have to egg him on.

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

a/n: the time has come. i have inspiration. i have motivation. i managed to unblock myself. i think it’s because of stress? i couldn’t write because of stress lmfao or maybe it’s cuz of that oc x canon snippet i did idk.

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he quickly replied and picked up the pace, securing his beanie and wrapping his scarf. grabbing his bag, he excused himself: « see you tomorrow, lieutenant. – wait! connor! the younger man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the lieutenant. – just… you know how i feel about [ y/n ]... the android patiently waited for him to elaborate. – if you don’t feel comfortable doing what they want you to do, just... know that you don’t have to. he instructed. and if they force you, or hu— – hank. he gently interrupted. the older man stopped his tirade, a mix of emotions on his face: surprise. concern. annoyance. mostly concern. – hank, he restarted. i’ll be fine. he reassured him. i know you don’t trust them, and i can’t force you to, but have a little faith. “in me” in that last sentence unspoken. – i… fuck, i know… but- he grumbled. just, if you don’t feel safe, call me. ok? – of course. he answered. »

before stepping out of the building, the android looked back at his father figure, « take care, see you in the morning. », he did a small wave and threw his best pacifying smile. acute scans heard the older man’s resigned sigh and the twinkle of lingering concern in his features.

once out of the building, his sensors noted the drastic drop in temperature, the warmth and ambient brightness of within was replaced by the cold and windy dullness. it was a rather chilly night, clocking in at 14 degrees celsius, wind blowing rather harshly. wrapping his coat tighter around himself, he heads for where you normally park: take a right from the precinct, a few blocks away. when he reached you, you were leaning on your motorbike, preoccupied with something on your phone, and only noticing the android through his footsteps. looking up, you smirked, and stuffed your mobile into your pocket: « glad to see that they freed you, you said, flicking a cigarette butt away. – yes… i hope i didn’t make you wait too long? he greeted back. – nah, it’s fine. »

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

the ride to the destination was uneventful: it was the usual fare. you sped through the traffic, weaving through the different vehicles at a speed connor was sure was much over the speed limit (he has since given up on informing you as you seemed to ignore him, not keen on slowing down anytime soon).

this location seemed to be some distance outside of the city, as the street grew narrower and darker. the sounds of other vehicles no longer accompanying them. all he could hear was the air that you were blazing through and the humming of the motorcycle underneath you. the cold wind blew from the direction you were heading, and he could feel the rush of air against his body, a sensation that, he figured, would feel chilly and unpleasant if he could “feel” cold. still, he instinctively clung tighter to your body to preserve body heat. he watched the scenery change, sights buzzing by; the dark sky grew clearer and clearer, until a few bright stars were visible unlike back in the heart of the city.

the motorcycle slowed down to a halt, and he dismounted the vehicle. « here we are, you struck out a hand to dramatically gesture at the building. my usual haunt. »—the android squinted as he scrutinised the place, but before he could get a good look, his sight abruptly turned to black, his eyes not yet caught up with the sudden change in lighting. it was as if someone turned off the light switch, the world suddenly plunged into darkness. and apparently somebody did: you finally joined him after turning off the bike, killing the only light source. nudging him to alert him of your presence, you pulled out a flashlight from your bag and flicked it on, illuminating the area once more. you headed towards the building, and twirled to face him. « tada! my happy place, where i usually come to relax after weeks of finals. you announced pridefully. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

he regarded the place apprehensively. to say that it was what he expected it to be would be lie: what he expected to be a warm and rustic cottage, one that exudes cosiness, turned out to be the old remains of an unfinished construction, merely the skeleton of what would be commonhold. it was dark and dreary, shadows covering the empty spaces and the walls. some of the surface were left unfinished, making the “building” perforated, cold and unfriendly. brutal, even. It was clearly dirty, not taken care of, with rubble littering the floors. he analysed the building and was concerned over its structural integrity. it didn’t seem that stable… surely you wouldn’t…?

you noticed your boyfriend’s souring impression and quickly tried to redeem the monument in his eyes: « that look on you face… you hate this... don’t you? you winced. your question caught him off guard, causing him to fumble for a recovery. – i-uh… no! it… has a unique charm. – you’re allowed to be honest, you know? you sighed. – it’s … certainly not what i had in mind, he winced. you bit your lip in a nervous smile. it’s far from prim and proper for straight laced connor, but you hope that this doesn’t end in a disastrous date. – give it a chance, let me show you up there… you’ll love it! you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. »

entering the structure almost felt like entering a different reality: the white noises of the outside world, the hooting of owls, the chirping and buzzing of insects and the howl of the wind were dampened as soon as he followed you in. it was a different realm, where shade crawled about and reigned, the silence deafening and oppressive. « mind the step. you alerted him. » the murk did not deter you one bit, and, knowing the layout of the structure by heart, you led him through different twist and turns, avoiding what he deduced would be multiple deadends. only the light of the flashlight illuminating the way. he followed you obediently, not straying too far away from you, at the risk of becoming lost in this labyrinth. he observed the environment, perturbed. the area contained so many potential hazards, and the thought that you frequented this place often distressed him slightly: though he did not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, he didn’t like the idea that you could’ve potentially hurt yourself every time you went here. he snapped out of his musing millimetres away from colliding with you and directed his attention to what you were currently preoccupied by: a ledge that led to the second floor. « hey babe… how much do you weigh? he took a few moments to answer, but you quickly rephrased. – sorry, you chuckled, that turned out more personal that i thought. can you give me a leg up? you nodded at the protruding wall. the stairs that lead to the upper floors are blocked by rubble so i’m afraid this is our only way up. »

he simply nodded, you securing your light on your belt as he put himself in position against the wall to boost you up. the climb went through easily, and you quickly turned around to pull him up after his running jump. you both quickly stood up, the android dusting himself, ridding his clothes of soot and dust, before you start your trek once more.

« i was wondering—assuming you usually frequent this place on your own—how do you get over that wall by yourself? he asked. – with great difficulty, you answered truthfully. the android rolled his eyes. – obviously, he says, in that lilt that never fails to make you chuckle. – yeah? well i hope you’re not too tired today, ‘cause we have a bit more scaling to do. don’t want you slowing me down, you teased. – as if. he scoffed. »

once on the highest floor, you led him towards an open chamber whose floor was largely intact but had a large gaping hole on one side—one that helped ventilate the room who, compared to the rest of the building, was properly aerated, the air much cleaner and safer to breathe than the musty and stale odor down below. the opening allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a soft glow, illuminating the occupants with an ethereal white. a second source of light caught his attention: a small fire that you ignited inside a metal drum, a flame whose heat was a pleasant contrast to the cold, an ember that highlighted the place with a stark, warm, orange glow against the satellite’s smooth, cold, bluish-white light.

you sat down unceremoniously on a worn out and unfinished windowsill—resembling more like a vaguely rectangular opening—the android joining you on the opposite side. lighting a cigarette, you took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back and gazing into the sable sky decorated by a plethora of stars. the man facing you mimicked your movements and gazed at the celestial bodies, little lights twinkling in the dark, innocent and brilliant. able to take his time to view the heavens, he noted that it resembles an elysian painting, tinted an aegean blue. accompanying the sight was the rumbles of a rock song he wasn’t familiar with, probably from a rock concert a few kilometres away—making a note to find out and identify the venue. he could feel the deep thrumming of the bass and vaguely hear the melody, and though the dampened music made it slightly harder for him to pin it down, he managed to identify it: a hit song from a local indie band. he turned to face you, your form peacefully resting against the wall behind you, eyes closed; features relaxed. breathing deeply, you blew puffs of smoke with a lazy, yet content, smile.

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place... »

there was a small twitch in your smile, a tell he caught that told him of your nervousness. despite his previous opinion of this place, he could see why you liked it, and considered it your happy place: it was a distance away from the big city, the air pollution and the noise. it was quieter and calmer here, without any of the loud colours and chatter that never seemed to cease. the location also provided a good view of the woods around it and the elegant skies above, along with ambient music. one that certainly fit your tastes, but at a distance that didn’t make the atmosphere overbearing. it was a good place to recharge; to rest and to think, away from the cumbersome responsibilities, if only for a little while.

« i like it... it has a unique charm. he found himself repeating himself. it’s a good place to escape. – do you? as if a switch was flicked, your uncertain demeanour was replaced with a cheeky grin. i’m glad this place grew on you! you stood up and placed yourself closer to the android, sinking back on him. – i... like places like these and exploring them… just glad i didn’t bore you away. »

you sighed as you settled comfortably against his chest, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist to cradle your form in a tight embrace. he replied with a hum of approval. placing a hand on yours, he brings it up and presses a kiss on your palm. you gently caressed his cheek as he did. « i’m never bored when i get to spend time with you, my love. he says softly, earnestly. – you’re not half bad yourself, babe. you replied. »

he smacked your arm in faux disdain as you placed a kiss on his jaw, and the conversation ended after that. It was quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; no, it was a comfortable one. no other words uttered. just the two of you, the crackle of the flame, your thoughts and the heavens. connor is tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, resting his head on the top of yours—his focus switching from the galaxy above and you—while you simply relish on the warmth of his presence and hum along to the song playing in the background. though you knew he meant what he said, you notice him start to fidget and become restless. you’re never sure if it was due to the fact that he was a tireless android or if it was simply a tic of his, but he’s unable to simply sit and be. he’s already analysed all that could be analysed in this place, and you know it’s something he can’t help but do. he had a constant need to be up and about, doing something or preoccupying his mind with something.

« beautiful night, tonight, isn’t it? you started, catching his attention. there was a few moments of silence before he answered. – but certainly not as charming as you. – ha. smooth one, anderson. » the flame in the drum is dying, the heat it brought fading away: an attestation of the time that has passed. it’s been that long huh? the band has changed to a different song, though it shows no signs of finishing anytime soon. you decided it was time to put connor out of his misery and do something else.

snapping up unto your feet—startling the android slightly—you offer a hand and pulled him up: « i got an idea. and it’s probably going to sound like a terrible, inane idea… – how foolish are we talking? he asked, unfazed after going through with multiple of your “dates”; including, but not limited to, urban exploration, base jumping, and graffiti (he still doesn’t know why he agreed… he remembers you saying « rebel against the humans! ») – i mean… it’s pretty tame considering the stuff i proposed before. you shrugged. he raised a brow in suspicion. – you... might be charged with criminal trespass… you admit and he looks horrified. but! but! you continued. that’s only if you get caught! which you wouldn’t be if you’re with me! you reassured him. – what are you planning to do, exactly? – i was thinking about sneaking in the concert and just bask in the energy. head for the moshpit or something. you’re bouncing off your ideas, hoping it might interest him. have fun, enjoy the music. – i’ve researched that venue, it’s a private property! do you know the charges that’ll be pressed against you? he asked, perplexed. – duh! it’s a misdemeanour trespass, as is stated in the michigan penal code: county jail for 30 days and/or a fine. section 750.552.. you answered nonchalantly. it don’t really matter! as i said: we won’t get caught. – how are so calm about breaking these laws? he questioned, perplexed. for a law student, you seem so adamant to break them… – look, con. i’m not gonna force you to do this. i love you, and i understand that you have a reputation to uphold, being a detective and all. you assured him. i don’t want you to feel that i’m peer pressuring you into this. – i… i don’t.. you notice how his eyes shift, looking to the far left, unable to make eye contact. you notice that he’s conflicted, that he wants to do this, but doesn’t. you sigh. – look, we can walk back to the bike while you think about it, and you can tell me your decision once we’re there. alright? »

he doesn’t answer, but you know he heard you, so you start to make your way back down, the android following you wordlessly. once down by your bike, you lean on it—rather similarly to how he met you earlier today—and nod at him: « so? what’s you’re decision? – this sounds like a bad idea… still disagreeing, but not outright denying it. you meant what you said: you don’t want to make him do what he doesn’t want to do, but a partner in crime doesn’t sound half bad. you huff. – connor anderson. the connor anderson himself, who snuck into jericho. the same one who infiltrated cyberlife tower in what seemed to be a suicide mission. is scared of a little trespassing? you teased. live a little! – i don’t see how me committing a crime would contributes to my satisfaction with life. – haven’t you heard? as a wise man once said: “you haven’t lived until you’ve committed at least one blue collar crime” – wh-i… literally no one said that! he sputtered in bewilderment. – i just did… you said as you stomped on your cigarette. or are you calling me unwise? – yes! that’s exactly what i’m calling you! he exclaimed. you chuckled. – oh come on… live a little. it’s not even that bad. you consoled. »

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you seat yourself on your bike and turn back to face him: « so, are you in? a moment of silence. the android seemed to have a renewed confidence. – as a law enforcement officer, what’s stopping me from arresting you right now? his eyes held a newfound determination. you smirked lazily. – absolutely nothing. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

the concert venue was now at a reasonable distance away, and it was within eyeshot. however, that also meant that everything was much louder. he could now feel the boom of the loud music, and make out the lyrics.

« so i’ve stalked this place before, and i know an entry. here’s the plan: we’re gonna immediately go to the right side. the fence that side is less guarded, since there’s a ditch that leads there; we can hide in there. however there was a drone, just one, and a cctv camera—and we also need to look out for guards—alors fais gaffe1 ok? this far along and he still seemed hesitant, so you give one final push. – too late to back out now buddy. you’ll be fine though. just follow my lead and disable that camera. – wait! you glanced back at him. once inside, what do we do? – just act natural and have fun. you grinned. » and with that, you took off, making your way to the future crime scene. he sighed, still unsure on how you managed to coerce him into this, but jogged to catch up to you.

you hopped down in the ditch, connor not too far behind, and you quickly mentioned, while pointing at a sign that said “no androids allowed”: « by the way, you might want to keep that led of yours hidden. i’ve got some bobby pins if you need ‘em. you motioned to the beanie that he was currently adjusting. »

once he seemed satisfied with his changes, you asked him if he could tamper with the camera, which he swiftly disabled. you come out of your little hiding space and start climbing up the chain link fence, telling connor to keep an eye out for the security drone currently patrolling. what you forgot to tell him was the part where you were going to take it out, catching the android off guard as you throw yourself off the top part of the fence you were clinging on onto the passing drone. your swinging and flailing, combined with your weight pulling it down, caused the contraption to crash and the android—who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor—grabbed a metal pipe lying near the barrier and proceeded to smash the machine. chucking the object to the side, he went to help you up on you feet: « are you alright? – i’m fine. you looked at the metallic junk that was once a drone. we make a pretty good team, don’t you think? he looked back at the destroyed drone. – i don’t want to keep thinking about it… – destruction of property. you clicked your tongue. i’m proud of you con. you pretended to wipe a tear off your eyes. – let’s just go. he turned away , and you follow him up the fence with a chuckle. – cheer up con. you hopped over the chain. it’s okay… you’ve done worse. »

he was about to retort, when a figure seemed to head your way, and you both managed to duck out into a corner before being discovered by the flashlight. when it was clear, you snuck out of the hiding spot and proceeded to join the masses. it was different. he’s never been to a concert before. sure, he was a fan of rock, often listening to it with hank, but experiencing it live was so very different. he knew it would be loud, deafening, but he didn’t expect the surge of excitement and vivacity. it was exhilarating, a completely different world: the bright colours, the loud ambiance, the energy of the music. the android couldn’t help, but let himself get a bit excited. he was glad he decided to come though he’d never admit it to you.

you both floated around the edge of the crowd, the venue being full. it wasn’t a particularly big place, but there were quite a lot of people there, you mused out loud. must be a pretty popular band, their song being catchy enough. at some point or another, you both cheered along with the crowd (though he was much meeker in his cries), and for some reason, decided to try and wade through the people to get closer to the front—the moshpit—this time, the android seemed to play along with your plan without complaint.

he sort of wished he had now. you don’t really know when it happened, whether it was when you rummaged through the people or during a collision while moshing, lost in the intensity of the crowd—every member in state of ecstatic delirium. the beanie came off. when he realised, he quickly hid his led, which was a disturbed yellow, and notified you. you didn’t have to hear what he said to know what was happening. you quickly led him towards the “exit”, the immediate crowd—who saw the black sheep—parting like the red sea as you crossed, but as your neared the edge of the venue security finally reached and cornered you. you quickly placed yourself besides connor, sending across a relaxed body language. you discreetly grabbed his hand, and whispered « play along » which he wouldn’t have heard if he were human.

« how may we help you sir? you asked, flashing your friendliest smile. – i’m concerned about this friend of yours… his eyes glanced at your boyfriend, but you keep your eyes on him. connor was unfazed. perhaps because he trusted your ability in getting yourselves out of this mess—awww, you’re flattered—or that his model are used to high stress environment—most likely, but you certainly hope it was also because of the former. this was a darker area of the place, so it would obscure most of your features, and the band was still playing in the background—ignorant to the revelation—which would somewhat hide your voices. – what about him? curt and indignant. – androids are not allowed in this area. he pointed to the anti-android post outside the fence. the fence that led to freedom. i’m going to have to bring him in for trespass, and you for smuggling him in. androids were recognised as their own sentient species, but laws protecting them have yet to be passed: android-free zones were still legal. most places in the city removed their anti-android signs, but people from the periphery seemed more resistant to change. fuck. – oh that old thing? the led? that don’t prove nothing. you shrugged. be cool [y/n]. it’s just a temporary tattoo. motherfucker lost a bet. you thank whatever gods above that the rk800 models could somewhat control their led colour, so that his remained blue. – is that so? he turned to connor. you seemed adamant on hiding that led of yours. the asshat must have a grudge against androids, huh? You wished he’d just kick you out. make life easier for both parties. – it’s a fake tattoo. he played along. and it’s a bad one at that—i don’t want to be associated with those plastics… he grumbled. you cackled. – well, maybe you shouldn’t have lost that bet, michael. the guard in front of you grunted, displeased. he really wanted to bring in an android huh? prove something to someone? or just pure malice? you never really paid attention in psych class. – if that’s the case, since you’re both humans, i’d like to see your ticket. »

you went rigid. clenching your jaw you planned your next course of action. you have your phone in your pocket, but there was nothing. you could surrender it, and run away as he was distracted, but he could then trace it back to you and press charges… you could fight? the both of you could easily overpower him, outrunning him wouldn’t be a problem either. but you’ll never hear the end of it if you decided to hurt someone when you had a more pacifist option, so you chose to run. it was abrupt. you were in a standoff, one party waiting for the other to make their move. and all of the sudden you make a break for it and dash off for the fence, your partner running for it too. there was a bit of a scuffle but you managed to fend him off long enough for you to scramble up the fence. the man quickly caught up and yanked your leg—alarming you—though a well placed kick from the other freed you long enough to jump off into the other side, ready to make a dash for your life as you land.

the two of you ran until you reached your bike, which was quite a distance away (thank fuck for that, at least he won’t follow you that far—unless he’s really fucking persistent), where you collapsed on the spot and panted slightly. the android himself was looking slightly weary. heavy breathing turned into wheezing laughter as the absurdity of what just transpired settled into your mind.

« i can’t believe that actually happened! you exclaimed between laughs. – we barely got out of there! he chided. we were almost arrested! – but we weren’t. told ya’ con. should’a believed me. you tsk-ed, having calmed down from the giggles. i’m insulted to be quite honest. you exploded into another fit of laughter. – i don’t know how i managed to get you to do this with me! you howled. – never again. he stated, a finality in his tone. – oh come on, you loved it. you rolled your eyes. he stared at you in silence, unimpressed. it was true, but you’ll never hear that from him. – i hate you, he frowned. – love you too babe, you responded, running a hand through your hair. »

he sighed and let himself fall beside you. taking out your backpack once more, you rummaged through and handed him an item: an inconspicuous water bottle. when asked what it was, you answered « thirium. that’s what you guys drink right? » as you opened your own water bottle, gulping down its content. he informed you that androids don’t need to constantly replenish the thirium in his body like humans did with water—only drinking them when they have lost a significant amount—but that he appreciated the gesture. “it’s the thought that counts”.

you huffed, slightly bashful, going into a tirade about how you can’t keep up with the constantly evolving technology. « you’re starting to sound like hank now. » he chuckled and you grimaced and pretended to vomit in response, though you joined him in his laughter. you both spent time sitting there. just breathing. coming down from your adrenaline rush.

