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omiscurls · 3 years

Note

Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

#kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya headcanons #tartaglia fluff #tartalgia #childe fluff #childe x reader #childe headcanons #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #gender neutral reader

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

Who Needs Luck?

A/N: hi! I solely wrote this because of my 3 recent visits to NY (no, I sadly did not meet mgg)... plus i’ve been going there my whole life.. this is becoming the longest authors note, but as i’m writing I just want to say the people who work at food trucks in nyc are the nicest people ever, ask them about their day (AND TIP OMG PLS)

Summary: Reader invites Spencer to go to New York City with her where he finally sees the beauty right in front of him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff!

Content Warnings: reader can’t drive very well (I apologize if this is a callout post), slight road rage, language

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

____

I never considered myself a lucky man. Life had proven time and time again that no matter how many four leaf clovers I set out to search for, how many pennies on the ground faced heads up I stumbled across, luck was never on my side. I’ve learned to live with it, accepted my fate as the world’s smartest punching bag long before I was even in college.

But then I met her, and as cheesy as it sounds, I didn’t need luck that morning.

The second I woke up, the universe seemed to have it out for me specifically. I swung my legs over my bed, and in my half asleep daze stepped on my glasses, successfully breaking them. Unable to see on my short trip to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe… twice. Once I finally finished my morning routine more methodically, I walked out of my apartment only to bump into a stranger, sending the coffee she was holding all the both of us.

I had tried to apologize so many times, cutting my words short when they didn’t feel right. I had gotten through a series of “I’m, uh, oh, I, you,” before her smile interrupted my thought process, leaving me awestruck instead.

“That’s okay, but you owe me a coffee now.” She giggled, actually giggled, even with the scorching liquid causing her shirt to stick to her body. “Maybe… together?”

I didn’t hesitate to agree, taking her up on the offer that weekend and never looking back. Even when a loud crash, followed by a quiet, harsh ‘shit’ woke me up in a startle, there was no regret. Maybe just a little concern for my girlfriend who now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, can be seen holding her knee on the floor of our bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered out, grabbing onto the dresser to stand straight again. Once she was on her feet, she came over to sit on the edge of our bed, immediately running her fingers through my hair. If I wasn’t so worried about her knee, I probably would’ve fell asleep again.

“Are you okay?” She giggled at my scratchy morning voice before nodding her head. It’s then I realized how the sun hasn’t even begun to rise, the room still pitchblack. “What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready to go to the city, sleepyhead,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer, but truthfully, it left me with more questions.

“At... 5 am?” I sat up, glancing at the alarm clock three times just to make sure I was reading it right. She may have always been a little strange, but usually at a reasonable hour.

At this, she stood up to continue getting ready for the very early morning. Now I notice why she fell, the piles of clothes leading to the closet had to have at least half of her outfits compiled together.

“Well, yeah. I want to get there before noon.” Even in my perplexed state, I rose from the bed and carefully tiptoed around haphazardly thrown clothes to reach her.

While wrapping my arms around her waist still hidden under my t-shirt, I questioned. “It’s right outside? You have 7 hours.”

She turned to look at me funny as if I wasn’t the one digging through clothes and waking up before dawn to walk literally 5 minutes to my desired location. My eyebrows must have subconsciously furrowed at one point, because she brought her hand up to stroke her thumb on my forehead. Immediately, I felt the tension melt, no longer caring to correct my confusion. She still did it anyway.

“Not DC, silly. New York!” I wish it were untrue, but my heart dropped at her words. She was leaving, going to a city I wasn’t familiar with beyond reading about, solving cases, and memorizing subway maps. Is this how she feels every time I board that jet?

“W-what? You’re just going to New York City?” I inwardly cringed at how desperate and sad I sounded, but I really didn’t want her to leave.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, turning back around to return digging in her closet.

“For how long?” Please change your mind. Please change your mind. Please change you-

Realizing that I was fully awake, she let out a boisterous laugh, allowing the way it bounced off our four little walls to return back to us. It was a sound most treasured. “I was hoping to get back around 9.”

“What?” I leaned back to look