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

that night, you both slept like a rock. well, you did. you completely conked out. connor peacefully entered stasis as he usually did. you arrived at your flat sometime in the morning and passed out. barely managing to blearily have a “shower”—dousing yourself in water—before passing out.

come later in the morning—when the light shone softly and the white noise of the city: ambient sound of traffic, chatter, chirping of pigeons—you were sleeping peacefully when you felt someone shift beside you, rousing you slightly from your slumber. you groaned as your head gains enough coherence to remember about university and the brunt of the waking world. think you’re gonna play hooky today. maybe kenneth can take notes for you… you made a note to ask him later...

unwrapping himself from you, your partner stood up to get ready to go to work—going off to change into neater clothings that he stored in your house and getting decent—and went off to prepare a pot of coffee for you and stick bread in the toaster. feeling the sudden loss of heat as he went away, your sleep heavy mind blindly felt the portion of the bed that he usually slept on—the right—patting it, looking for the missing presence. this went on for a few minutes and your limb felt heavy as your tired body fell back asleep. you resigned to simply poke your arm from under the cover, hoping it’d catch someone. you were half asleep when the reaching hand finally found something, as it was held and gently guided to another’s cheek, yet another kiss pressed on your palm. you felt your heart melt, and hummed approvingly. « stay. you mumbled. he smiled at your naïve request. – i have to go to work. – skip work… f… ight the government… you yawned. – you know i can’t do that, my love. – i… order you... you sleep riddled mind was struggling to keep up as you slowly dozed again. to… – i’ll see you again this evening, i’ll be right back. oh yeah it’s saturday, you reminded yourself. no classes. you mentally cheered. – okk… you were going to pass out again. »

his warmth left you, and you find yourself yearning for it again. before he left, he glanced back towards you—practically buried under the duvet, only visible as a lump under the blanket and the hand poking through the right side. « i love you, [y/n] »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

work went on as usual. filling reports was boring, but it had to be done. at least he could finish them in record time, built to be more efficient at it than your typical human officer. being a detective assigned to the anti-android crimes taskforce, it was rather quiet right now, and though he was grateful that androids weren’t being harmed, it was terribly boring. though colin, who had to start all the way back at the beginning as a beat cop, seemed to be enjoying a peaceful break. he sighed for the umpteenth time as he fidgeted and fiddled with his coin, having already abused the fun out of his multiple pens and pencils. he missed spending time with you; at least it was exciting and unpredictable (getting to be with you is an enjoyable bonus). he stared blankly at his coin and sighed again. his father figure gave him a look across the desk—“did anything happen?”. he shook his head.—“no nothing bad or dangerous happened while i was with [y/n].”. the android then asked if he fancied a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the road. the old man simply grunted.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

the android thought about walking to stretch his legs. maybe go to that bakery that you fancied so much. you did like the strawberry shortcake a crazy amount. but as he would find out, the slow and easy moments shouldn’t be taken for granted: a very disgruntled man, who stormed in to file a police report, happened to run in with the android, still somewhat deep in his musings. oh boy was he in for a rude awakening.

they both promptly apologise, however, once they saw each other they instantly recognised each other—though the detective kept his face neutral. « you! you’re the fucking android that trespassed into a restricted area! he accused. straight faced, he replied calmly. – i am indeed an android, but i believe you may have accused the wrong one. there often many iterations of the same model. he cursed his stars and the fates that put him in this situation. one that meant he was, as hank would put it, in deep shit. »

he was glad most people didn’t know there were only 2 rk800 currently in circulation: him and his brother, colin, whom he was trying to contact. as connor continued trying to placate the angry man, and deny his involvement in anything, he heard his brother’s voice come through.

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[ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ'ˢ ᵁᴾ? ] > [ ᵀᴴᴱᴿᴱ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴹᴬᴺ ᴼᵁᵀ ᴴᴱᴿᴱ, ᶜᴸᴱᴬᴿᴸᵞ ᵛᴱᴿᵞ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢᴱᴰ, ᵂᴴᴼ ᵂᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴸᴱ ᴬ ᴾᴼᴸᴵᶜᴱ ᴿᴱᴾᴼᴿᵀ. ] he decided to give him a clear picture.

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰ��ᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

[ ᴺᴬᴴ, ᵞᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴼᴺᴱ ] [ ᴳᴼᴼᴰ ᴸᵁᶜᴷ ᵀᴴᴼᵁᴳᴴ. ] [ ᴴᴬᴺᴷ'ˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ᴮᴱ ᴾᴵˢˢᴱᴰ ] and with that, his brother abandoned him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the man was absolutely irate, convinced that he was the one who trespassed in the venue—he wasn’t wrong—be he kept accusing someone of the same profile as him, but named “michael”. you really did him a favour on that one. it seemed like salvation had come however, as hank intercept the confrontation—the man calmed down after seeing a human officer. his brother must’ve informed the lieutenant (connor wants to thank him, but not), knowing how the appearance of two rk800s would only aggravate the situation. through a stroke of luck, the man didn’t have enough evidence to successfully file a report—against an rk800 named “michael”... who didn’t exist.

but to say that hank was pissed was an understatement. thus begins the walk of shame as hank demanded to « talk in private ». at the end of a severe tongue-lashing, decorated with many “fuck”s and “shit”s, he was in a sour mood and positively fuming. forget the shortcake. he was absolutely going to get back at you for this.

you were snoozing peacefully, off in dreamworld, when you woke up to the buzzing of your phone. groggy, you ran you hand under the pillows and felt for the object until you found it. checking it revealed that you 27 missed calls from an unknown number and a few message from them:

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unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

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bzz. bzz. a new message?

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unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

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you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

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connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

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the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

you lived to see another day. hank gave you an even more brutal scolding than what connor received, and you swore that if this were a shitty choice-that-matters game you’d see a metre for his friendship go down. not that there was much there in the first place.

connor gave an even more punishing sanction: he gave you the absolute silent treatment for a month. no talking, no hugs nor cuddles, and only the odd texts once in a blue moon. an absolutely miserable 31 days for you, spent by sulking. safe to say this was a punishment you’ll never forget, and one that will discourage you from ever trying that kind of stunt ever again.

or at least when connor’s around. it’s free game when it’s just you by yourself. connor knows this and simply sighs in resignation and just hopes you don’t get yourself in potentially future career ruining situation...

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

1. french expression that i was too lazy to translate, essentially means “watch out/stay alert”,,, somewhere along those lines, but informal. 2. connard is a french word pronounced almost like connor, but it means shithead. reader i have a strange sense of humour.

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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

Text

You’ve Got the Body, I’ve Got the Alibi

So this is my fic for @sixfanficsarchive‘s random prompt, feat. Anne Squared! This is an absolute crack fic with Stressed!Anna, cause we don’t see enough of her. Sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors, I’m only a robot that beat tumblr’s algorithm. I’ll be making a masterpost soon, so stick around for that.

Here it is! Writing Masterpost

If anyone else ever wants to send me prompts, you are 100% welcome to send your own or use some of mine. (Now featuring random asks!)

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Mentioned violence, mild drunkenness

When Anne Squared decided to go out and get drinks together, they had no idea they’d end up with a dead body in their trunk. Okay, it wasn’t actually a dead body, and it was secured in the back seat, but Anne liked to hype up the drama internally. Cleves was in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead, her eyes glued to the road as she held the wheel in a death grip. “Anne, you better be coming up with a great excuse for what happened tonight, because Jane is not gonna be happy when she sees what you did.”

Craning her head around to the backseat in order to look at the body, Anne shrugged. “She can’t do anything if she doesn’t know it was us. If I get us an alpaca, will you bury the body?”

“One, no!” Cleves shouted, her face turning red, “and two, it’s alibi, not alpaca.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

Cleves liked to think of herself as pretty laid back, but she was reaching the edge of her patience. “Anne, she’s not dead, so we’re not burying any bodies. Though we might be dead if we don’t get her home before Jane realizes something’s wrong.”

Raising her arms in defense, Anne quieted down. “You don’t think she’ll remember this when she wakes up?”

“I think,” Cleves spoke carefully, “she’ll remember getting drunk because of you. I don’t think she’ll remember your… incident.”

Bluntly, Anne rephrased what Cleves said. “So she’ll wake up with a hangover and think that’s why her head hurts, not because I smashed a chair over her head.”

The car abruptly came to a stop, Anne jerking forward in her seat. Cleves turned the car off and unbuckled her seatbelt, opening her door and moving to the back. “I regret being the designated driver,” she lamented. Anne followed Cleves to the back of the car where they attempted to get the other queen out of the back. Anne put her hands under the queen’s armpits and heaved her out of the car, dropping her onto the concrete floor.

The impact made a smacking sound that made Anne cringe. “Ouch.”

Kneeling down next to the body, Cleves picked up the queen’s legs wheelbarrow style and motioned for Anne to grab her arms. Anne rolled her eyes but bent down to pick up the other half of the unconscious queen. Walking backwards was a bad idea for Anne who was still partially drunk. She opened the front door with her elbow and stumbled into the house, creating more noise than she should’ve for someone trying to keep a secret.

The lights flicked on, revealing Anne Squared and their unwitting baggage. Standing on the stairs next to the light switch was a frowning Cathy. Behind her stood a shocked Kat, her eyes dilated and unfocused. “What are you two doing?” Cathy asked.

“Well you see... it’s not what it looks like,” Anne chuckled.

Kat gasped at Anne’s nonchalance. “It looks like you killed Aragon!”

“We didn’t,” Cleves quickly clarified.

“See! It’s not what it looks like!” Anne lifted her hand to fist bump Cleves, only for Aragon’s weight to become unbalanced, causing the body to go flopping to the floor.

Cleves slapped Anne’s hand away when the girl shamelessly waited for the fist bump. “Anne!” Kat whisper-yelled, not wanting to wake Jane up. As bad as the situation already was, angering Jane was something none of the girls wanted to deal with.

“We’re accessories to your crime now, aren’t we,” Cathy sighed, moving down the stairs towards Aragon’s limp body.

Nodding frantically, Anne pointed down at Aragon. “Yes, yes you are. Now help us hide her.”

“Aragon’s not dead Anne!” Cleves cried.

“She might as well be, she’s not gonna move herself,” Anne grumbled.

Cathy waved Kat over and the two of them started inspecting Aragon. Lifting up one of her eyelids, Cathy was met with the whites of Aragon’s eyes. “So what happened to her?”

“She got drunk,” Cleves said at the same time Anne replied, “I hit her with a chair.” Slapping a hand to her forehead, Cleves shook Anne’s shoulders in frustration. “When you commit a crime, you do not sell yourself out.”

Frowning, Cathy piped up, “Actually, not doing that is illegal.”

“Not the point,” Cleves waved her off. “Anne, do you want Jane to make you do all the household chores for the next four months?”

Anne wrinkled her nose. “No.”

Giving Anne a pointed look, Cleves exhaled forcefully. “Then don’t let her find out.” There was practically a vein popping out of Anna’s forehead. She was under a lot of stress dealing with Anne’s antics and it was getting to her.

The first person to notice was Kat, as per usual. “Anna? Are you okay?” the teen asked, her voice quiet, the only one genuinely trying to make sure Jane wouldn’t wake up.

Rubbing her temple, the German queen nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine Kat. Just too sober for all of this right now.”

Cathy nodded and shifted her position so she was standing behind Aragon with Cleves. “How about you and Kat go get ready for bed, and Anne and I’ll make sure Catherine’s safe.”

“Why me?” Anne complained.

“Because this is your mess, now help me pick her up,” Cathy lectured. Anne grumbled but did as she was told, helping Cathy carry the blacked out queen up to her room.

That left Kat and Anna together in front of the still open front door. Kat stood up and closed the door before returning next to Anne. “I’m sorry about Anne, I know she’s a lot,” Kat offered.

“S’not your fault,” Anna mumbled. “I agreed to get drinks with her and Aragon. But I might have a killer headache tomorrow because of her. And unfortunately it won’t be the hangover kind.”

Wincing, Kat put her hand on Anna’s knee. “I’ll make sure none of them disturb you, it’s the least I can do to make up for Anne.”

Anna gave Kat a smile and slowly stood up. “Thanks Kat, I don’t deserve you.”

Waving the comment away, Kat replied, “None of that. Let’s just get to bed and deal with this in the morning.”

The two queens moved upstairs, ignoring the occasional grunt that sounded faintly like Anne, or the signature exasperated sighs of Cathy. It was a miracle Jane was still asleep when they quietly passed by her room. “Do you think we’ll get away with it?” Kat asked when they reached Anna’s room.

Shrugging, the German queen honestly had no answer. “Jane’s pretty clever, and she has almost a sixth sense for this sort of thing. And I don’t trust Anne not to go blabbing off. But Aragon shouldn’t remember anything, so I don’t know for sure.”

“Then we’ll face it together in the morning, won’t we,” Kat said.

“Yeah, yeah we will,” Anna confirmed. “Now get some sleep Kat.”

“Bye Anna, sleep well!”

Closing the door, Anna ran a hand through her hair before flopping onto her bed. “Let’s hope I can sleep at all.”

The next morning the four queens sat silently at the kitchen table, waiting for breakfast to be served by Jane. Jane was none the wiser, happily whistling a tune as she made pancakes. The four queens at the table were all silently holding their breaths, praying that she wouldn’t notice anything. Everything seemed to be going surprisingly well for them which was why they were all so on edge.

Setting out a plate of pancakes, Jane gave a bright smile that only furthered the girls’ guilt. “Why all the glum faces, the day’s just started,” Jane asked.

Before any of them could respond, a stumbling sound came from the stairs. Clutching her head as she made her way over to the queens, Aragon was clearly fighting through a bad headache. “Catherine, are you alright? Did you drink too much last night?” Jane questioned the oldest queen.

“No,” Catherine responded. “I don’t know why my head hurts so much, I wasn’t even drinking alcohol.”

Freezing in place, Cleves and Anne shared a look that could only be described as oh shit.

Wheeling around in place, Jane glared directly at the two main culprits. “Explain. Now.”

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #anne squared #the others are there too #this is basically a crack fic #prompt by @sixfanficarchive #i have no idea what this is #apparently i have a thing for dramatic names that are misleading #yes the alpaca joke is a reference to that one incorrect quote i'll never see again

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deadanddeactivated · 4 years

Text

Jocks and Goths

Fandom: Sanders Sides, Highschool au Pairing: Intruality Characters: Thomas, Logan, Remus, Deceit, Roman, Virgil, Patton Notes: Day 17 for @tsshipmonth2020 - intruality. No this was not written before Dukceit day, I’ve literally written this since posting that. Sometimes fics take three weeks and sometimes they take two hours. This took two hours. Summary: One's a Goth, one's a Jock. They never really meant to become friends.

AO3

Even since moving to Sides High, Patton has successfully managed to avoid Remus Duke. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the guy, although he did find a lot of what Remus said to be… unnerving. And the other did have really large, very toned, mildly terrifying muscles. Plus everything he did was loud enough Patton sometimes flinched.

But! It wasn’t that Patton thought he was bad or anything!! It’s not bad that Remus is healthy, and it’s not Remus’ fault that Patton overhears things, and maybe Remus’ doesn’t mean to be so loud. Patton has nothing against the man himself.

Virgil, however, does.

Patton’s not sure what happened between Virgil and Remus, because it happened before Patton transferred to the school. He’s pretty sure it had something to do with a romantic relationship? Whatever it was, it left the two with a horrible, terrible relationship. They don’t get on, at all. And since Patton is Virgil’s friend (since Virgil is Patton’s first and only friend) doesn’t that mean Patton has to share that grudge? Virgil’s never said Patton can’t be friends with Remus, they’ve never even talked about Remus, but Patton’s pretty sure that’s like… a Friend Rule, or something.

The point is, Patton has managed never to say a word to Remus one way or the other. A carefully held record that’s ruined when they’re paired up for a history assignment.

Okay, Patton tells himself, this’ll be fine. It’s just an assignment, surely Virgil won’t mind. Right?

“Patton Heart, right?” Remus says his name and it takes everything in Patton not to flinch.

“That’s um, that’s me.” He mumbles, letting his pastel blue hair fall in his eyes as he avoids looking at Remus.

“Great.” Remus grins, dragging a seat to Patton’s desk and sitting in it the wrong way round. “You got your heart set on anything for this because I think we should do Bloody Mary, or maybe Genghis Khan, oh! Or Vlad the Impaler!”

“That sounds a bit… graphic.” Patton says. For their project they have to represent a historical figure and the impact they had on the world from a ‘unique’ angle (Virgil would probably complain about how vague the word ‘unique’ was, or maybe he’d complain that Patton has to work with Remus for the project. Should Patton even tell him?)

“Yeah!” Remus grins, like that’s a positive thing.

“Can we do someone that didn’t cause so much bloodshed?” Patton asks.

“I mean, I guess. If you can think of anyone more interesting.” Remus says, sighing like it’s some big request.

“I, um, I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head.” Patton admits, wincing. Remus lets out an exaggerated hum.

“Okay, meet me in the library after school. We can try and find someone.” He suggests.

“Okay.” Patton agrees meekly. Satisfied, Remus gets up from the chair and moves to a different group. A group that has popular people with tone muscles and busy lives.

God, Patton thinks with a sigh, this is going to be a long project. Any project with a jock was doomed to be long.

“You want to get ice-cream or something?” Virgil asks Patton after school that day. Rare is the day Virgil doesn’t have some show rehearsal to get to - lights to set up, props to organize, actors to chase down. The life of a theatre geek is never boring, he often tells Patton, especially a theatre techie.

Which just makes Patton feel all the worse for having to say no.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “I have to work on a group project for history.”

“Who’d you get stuck with?” Virgil asks. Patton hesitates but he can’t exactly lie to Virgil, can he? Just hope that Virgil doesn’t get annoyed.

“...Remus.” He admits.

“Ouch.” Virgil says with a wince. “Good luck keeping him on track for long enough to finish a project.”

“We have to pick a historical figure and everyone he’s suggesting is really gory and brutal.” Patton says, feeling physical relief that Virgil doesn't seem to care.

“Sounds like Remus.” Virgil huffs, rolling with his eyes. “Maybe pick a doctor, that should have enough blood and gore to keep him interested.”

“Oh!” Patton lights up as an idea comes to him. “Mary Seacole! Virgil, you’re the best.”

“I try.” Virgil grins.

Remus likes the idea of doing the unrated nurse from the crimean war and so they quickly get to work.

And they quickly get distracted from work, too, because it seems impossible for Remus to keep his mind on any one thing. At first it’s… well, Patton doesn’t like it. He just wants to get this project done and over with.

But then Remus wears him down.

“I’m just saying, names influence who we are in like. I mean, just look at Ms Maricolt! She looks like a horse!” Remus says at some point near the end of the second day and Patton really, really doesn’t mean to laugh because it’s Remus and the joke is a little mean. But it’s also a pun, and Patton has a soft spot for puns.

“That’s mean.” He says once he’s collected himself, if only out of principle.

“But it got you to laugh!” Remus grins. “And to look at me.” He adds.

Oh, Patton realizes as he quickly looks away again. He hadn’t noticed he hadn’t looked at Remus.

“Aw, no, don’t look away again I like your eyes! They’re really eye-inspiring.” The pun is bad, really bad, but Patton still chuckles.

“That was terrible.” He complains.

“Are you remus-manding.” Remus continues, grinning.

“Oh my gosh.” Patton laughs. “They’re getting worse!”

“Aw, don’t be like that. I think I’m Patt-on the right direction.” Remus says.

“I Seacole what you’re doing here, it’s bad.” Patton returns, laughing at Remus’ gasp.

“Oh it is on goth-boy.” He decides. They don’t do any more studying that day, distracted by their pun-off.

“So are we meeting up again tomorrow?” Patton asks the next day as they back up.

“Can’t do tomorrow, I’ve got training.” Remus shakes his head.

“Oh, right.” Patton says.

“You could come if you want.” Remus suggests.

“I don’t think that’s really my crowd.” Patton mumbles. He can just picture it now, Patton sitting in his black attire, the only colour his blue hair, while the popular kids are right there. Definitely within name calling distance.

Nevermind what Virgil would think. God, Patton doesn’t even want to imagine how bad his best friend would be.

“You’ll fit in just fine!” Remus claims. “Or, maybe not. But I’ll make sure everyone leaves you alone.”

“I think Virgil and I were heading out anyway.” Patton says and then immediately regrets it as a frown takes over Remus’ face. Like he’s tasted a lemon or something else unpleasant. Oh no, now Remus was going to hate him. Maybe he’ll tell Virgil he and Patton were almost-friends and then Virgil will hate him too and Patton will go back to being the friendless loser all over again.

“Sorry.” Remus’ voice cuts through his panic, making Patton look up.

“Huh?” Patton frowns, confused.

“You looked like you were freaking out a bit.” Remus says. “I didn’t mean to stress you out. Virgil and I just don’t get on. Bad breakup and all that, but that’s on us not you.”

“Oh.” Patton says, though he can’t say anything Remus just said commuted just now.

“Hey! Pass me your phone, I’ll put my number in so we can study on the weekend.” Remus decides, changing the subject before Patton can catch up. Patton does what he’s told and soon he has a new number in his phone labeled ‘Hot Jock’. “Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.” Patton says. “Um, bye.”

The project lasts two weeks and in those two weeks Patton and Remus chat. A lot. They talk during their study sessions, they text each other all the time, Remus even gives him a wave when they pass each other in the hall.

It’s official, they aren’t ‘almost friends’ they’re friends. In fact Patton… Patton will admit that he might want to be more than that.

Which means Virgil’s definitely going to hate him.

The thought bubbles in his stomach the day after they hand in the assignment. When Patton has no more excuse for messaging Remus, and yet he doesn’t stop. How is he meant to explain that to Virgil?

Worse yet are the messages he gets that night, when they should both be asleep.

Want to go out this weekend?

On a date

A romantic date

Patton’s half way through answering ‘yes’ when he stops.

He can’t say yes. Isn’t there some kind of code against dating exes? Patton can’t say yes.

Except he super wants to. Very, very wants to.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe he should ask Virgil first. Then there’ll be no bad blood, right?

Patton hopes so.

As for the message to Remus, he doesn’t answer.

Virgil and Patton always walk to school together. They’ve just hit their school’s street when Virgil sighs and stops.

“Okay.” He says. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Patton squeaks. “Nothings wrong!”

“Patton, I know you better than that.” Virgil rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “Just tell me what’s up.”

“Well…” Patton starts slowly then, with a deep breath, he tries to say it all at once. “You know how Remus and I were doing that project? Well we sort of maybe got along and we’re kind of maybe friends, and he asked me out last night. Like out, out. And I want to say yes but I know you don’t like him and I don’t want to lose you as a friend, so can I say yes?”

For a moment Virgil just blinks at him, brain trying to commute the word vomit Patton just unleashed.

“Okay,” he finally starts, “let me get this right. You and Remus are friends, and he asked you out on a date, and you want to say yes but only if I’m okay with it because you don’t want me to be mad you’re dating him?” He rephrases. Patton nods. “Patton, of course you can say yes.”

“You don’t mind?” Patton checks.

“Not at all. If you like him, go for it. We’ll still be friends, I promise.” Virgil says and Patton feels his shoulders slump a little.

“But didn’t you two date? Won’t it be weird?” He asks.

“What?!” Virgil frowns. “Remus and I never dated!”

“What?” Patton frowns right back. Hadn’t Remus said something about a ‘bad breakup’ the other day?

“We used to be friends, us and Dante. I dated Dante, and when we broke up the friend joke kind of fell apart.” Virgil explains.

“Dante?” Patton repeats. “The school captain? I didn’t think he was your type.”

“He’s not.” Virgil confirms. “I just found that out the hard way.”

“Oh, so you haven’t dated Remus and you really don’t mind if I do?” Patton repeats, just to clarify.

“Patton, even if you dated Dante I’d still be your friend.” Virgil assures. “The important thing is that you're happy.” Patton doesn’t mean to start crying but well, it’s just so nice to hear that. Especially after the stress of the past couple weeks. “There, there. You’ll wreck your make-up.” Virgil says, even as he pulls Patton in for a hug.

As soon as Patton’s reapplied, he tells Remus he’d love to go on a date.

They go ice-skating. Patton’s a little nervous, because he’s never gone before, but Remus goes all the time so he’s happy to teach.

“Patton, I’m wearing knife shoes. This is literally my favourite thing. Except you.” Remus says, grinning when Patton’s face goes bright red. They exhaust themselves over the next few hours, skating together and just… enjoying their time. It’s the most fun Patton’s had in a while.

And when it’s over, and Remus has walked him home, he gets a soft kiss (that quickly turns heavy) to remember it by.

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syndianites · 4 years

Text

The After; The Athar: Chapter Four

Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 [Here] - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. Wag escorts Martha to Jordan’s house and decides to have a day out with Sonja.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: It’s Wednesday, totallyyyyyy. Just a little late haha, but here it is! Chapters 1-4 already written out. That means I actually need to finish chapter 5 and continue onward. I mentioned this before, but I’d been sitting on this since September of last year, and had chapter 4 done in... December? Of last year.

——————————————————————————————

“So, did you actually come to talk, or did you need something from me?” Jordan was looking towards the town now, legs crossed. With his arms splayed across the back of the couch, chin up, he looked like the perfect picture of nonchalance.

Wag knew that that was far from correct.

However, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, drawing Jordan’s eye. “Well, I did actually come to see if you knew where Martha was, and if not Martha, Spark.”

Jordan gave him a thoughtful frown.

“Not that I didn’t want to talk to you,” Wag added in, “It’s just that I really need to see Martha. Rip the bandage off as soon as possible. I’m, uh. Breaking up with her.”

Jordan’s face crumpled into a harsh discomfort, like someone had just doused his socks in water and told him all his other socks were missing.

“Ah. That’s. Unfortunate?” He winces. “I’m sorry about your loss. Eventual loss. Yeah.”

Wag shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. “She’s not dying, Jordan. I just realised that we- well, it didn’t matter what I realised. We’re better as just friends, if she’s okay with that.”

Jordan nodded, lips pinched together. “I’m afraid I don’t recall where she was going today. Spark, however, should be at Town Hall handling some paperwork. She might be with him, might not. I’d ask him.”

Getting up with a stretch, Wag replied, “Thanks. The faster I do this the better.”

Jordan stood as well, following Wag to the front door. They stood there. Wag shuffled his feet. “I, uh. I’m not sure where the Town Hall is. Could you show me?”

He had a fair idea, but not a sure one. The Town Hall was a building Wag often forgot about. But not because he didn't care to commit it to memory.

To start, it looked like all the other buildings around it. Acacia based, a foundation of sandstone that peaked up from below the ground, and an easy, sloped thatch roof. It gave the buildings a log cabin feel, while still fitting in with the landscape. The edges were built with acacia logs to bring in a nice neutral gray which held it all together.

Now, if it just looked like every other building that’d be fine. But it also had no marker to identify it as Town Hall. Or, rather, the marker it had was easily mistaken for something else- an open book with a quill. For example, it could be the symbol for a courthouse, or the symbol for a law firm. Or the Records Hall.

Wag didn’t know where the Records Hall was either.

Add in the fact that no one really went in there since the majority of citizens specialized in fishing and you have a place that is forgettable at best.

That being said, Wag would rather have some company on his death march to breaking up with Martha. Using his unsureness of where, exactly, the Town Hall was would be a good excuse to keep talking to Jordan. At the least, it would help with his nerves.

Jordan looked off to the side. “Isn’t it right next to-” He cut off. Thought for a second. “Yeah, it’d be better to just show you.”

Wag smiled. He swept his hand towards the path and gave Jordan a shallow bow. “After you, my dear.”

Shaking his head, Jordan began to lead the way, Wag trailing along just behind his shoulder.

They descended the hill in comfortable silence. Jordan was clearly thinking about something, looking for a good moment to bring it up. Wag welcomed the change from thinking about his future.

He side-eyed him. “Got something on your mind, my good fellow? Want to talk more about how the world has it out for us?”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “No, I think that’s enough of that depressing topic for now.” A beat of silence. “I was just thinking-”

“You’ve got to be careful with that.”

“-Thinking about Tom.”

Wag gasped. “Thinking about another man while we take such a romantic stroll together? How dare you.”

“Yes, walking over to the Town Hall so you can talk to the man who looks like an older version of me and has a superiority complex is so romantic” Jordan wrinkled his nose. It’s not like he’d know much about romantic. Between Jordan and anyone else that was ever interested in him, the other had done more work. Jordan’s idea of romance was probably ‘let’s build some complex contraption together’.

“We could always detour,” Wag suggested, lightly elbowing Jordan’s arm. “Take it across the beach, pick up shells that we’d think the other would like, hold hands and go barefoot to walk in the waves. Call it a date.”

“I beach you it’d be a good time, but I’ll have to wave the idea off. I do have things I want to get done today.” Jordan turned to him with a glimmer in his eyes and a bashful, yet impish smile.

“Wow.” Wag blinked a few times. “That was forced and you know it. ‘I beach you’?” He fake gagged. “So cheesy.”

Jordan turned away with a huff.

Wait.

“Oh, my gosh, wave was also a pun. That was a double pun. I don’t know whether to be impressed or appalled.”

“Thank you, I’ll be taking cash donations for my genius.”

“I’ll be taking cash compensation for having to hear that with my own two ears.”

Jordan laughed, a lovely, quiet sound. It was breathy, and just off of squeaky, but it made Wag’s ears burn.

Weird.

“I’m afraid,” Jordan followed up, “That we have a no refund policy. Once heard you can’t get your investment back. It was on page 8 of the contract you signed upon meeting me: ‘You accept any and all amazing, lovely puns that come out of Jordan’s mouth.’”

“Wow. 8 pages? I don’t remember 8 pages. What I remember was, ‘Hello, I am most likely going to be inside, at home, for most of our friendship. And this is to say I’m not avoiding you, I’m preparing the most intricate, strong things imaginable for when shit inevitably goes to hell.’ That’s not even a page, it was a sheet of paper torn in half.” Was that overly accurate about Jordan? No. But the dig was worth it.

Jordan shook his head, indignant, “I don’t stay inside that much! How dare you assume I’d be able to stay cooped up inside for so long. Clearly, if you wanted to be precise, I would have written ‘I’ll most likely be working on cool and awesome things that make me super prepared to help My Lady in any way possible.’ Inside versus outside means nothing in that regard.”

“Ah, my bad. Let me rephrase that, ‘I am so loyal to Ianite and her existence that I will breathe balance, eat balance, and become balance. People will look at me and think ‘Wow, that guy sure is the epitome of balance. Almost enough to rival Ianite herself.’, except I’ll just look cool and be a good champion.”

“Ok, ok, let’s back up here.” Jordan turned to look at Wag. To look up at Wag, more specifically. Shorty. “Going that far makes me sound like Spark, and I am nowhere near as bad as him. Like, c’mon, he was so dedicated to Ianite he married her.”

They were in front of the Town Hall now.

Jordan lowered his voice, like Spark could hear him. “He honestly needs a hobby.”

Wag shook his head, stifling a laugh.

“Well,” Jordan’s voice rose back to a regular volume. “Looks like we’re here.”

“Looks so.”

They stalled for a second.

“I better get going,” Jordan started. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. I’ll help you with anything.” He side-eyed Wag, a joking look in his eye. “As long as it’s reasonable.”

“That means a lot to me.” Wag smiled. “I promise that my next visit will actually be for you. It’s only fair, especially since you’re a dear friend of mine.”

With a huff and a returned smile, Jordan pushed him along. “You don’t have to promise that.”

“I want to. Since it’s you.”

Wag turned and began walking up the steps into the building.

Jordan felt his heart beat just a little faster. He tried to convince himself that that didn’t mean as much to him as his heart said.

It really wasn’t that deep.

---

The Town Hall was one of the first non-residential buildings placed in the town. In the time that they’d all been gone, there had been some remodelling to the valley.

The first, most prominent, in Wag’s opinion, change was the removal of the Dianite statue head thing. If it was still there, Wag would not have built his tower right next to that. No siree.

The rest of the changes were fairly mild: the paths around were fiddled with to give access to the beach and town buildings, the farms were cleaned up, and so on.

Now, the Town Hall was delicately placed between the farms and the Tea Pot. The Tea Pot which was left standing. In all the revisions that were made to the land, someone looked at the Tea Pot, looked at the space it took up, and decided it should remain.

There was a goddamn Tea Pot next to Town Hall.

And Wag still struggled to remember where the Town Hall was.

Needless to say, Wag head inside, giving a wave to the secretary. While there was no official “Mayor” of the town, there was a general administrative body made up of some of the townsfolk. It was a democratic setup, which leaned towards a more free-market, socialist style of living.

Quite the turn around from Ruxomar.

Spark, it seemed, had either learned from the eventual disaster that was Ruxomar- not that he was there to see its final collapse- or wanted a change of pace, seeing as he founded Dagrun under a monarchy. To be fair, there weren’t many people around to start a kingdom.

After Wag exchanged conversation with the secretary and was waved towards the back, he found Spark. His office was small with a full window alongside one wall and a desk with neatly organized papers set up in multiple stacks. He sat behind the desk, pondering over a sheet laid before him, reading it with careful eyes.

He looked up at Wag’s entrance, a polite smile forming on his face. “What brings my daughter’s favorite wizard around today?” Spark stood, moving around the desk to offer a handshake in greeting.

“Oh, only Martha’s? Not yours?” He took the hand, trying to give a firm shake despite his nerves. “I came here to see if you knew of Martha’s whereabouts. I have something I need to talk to her about.”

Spark took a step back. “Ah, she just stepped out to grab some records from the Record Hall. She’ll be a few minutes at least.” He moved back to his desk, motioning for Wag to sit in one of the guest chairs.

Wag sank into it quickly.

If Spark could see he was nervous, he said nothing. But Wag was sure it radiated off of him, from the way his fingers drummed against his legs, to how he would look at the door every so often, to how he kept shifting in his chair. He’d thought the walk and quiet pondering over the town’s brief history would help.

It didn’t.

Still, they sat in silence. Outward silence. His thoughts fought to be heard, to break out from the delicate prison he’d pushed them into when he steeled himself to potentially see Martha here, next to Spark.

“Can I ask you something?” Wag blurted out. Spark looked up. “If you’re- if you’re not busy, that is.”

He set aside his pen- something he’d carried from Ruxomar- and gave him an inviting wave.

“What’s the difference between loving someone and being devoted to them?”

Wag bit his lip as Spark mulled over an answer.

“That depends,” he said, after a moment. “What kind of love and what kind of devotion?”

Wag could see in his eyes that Spark knew what he meant, but was giving him space to elaborate on his issue.

He has to know, right? What I’m about to do.

“Devotion to,” Wag took a breath, “To your goddess versus the love you have for her.”

Spark stretched and sat back in his seat, relaxed. “It’s based in different things. Devotion is based on a shared belief, a shared idea. I followed,” Spark swallowed hard, “My goddess because I, too, believed in the balance she stood for, and the peace it upheld.”

He swiveled the chair half-way around to gaze out the window. “I loved her because of who she was. Her laugh, her smile, her energy and joy and spirit and how she’d get that sparkle in her eye when she’d see me, a mix between something soft and something loving and-”

He clears his throat, clearly holding back emotion. “I loved her because she was everything right in the world. In my world.”

Wag did not mean to open up something this heavy for Spark. But he wasn’t done with his questions.

“Did being in a relationship affect how you followed her?” He shoved his hands underneath his thighs to stop from fidgeting.

“Yes. And no.” Taking a moment to compose himself, Spark swept his eyes across the landscape, the solid silhouette of Jerry’s Tree in the background. “After getting together, I was devoted to her in the sense of any typical boyfriend; I doted on her, did romantic things with her, the whole shebang. In terms of being her follower and champion, I knew when to be professional and to act upon our shared belief system. It took practice to not let one bleed into the other, but I made it work.”

Though Spark wasn’t looking, Wag nodded.

“How.” He cleared his throat. “What would be the best way to... separate that? To pull apart your devotion and your relationship so they don’t affect each other?”

Spark turned back to him, his figure highlighted by the glow from outdoors, creating a regal picture of a tired, broken old man. “Separate them? You don’t. You can’t. It’s impossibly hard to have the maturity to stop your feelings from changing how one part of your relationship goes.”

“To be a lover means to be ready to defend your partner at all costs, just as you would a champion. To be a champion means to love your goddess to the ends of the world, just as you would a lover. Devotion and love are centered from different places, but once your feelings in them cross they cannot be unlinked.”

“But they’re not the same.” Now Spark was starting to get confusing and muddled to Wag. “

You just said so! Loving someone can come in different forms. You can love your goddess and not be in love with her.”

“But you still love her, regardless of which side you love through. Champion, partner, it's all love. If you let them slide together, they die together. What’s the difference? What creates that gap?” Spark had a glint in his eyes, now, something removed from the quiet, tender sadness from before.

“There’s a big difference!” Wag freed his hands to gesture wildly. “To love your partner is to cherish every moment with them, to be apart and still, somewhere in the back of your mind, be thinking of them. You see sweets, or goodies, or just nice things and think about if they’d like them, or you see the soft purple of lilac and think of their hair, or wander past a library and think of spells and sitting up late at night pouring through books. Or-”

He threw his arms up. “Loving your goddess is different, I think. I’ve never followed one before this. I followed a god without any care for that god. I didn’t even really follow him, we followed something adjacent to him.”

“And,” Wag breathed, “loving your goddess is like seeing the value in what they preach. Like.” He was frustrated now. Didn’t he just tell him that love and devotion came from different things? If that was the case, how did being a champion in a relationship with your goddess stop that from being different things? “Like how you devote yourself to an idea!”

Spark raised an eyebrow. “So? You devoted yourself to the idea of being in a relationship with her, you crossed that divide and filled it in.”

“But I didn’t! I just built a bridge over it and tried to figure out which side I was on.”

“Which side are you on?”

“I don’t know!” Wag was starting to breathe heavily. It was like every moment he had built up his confidence to cut it off with Martha was being uprooted like grass in a plowed field. “I just don’t want to be in the middle anymore.”

Spark watched him silently. He wasn’t going to give Wag a break this time.

“It’s terrible.” Wag continued, quieter. “Being stuck between the desire to stick by her side and protect her and the desire to be right beside her and love her, and hold her, and be the one person who can always make her laugh.”

He looked away, towards a wall with an older oil painting. “But that’s the thing. I don’t have to choose. We chose on our own without knowing. We drifted away, lost to our own problems and grief. The bridge back to her side is broken and torn and I don’t think I have the strength left in me to repair it.”

“Don’t have the strength, or are scared to?”

“Both! Neither? Fuck, I just.” Wag shook his head, trying to rattle his thoughts enough to make sense. “I can’t promise that if I do fix things they won't break again, weather down and fall away under my negligence. And I’m afraid of what would happen if I let things get that bad again.”

“Fear is natural.” Spark eyed him up and down. “But you can’t let it get in the way of your life.”

“It’s not. I swear it isn’t. But we feel fear for a reason and that’s to stop us from making poor decisions.”

“But sometimes fear is a knee-jerk reaction, what you feel when you’re uncertain or when things change around you and you’re not ready for it.”

“I’m not,” Wag whispered. He cleared his throat and tried again, louder. “I’m not ready for change. And that’s ok. It’d be better to take a step back and see what I need to do to be ready and to adapt, rather than to try and go arm deep into whatever mess comes my way because I’m afraid of losing everything I love.”

“Even if that means losing your relationship with Martha?”

“I’d rather be friends than nothing at all.” And that was the truth. For all he cared about her romantically, he also cared about her as a friend. As someone who’d been through hell and back with her. You don’t just leave people like that behind.

Spark nodded. “Then you know what you need to do.”

Now that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. “Wait.” Did I just get lead on? “Was that whole conversation just a way to make me figure my shit out?”

“I wouldn’t say it like that,” Spark was smoothing out the papers on his desk. “But yes, I did pull the conversation in a way that made you think about your decision. I wouldn’t contradict my own words without purpose.”

“I doubt anyone does.” Wag rolled his eyes. “So you approve? Of me choosing to break up with Martha?”

Spark looked up at Wag, already having grabbed his pen. There was a beat of silence. Wag started to sweat.

After all of that, surely he does?

Silence.

Right?

He felt like a kid that got sent to the principal’s office. Getting stared down by the head honcho that doesn’t want to see you in front of them but also doesn’t want to let you off easy.

Still, he was scrutinized.

Holy shit man.

Finally- finally!- Spark looked back down.

“I’m impartial,” he said at last. “To be honest, it’s not my issue. While I do want the best for my daughter, she is a grown woman. You are a grown man. My approval shouldn’t matter here.”

Wag relaxed. He had a point.

Spark shook his head, signing off on a document and moving it aside. “I had the same doubts about my relationships when I was your age. That was before-” he coughed. “-you know, and when I still fancied this lovely lady from my hometown. We’d been going strong for a while, but I was dedicated to my faith and she was not interested in faith at all.”

He tsked. “We wouldn’t have worked out at all, no matter how much I cared for her. Still kept in touch until,” Spark gave a pointed look around, “This happened.”

“Okay, grandpa.” Ah, yes, he definitely wanted to hear about Spark’s love life.

A thought struck him.

“Now wait a second, when you were ‘my age’?” Wag glanced over Spark. “I’m older than you.”

Spark chuckled. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m sure we can both see I’m older than you.” He tilted his head to the side. “See that gray? That’s age and stress. Enjoy your youth while you have it.

“I’m a wizard.”

A narrowing of the eyes.

��I’ve been a wizard.”

He sat back in his chair.

“I’ve been a wizard for a long time.”

Spark turned his gaze back to his documents. “You must be pulling my leg.”

“No, sir, I am not.” Wag was fidgeting again, this time bored. “I think I’m a little over a century old? Maybe more.”

“I can understand you being a wizard, but there’s no way minor magic- non-divine magic- could extend your life.”

“I killed a god to become a wizard.”

Wag stared Spark down with a straight deadpan. Spark’s mouth worked at a response.

He’d never get one.

“So I didn’t find any proof of purchase document for Lichens- ah, hello Wag.” Martha stopped dead in the doorway, face stuck between surprised, pleasant, and a flicker of discomfort. “To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit?”

Well. It seemed Martha found him.

Now that they were both staring at him, Wag felt far too exposed. He tugged at his hood. It was already as low as it could go on his head. That didn’t make him feel any better.

So he opted for a smile instead. “I needed to talk to you about something Martha.”

She exchanged a glance with Spark, who had a thoughtful look in his eyes. It was the kind of look that said they’d talked about him before. And, based on the look he gave Wag in turn, it was not a very positive kind of talking.

Oh dear fuck.

Martha gave him a shy smile. “Can it wait? I need to wrap this up real fast. Then, after that, I should be free for a bit.”

It couldn’t. If it did, it would never happen. Wag knew it wouldn’t. From the way his heart stuttered to the way his hands shook, he knew that if he gave himself the time to back out he’d take it. And as much as he didn’t want to make an ass out of himself by saying no, wouldn’t trapping them both in this be worse? Keeping the two of them together to pretend that things were going well?

No, it couldn’t wait.

The words, however, stuck in his throat. He shook his head. Took a breath. “I’m sorry, it really can’t.”

Martha took it in stride. “Alright. This must be important to you, let me set this down and I’ll be right out.” She motioned him to wait outside the door.

Wag took the opportunity. Once safely in the hallway, alone, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

Calm down.

It wasn’t like he was signing his life away. Or like he was telling Martha he killed her dad. They were just breaking up.

But it felt like it was more than that. It felt like he was betraying her, like all those promises he made were for nothing. Hadn’t he said he’d follow her to the end of the line? That he’d be her champion? What would become of that if he broke up with her?

Where did devotion and love meet and where did they separate?

Wag wasn’t sure anyone knew. It was a challenge to be in love with a goddess.

The sound of the door swinging open caught his attention. Martha stepped out, smoothing her shirt out. She caught his eye and sent him a smile. He gave a shaky one back.

“Gee, Waggles,” That nickname hit something soft in his chest, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were going to break up with me.”

Fucking shit.

He sat silent as his mind fell down a flight of stairs.

Martha caught on. “You, you are, aren’t you?”

Her eyes were wide, now, and Wag wasn’t sure how to follow that up. This was not going as he’d planned. Except, he hadn’t really planned it so much as made a vague idea about how he was going to.

Get your shit together man, now's the time.

“Yes.” His voice strained and he cleared his throat. “I am.”

Before she could get in a word, he pushed onward. “And it’s not because I don’t love you. I do. I love you so, so much. I’d follow you to the ends of the world, spread your name as your champion until my voice ran out, I would-” He stopped himself. This was supposed to be a break up. “I would do a lot for you.”

He took a deep breath.

“But I’m not what you need.”

His heart was free falling, bouncing between his hard and fast love for Martha and his desire to be loved. Between knowing they weren’t good for each other- not anymore- and wishing that they could be.

“What are you talking about?” Martha’s voice, though she kept her volume level, was thick with emotion. “Of course you are. I love you so much Wag, what would I do without you?”

“I’m not!” He swallowed heavily. “You don’t love me the same. I don’t love you the same. Haven’t you seen it? How we never see each other? How we can’t be around each other without walking on eggshells? How it feels like there’s someone missing that I could never replace?”

Martha had loved Steve so much. And she’d loved Wag. But after everything, he’d realized that they’d grown apart. That for all they loved each other, they didn’t.

Wag took a brave moment to look Martha in the eyes. Her tears were held back by pure willpower and rapid blinking. Her mouth was set in a thin line. For all she was trying to keep her cool it was breaking at the seams.

She was quiet. Wag could practically feel the storm of thought and emotion rolling off of her. A whisper. “You’re right.”

He held his breath.

“You’re right. You can’t replace him. No one can. But you don’t have to. Why can’t I just love you and him both? What’s wrong about that?”

No, no, no. That wasn’t his point at all.

“You can.” His voice was just as low. “Of course you can, there’s nothing wrong with that. But you’re letting your love for him get in the way of us. Your grief, your longing, your bone deep aching for him is all you see when you’re with me, isn’t it?”

“No!” Martha looked away. “Yes. Kind of. No. I don’t look at you and see Steve. I look at you and see you and I think about how much it would hurt to lose you. Like I lost Steve. How much you mean to me, how much he meant to me.”

She had closed her eyes now, putting her hand over her mouth.

“I miss him so much. Sometimes it’s all I can think about. There are days were I long to go home and see him, to be able to hold him again. But I remember that he’s not there. The thought of going home without him feels awful.”

Wag was torn, again. He felt awful to make Martha talk about this, to make her relive every time she missed Steve, mourned Steve. But on the other, this was where they were falling apart.

“I’m not innocent in this, I must admit.” He started slowly. She looked back at him, tears on the verge of falling. “I feel like I’ve lost everything. My old life, my fellow wizards, the world I used to know.” Wag couldn’t meet her eyes on the next sentence. “My powers. They haven’t come back.”

“And I’ve drawn away from everyone and everything. Even you. And as easy as it would be to blame you for us falling apart, that’s not fair to you or to your grief. But we can’t keep killing ourselves like this.”

Martha had wrapped her arms around herself now. She pushed her chin up. “You’re right. Again. This dance we’ve been performing, it’s gone on long enough hasn’t it?” A wet laugh. “We can fix this now, fix,” she gestured between them, “Us. Now that we’ve pulled the facade away. That’s the first step, right? Taking down the act.”

Wag shook his head. He wanted to. So badly. To let this be the start of something better, to remake what they had. But the roots were rotten, not just the tree. Even if they cut off every dead branch, they’d only die out again.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m not ready to try again.” His voice wavered. If he could cry he would.

All he had were tears of blood, ever streaming.

She was quiet. Then she bowed her head. “I understand. And I’d need time, too, if we were to try again.”

The conversation fell off, but it didn’t feel resolved. Wag pushed up the energy to ask one last question.

“Will I- will I still be your champion?” It was a dangerous question. And yet, still not the one he needed to ask.

Martha appraised him. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to deal with my champion being a recent ex.” Nonetheless, she gave him a watery smile. “I’ll let you know when I make a decision.”

Wag nodded. Already, she was piecing herself back together. Faster than he ever could.

She went to turn away, opening her mouth to say one last thing, but Wag interrupted her. “Will we still be friends after this?”

A laugh, real this time. “Of course.” She shook her head fondly. “Goodbye Wag. Until we meet again.”

“Until we meet again.”

Martha made her way back inside, most likely about to tell Spark the news.

He felt detached from the world, thoughts echoing farther and farther away with each step Martha took. His eyes tracked her, watching how her hair moved, the grace in her stride- even has her body shook with hurt. Her neatly pressed and clean clothes, changed up from what she had worn in Ruxomar. A breathable, white silk long-sleeved shirt and dark leggings.

From the way her fingers curved in an elegant arch against her thighs to how her shoulders had slumped ever so slightly before the door closed behind her. In his head he could see her eyes sparkling, a lovely lavender to match her hair. He could hear her laugh, her voice, see her radiant smile that he always sought to draw out.

Wag could feel the floor disappear out from under him, feel himself sinking into the void. Empty, empty, empty. A chapter of his life was over, now. And it was by his own hand. For all he had feared change, he had caused it.

Was this better or worse?

A quiet, muted drip caught his attention. The world blurred back in. Wag looked down. A tiny, pink-ish speck on the floor. Another joined it with a plop. A shaking hand rose to his cheeks. Still bloody, but when he pulled it away it was also pink-ish. Runnier.

Tears.

He wanted to laugh. Instead, he strode out of the Town Hall, finding the familiar path home in a daze. A pink trail of bloody tears followed him.

He was going to miss her.

#sparklington #mianite #mianitefa #james hayes #jordan maron #waglington #captain sparklez #martha the mystic #spark conway #martha conway #the after series #if you look at my tags here and look at the tags on the first chapter #you can see where i started to get lazy lol

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thebestworstidea · 4 years

Text

Crash and Burn

(Falling Star)

(Implied Dukeceit, Implied intrulogical, Remus-typical dialogue and imagery.)

Thomas is feeling better, and ready to dive back into making videos. Something is a little off, however...

“What is up everybody?” Thomas said cheerfully into the camera. “I know it’s been a hot minute, but I had to go back down to like, the fourth video and take the time for me I needed, and that can take a while. But I’m feeling better now, energized and raring to go. So it’s time for some good old-fashioned brainstorming, and for that I’ll need my brain” he gestured towards the entryway, and Logan rose up with a resigned expression.

“Good afternoon Thomas. Surely there has to be a more efficient way to do this?”

“This is more fun!” Thomas retorted. “And I’ll also need my-” he gestured towards the television and Logan surged forward a little bit

“Perhaps you shouldn’t-”

There was a laggardly pause, then a strain of music played- distinctly not an airy flourish.

“No wait wait!” Thomas made a pushing down gesture, but it was too late. Remus had arrived with a wine glass full of something white and opaque, and what might have been fingers sticking out of it. He stuck one in his mouth and crunched.

“I brought snacks!” he said cheerfully, toasting with the glass.

“Remus, what are you doing here?”

“You called for your creativity! And here I am.”

“I called for Roman”

“Yep.” he scooped out some of whatever was in the cup with the orange stick, and licked it off. “You got me though.”

“What is that, puss and fingers?”

“Uh, no. It’s Pumpkin-spiced greek yogurt and baby carrots.”

“Somehow worse.” Thomas winced. “Wait, that’s a seasonal flavor, where did you find that?”

“Where do I find anything good to eat? The back of the fridge.”

“It’s May.”

“I grew the carrots.”

“Baby carrots aren’t actually young carrots, they're just tumbled pieces of larger carrots.” Logan protested.

“Tell that to my nursery! They’re so cute in diapers.”

“Remus what did you do to Roman?”

“What did I do to Roman?” he gave a stuttering laugh. “What did you do to Roman.”

“Is he still upset about…”

“Roman has been… less than communicative of late.” Logan put in. “You can still ‘brainstorm’ you said without him-”

“Take me off the bench!” Remus urged. “Or take me over it, both sound fun.”

There was a pause as both Thomas and his Logic stared at Remus, who took a slurping sip of his snack, leaving yogurt in the edge of his mustache.

“Where is he?” Thomas demanded. Remus straightened up a little bit and wiggled.

“Ooh I love it when you get commanding, Tommy. He’s in the Imagination, playing petty tyrant.”

“Is that bad?” Thomas asked Logan.

“Well, yes and no. Bad for you? No, you’re still able to access the things Roman brings to the table. You haven’t had any problems getting ridiculous crushes on semi-celebrities, acting, or thinking of ideas, this was just a formal brainstorming session, probably because you didn’t have a better idea for a video besides watching Roman and I ‘Go At It’.” Remus snorted with amusement. “Bad for Roman? Possibly.”

“Uh, that’s not the way ‘go at it’ is normally used.” Thomas said, looking a little uncomfortable.

“It is not used to indicate conflict?”

“It’s more often used to indicate fucking.” Remus corrected “Like ‘watching two dogs going at it’.”

“I assumed it meant fighting.” Logan pulled out a card and jotted something down on it. Remus took another sip of his yogurt, and stuck a carrot in his mouth like a cigar.

“Say, did you know that rabbits don’t actually like carrots that much? They can get sick if they eat too many.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it was Bugs Bunny making a reference to a popular movie star smoking a cigar.” Remus went a little starry eyed. “Bugs Bunny is a chaos god of an influencer. Instagram wants what he has.”

“Well that’s a piece of my childhood destroyed.” Thomas sighed.

“Much like that poor rabbit’s colon.”

“He’s right, carrots are mainly fructose and fiber, though they do contain several nutrients. They’re far from the healthiest vegetable available.”

“Doesn’t matter, still hate them.” Thomas pushed his hair back from his face. “Can we get back to my missing Roman?”

“Have you been missing him?” Remus asked, eating the last of the carrots and tossing the wine glass over his shoulder, behind the TV. Thomas assumed it was imaginary, but he winced anyway.

“I thought I was giving him space to calm down.” Thomas said in a small voice.

Remus cackled. “He hasn’t come out of the imagination in weeks, he is in no way calmed down.”

“Which does bring me back to the ‘possibly’ I mentioned earlier.” Logan put in. He paused and didn’t say any more.

“Are you trying to be ominous? Because you’re being kind of ominous.”

“That wasn’t my intent, Thomas, I simply wanted to be sure you wanted the information.” he cleared his throat. “You are aware of our ‘rooms’ at this point, where some of our traits are, shall we say, prevalent.”

“You’re soaking in it.” Offered Remus, picking bits of carrot out of his teeth.

“Not inaccurate. This shall we say field of effect can have a negative effect on sides that don’t share the right- there isn’t really a word for it- call it theoretical biology.”

“What does this have to do with Roman?”

“Bear with me please, I’m getting to that. It can have a negative effect on other sides, but a positive effect on the side to whom the ‘room’ belongs. It can increase stability, reinforce tasking, and give a feeling of wholeness.”

“Patton got over excited and effusive in his room though-”

“That’s just Patton. Particularly Patton who is trying to avoid a subject.”

“I keep telling him that talking about his last bowel movement works so much better to get people to change the subject, but apparently that’s a shitty idea.” Remus put in.

“At any rate, Roman’s room-”

“Our Room”

“‘Creativity’s room- Enhances shall we say, flights of fancy, visualization, and to a certain degree, emotional responses.”

“And that’s the Imagination you guys have been talking about?”

“Nope!”

“The imagination is part of you the same way we are part of you, just not anthropomorphized.”

“Make me sound like a furry there, Logan.” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“Ugh.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, and continued. “Other parts of your brain are the subconscious, autonomous functions, and your memory archives, both short term and long term. Most parts of your mind interact. What we call the mindscape is basically the place between these parts. We, that is your Sides, live in that area. While we each have our ‘rooms’ our corners of your mind, we also have a common area, which is more or less where you go when you want to talk to us, it isn’t very deep into the mindscape, a surface level daydream. You don’t even realize you’re not quite in the real world.” He looked at Thomas. “Are you… following any of this?”

“Uhm. I’m going to nod, but I’m also going to admit I’m probably not going to retain much.” Thomas smiled weakly.

“As per the usual.” Logan huffed. “Do you wish me to continue?”

“I need you to get to the point.”

“Roman isn’t spending time in his room or even the mindscape to refocus. He’s spending all his time in the imagination, instead of just most of it. This isn’t interfering with his function, so much as how he interacts with it.”

“He’s throwing a hissy fit. But he doesn’t want to duck out, he just wants attention.” Fingers looped as if he was holding something Remus shook his hand up and down from the wrist. “But because he’s pretty much barricaded himself in the imagination to play at being a villain, no one can get to him.”

“I’ve been trying-”

“Yeek!” Thomas jumped as Patton rose up.

“Sorry sport.” Patton smiled weakly. He looked a little tired and stressed. “Like I said, I keep trying to talk to him, but I get lost, then I end up back outside the imagination again.”

“Which at least mean’s Roman’s family-friendly rules are still mostly intact, despite his prolonged sojourn.” Logan commented. “Regardless of this delusion that he’s developed.”

“What delusion?”

“Roman tends to think of things as pretty black and white.” Patton bit his lip “I have trouble with it too. I’ve been working on it. Gosh, I sure have a lot to work on. Uhm, so when he felt that he wasn’t your hero; if the person he thought of as the villain wasn’t a villain, he had to be.” Patton rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “He had a little problem after we got Virgil back, but the whole thing was, you know, gradual. Roman could rephrase him as kind of… you know those dark brooding characters in movies that love dogs, and have a heart of gold? Like that.”

“Besides,” Remus pointed out. “He’d decided that he didn’t like Virgie, but that he was his. Him and DJ are alike in that they get super possessive. DJ was never his villain, just the villain. He’s my villain.” he added under his breath smugly.

“What does that mean? I thought you two were like, friends. In cahoots.”

“‘friends’ “ Logan said distantly.

“Look at it this way Thomas; What does Roman inspire you to do? Get out there and put yourself in front of a lot of people to perform. What makes that less likely? The fact those people are going to judge you with no context what-so-ever.”

Thomas had to admit the thought made him shudder.

“What do I inspire you to do?”

“... swear? Masturbate? Eat things I find on the ground?” Thomas thought for a long moment “ … Jump out of a moving car?”

“That’s the one I was thinking of. And staging it for a vine doesn’t count, btw, it’s still on the to-do list.” Remus smoothed his mustache. “And what does DJ do? He comes up with excuses for the swearing. He’s self preservation. He stops you from destructive behavior. Well, except for the chips.”

“Do we have any?” Logan said without thinking, looking over his shoulder. “No, wait, focus. Thomas you’re going to need to have a healthy snack after we’re done here.”

“You should try the carrots and yogurt.” Remus urged, as Thomas and Patton made identical expressions of distaste. “Deodorant then?”

“Roman!” Patton urged. “We need to get him out of the imagination before he forgets that he’s not a figment!” he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “I don’t want to stand next to Remus for the rest of our lives.”

“Love you too, Daddy Dearest.”

“I ... love … you I just don’t love the way you smell.” Patton said uncomfortably. “I’ve made up my mind that I was wrong and I can … care about you, even if you’re really scary.”

“If you give yourself a hernia, I will poke it.”

“Can that happen?” Thomas demanded of Logan. “Can Roman just… forget who he is?”

“The short answer is yes. He can. He’s always come back to himself before, but he’s always been much more himself when he forgets before this, so- the data is inconclusive. For now, we can’t seem to reach him.”

“Leaving me to answer the call as your imagination.” Remus leaned forward, as much into Thomas’s space as he could outside of daydream mode. “Use me.”

Thomas leaned away, laughing uncomfortably.

“Can I use you to come up with a way to get Roman back?”

“If you’re going to be dull, yeah.”

“Can we… can we go get him? Like we did with Virgil?” Thomas asked.

“That would be incredibly dangerous. The Imagination is not like our rooms. It’s unpredictable, and easy to get lost in.”

“Patton just said he keeps ending up back outside it.”

“That’s Patton.” Logan gestured at him. “If you were with us, I don’t know what would happen. We could get separated, or hurt, and our natural abilities are tempered by the environment.”

“So what, I just wait around for him to work through whatever he’s doing, or forget us and abandon me?” Thomas looked genuinely upset at the prospect.

“Don't worry,” Remus assured Thomas, with a huge grin. “I’ll always stick with you, until you safeword out.”

“Uh, disturbing; also we haven’t established a safe word.”

“Better start guessing then.” Remus winked.

“He prefers ‘Roman’ And ‘Please’” Logan offered.

Thomas turned slowly and stared at Logan for a long moment. Logan blinked at him, wondering what brought that on.

“Okay, moving on.” Thomas shook himself. “I understand the danger Logan, but I can’t… I can’t just wait around and hope this gets better on it’s own. Roman’s my … my friend, as well as everything else. If I hurt him, I need to try and fix it.”

“I don’t think you do understand the danger, Thomas.” Logan bit his lips together and pressed the side of his knuckles to his mouth.

“As much as I love being the bearer of bad news…” Janus descended the staircase, stopping on the landing. “I’m afraid it’s gotten worse.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas said nervously. “... and where is Virgil? I feel like shit, he should be here, even if he’s still a little on edge from all the big reveals.”

“That’s the bad news.” Janus sighed, looking slightly defeated. “He went after Roman. By himself.”

#Sanders Sides Fic #TS Thomas #TS Logan #TS Remus #TS Patton #TS Janus

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pointedly-foolish · 4 years

Text

[ í'm вαd вєhαvíσur вut í dσ ít ín thє вєѕt wαч ]

word count: 6320

pairing: connor | rk800/gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff; kinda crack treated seriously

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

you’re sure you had a harder time persuading others compared to this detective model android...

both.

and uh, the story went out of hand and evolved by itself.

ping. a small popup in the top right corner of his hud caught his attention as he rearranged his folders, neatly putting them in his bag.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ 1 ᴺᴱᵂ ᴹᴱˢˢᴬᴳᴱ: Love ]

> hey im outside waiting for u xx Noted. <

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you chucked the spare helmet you brought towards him—which he caught effortlessly—« come on, i wanna show you something. »

[ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵᴺᴳ ]

« so? what d’you think? your eyes were directly on him now. i know you had your reservations about this place... »

« i won’t tell if you don’t? you offered. »

he swears to god, or ra9, or whatever higher power there is, that you will be the death of him.

« get off. your ordered. he followed the command without a word. – we’re gonna walk the rest of the way. you added. »

« wanna crash at my place? you offered. – i’d be more than happy to, he obliged. »

you were too gone to reply, but regardless, he left for work with a small smile.

« you can just take a walk, you don’t need to use me as a fucking excuse. – alright. he answered placidly. »

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ SENDING AUDIO-VISUAL FEED TO RK800 #313 248 317-60—COLIN ] [ LINK ESTABLISHED. WAITING PERMISSION… ] [ ACCEPTED. ]

> [ ᴬ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢ ᴼᴺ ᴾᴿᴵᵛᴬᵀᴱ ᴾᴿᴼᴾᴱᴿᵀᵞ ᴮᵞ ᴬ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴬᴺᵀ ] there was a moment of silence before his brother replied. [ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴱᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ? ] > [ ᴵ ᴬᴾᴾᴿᴱᶜᴵᴬᵀᴱ ᴴᴼᵂ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴵᴹᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬᵀᴱᴸᵞ ᴬˢˢᵁᴹᴱᴰ ᴵᵀ ᵂᴬˢ ᵁˢ. ] connor replied, sarcastic but devoid of humour. [ ᵂᴱᴸᴸ? ᵂᴬˢ ᴵᵀ ᴿᴱᴬᴸᴸᵞ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵀᵂᴼ? ] the android, who somehow felt a migraine develop—even though that shouldn’t be possible—sighed. > [ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ ˢᴴᴼᴿᵀ, ᵂᴱ ᵀᴿᴱˢᴾᴬˢˢᴱᴰ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴬᴺ ᴬᴿᴱᴬ ᵂᵂ ˢᴴᴼᵁᴸᴰ'ᵛᴱ ᴬᵛᴼᴵᴰᴱᴰ. ] > [ˢᴱᴺᴰ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ? ] [ ᵞᴼᵁ? ᶜᴼᴹᴹᴵᵀᴱᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴱ ᴼᴺ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᵛᴼᴸᴵᵀᴵᴼᴺ? ]

the android could hear his brother cackle at his misery. though outside of earshot, the sound echoes in his mind as the link was not yet severed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ two missed message ]

> what the fuck did you get connor into? > ???????

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

bzz. bzz. a new message?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

unknown number [ 1 new message ]

> i know you saw the messages, fuckibg answer

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you also had a new message from connor, though his message didn’t bode well for you either:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

connard2 anderson <3 [ 1 missed message ]

> we need to talk. > ):<

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the use of the emoji made you chuckle, but you were scared of what the future brought for you. oh boy… you were in deep shit weren’t you…

e͟p͟i͟l͟o͟g͟u͟e͟:

f͟o͟o͟t͟n͟o͟t͟e͟s

like my work? consider ordering a commission // buying me a coffee // checking out my art tag or my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

#detroit: become human #connor detroit: become human #connor x reader #connor rk800 #rk800 detroit: become human #rk800-60 detroit:become human #hank anderson detroit: become human #falsely writes

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perspective-series · 5 years

Text

Meta Perspective (12)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: None

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

————————————————————————————————–

“I’m uh, I’m going to finish up dinner,” Patton said, heading back into the kitchen.

Virgil sighed as he turned to sit on the couch. “So, how are you doing after all that?” Virgil asked.

“I’m...alright.” Amanda glanced towards the kitchen doorway. “A little concerned that Patton’s going to just let Roman waltz in here while I’m sleeping. And I’m still reeling over the fact that Allison actually went back to humans, let alone the fact she got caught in the first place.”

“Yeah...It is a little strange you both got caught at the same time.” Virgil admitted. “Especially since it, you know, doesn’t happen often.”

“No, and we were taught that if it did happen we would probably die.” Amanda tilted her head. “Why were our parents so intent on making us constantly fear for our lives?’’

“I mean, I get it. They were just trying to watch out and protect you.” Virgil sighed. “There are some...bad humans out there. You two just happened to get lucky with us.”

“Yeah, and I guess I just got more lucky, then.” Amanda paused, looking down at her wrapped leg. “...sorta.”

Virgil winced. “Yeah...it seems like you got physically injured and Allison got mentally hurt, by the looks of things.”

“Oh good, that sounds fine.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Wait, did you see Allison when you went over there? How was she?”

“No, she wasn’t there. I guess she really did go back home, like she said she was going to.” Virgil explained with a shrug. “I was glad she wasn’t there though, I wanted to speak to the two of them alone.”

“Just to lecture them about being bad humans?” Amanda guessed.

“Yep.” Virgil had no problems admitting. “They were wrong and they needed to know that.”

“It’s nice to know you’re willing to call humans out like that.” Amanda teased. “Now all I’ve got to do is keep you in line and I’m golden.”

“Please, I do what I want.” Virgil teased.

“Dinner’s ready!” Patton called from the kitchen. Virgil smiled and offered a hand to Amanda.

“I’m sure I can tame even a wild spirit like you.” Amanda threatened, climbing on.

“I would love to see you try,” Virgil smirked, taking her into the kitchen and letting her off on the already set table. Patton was sitting down already, smiling.

“Bon appetit guys! I made us some homemade pizza!”

“Oh, thank you!” Amanda gave the human a larger grin than normal, taking up a tiny section of pizza and looking to Virgil with a quirked eyebrow. “See? I already tamed Patton.”

Patton blinked, a little lost. “Huh?”

“That doesn't count. Patton’s like that with everyone.” Virgil said, grabbing his own slice.

“Patton, who are you more loyal to, Virgil or me?” Amanda asked, taking a bite.

Patton froze. “Uhh…” Virgil turned to face Patton.

“Yeah, Pat. Who?” Virgil asked.

“Well uh...I refuse to answer.” Patton decided.

“Say Virgil tried to keep me,” Amanda suggested, raising an eyebrow. “Do you listen to him, or do you let me go?”

“I’d let you go,” Patton said, barely even thinking about it.

Virgil frowned. “Hey!”

Patton turned to him with a shrug. “Sorry kiddo, but it would just be wrong to keep someone like Amanda and you know it,” Virgil muttered under his breath as he crossed his arms but he couldn’t help but agree.

“I win,” Amanda said smugly, tearing into her food with a grin.

“Yeah, whatever,” Virgil muttered, taking another bite.

“Anyway,” Patton spoke up, wanting to change the subject. “Amanda, what do you want to do after dinner?”

“Um, I’m not sure.” Amanda admitted, having not thought that far ahead. “Something fun, I guess.”

“Well...you’ve played a video game, maybe you want to play a board game?” Patton asked.

“What sort of board game?” The borrower asked, already looking eager.

“Oh, we’ve got a ton!” Patton stood up and headed towards the hall closest, getting down a bin full of board games. “Let’s see...we have Life, Monopoly, Apples to Apples, Clue, Battleship, and a couple of other ones.” Patton listed.

“Once again, uh...I know what none of that means.” Amanda wiped her hands off on her pant leg. “But I’ll play whatever you think will be fun.”

“Life could be interesting.” Virgil pointed out. He turned to look at Amanda. “It basically lets you go through a human life and make choices and stuff like that.” He figured the borrower would at least find it interesting.

“How does that work?” Amanda tilted her head. “I thought we were just going to play a game.”

“I think it’s better if we showed you!” Patton exclaimed. He took the game out and started to set it up on the coffee table. Virgil looked down at Patton’s half-eaten slice of pizza and rolled his eyes before finishing up his own and offering a hand to Amanda.

Amanda climbed on, noting vaguely how much better her leg was doing. It was amazing how a day of rest could do wonders on such an injury, especially given how fast borrowers usually healed. She might be able to unwrap it entirely tonight.

Virgil walked over and set her down on the coffee table and then went to sit on the floor. Patton had already managed to set everything up and was now pointing at the wheel in the middle. “Okay! We’ll let you go first. Just spin this wheel and move the number of squares that it lands on!” Patton explained.

“Um, okay.” Amanda followed the instructions as best she could, spinning the wheel with a grunt. Amanda peered over the edge, glancing at the number before picking up her piece and walking to the correct spot.

“Oh! Okay, so this is where you have to choose. Do you want to go to college or just get a job?” Patton asked.

“Why does that matter?” Amanda asked. “What’s the difference?”

“Well, if you go to college you can get better jobs.” Virgil pointed out. “But if you get a job, you start making money earlier and you don’t have to worry about loans.”

“Why do I need money?” Amanda remembered hearing the term once or twice, but to a borrower, things like currency had no value. “And what are loans?”

“Wait, you don’t know how money works?” Virgil asked eyebrow raised.

“No, why?” Amanda looked between the humans, feeling she was missing something. “Should I?”

Virgil turned to Patton. “Maybe we should play something else. Not involving money.” He suggested and Patton frowned but nodded.

“Okay, um...battleship?” That should be fun and relatively easy, right?

“No, we don’t have to stop!” Amanda waved her hands. She didn’t want them to give her some sort of handicap game just because she was a little behind on human culture. “I can learn money!”

“...Alright. Patton?” Virgil handed the floor to him and Patton bit his lip.

“Well, we use money to buy things. Food, furniture and in this case, we buy the ability to go to college and learn in order to get a degree to get a job and earn more money.” Patton did his best to explain.

“Wait, so if you have money, you can just get stuff?” Amanda said.

“Well, if you have enough.” Patton continued. “Everything has a price and if you don’t have enough money you can’t get something.”

“But that’s where loans come in.” Virgil picked up. “Though, loans are only used for huge expenses like college or buying a house. Basically, the government gives you money to pay with but then you have to pay it back in monthly amounts.”

“So why is money so valuable?” Amanda asked, beginning to get the idea. It was like trading. “What does it do? Why do people want it?”

“The more money you have, the more things you can get. The nicer the things you can get.” Virgil shrugged. “But also it’s essential for humans to live and buy things you need, so that’s mostly why people want it.”

“No I get that, but why is money itself worth anything?” Amanda rephrased her question. “If it’s worth so much in trading, it must be quite useful indeed. Otherwise, why collect it at all?”

“Uhh...well...it’s useful for buying things. That’s it. That’s it’s only purpose.” Virgil tried to explain.

“Yeah, I think it’s worth has something to do with how much our government has in gold? Not sure.” Patton jumped in.

“...sounds fake, but okay.” Amanda shrugged. Perhaps there really were some human concepts she would never understand.

“So, college or job?” Patton asked again.

“It sounds like a job is better.” Amanda pointed out. “Because then I get money and I don’t get loans...right?”

“Well, for some people yeah. Others though, think it’s better to go to college to get a better job and even more money.” Patton explained.

“Despite the fact they’ll be in debt for the rest of their lives.” Virgil muttered.

“Okay, well I’ll do job.” Amanda decided, pushing her piece into place.

Patton nodded and went ahead and drew three cards from the job pile. He laid them out in front of Amanda. “Alright, so now you get to pick one! Looks like your choices are retail worker, artist or a flight attendant!”

“What are those? Does it matter?” Amanda asked, inspecting the cards.

“Well, they all have different salaries under them, so you should probably take the one that gives you the most money. And that seems to be the flight attendant.” Virgil pointed out.

“Oh, that’s a fun job! They basically get to be in an airplane all day, going all over the place!” Patton chimed in.

“What’s an airplane?” Amanda asked, lifting up the card. The art was pretty, in its own way. Amanda would certainly try on an outfit like that if she found the right doll clothes. Of course, that was the same for most human outfits.

“Uhh...have you ever seen anything other than a bird flying in the sky? Something that looked like metal? Or maybe you’ve heard the sound of something loud in the air?” Virgil tried.

“Um…” Amanda tried to think back to if she had ever seen such a thing. “Well, sometimes the stars move. Is that the same thing?”

“Yeah! That’s a plane!” Patton exclaimed with a grin. “It’s like this big metal ship with wings that humans control and fly through the air with. That’s how humans get to far away places sometimes.”

“Oh that is so cool.” Amanda’s eyes widened. “So you made your own birds? I’ve always thought that would be fun, but Allison would never let me try and ride one.”

Virgil winced. “Um...yeah, I think I can see why.” Sure it sounded cool but the execution could be very dangerous.

“Basically! It’s just a faster way to get around. Hey! Maybe we could bring you on one sometime!” Patton said with a large grin. Virgil frowned.

“Uh...Maybe not. TSA would find Amanda in a heartbeat.” Virgil said and Patton frowned.

“Oh, right.”

“Who is TSA?” Amanda asked, trying not to feel deflated. She would have loved to ride the metal bird.

“Security. They have things that can see inside bags and stuff, so I’m sure they would spot a tiny person.” Virgil said. “So, not a good idea, sorry. We could always take you on some more car rides though.” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I guess.” Amanda shrugged. “I mean, it’s no sky, but it would be cool to be in a car and actually see what’s happening.”

“Oh! And maybe we can take a trip somewhere! That could be fun, right?” Patton exclaimed. He had been bummed about not being able to fly too but the idea of taking a vacation with the borrower sounded even better.

“Ooh, that could be fun!” Amanda clapped her hands excitedly, thrilled at the idea of how far she could travel with a human’s help. After all, she had already gone over several blocks away with them when traveling to school, and that was further than Amanda ever expected to go in a lifetime. “Where should we go? And when?”

“Well, we would have to wait until the semester ends but uh...we could go to disney?” Virgil suggested. It was the place to go for vacations after all.

Patton’s eyes lit up. “Yes! We could go to Disney! Oh, that would be so much fun!”

“Yes! Disney!” Amanda found herself caught up in the excitement, only to slowly take a step back when she remembered she was out of her element. “...what’s Disney?”

“Oh, don’t let Roman hear you say that,” Virgil said as Patton decided to take out his phone and look it up, their board game all but forgotten. He held the phone in front of Amanda.

“This is Disney.” Patton said with a grin.

Amanda’s eyes widened, looking at the image on Patton’s phone. “You’re telling me that’s an actual place?” The castle looked like it came straight out of one of the fairytales from Amanda’s childhood.

“Oh yeah.” Virgil said with a smirk. “They’ve got rides, so much food, some live shows, etc, etc.” He said.

Patton grinned. “It isn’t called the happiest place on earth for nothing, you know.”

“Yes, yes I want to go there.” Amanda pressed her finger into the screen eagerly.

“Then I’m sure we can make it happen.” Virgil chuckled. “Though it will be another two months before we can go but I guess it’s good to plan ahead.”

“Yeah! Though uh, fair warning, if we go I’m thinking Roman and Logan are going to want to come with us.” Patton said. Knowing Roman wouldn’t miss the chance to go to Disney and Logan wouldn’t want to be left behind. Besides, he liked disney just as much as the rest of them.

“...oh.” Amanda hadn’t really considered that.

“But you shouldn’t let that deter you!” Patton was quick to say. “Like I said, they aren’t bad people...and if you really want you don’t have to be anywhere near them. You can just stick with me or Virgil.”

“Mhm.” Amanda had to also remember that it wouldn’t be for several months. That was a long time; Amanda couldn’t be sure she would even still be living with Patton and Virgil. After all, by then her leg would have certainly healed. And there was Allison to consider, who may want to move because of the same humans who now wanted to piggyback on Amanda’s Disney adventure.

“Well, I suppose we can always figure it out later.” Amanda shrugged.

“Right, yeah, we have plenty of time.” Patton agreed. He put his phone away before noticing the board game and remembering they had been playing. “Oh, right! The board game!” He turned to Amanda. “Still up to play?”

“...yeah.” Amanda snapped out of her thoughts, turning to the game at hand. “Let’s play.”

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #borrowers #human!virgil #human!patton #human!roman #human!logan #borrower!amanda #borrower!allison #platonic #meta perspective #part 12

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xuaryxth · 5 years

Text

♡The Light of a Dying Star♡

⇝Pairing: Amateur Astronomer!Namjoon x Star!Reader

⇝Genre: Celestial AU, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff

⇝Word Count: 1,721

⇝A/N: I know it ends abruptly but I’ve been stuck on this for weeks and this was all i had initially planned... I might make drabbles or something idk... also thanks to @baekwell--tart for editing and essentially beta reading this for me

The star burns, much like it always has.

The water ripples before you as the clouded room shifts; both in atmosphere and physicality. It almost makes you sad. A sigh leaves you as you swipe a hand through the watery image of the star, trying to get it out of your mind. Though the image wavers slightly, it soon steadies again and returns.

The star expands, cooling ever so slowly, yet still too fast.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice interrupts the silence and the clouds around you shift to reveal the owner. He comes to stand next to you, his hands in the pockets of his white pants. You glance at him before turning back to the pool of water. You’ve seen him around; his golden skin and sunny disposition hard to miss, not to mention whispers of his smiles being heart like. You can’t recall his name off the top of your head but you know he’s been around for as long as you’ve been alive, if not long before. Finally, his words sink in and you make a face.

“What is? My star dying?” You struggle to not let the disdain for his words show through your tone.

He shrugs and winces slightly before flashing you that smile you’ve heard so much about although something seems sad about it. “In a sad, morbid way? Yeah, I’d like to think so.”

“I don’t see it.” You let out with a scoff. You definitely failed to hide your mood this time.

“I mean, it happens to all of us.” He says in passing as he turns and leans against the rail surrounding most of the viewing pool, looking up at the ceiling. A stray hair sits on his forehead and he lazily blows it away from his face. “You can’t let it bring you down so much. Look for something good, yeah?”

“Like what? That I’m personally slated to become a black hole? That I barely had a couple hundred thousand years?” You spit the words at the pool, not even really talking to him. “Oh! How about the looks of pity I’m constantly met with because I’m dying? I swear, it’s like you lower mass stars don’t understand! There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to have even a single million of the billions of years you live! You have time to come to terms with your death while I’ve barely lived!”

The man doesn’t say anything as you hang your head and you’re not sure you want him to. There’s silence for a long time. It’s when you finally pick up your head to find him staring at you, that he goes to say something. Though he barely gets a syllable out as the unseen doors open and several men enter. You know why they’re here. The other star does as well. You let out a shaky breath, walking towards them and following as they turn and leave. You don’t even notice the whispered apology as you exit.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been here. Time is such an odd thing here but it seems to move both slowly and yet all too fast. There are two things you do know however.

One; your star is close to the end.

And two; you need to leave before it does.

Your impending death frightens you more the closer it approaches. There’s no way this is the way you go; alone and scared. You don’t even want to think about the idea that after the supernova, you’ll be nothing but a black hole. There’s no guarantee that running away will stop your death but you can’t just give up without trying; what glory is there in that? A knock sounds from the door of your chamber; each star is given one when they near the end of their life. A noncommittal noise that you hope means ‘come in’ leaves you and the door opens. It’s the star again. He’s been visiting since the day at the viewing pool, trying his hardest to keep you lighthearted but something seems off today. He seems rushed and panicky.

“Hoseok?” you’ve since learned the name he’s chosen to go by, “Is something wrong?”

Hoseok doesn’t sit with you like he normally would; rather, he paces back and forth in front of you. He glances at you occasionally, eyes darting over your face. “Not necessarily. But I could get in real trouble.”

“How so?”

“I’m going to get you out.”

“What?!”

He rushes forward, pressing a finger to your lips and hushes you. “Be quiet. I don’t want this going south.”

You’re almost positive your eyes hold a thousand questions as you look at him. You push his finger away, talking in a harsh whisper. “Just what are you talking about, Hoseok?”

“You know my star, correct?” He barely waits for your nod before continuing. “The system it’s in has life. I’m not really meant to tell other stars since not many systems have life but I have a plan. There’s a planet there where you can hide since they look like us. Any other planet wouldn’t work because you’d be found.”

You shake your head, not understanding. Hoseok talk you through his plan. He also knows this might not prevent your death but he he truly believes that the beings on this planet can truly keep you hidden. You’re not sure this will work. But honestly, you’re too scared not to try.

There’s not much Kim Namjoon will stop at for his research. Traveling thousands of miles to see rare phenomena? Easy. Staying out all night in freezing temperatures to chart stars? Child’s play. Funneling his life savings into getting the best equipment possible? He has to eat cup noodles daily but completely worth it.

It’s on one of these expeditions that he sees it; something falling to earth. It’s odd, he’s positive there’s nothing that’s supposed to be both tonight and in this area. Something tells him to go check it out. However, another part of him bites his lip and says to stay. There's no one else out here to record these star movements tonight.

The irrational part of him wins out in the end, causing him to pack up his equipment into the rental car before heading out on foot. It didn’t look like it would land far away. It takes him trekking about half an hour and cursing his lack of physical activity in his job before he finally gets to the site of the fall. What he sees stops him mid whispered rant.

The crater is large; not the biggest ever recorded, of course, but definitely not the smallest either. The thing that really stops him, however, is the fact that a person stands in the center of the crater. The figure doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet and Namjoon isn’t sure if he should be relieved by this fact. A part is disappointed that someone made it here before he did; now there was no chance of getting recognition should this crater prove to hold anything noteworthy. It’s while these thoughts through his head that something catches his eye.

The clothes they’re wearing are in pristine condition, to the point of being blinding white. There’s no way this is possible with the side of the crater; anything worn would be soiled traversing the steep sides. Namjoon shakes his head, coming to the conclusion that something is off and he’ll need to confront this person.By the time he’s made it to the bottom of the crater, he’s covered in dirt and mud and the questions in his mind multiple tenfold. Sure, he’s clumsy and would get something on himself just walking around his apartment, but no person could possibly stay clean in this place. Pointlessly brushing his hands off on his pants, Namjoon starts towards the figure and what stands out now is the light glow he notices surrounding them.

“Just who the hell are you?” He yells out, his voice stopping you from viewing the surroundings as you turn to focus on him. Your curious eyes meet his own confused ones, a spark of his own curiosity hiding within.

You place a finger against you chin and lower lip in thought, gaze flickering to the stars above briefly before answering, “I never really thought about it… There was no time for that, no reason to name myself.”

The answer only confuse him further as he takes tentative steps closer, his arms held loosely in front of him in case he needs to defend himself. You cover a snort at the improper stance. “Let me rephrase; what the hell are you?”

“Me?” you blink at him as you take a moment to think of how to answer. This being did see you land, there’s not much use hiding what you are from him. You just hope you’re able to trust the man. “I guess you could call me a star; and a dying one at that.”

Namjoon looks bewildered, he’s sure. The claim is outlandish and he shakes his head, stepping right up to you and bending slightly to get his eyes level with yours. “What makes you think I’ll believe something like…” His voices trails off as he gazes into your eyes. It’s dark, he tells himself as he sees the inky void of your pupils swirl. He feels himself drawn in and it makes it harder to distrust your words.

He’s fully convinced, though, when the image of a star becomes clear. It’s burning, spiraling, dying. He pulls back, shaking his head and now he knows. He knows what you are; or at least he can guess. He knows you’re special. He knows what he needs to do now.

“Y/N.” Is all he says out loud.

“Pardon me?” The word is foreign to you despite your knowledge of this world’s languages, given by Hoseok.

He grabs your hand and doesn’t say much as he pulls you to the edge of the crater, looking for the easiest way out. He finally speaks as he starts to help you up. “It’s a name; your name now. I’m Namjoon.”

“Why give me a name though?”

“Because,” Namjoon looks back at you, his face set in a determined expression, “I’m going to protect you. I’m going to help you.”

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p-artsypants · 6 years

Text

No, You Go First (Part 1)

This ones been rolling around for some time. Changed a little bit here and there…kind of thought about making it longer. Maybe someday.

What would happen in the first movie if Stoick listened to his son at a key point?

FF.net | Ao3

—

Hiccup snuck in the door quietly. The run in with the Nightfury had taken much longer than expected, and he only hoped no one noticed he was missing.

Who was he kidding? No one would miss him.

Though, when he entered his house, Stoick was sitting at the fireplace, whittling, and waiting for him. The boy bit his lip and fled to his room, hoping to not be spotted.

“Hiccup?”

“Dad! Hey! Uh…I-I have to talk to you…”

“I have something to say to you too…”

They both spoke at the same time, mashing their sentences in a mess of scrabbled words. Then, “What?”

“You go first,” urged Stoick.

“Okay…” And he took the chance, because when would his father ever listen to him?

“I was thinking, you know we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough bread-making Vikings, or small home—“

“Get on with it Hiccup.” Stoick said, crossing his arms.

“I don’t want to fight dragons.”

Stoick stared at his son, blankly, and then laughed. “Come on, yes you do.”

“Rephrase, I can’t kill a dragon.”

Stoick was prepared to rebuttal, but seeing his little son so hunched, so withdrawn…so un-viking, made him hold his tongue. “What was all that bravado about then earlier? You were begging me to let you out there!”

“I know I know…” Hiccup rubbed his arm. “But I…realized something.” He glanced up shyily, wincing all the while. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

Stoick let out a massive sigh doing everything in his power to stay calm. “I promise. I’d rather you not hide things from me.”

Hiccup nodded meekly, still holding his arm. “I…I did shoot down that dragon. So I went down to Raven’s Point to make sure, and maybe finish the job if I needed to. When I got there, I saw him…and I raised my knife, ready to strike…and then I looked into it’s eyes. It was…scared, terrified…I saw myself in it. I couldn’t…I just…I cut it free.” He clenched up, waiting for the onslaught of anger from his dad.

But it never came.

Hiccup peeled his eyes open to see his dad red in the face and a frown on his lips. Then Stoick puffed out air. “So you cut it loose. It didn’t hurt you?”

“He pinned me to the ground and roared in my face. And then he took off.”

“What kind of dragon was it?”

“I think it was a Nightfury…”

“A Nightfury! And you let it go!?”

“I know!” He cried. “I’m sorry! I just…”

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. “Look, Hiccup.”

He looked up and met Stoick’s eyes.

“Your mother was a lot like you. She was convinced that dragons weren’t as evil as we believed. Even up until the day she was taken.”

“They are still a pest! They do make it hard to live! I just—I just—…” He gestured helplessly.

Stoick steered him over to sit him down at the fire.

“When your mother was here, most of us only used hammers as weapons. We agreed that the beasts weren’t evil, but after she was taken…” He sighed. “Hiccup, I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I can’t lose you.”

“Dad…”

“I have to know that you’ll be safe in a raid. But you can’t lift a hammer, you can’t swing a sword…”

“Dad, dad!” Hiccup interrupted. “I’ll stay in the forge.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll work. I’ll lift heavy stuff and build up my arms and learn how to use weapons…”

Stoick, who was now calming down, saw the slight tremble in his son and the fear that persisted in his eyes. “Son,” he said softly. “It’s alright. The forge is a good idea.”

“You don’t look 100% sure…”

“It’s not the most honorable. Everyone loves the Blacksmith, but not for a chief. But, you’re only 15. Things may change.”

“Yeah.” Hiccup vocally agreed, but that look in the Nightfury’s eyes had been so haunting, he knew he couldn’t raise a weapon against a dragon ever again. “But…I’ll start to win everyone’s favor by staying out of the way.”

Stoick managed a laugh. “A start it is.”

The little family fell into silence. Stoick continued his whittling while Hiccup sat by. He felt like there was more to be said.

“Dragon training starts tomorrow. I was going to have you start…but while Gobber’s training the new recruits, someone will have to be in the forge.”

Hiccup nodded in agreement, some of the tension coming off his shoulders.

“You’re not a warrior.” Stoick declared, giving him a side eye. “You aren’t bursting with muscle, and weapons are useless in your hands.”

“Thanks…”

“But you have something most of the vikings in this village wish they could have.”

This was news. All his life he had been called useless and a screw up. What could he possibly have that no one else did?

“You have brains, capable of resourcefulness and creativity.”

Hiccup just stared at his dad, open mouthed.

“You couldn’t throw a bola, so you made something to throw it for you. I’ve seen your craftsmanship, I’ve heard your wit. You’re different from all of us, Hiccup.”

Hiccup hunched his shoulders. “I don’t want to be different. No one likes different…”

“Of course they don’t. Because they can’t understand it.” He leaned forward, beckoning Hiccup to look him in the eye. “You won’t be able to lead the tribe like I have, or like my father before me. But you will lead it, one day. You just have to find your niche.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

“If you truly believe that the beasts are capable of something more, find a way to make them stop raiding us. A thousand years of fighting hasn’t changed a thing.”

Hiccup considered this thought heavily. His father was putting a lot of trust and faith on his shoulders.

“But son, if you don’t find that solution…one day, you’ll have to put your reservations aside and be like the rest of us. Deal?”

Hiccup glanced to the duffle bag by the door. Stoick was leaving, and this could very well be the last time they saw one another. He nodded. “Deal.”

“Good. Well, keep up the good work. I’ll be back. Probably.”

“And I’ll be here. Maybe.”

—

The next day, Hiccup went down to the training academy, and sat along the upper edge with a notebook.

“Welcome to dragon training!” Gobber called with gusto.

“I hope I get some serious burns.” Declared Tuffnut.

“I’m hoping for some mauling, like on my shoulder or lower back.” Added his sister.

“Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it.”

Hiccup chuckled a little as he watched.

“You sure you don’t want to join us, Hiccup?” Called Gobber.

“Pul-lease,” interrupted Snotlout. “He wouldn’t last five seconds in the ring.”

“You’re right Snotlout,” Hiccup called with a smug little grin. Though, no one could see it from that distance. “I’d much rather you be in there.”

Gobber interrupted the little spat. “Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village.”

“Which we all know, is going to be me.” Said Snotlout, with a flourish. “I mean, come on. Who else could it be?”

“Maybe me?” Said Astrid, hand on her hip.

“Yeah maybe, if you weren’t a girl.”

Hiccup had to hold back a laugh at the absolute rage that crossed her face.

Soon, Hiccup realized he had made the smart choice of declining dragon training after all. Since Gobber was merciless in his methods. The Grockle sputtered around the arena, it’s eyes focusing on the shields and the weapons. Gobber hung back by the wall, and the dragon paid him no mind. Neither did it notice little Hiccup who sat above. Hiccup noted this. But knew the solution of just ‘not having weapons’ would be received with a firm kick off of the cliffs.

In the end, Astrid careened the shield into the dragon’s snout disorienting it.

“The dragon will always, always, go for the kill.”

Hiccup wrote this down, and then scratched out ‘always’. “Then why didn’t he…?”

—

The Nightfury was not as free as Hiccup had first thought.

Now that it was trapped in the cove, sans tail fin, he had a chance to double his efforts on observation, and perhaps even befriending the Nightfury. Perish the thought!

But he remembered his father’s words and returned to the cove day after day. Every once in a while, he would go the academy and sit on whatever wisdom Gobber seemed to be preaching.

From the look of things, they weren’t fairing very well. He had always assumed Snotlout would be the winner of the class, but it seemed like his ego was his downfall.

And his lack of common sense didn’t help.

Astrid on the other hand, took training extremely seriously. Almost to the point of alienating herself from the rest of the group. She was trapped in her head, focused, with death on the mind.

It was one night at dinner when he took a look into her head. All the other tables were filled, as he sat at one, sketching some ideas for Toothless’s tail. Nothing too noticeable for the other vikings around.

But he was startled when she sat across from him.

“Uh hi Astrid, hi Astrid.” He stammered. Smooth.

“Mind if I sit here?” She drawled as an afterthought.

“No- not at all, you’re fine. I love you—I’d love to have you! Here. Sitting. Just sitting.” He over corrected, his voice too loud.

She stared at him, wide-eyed as he blushed and covered his face with his hands. Then she snorted. “Now I can see why you’re not training with us. Jumpy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, words aren’t my friend.”

She hummed in amusement and took his notes closest to her. “So what is the great Hiccup Haddock up to this time? What mess will we have to clean up?”

Hiccup snatched his notes back with a frown. “I’m not up to anything.”

“Right. Why do you keep watching us in the academy?”

“Why do you care?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but it came out that way. She had never cared about him before. Not unless he did something stupid. Then she was there with her perfect blue eyes, and rolling them.

Astrid shrugged. “I don’t. I’m just curious.” She picked at her food. “You just seem like the only person around here with any decency is all.”

“Oh…did Snotlout do something?”

“He always does stuff.”

“But he didn’t like…you know…”

“Gods no, Hiccup!”

“Okay! I was just making sure!”

She flipped the switch on him. “Why do you care?”

He smiled, “As future chief, I want to know of any drama before it happens.”

She scoffed, “Future chief?”

“I mean…I am the next in line. The only other option is Snotlout, and who would you rather have?”

“You got me there.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Why are you talking to me again? Not that I don’t enjoy your company or anything...”

“I mean, you said it. You are the future chief. My parents mentioned that I should be nicer to you.”

He shrugged. “Well, I don’t know if I want you to be my friend just to take advantage of my status.”

She cringed. “Yikes, I really didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I want to support you to be a good chief. If no one is here for you and no one believes in you, how are you supposed to lead us?”

He shrugged. “My dad thinks I still have some time.”

“Maybe...” she acquiesced. “But you know, there’s something about you that’s refreshing.”

“What? That not everything I have to say is about strength and death?” He said with sarcasm.

“Basically.”

He wasn’t expecting that. “Oh.”

“You know, I’m kind of surprised your dad didn’t have you enter dragon training.”

Hiccup scratched his cheek. “He wanted me too...but I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

Astrid nodded in understanding and glanced at his notebook again. “So what are you doing?”

He blushed, prepared with a half truth. “Observing dragon behavior. My dad kind of gave me a task, I’m assuming to keep me busy and out of the way. He wants me to see if I can find another solution to our dragon problem...since fighting isn’t changing things.”

“Did I just hear you say you’re trying to get out of fighting dragons?” Snotlout interrupted, approaching the table. “I saw Astrid sitting with you and I was trying to figure out why she would do something so crazy. Now I get it, she’s worried you’re going to doom us all.”

Hiccup bristled, closing his notes. He prepared to leave, but Astrid held a hand out.

“For your information, I’m sitting with Hiccup because he’s my friend, and he’s not a complete idiot.”

Snotlout scoffed. “Like I actually care...” and he walked off.

“Wow...” said Hiccup, breathlessly. “I’m…I’m not used to people sticking up for me.”

“So you made a few mistakes. But you’ve tried to be helpful. I don’t think you should be ridiculed for it.”

Hiccup swallowed, a lump in his throat. “Thank you, Astrid.”

She spared a smile. “If Stoick gave you this task, then I’ll make sure to help you.”

“It’s...it’s kind of a secret. I’m not sure how the others will take it.”

“Can I see your notebook?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not always at the academy for classes. I’ve had more up close encounters with dragons than you have.”

He shrugged and handed over the book. Debatably, he had more up close encounters with dragons, since the few times he visited Toothless and learned from him. But she didn’t need to know that.

Astrid opened to a new page and began to write down her observations and thoughts from dragon training. They sat in silence for a while while she scratched away, thought, and then wrote some more.

“Here,” she had dated the page and titled it ‘Astrid’s thoughts on dragons’. “This is my two cents.” Then she stood with a smile. “Your dad is a really good chief. I’m glad he found a way for you to help in your own way.”

“Yeah.” Hiccup didn’t want to mention that he was the one that had come up with idea in the first place. “And, Astrid?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks.”

She grinned at him. At him! “See you later, Hiccup.”

—

Over the next few days, something began to form between him and Astrid. Nothing romantic…well, at least not on her part. He was pretty obviously smitten with her, and blushed every time he saw her. But she had the decency to never comment on it.

No, there was something like a feeling of camaraderie between them. A sort of friendship, but without the deep emotional talks.

Those were reserved for Toothless.

At meals, and only then, did Astrid join him at his lonely table and share her wisdom. Likewise, he told her some tricks, like the fact that the dragons didn’t like eels and that if you reflected light off a shield, they’d chase it.

She was doubtful, but filed these tricks away for a later date.

Everyone else in the tribe, on the other hand, were being to be merciless to Hiccup. He was of age, and yet refused to go into dragon training? What a brat. Pathetic. Worthless heir. There was talk of him being a dragon sympathizer as well, curtesy of Snotlout. And since Stoick wasn’t around to set the record straight, things only escalated.

Daily, Hiccup was pushed, tripped, and shooed away from vendors and food carts, and even children.

Hiccup thought he couldn’t be any more lonely. He was wrong. The only kind faces waiting for him were Astrid and Gobber.

Even his work in the forge was becoming a problem. People would come to get their knifes sharpened and refuse to let Hiccup do it. If they picked out a weapon he worked on, they’d drop it like it was still hot from the forge.

“Lad, maybe you should just work in the back for a while. Until this all cools down.”

Hiccup scoffed. Like this would ever get better. If one thing was certain, it was that Vikings were stubborn.

Astrid came in one day, Hiccup could hear her. “Is Hiccup here?”

“Depends, are you here to bully him?”

“No, why would I do that?”

“Because that’s all anyone wants with him these days.” He gestured with his thumb. “‘Es in the back.”

Hiccup stood quickly, however, and stepped outside to hide his secrets. “Hi Astrid, hi, how are you?”

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

His shoulders hunched, “I’m…I’m okay.”

She shook her head, but didn’t argue. “I need my axe sharpened.”

“Uh…couldn’t you just Gobber to do it for you?”

“Nope. I know you’re the one that’s been servicing my blade for the last few years. You’re the one who knows it.” She handed the axe over willingly.

It took a little effort to lift it. Like most things did. Put he held it sturdily. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He smiled broadly at her.

—

There will be a part two. I’m just on vacation and wanted to publish this chunk first.

#fanfiction #httyd #hiccup #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #Astrid Hofferson #hiccstrid #stoick #how to train your dragon

51 notes · View notes

corvid-knight · 6 years

Text

Tricksters Don't Cry

The aftermath of Rose and Kanaya's wedding as it impacts a certain pointy-shades idiot and British-sounding dork. In other words, why Dirk and Jake needs to learn to fucking talk to each other.

(Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12836904)

You have lost track of Jake.

How in the hell did you manage that?

You sigh, adjust your shades, and survey the wreckage of what was Rose and Kanaya's wedding. The party got...a little wild. Calliope brought one of her trickster lollipops (also known as "alien marriage love drug," also known as "something humans should have no part of"), with the result that you just spent an hour keeping Dave from molesting John, Karkat, and pretty much everyone else here. He's going to have some pretty heavy embarrassment when he finally comes down off it. He's halfway down now, actually, curled up on a chair with a bemused Karkat, hiccupping and giggling at the same time, both of them wrapped in Dave's cape.

Jake. Focus, Dirk. When was the last time you saw Jake?

Oh, yeah. Dave apparently decided he wanted to try out your boyfriend. The resulting smooch was...well, you really hated seeing it. Sometimes you're a jealous bitch. (You're off-topic again, and there is really no point in thinking about how you wanted to kill Dave for one short moment there. Seriously, stop thinking about how Jake made that little squeak that you thought he only did when you kissed him...)

OFF-TOPIC, STRIDER. And painfully so.

Okay, Dave kissed him. (And you are not thinking of that kiss at all.) Jake turned trickster...what the hell happened next?

Oh. Yeah.

Jake took off immediately, and before you could follow him Dave grabbed you and tried to stick his tongue down your throat. Which...yes, he is hot as hell...but genetically he is also your brother. Father. Whatever. The point is, you don't feel right having sloppy makeouts with him.

Also, Karkat was watching. You'd prefer not to wake up one morning minus your head.

So you fended Dave off. Then you kept him from overwhelming Karkat—trolls don't get the as much of the sugar-happy personality boost from trickster candy, and being semi-normal and on the receiving end of a trickster's attention can be dangerous unless you know what you're doing—and then you talked him out of going back in time and bringing back past-Karkat. One thing kept leading to another, and somehow you haven't had a Dave-free minute until now.

So where the heck did Jake go? Usually, tricksters go straight to whoever they're in love with, and he's not here.

(And yes. You know he might be with someone else right now. He probably is. It isn't like you and him are actually dating anymore. This line of thought hurts more than thinking about Jake kissing Dave.)

Regardless of any of that, you still need to find him before he causes too much trouble. You just have no idea where to start.

But, now that you think about it, you know someone who does.

timaeusTestified (TT) started pestering Arquiusprite^2 (ARQUIUS)

TT: Hal? TT: Look, I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but I could use a little help here. TT: Actually, let me rephrase that: I really need help. Please.

ARQUIUS: Wow, something I've never got out of you: "please." ARQUIUS: And seriously. It's ARquius. not Hal anymore.

TT: Okay then. TT: Arquius. TT: Is there any way I can convince you to use that vaguely defined spritely omniscience to see where Jake is?

ARQUIUS: ... ARQUIUS: Done.

TT: Um. TT: Could you, I don't know, tell me? TT: Please?

ARQUIUS: You must be really freaking out if you're being polite to me. ARQUIUS: I'll tell you where he is IF you tell me why you chose to call me instead of one of the other sprites.

You sigh again, at that. Damn the AR and all the games he likes to play. Especially since they all seem to feature "Dirk confronting something he really doesn't feel like thinking about." Maybe the most annoying part about that is that you know it's probably because of some aspect of your own personality that you repress or some shit.

TT: Truthfully? TT: I hate asking for help, and asking you is only half a step removed from doing it myself. TT: Is that what you were hoping to hear?

ARQUIUS: Not really. I didn't really "hope" to hear anything to be honest. ARQUIUS: Although it does prove that you're still just as messed up as you were before we parted company.

TT: Thanks, Arquius. TT: Your aspersions on my mental state are exactly what I need right now. TT: This makes everything so much better.

ARQUIUS: Wow, set phasers to "sarcasm!"

TT: Arquius...

ARQUIUS: Okay, okay. ARQUIUS: I've marked his location on your GPS. ARQUIUS: Is that all you need?

TT: Yeah. : Thanks, Arquius.

timaeusTestified (TT) stopped pestering Arquiusprite^2 (ARQUIUS).

It takes a little wandering around to figure out exactly where Jake is, even with the GPS. When you do finally realize that he's in Kanaya's closet, you have to roll your eyes. Here you are worrying about him, and he's probably in there making out with Aranea or something...

But because you're both a paranoid idiot and a masochistic fuck, you open the door anyway.

"Jake?" He hasn't got anyone in here. The light's off, and you flick it on to see him huddled in the far corner, hugging his knees to his chest. All you can really see is a mop of neon-green hair. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want it." His voice is muffled because he doesn't raise his head, but he doesn't sound like he's all the way trickster. He still sounds almost normal. "Dirk, I'm sorry..."

"Hey." You step all the way into the closet, shuttting the door behind you, and kneel next to him. "What are you talking about?"

"This." He looks up, at you, and if you weren't so used to keeping all your reactions perfectly under control you'd have flinched. There are tears on Jake's face, pale green tears that look so, so wrong. "I...don't want to be this."

"Jake, how..." Tricksters don't cry. It's not possible; one of the effects of the cherub candy is to basically turn off regrets, inhibitions, and almost every other negative emotion. But Jake's sitting in front of you, being impossible. "What's wrong?" Forget whether or not it's possible, actually. You just want it to stop. You can't stand seeing him in tears.

You go to wipe the tears off his face, and stop when he flinches away. Okay, something is very wrong. You remember the last time he went trickster; he wanted to touch you, kiss you, wrap himself around you like a second skin.

"Don't—" He shudders, hard, and scoots an inch farther away from you. "Dirk, I am barely holding on as things stand now. The trickster...it wants me to give in...so much."

You didn't know it was possible to fight off being trickster, but then again there's a lot you don't know about it. You're not even totally sure why you only go halfway when you turn, why your mind stays the same. Actually, yeah you are: as a Prince of Heart, you have the ability to rule your self, to stay under control no matter what happens. And you guess...since Jake's a Page of Hope, he can do whatever he believes he can.

Watching him shudder, watching the tears roll down his face, you are pretty fucking sure that that is not a good thing.

"Jake." He was avoiding your eyes; now his gaze snaps to your face. "Just let go. It's okay."

"N-no—"

"Why the fuck not?" You bite down on your tongue. The last thing he needs is to know how much he's hurting you. How much you still care, how much you still love him.

"Y-you." He lowers his head again and starts rocking back and forth. "I want you, I know I want you, and I-I-I..."

"Oh, Jake..." He's putting himself through this because he doesn't want to get back together with you.

"I'm sorry." That's muffled, but you can hear it just fine. "So—so sorry..."

"Stop. Just stop, okay?" You grab his shoulders, trying not to wince at his panicked gasp. He tries to curl into a tighter ball, but you don't let him. "Look. I can go away. Leave you alone until it wears off so you don't do anything you don't want to—"

"Please—no!" Having your hands on him is like touching a live wire, he shaking so hard. "Don't, don't leave me, I'm s-s-sorry..."

Oh, god.

He thinks you don't love him anymore.

"I'm sorry. D-Dirk, I—"

"Shh." You let go of him for one second, just long enough to slip your shades off and lay them on one of the shelves. "No. This is fine. I'm fine with this, Jake." When he looks up, you kiss him, closing your eyes so you don't have to see how teary his are.

You can handle being trickster. You hate it, it's depressing as hell, but it's not going to hurt you like fighting it is hurting Jake.

As soon as your lips touch his, Jake goes utterly still. He makes a noise that's either a soft cry of "no" or a moan—you can't tell which.

You can't feel the change in your head yet. Going trickster isn't going to completely change you like it does everyone else, but you should be able to feel it.

Jake whimpers into your mouth, gasps, and pulls away just enough to throw his arms around you, knocking you off balance. You barely manage not to topple over as he buries his face in your shirt.

"What—" His hair. It's not green anymore. For some reason, kissing him turned his trickster off instead of turning yours off. "Jake. It's okay."

You can't even tell if he heard you. He's clinging to you as if you're the only thing keeping him from falling, breathing too deep and too fast.

"It's okay. You're okay." If he keeps that up he's going to pass out. "Jake, you need to calm down..." You stroke his hair, a little slower than the rhythm of his breath.

"I love you," he whispers into your shirt, so quiet you barely hear it.

And you almost freeze up, because that is literally all you want. You've been telling yourself that you're fine without him, fine just being friends, but you can only lie to other people. Not yourself. You want Jake more than you want to stay alive, and he just said that he still loves you.

"I love you too." It's inadequate, but it's all you can say. "I love you too, Jake."

He takes a deep, halfway-calm breath. And then he starts to really cry. You catch a few almost-coherent words, but they don't make sense.

He cries onto your shirt, and you stroke his hair, you rub his back and make soft shushing noises and wait. Eventually, Jake's sobs taper off and stop. But he doesn't loosen up his grip on you.

"You okay?" you ask softly.

He finally raises his head to look at you. "I missed your eyes," he says. "I thought everything was just dandy, but as soon as the trickster popped up all the little things I miss about you added up and I—"

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay." He's about to start crying again, you can tell. "I'm right here, you don't have to miss me, and I'm not going anywhere."

Jake takes a deep breath, and finally lets you go. "I'm making a lovely fool out of myself, aren't I?"

"You got that half right—you're definitely lovely." When he goes red—he never could take a compliment—you continue, "You just managed to shake off the influence of cherub candy without doing…well, anything trickster-like. I'd say that was the opposite of making an fool out of yourself."

He shudders. "I don't want to ever do that again."

"Hey, next time just come find me. I'm totally down for going down on you."

"Dirk!"

"Or vice versa."

"Dirk!"

You weren't aware that Jake was capable of turning that shade of red. "What, you're telling me you didn't want to?"

"I—I just—no! I mean yes—I mean..." As Jake's stammering, the closet door opens. He freezes, blushing a few shades deeper still.

You look over your shoulder. "Hey, Kanaya." Yes, this is embarrassing. No, you don't let it show. "You want us to relocate?"

Kanaya sighs. "You two," she says sternly, "just cost me two weeks worth of making dinner for Rose. I need a shirt off that shelf behind you, Jake."

"Uh—" Jake just stares at her, so you reach behind him and pull something off the shelf. Maybe it's a shirt, maybe not, but you toss it to Kanaya, and she catches it.

"Are we good?" you ask her.

"Of course, although I would have liked it if you could have waited another week. This door has a lock; keep that in mind if you feel like having a bit more privacy." She winks at you—did you really just see that?—and steps back out of the closet, shutting the door behind her.

You stare after her for a minute, then turn back to Jake. He still looks embarrassed, but now there's a substantial amount of bewilderment thrown in. "Did she," he asks carefully, "did she and Rose have a wager on for if we'd get back together?"

"I think it was for when we'd get together, actually," you tell him. "Not if."

He opens his mouth. Closes it again. And bursts out laughing. You don't see why, but watching him laugh is enough to get you to smile at least.

He's still laughing when he reaches forward, grabs your head, and pulls you in for another kiss.

Having him laughing is a thousand times better than having him in tears. Having him of his own mind versus having him in trickster mode...

Well. There is no comparison whatsoever.

And you are more than happy to kiss him back.

#Dirkjake #Dirk #Jake #arquius #kanaya #Dumb baby boys

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arcticficialbanana · 6 years

Text

Wild World

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2,761

Warnings: Mental health issues, fluff, tiny angst

A/N: For the Titles Are Hard challenge, by @impala-dreamer If you don’t want spoilers...Don’t read the prompt until after, but I’ve combo’d it with this post from @writing-prompt-s. Since it has to be 3k or under I will probably have to make it a mini-series...as my readers know my usual runs around 6k or 9k.

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You tuck your arm under your head, pressing your face into your forearm. You grasp a handful of the back of your head in frustration, scratching your scalp beneath your hair. You place your other arm over your head, covering your ear with your bicep to drown out the tormented sounds of your roommate. This bed is so flat and thin that you can’t get comfortable. You tuck your face closer into the pillow, but it smells musty and like stale laundry detergent. Conceding to your restlessness you turn onto your back and stare at the grayish ceiling above the pale blue walls. Translucent moonlight seeps through the window and in it’s rays you can see dust swirling overhead. The metal bed frame across the room rattles with the shakes of it’s occupant. Poor soul, probably another nightmare. Maybe a late night chat would calm her down and one of you could get some form of sleep. You swing your legs out of bed and touch them to the floor. You observe the trembling form under the sheets and frown, wondering what’s brought her to this place. With a sigh you pull yourself up and slowly walk toward her bed. She is facing the wall and you’re not sure what the most gentle way to wake her is, but you don’t want her to keep suffering. Your hand reaches out toward her shoulder delicately, but you catch yourself. Didn’t you hear something about not waking a person in a nightmare? Was it a nightmare or a night terror? What was the difference again? Maybe it was sleep walking... As you wonder what would be the right thing to do, your roommate stirs in her bed. You make your decision and lean in toward her, but before you get too far she whips herself over to face you. She shrieks in terror at your darkened face in the night and pushes herself back into the wall.

“No, no, it’s ok. It’s me, Y/N,” you try to calm her, but every time you move closer she shrills louder. The lights snap on overhead and two nurses rush into the room, “Get back!” one yells at you and obediently you retreat to your side of the room. “I was only trying to help,” you shake as her screams vibrate through the room. They carry her away and shut the door in haste. A moment later a nurse cracks the door open and looks in on you. “We understand darling, don’t worry she will be just fine,” she sighs and walks halfway into the room, “It’s just, in a place like this, you can’t approach people like that.” She looks at you sympathetically and crosses her palms in front of her belly politely. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, “I was only-I was trying- I just wanted to-wanted to help her,” you stutter, fighting the whirling panic. The nurse shakes her head kindly, “Don’t be upset, my dear. I’ll give you helpful advice, as a rule keep your hands to yourself. You never know what kind of histories people have here. Abuse and what may be.” You reflect her nod and suck in a deep breath, “Okay.” you wipe your tears away and she bows slightly, “There, there, everything is well, I promise.” she says before spinning on her heel and walking out of the room.

The lights dim out much slower than they flipped on and you face the ceiling, watching the filament lose it’s glow.

“It’s my first week here.” You fold your hands in your lap, pausing to meditate on everything that’s brought you to this chair. You fiddle your thumbs and when someone makes a guttural throat noise you stop fidgeting and run your hands down your thighs to your knees, smoothing out your robe. “I have never had an episode before this month and I’m not sure what to say,” You raise your head and glance around the room, “I didn’t realize it could happen so suddenly. I thought you either had, erm,” you look at the faces in the circle and rephrase your thoughts in your head so that you don’t offend anyone, “mental issues, or you are….healthy.” You wince, hoping that this isn’t the wrong thing to say, but nobody reacts much to your insults. “Well, it’s not like I am insulting anyone here, because clearly I am here too.”

“You don’t need to be afraid to speak here.” A woman remarks as you continue to fumble your words.

“What brings you here?” She asks.

“Well,” You take a deep breath and close your eyes to recall a memory for you to describe, “I saw something that I can’t explain.” You scowl as you remember the flickering figure in your mind, “It was …well it wasn’t,” your throat is scratchy and you habitually touch your hand to your collarbone, “I don’t know why this is so difficult for me to get out.” Behind your eyelids you can see the form of a person in front of you, but they’re static and semitransparent.

A knot tightens in your stomach and you open your eyes to see some of your groupmates staring at you, or through you. Some of them aren’t paying attention, just sitting in their chairs focusing on something of their own.

You take a gulp and tell them, “I saw a ghost.”

Nobody says anything at first, but you feel conflicted saying it out loud, “I don’t know how to come to terms with it, because I know it wasn’t real, but whatever sort of hallucination it was-“

“You’re so clueless.” Someone in the circle scoffs and gets out of their chair dramatically.

The ringleader glares and shushes, “Don’t let anybody discourage you. Whatever you see is your truth. That’s why you came here to talk about it, right?”

You nod uncertainly but figure it’s something you��ll come to understand with time.

“I’m going to take a walk.” You say awkwardly to get out of the group, feeling very uncomfortable and looking for an excuse to be alone.

Some people in the group nod robotically and you stand up and bow gracelessly, unsure how to end this session.

Everybody ignores you as you walk out of the room and you keep your head down as you pass a few doctors or nurses or attendants. You haven’t bothered getting to know anybody. You aren’t sure the protocol for behavior in these circumstances. You feel completely normal. You don’t feel crazy, but at the same time you can’t explain why your head was making you see inexplicable things. Were you crazy, or were you having a mental breakdown? Nobody really interacts with one another here, but you follow around the groups of people as it seems like the schedule is very flexible. You came in earlier in the week and explained your situation, and everybody was very gracious and understanding. It doesn’t seem like there are very strict rules, and you kind of like that. Maybe a little bit more structure would be nice, but you weren’t sure what to expect when you checked yourself in. There is a certain amount of relief in the fact that you’re not tied down and force fed drugs in a straitjacket. Maybe that was a cartoonish idea of mental institutions, but you never had to think about it before. It seems more like a drug rehab facility; go, do whatever you want as long as you stay within the lines and talk it out.

Air swishes against your cheek and you turn to face an open arching frame leading outside. Following the path of cobblestones, you walk into an overgrown garden. You kneel down and observe the mismatched flowerbeds, growing into one another. Grass tickles your shins, desperately needing a shearing. You notice a patch of dandelions and grab them close to the root to pull them up out of the ground. Most of the root comes out and you tuck it into your robe pocket after breaking the heads off. Five or six dandelion heads roll around in your palms and you pinch them by the stem to make a fluffy bouquet of wishes. Your eyelids drooped down automatically and you hold your breath as you think of something you would like to wish for- Some clarity. You blow into your hands and most of the little seeds float away with the current of the air. A few remained in your hand, but you watched what floats away instead, following the path away from the garden with your eyes. You inhaled sharply with a gasp as a man walks through the tall grass toward you. You choked on a couple of dandelion seeds that made their way into your throat with your sudden inhale. Your hand grasps at your throat and a voice booms over you, “Are you okay?” You wave your free hand and turn away to spit out the offending obstruction. You cover your mouth in embarrassment and turn back to the man, blushing as you look up at his towering height.

“I’m fine.” You say meekly and he crouches down across from you.

“What are you doing here?” He asks and you look around the empty garden before meeting his eyes, “I just wanted to go for a walk.” You shrug.

“How far did you come for your walk?” he scrutinizes you, huddled in the flowerbed in your dirty clothes.

“Oh,” you say with an air of insecurity, turning away from him when you catch yourself staring at the speckles in his eyes, “Not very far,” you giggle, figuring that he is teasing you. “Why are you walking here?” He leans farther down to you and his hair fall in front of his face. You turn back to him, glancing over his clothing. He doesn’t look like a patient, but he doesn’t look like any of the workers either. “I was having a hard time dealing with …all of it I suppose.” You shrug and brush off dry dirt from your robe. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m Sam.” He says apprehensively and stretches his hand out to you. Hesitant to touch him, you are left unsure of what to do. You were told you weren’t really supposed to touch anybody, but he looked friendly and unafraid. “Oh, I’m Y/N.” you smile and decide to take his hand. It was calloused, but warm, and its large palm encompassed your entire hand in it. “That’s lovely, Y/N.” Sam smiles at you and offers out his other hand, “Can I help you up?”

You stare at his forearms, rippled with muscles up to the point where his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. Half hypnotized you nod and he grips your shoulder, swooping you up with him as he stands. His chest is staring you in the face, or at least you feel as though it is, since the broad frame is captivating your field of vision. He laughs a hearty laugh and you feel tingles in your cheeks, probably tinging a pale pink right now. You step back from him and can’t help but get captivated by his shining smile. Relaxing a little you breath relief, “Thank you.” You spin around, expecting that he is heading inside and begin to walk back to the archway.

“Wait, Y/N!” he steps toward you, but recoils back instantly.

You turn and furrow your brow in confusion, “Sam?”

“You shouldn’t go in there,” Sam tenses up, making you anxious. You spin around to make sure nobody was coming toward you, but you only saw someone far down the hall, not paying attention this way. “What?” you turn back and blink at him, troubled by his tone, but very puzzled. He points to the building and shakes his head at you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he indicates, making you laugh nervously. You walk back toward him, so the loud talking doesn’t attract the attention of any of the nurses. “What do you mean?” you say in a hushed voice, wondering if there are rumors you should know about. “This isn’t the kind of place for you to be hanging out, Y/N.” Sam hunches so that he is closer to your level. “Hanging out? I’m not hanging out, Sam.” You screw up your face wondering if he doesn’t understand that you are a patient. “I need help, Sam.” You assert to him, trying to make it clear why you are here.

“Okay, I can help you. Just tell me what’s wrong,” Sam very gently proposes.

Baffled, you tilt your head at him, “No, it’s okay Sam, that’s why I’m here.”

“Listen, Y/N,” Sam apprehensively steps toward you and casually takes your hand, “I’m not sure what kind of closure you are looking for, but this isn’t a safe place for you. Your mind races, trying to make sense of what he is saying, but suddenly you think you might have figured out what is going on. Sam must be a patient here too. “Oh, man.” You say as you smack your hand to your face, feeling duped by his charming appearance. Of course not all crazy people look …crazy. You don’t look crazy, or at least you don’t think.

“Y/N,” Sam says and puts his arm around your shoulder, “I understand that you are going through something, but this place is very haunted.” He tries to lead you away from the building, but you jerk out of his grasp. “That isn’t funny.” You become very uneasy and cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Is this something the doctors told you to do?” You wonder if this is some sort of immersion therapy, or perhaps a test by the nurses to see how much progress you’ve made. Are you supposed to make progress this soon? A week isn’t that long, shouldn’t they give you more time before something like this? Sam slants his head trying to understand you but doesn’t speak right away, and his mouth forms a questioning circle. “No, you can tell them that I haven’t seen anything.” You snap at him, feeling bad that he gets your backlash, but you are feeling very on edge right now. Sam’s eyes shift around, but he finally forms the words to say “Y/N, no, I don’t think you understand,” Either Sam is really good at his assignment, or maybe you were right in the first place, and he also sees ghosts. “Y/N, you could get really hurt here.” Sam stands up straight, flustered with your lack of cooperation. “Right now, I think the only person that can hurt me here is you.” You step backwards, sure to keep your eye on him as you retreat to safety. “DON’T!” Sam shouts at you, but you throw your hands in front of yourself, “Don’t come any closer!” you shake your head furiously, “I’ll scream!” “This is serious!” Sam beckons to you, worry written across his face, “You don’t know what those spirits can do to you.” He pleads with his desperate eyes. You stop walking backward and stomp on the ground forcefully.

“That’s enough!” you squeeze your eyes shut, losing control of your voice, “GHOSTS AREN’T REAL!” your eyes begin to sting and you whirl toward the arches and run back to your room.

Sam closes the door to the motel room behind him and rubs the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He sighs and goes to tell his brother his findings of the institution.

“Dean?” Sam calls out when he finds the room empty.

A man swings open the bathroom door and walks out with a toothbrush gripped in his hand, “Did you scope it out? Gather any important information there?”

Dean leaves the door open and hovers over the bathroom sink, running water over the bristles. Sam falls into an armchair and pulls out his notepad.

“Actually, yeah,” he taps his notepad to his forehead and thinks about how to explain his encounter. Dean swishes the brush in his mouth and looks curiously over at his brother. He mumbles something through a mouth full of paste sounding like, “What’ve you got?”

“Someone was there,” Sam starts, chuckling at Dean’s peculiar expression, “Alive!” Sam says in surprise of his own.

Dean spits into the sink and rinses out his mouth before toweling off his hands and shouting back at Sam, “Oh yeah? What were they doing there?”

“I think she was staying there?” He says incredulously.

“What?” Dean bursts into the room, “Did she know that the place has been closed for 30 years?”

#dreamer's title challenge #Sam x reader #Samxreader #SUPERNATURAL AU #Supernatural Fiction #supernatural imagine #Supernatural #Sam Imagine #Sam Winchester Imagine #Sam Fiction #Sam AU #Sam Winchester #Impala Dreamer #Impala-Dreamer #Supernatural Challenge #Writing Prompts #Challenge

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vonseal · 7 years

Text

a friendly game

some socky laser tag fun for @sassysavagesanha! happy birthday! im sorry im late with this, but i hope you enjoy it regardless!

i’m going to post it on A03 tomorrow, when i’m more awake to edit it properly!

It was supposed to be a friendly game of laser tag.

Though Sanha didn't know why he thought that he could combine the words friendly and game in a sentence when it referred back to Park Minhyuk.

Minhyuk was the bane of Sanha's existence. He was competitive to a fault, ruining even simple video games for Sanha (gloating brilliantly when he won, pouting endlessly when he lost). Sanha didn't even bother trying to bring Monopoly back into his house after Minhyuk broke a board during a casual match with Myungjun and Bin.

Bin had warned him, too: “His competitive streak is too big,” the older boy whispered as he cleaned up torn pieces of Monopoly money. “Don't get involved whenever he wants to do something.”

Sanha got involved, though. He got way too involved. Because despite that major character flaw, Minhyuk had such endearing personality traits that Sanha could honestly look past the weird, competitive streak.

Minhyuk was passionate. Maybe that's what made him so inclined to fight to the death over stupid board games, but it was also what made him dance so beautifully and sing so well. It was what made him a smart student in his academics and a kind student in his social groups.

He was tough, as well, and wouldn't hesitate to call people out if they tried to start something. Sanha cleaned up his bruises and cuts more than once, chastising him about challenging the school bullies. (“They're thugs,” Sanha had complained, “not worth your time.”

“They were hitting the new transfer kid,” Minhyuk replied, wincing as Sanha put a band-aid on his face. “I wasn't going to let them get away with it.”

And Sanha had just felt his heart beat wildly in his chest.)

He was soft, both physically and mentally.

(Sanha had mentioned that point to him one day, and Minhyuk showed off the muscles in his arms. “Soft?” he asked. “I'm full of muscle.”

“No, it's your skin,” Sanha corrected. “Your skin and...and your face, sometimes, when I get to feel that. And your hair. And your eyes. And your-”

“You felt my eyes?”

“No, but they look soft.”

“Eyes are gooey.”

“You get what I mean, Minhyuk!”)

He was perfect, with all of his traits and with all of his flaws.

So Sanha started to date him.

(Minhyuk initiated the dating. Minhyuk was shy and awkward as he stammered out his question: “D-Do you want to, um, go visit this new cafe with me? It's supposed to be delicious-”

“Is this a date, Park Minhyuk?”

Sanha enjoyed watching Minhyuk's face turn bright red.)

Their first date went extremely well, once Minhyuk loosened up. Soon enough, Myungjun declared that they might be the cutest couple in the school (much to Dongmin and Bin's chagrin).

“And cute couples play laser tag,” was the thesis of Minhyuk's half-hour-long talk. Sanha would have much preferred it in paper format.

Besides, Minhyuk did have a point; cute couples played laser tag. They were a cute couple. By all means, they should play laser tag. But Sanha wasn't going to be so easily swayed by sound logic, because he liked to actually rely on his feelings and emotions from time to time. And at the current, they tugged at his gut, reminding him of all the friendly games he had partaken with Minhyuk over the years.

“I know how you get when you play games,” Sanha rebutted, crossing his arms over his chest and refusing to back down from his position. He was going to win against Minhyuk in this argument. For once in his life, he was going to win against Minhyuk. “You always do whatever it takes to win, even when you have to trample over others to do it.”

“But never you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sanha scoffed, “You just unplugged my controller the other day when I almost beat your high score in that stupid racing game!”

“Survival of the fittest,” was Minhyuk's defense.

Sanha was even more steadfast in his decision. “No means no.”

And Minhyuk was even more steadfast in his decision. It must have been his competitive streak taking over, because he quickly leaned into Sanha, pressing his lips up on Sanha's cheek and nuzzling his nose into Sanha's skin. “One game,” he whispered, “And I'll buy you three cartons of french fries.”

The offer was tempting. It was so tempting, and Sanha felt himself nearly drooling over the thought of having free french fries over their movie date that evening.

As a poor college student, three cartons of french fries was basically what he always dreamed his future would hold.

But as a man, a man who was steadfast in determination, he wasn't going to allow himself to lose his dignity and pride over three cartons of french fries.

Not three.

“Make it five,” he murmured, and Minhyuk readily agreed.

Sanha realized how stupid the idea was as he geared himself up for the event and stared over at the scoreboard on the large television nearby. The game hadn't started yet, and Sanha wondered if there was still time to switch sides without Minhyuk noticing.

(“I wanted to be on the same side!” Sanha had whined as he noticed that he and Minhyuk wore opposing colors.

“We didn't make reservations, and the birthday party team had one less member. Naturally, one of us had to go in.”

“And why me?”

“They're six year old kids. I think you'd fit in pretty well.”)

But before he could say anything to any of the employees, Minhyuk gave his shoulder a light shove. “We're going out first,” he mentioned, gesturing over to his team of younger teenagers. He appeared to be the oldest. Sanha wondered why the laser tag ring was only appealing to babies. “May the best man win Sanha, okay?”

And as he ran off, Sanha frowned bitterly and adjusted the armor on his chest, looking down at his beeping red dots. Minhyuk was going to be too competitive, especially when he was up against little kids. He couldn't stand to be beaten by little kids.

Poor guys, too. As Sanha looked them over, staring into their hopeful, exuberant eyes, he discovered that their youthful optimism had blinded them to what was dead ahead.

Sanha had lost his own youthful optimism when Minhyuk tripped him to win at a race. It was a miserable, sinking feeling, only made better from extensive apologies and plenty of ice cream, courtesy of Minhyuk himself.

Could he convince Minhyuk to buy ice cream for fourteen kids?

Probably not.

So he would do the next best thing. He would align with the children, sectioning himself off as their self-proclaimed leader, and explaining their game plan. They listened about as well as little children could before Sanha gave his final order: “Hide low, shoot quick. Aim to kill. Especially that stupid-looking bigger kid, alright? Destroy him.”

Then he released his army out into the wilderness that was the laser tag rink.

Kids hyped up on sugar and spirit, though, were actually useful. They were fast, darting in and out behind props, changing places with other teammates, and taking down plenty of young teenagers before they themselves would go down. Sanha cheered them on from time to time, whispering encouraging messages whenever he passed by a hiding spot.

He checked the score every so often, and grinned when he realized he was in front of Minhyuk.

“Eat that, you loser,” he muttered to himself before turning a corner.

The loser was right nearby.

Sanha held up his gun in a hurry, but Minhyuk, in all of his dancing talent, was far more quick. He dodged Sanha's first shot, then allowed his chest light to go out with the second shot.

Sanha couldn't shoot a third time, on account of Minhyuk being far too close range for Sanha's aim to reach anything of importance.

“Minhyuk, stop it,” Sanha complained as he was backed into a corner by his own boyfriend. “We're going to play this fair and square, alright?”

Minhyuk hummed out a response; it was neither yes nor no, and so Sanha rephrased his question.

“We're going to take steps back and shoot each other properly, like laser tag is done.”

“Oh, of course,” Minhyuk responded, but he didn't follow Sanha's wishes. Instead, he placed a kiss upon his boyfriend's cheek; just one kiss.

Sanha's skin tingled, and he slapped a hand over the affected area. “Minhyuk, my team is full of kids! What if they see?”

“What if they see what?” Minhyuk asked, a devious smile on his face. “It's not like cheek kisses are bad, are they? See, if I wanted to be bad, I would do this-”

He would kiss Sanha, apparently, passionately, lovingly, right on the lips. And Sanha, in all his weakness, couldn't help but to kiss back, wrapping his longer arms around Minhyuk's body and just relishing in the moment. Sure, it was in a musty laser tag rink with screaming children right nearby as they wondered where their dear leader was, but it was still a kiss, and it was a kiss initiated by Minhyuk.

If Sanha wasn't already in love, he definitely developed it right then and there.

It was a pity that Minhyuk drew back, just as Sanha was getting into the kiss.

It was also a pity that Minhyuk took the quiet opportunity to suddenly start shooting at Sanha's small, blinking lights, and before Sanha could react, none of them were lit up. He was out of the game, defeated by none other than Park Minhyuk.

Park Minhyuk, that smug bastard.

“Minhyuk!” Sanha gasped, breathless and shocked at the display of terrible sportsmanship. “That's against the rules!”

“I don't see no kissing your hot boyfriend anywhere on the list,” Minhyuk deadpanned, and he smirked, stepping away and giving Sanha a small salute. “Anyway, you'd better head back to your base. Because, you know, you're completely out of the game.”

“Minhyuk!” Sanha knew he was whining now, but Minhyuk didn't seem to care. He simply laughed and turned away, scurrying over to the front door and mumbling, “now time to ruin that pesky kid's birthday party.”

Friendly game, Sanha thought as he trudged back to the entrance of the laser tag rink.

There was no such thing as a friendly game when Minhyuk was involved.

(And, somehow, as Sanha curled up on him that night, he realized he didn't mind it so much.)

#my fanfic #socky #socky fanfiction #socky fanfic #astro fanfiction #astro fanfic #HAPPY BIRTHDAY VAL ILU

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dartlekey · 7 years

Text

A Tale Of Things Lost

Chapter 3: Motivation (Also on AO3)

Summary: Fight ON!

Notes: Did you notice each chapter title is both the topic of the chapter and a thing that was lost (corresponding to the title of this fic)? I feel so witty for coming up with that...

(Previous Chapter)

It became a routine for them rather quickly.

Walking to school together, walking home together, telling each other half-secrets or falling into meaningful silences - Takenaka was surprised they hadn't become friends earlier, considering how well they harmonized.

Then again, neither of them had really been open to meaningful friendships before... Perhaps, it was due to this inexperience that it took Takenaka nearly two weeks to realize that Inukawa was avoiding his console during telepathy club.

At first, it was a simple thought of Haven't seen Inukawa on his nerd box for a while. But Takenaka didn't pay much heed to it. After all, the two of them didn't used to be friends, so maybe Inukawa abandoning his console in favor of playing cards with Takenaka was simply him socialising. But then Inukawa started looking for new activities, reading comic books one day, watching cat videos on his phone the next - seemingly picking activities at random to have something to do.

When he opened Tome's favorite book on telepathy, Takenaka knew that something had to be wrong. (How bored did you have to be?) So the next day, when they were walking to school, he just asked.

“Is there something wrong with your gaming console?”

Inukawa was a good liar, that much had to be said, but Takenaka knew him well enough by now to recognize the signs of his dishonesty even without reading his thoughts - for example, Inukawa had this odd habit of touching his right pinky to his thumb when he was being lying, and he was doing so right now. “Hm, no. Why?”

Takenaka made a face. “Really? Lying to a telepath? Dumb idea, try again.”

Inukawa scowled. “I'm not!” He managed to keep the scowl up for a full five seconds before he gave up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “...well, not technically. It's not the console, it's me; I can't play anymore.”

Takenaka frowned. “Why not? - Oh. It reminds you of Moetyl?” (Moetyl being the alien planet; another fragment of Inukawa's memory they'd recently discovered.)

Inukawa nodded, looking away. “It's a bit ironic... When I was on Moetyl I spent hours on the console, just to forget about where I was - now that I'm home, it reminds me of that place every time I so much as look at it.”

“And you've found nothing that can replace it.”

Inukawa sighed. “Yeah. I mean, playing cards or watching cat videos or whatever, it's fun… but it kinda feels empty, you know? Like I'm just wasting time. Gaming gives you this sense of achievement. When you've finished another level or defeated another boss, it feels like you've done something.”

“I thought the whole point of this was you wanting to waste your spring of youth on meaningless leisure activities.”

Inukawa hesitated. “Well yeah, but not… not like that. I still want memories to take home.”

Takenaka sighed. “So, something where you achieve a goal, but not something that requires any sort of teamwork, or responsibility for someone else…” He made a face. “Has anyone ever told you that you're a piece of work?”

Inukawa grinned apologetically. “Actually, no. I'm a fake hoe, remember? The only person I'm so honest with is my best friend, and that's you.”

“Wha-? That's not - I mean, uh…”, Takenaka spluttered - obviously flustered, much to Inukawa's delight. “...You can't just spring your friendship on people like that, dammit!”

“Aw, you're blushing, Takenaka!”

“Am not! Inukawa, stop laughing!”

Inukawa did not stop laughing.

“Ugh, why do I hang out with you!”, Takenaka complained, punching Inukawa in the shoulder. Unfortunately, that only served to make him laugh harder.

“How should I know,” Inukawa wheezed. “Even the aliens kicked me out after ten days.”

Takenaka winced, but couldn't stop himself from grinning. “Ouch.”

As amusing as making fun of each other was, they still didn't have a solution by the time club hour rolled around. Inukawa entertained himself by throwing small paper shreds at Tome, waiting to see if she'd notice over reading her book. Takenaka was thinking hard, trying to come up with a solution. In all honesty, the best idea seemed to be leaving the telepathy club and joining another club - an environment obsessed with aliens and slacking off couldn't be healthy for Inukawa - but what club to join that could meet his needs? Any other activity Takenaka could come up with had some form of competition, the student council being the sole exception - but that was loaded with responsibilities...

He looked up at the sudden noise at the door; Musashi and the rest of the Body Improvement Club were entering the clubroom, immediately gathering in the corner for a pep talk. Takenaka frowned. Telepathy club may be weird, but those guys were weirder. A sports club, as enthusiastic as they came, but unlike the other training nuts, they never really aimed for anything. The only wish they had was to be left alone and - improve… themselves…

Of course! How could he have been so blind?

Takenaka elbowed Inukawa in the stomach, causing the other boy to drop his paper missiles. “We should join the Body Improvement Club!”

Inukawa looked at him like he'd grown shojo alien eyes. “Whaa?”

“Think about it! Goal driven, but not a teamsport, and no competition. The only responsibility is for yourself… Not to mention the mental benefits of working out; endorphins and all that stuff. It's perfect!”

Judging by Inukawa’s expression, this was actually very far from his idea of perfect. Takenaka was about to gripe at him for his missing gratitude, but then realized what this idea must sound like to someone who'd never exercised a day in his life.

“Look, we can at least try it, right?” Takenaka tried to rephrase his idea. “One day, if you don't like it, we can just go back to the telepathy club!”

The other boy hesitated. Extending his telepathic range past his earplugs, Takenaka watched Inukawa weigh his laziness against his boredom as Musashi finished up his talk - in the end, boredom won, not least because Inukawa didn't want to look like a total loser in front of Takenaka. Of course the telepath pretended not to notice, but he stored that bit of information in a small compartment of his brain reserved for derisive laughter sessions and blackmail.

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Inukawa conceded.

Takenaka stood up. “Great!” He walked towards Musashi, making Inukawa jump up in his chair in a hurry to go after him, banging his knee on the table in the process. “Fudge - hey, wait up!”

Takenaka didn't answer - Takenaka walked up to the Body Improvement Club, surprised club members parting before him, and said to Goda with only a slight tremble in his voice - “Inukawa and I want to try out the Body Improvement Club.”

Across the room, Tome spit out her soda. “I'm sorry, the fuck what?”

Goda’s bushy eyebrows rose in surprise, but before he could answer, Onigawara stepped out from beside him. “You wanna join the body improvement club?”, he said dubiously, giving the two of them a once over. Takenaka felt his hackles rise. Neither of them was that unfit, and they certainly didn't deserve the These losers? that Onigawara was thinking.

“Is that a problem, pretty boy?”, was what Takenaka chose as a comeback. Adequate, it seemed, as Onigawara’s eye twitched even as Takenaka felt his temper boil over. “Pretty boy?! I'll give you -”

Onigawaras flying arms were immediately grabbed and twisted back by Goda, who patiently smiled at the recovered rowdy. “What did we say about fighting, Tenga?”

They're on first name basis? Takenaka noted curiously as Onigawara scowled, looking to the side. “Only in self defense. But that was -!”

“-not a physical attack,” Musashi smoothly interrupted. “So, not a reason to get upset.”

Onigawara grumbled something unintelligible, but Takenaka could see the regret and embarrassment already drifting across his mindscape. “Whatever.”

“What was that?”, Musashi said.

Onigawara sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered in Takenaka's general direction. “It's okay,” Inukawa said, moving out from where he'd been hiding behind Takenaka (gee, thanks for the support). “We're aware that we're not exactly the best club material.”

“Nonsense!”, Goda exclaimed. “Everybody starts somewhere! It's your motivation that counts!”

Takenaka had to hold in a snort at Inukawa's immediate, Yeah, that's what I meant. Out loud, he just said “I see.”

Goda smiled. “That's the spirit! Anyway, I just told the others today's work out plan: we'll warm up, stretch, and then do a bit of running - after that, it's individual weights training. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.”

Takenaka and Inukawa exchanged a wary glance, both suddenly overcome with the feeling that this had been a bad idea - only that it was too late to back out now.

“Okay,” Goda raised his voice. “Is everybody ready?”

“Ossu!”, the others boomed. Takenaka winced at the volume, causing Inukawa to snort. Takenaka responded by childishly sticking out his tongue as they filed out, heading to the changing rooms.

Ready?, he thought sceptically. Ready for the sweet embrace of death.

How are these people middle schoolers, Takenaka wondered lightheadedly as he watched the other members of the body improvement club change. Did they really get that Hugh-Jackman-physique just by training? ...Well, they were all too morally uptight to take steroids, but it still seemed incredible - especially when comparing his own scrawny self to them.

Takenaka glanced over at Inukawa, who had gotten his shirt stuck on his head. Well, there's at least one normal person here. Though, when he looked closely, Inukawa seemed a bit ...thin? Takenaka remembered him being chubby at the sports festival, but now he could see his ribs standing out. Did he lose that weight on Moetyl?

But then something else caught his attention. “What the - Inukawa, how on earth did you get those?”, he said a bit too loudly, causing the whole club to look over.

Inukawa finally managed to force his head through the opening and looked at Takenaka. “Hm? Oh, those,” he said offhandedly, glancing down at his legs - which were, up to about knee-height, covered with an assortment of bruises, half-healed scratches and fresh scars. “That was day four. There was this warring species that used to destroy the crops of the N’Eivackh - despite all their technological advancement, they couldn't defend themselves, having no concept of weapons in the first place... I scared those things off eventually, but they were pretty persistent. Tiny, sure, but those cudgels hurt something wicked.”

Takenaka stared at him, eventually managing to say, “That was… pretty altruistic of you.”

Inukawa grinned evilly. “Not really. They reminded me of my parents’ dog - and I really hate that thing. You could say it was substitutional revenge.”

Takenaka swallowed. Looks like he'd have to revise his opinion of Inukawa yet again. So he’s not a coward - he just, once again, lacks the motivation for a fight.

Onigawara certainly seemed positively impressed. “Bro, that's amazin’! I wish I had the chance to beat up actual aliens.”

The body improvement club, fortunately, knew about the aliens; Mob had told them after the holidays, and they'd believed him without question.

Mob…

Takenaka felt a stab of worry. I wonder when he's getting out of the hospital.

Warm up went surprisingly well; perhaps because Takenaka was used to it from Tennis. However, stretching was another story, since he’d previously always found a way to slack off from that…

“Hey,” came a gruff whisper from next to him. Takenaka looked over and realized he was standing next to Onigawara, who was leaning over towards him. “You’re kinda holdin’ your breath right now - you gotta breathe normally, or the muscles aint gonna relax properly.”

Takenaka blinked - then forced himself to breathe out slowly, keeping his focus on breathing steadily for the time being. In a matter of seconds, he could feel his muscles relaxing and stretching farther than before.

“Thanks,” he whispered to Onigawara, surprised at the other’s helpfulness. Onigawara just nodded and leaned back.

“Everything alright, you two?”, Goda called over, causing Onigawara to startle. “Ah, nah, it’s nothin’,” Onigawara called back, causing Takenaka to look over in surprise - that rowdy, covering for him? Even after their initial fight?

Maybe it was time for a little kindness in return.

“‘Gentle Typhoon’,” he called over to Goda, making Onigawara frown with confusion. “That new movie that came out recently? About that bodybuilder dude? Onigawara was saying he wanted to see it, but none of his friends wanna go so he’s looking for someone to join him.”

“What are you -” Onigawara hissed, but was interrupted by Goda excitedly exclaiming, “Really? I’ve been wanting to see that as well… Do you have time on Saturday?”

Onigawara stared at him, understanding dawning and flushing his face scarlet. “Y-yeah,” he stammered, “Yah, sure. Pick you up at five?”

Goda grinned happily. “Great! Looking forward to it.”

The rest of their stretching session was quiet, but still entertaining as Takenaka could watch Goda smiling giddily, Onigawara blushing helplessly - and Inukawa shaking with silent laughter. He allowed himself a smug grin. Yeah, I’m good at this.

As they headed up the hill to start their run, Onigawara sidled up next to him. “How the fuck did you do that?”, the rowdy asked, disbelief mingling with awe on his open face. Takenaka smirked. “I have my ways,” he said airily. “Trade secret. You’re welcome, though.”

Onigawara laughed. “Alright, I guess that’s fair.”

Takenaka nodded. He’d asked Mob to keep his telepathic abilities a secret when telling the story of the alien encounter; Takenaka wasn’t really in a place yet where he felt comfortable with everyone knowing about his powers. The telepathy club was already more than enough...

“Yup, it is - anyways, have fun on your date.”

Watching Onigawara blush like a virgin would probably never get old. “Shut up.”

They started running, and suddenly there was no breath for talk. Takenaka couldn’t say he was surprised with how out of shape he was, but it was certainly disheartening, especially since Inukawa seemed to be holding up a lot better than him. The others were complimenting him on his achievement, whereas with Takenaka they only complimented his efforts…

Though admittedly, they did both with equal enthusiasm. It was still so strange to Takenaka, how the body improvement club was never judgemental; involuntarily hearing adults and peers alike evaluating him all his life had left him rather jaded, and almost jealous of how easy it was for the other members of the club to be nice to one another. In truth, he’s always wanted to be like them, but life had beaten his innocence out of him before it could develop into an undiscriminating mindset. Looking at Inukawa’s easy smiles as he complimented them back filled him with an odd sense of melancholy.

Although…

He huffed, frowning, and sped up even through his burning muscles to catch up to Inukawa. “Hey… hah… are you… hfff… alright?”

Inukawa slowed down, frowning at Takenaka as his short legs somehow carried him more steadily than Takenaka’s long ones. “I… should think so? ...Why, shouldn’t you... be more worried... about yourself?”

Takenaka nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, and decided to save his breath by going telepathic. Telepathetic, hur dur. I’m not talking about the running, I just… I’m getting this feeling of an impending something from you, and I think it’s getting stronger.

Inukawa shrugged, and followed the other club members around the bend of the jogging path. “Not quite sure what you mean, but I guess it -”

He immediately fell silent as the path spread out before them again, getting lost in the city before emerging from the houses and leading up to the large mountain over Spices City, which had been obscured before. Inukawa stopped in his tracks, nearly falling over from momentum, but that was nothing compared to the mental blast Takenaka received, even through his earplugs.

“Inukawa!”

The others stopped jogging away at the shout, instead turning and running back to Inukawa, who was now bent over, staring at the ground while holding onto his knees, hands shaking. “I… I was walking. Running, at several points but mostly walking up the… the hill. There was, there was this hill, it was … and a cave, at the top, calling to me. I walked up there on my ninth day; all day, I was walking, following this, this pull, and I walked up the hill to the cave and I -”

Inukawa fell silent, looking exhausted, and not just physically. “I don’t know after that. That’s it.”

Takenaka held out a hand to him. “That’s already more than enough,” he said softly.

Inukawa looked up, and hesitantly grabbed the hand, a sigh escaping him as he straightened up. “You think?”

Takenaka nodded, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Yeah, you did great! You have a whole day remembered now, right? The ninth, you said. Granted, it wasn’t a very eventful one from the sound of it, but that’s still a whole quarter of your memories back! One out of four.”

“Yeah, I know what a quarter is,” Inukawa said drily, but Takenaka could feel the gratefulness seeping out of him, dissipating the wave of anxiety and loneliness drawn out by the memory.

“Hey, are you alright?”, Goda asked; the quickest to reach them out of the team. Inukawa immediately waved him off. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy… I guess I overestimated myself.”

“Ah, yeah. Kageyama-kun started off the same way,” Onigawara grinned in a bad attempt to lighten the mood. “Fainted on half of the runs… And look at him now!”

There was an awkward silence. “Ah, fuck,” Onigawara grumbled, worry lines creasing his forehead. “Eh, well… just take it easy, yeah?”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t push yourself too hard,” Goda added, trying to dissipate the tension. “Try just walking slowly for a bit, we’re almost back at the school anyway. And you don’t have to do weights training if you don’t feel okay. Just because this is your first time here doesn’t mean you have to impress us.”

Inukawa nodded, looking relieved - but Takenaka thought also a bit ashamed. “Yeah, okay. Walking sounds good.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Takenaka quickly added, “uh - in case he faints or something.”

Goda nodded, giving him an appraising look. “Quick thinking, Takenaka. Your compassion does you credit…” He turned to the rest of the team. “Alright boys, lets go! Body Improvement - ”

“Fight ON!”, the others cheered with him, and started jogging along the path again. Slowly, Takenaka and Inukawa followed them, watching them disappear quickly into the distance.

“Compassion my ass,” Takenaka grumbled, slipping his hand out of Inukawas, which he hadn’t even realized he’d still been holding until now. “My emotional range consists of two things: ‘Mild Disgust’ and ‘Intense Regret’, and those already take up enough space as is.”

Inukawa laughed shakily. “Don’t forget ‘Dead inside’.”

Takenaka smiled worriedly. “Oh, yeah. How could I not mention that one.”

For a few minutes they walked in silence, but then Takenaka had finally gathered enough nerve to blurt out, “I’m really sorry, man. This was a stupid idea; I shouldn’t have tried to convince you.”

Inukawa looked over at him with evident surprise. “What? No, no! The Body Improvement Club is great, I love it!”

Takenaka blinked. “Really?”

Inukawa nodded, tucking his hair, which had become loose during the jog, back behind his ears. “It’s fun. Exercising actually isn’t that bad - just when you do it alone, it’s hard to get up any motivation, and it feels awkward. Gymnastics club back in elementary was pretty much the same… Wait, did I tell you I used to do that?”

Takenaka shook his head. “Gymnastics? No, you didn’t mention that.”

“Yeah, from first to fourth grade,” Inukawa admitted, grinning lopsidedly. “That’s when I finally convinced mom to let me drop out; because it sucked, you know? We were just a bunch of kids with no motivation sent to exercise by our respective moms; trying to hide from any actual work in the bleachers and making fun of kids who took the club seriously. Which was sometimes fun, sure, but mostly it felt empty... Sports lost their appeal to me after that, but the Body Improvement Club - they’re so motivated, it kinda drags you along until you suddenly find yourself thinking, hey, this is not so bad…”

He grinned. “You really have a knack for that, you know? Pushing me to do things I don’t want, and only realize I need afterwards.”

Takenaka opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I, uh… I can assure you I have no idea what I’m doing half the time. Most of the time actually. You’re giving me too much credit.”

“You’re giving yourself too little,” Inukawa countered. “Goda’s right about your compassion, you know; it’s a gift. I know I certainly don’t have it. Even now, I’m leeching off your kindness while you probably have at least thirty better things to do than joining a sports club despite just having dropped out of one, and comforting this anxious mess that doesn’t improve your life one iota. I’m the bad friend, not you. Think about it.”

Takenaka stared at him. “You think you’re a bad friend?”

Inukawa gave him an anxious smile. “I know I am. I only make you worry - I make everyone worry, for that matter. First day, and they already have to make adjustments for me. Good job, Inukawa.”

“Oh no, no,” Takenaka said, grabbing Inukawa’s shoulder. “You’re not a bad friend - and I mean I do worry about you, but I wouldn’t stay just for that. You know me, I get social exhaustion; if you were a burden I’d leave.”

Inukawa tilted his head. “Not if your guilt about Moetyl is making you stay.”

Takenaka’s jaw dropped. “What? No! I- look, being a telepath doesn’t just make me easy to guilt-trip. It makes me someone who values honesty, and trust - and I can honestly say that I trust no one as much as you. You’re my best friend, man, not just because I want to help but because you help me. Because you make me laugh with your terrible sense of humor, because you listen to me when I need to vent and don’t zone out halfway, because you tell me to shut up when I’m being dumb and you do the eyebrow thing when I’m being sappy - look, you’re doing it right now!”

Inukawa immediately covered his eyebrows with his hands, then looked faintly embarrassed as he realized what he was doing. Takenaka snorted, then Inukawa giggled and suddenly they were both laughing loudly. “You dumbass, I wasn’t done being dramatic,” Takenaka wheezed protestingly as they walked onwards, the Body Improvement Club now only a speck in front of the distant school gates. “You’re an important friend to me, okay? Don’t put yourself down like that, you have more than enough anxiety as it is.”

Inukawa sighed, giving Takenaka a tired smile. “I’ll try, if you do the same.”

Takenaka nodded solemnly. “And if anything is bothering you, you talk to me.”

“Yeah.”

After a few seconds, Inukawa added, “What is bothering me right now is that you jog like my grandmother. Weren’t you in the tennis club? You should have the stamina to keep up with me at least, if not the others.”

Takenaka stared at him incredulously, somewhere between amused and offended. “You-! How dare you. I was doing my best!”

Inukawa snorted. “That was your best? Wow. Are all espers as unfit as you?”

“Oh, you’ll see how unfit I am when I kick your ass!”

Inukawa started jogging away. “Only if you catch me first!”

Takenaka ran after him, burning legs returning with a vengeance. “Why, oh why did I pick a sports club...”

#inunaka #takenaka momozou #inukawa mameta #mob psycho 100 #body improvement club #banchou improvement club #telepathy club #chapter 3

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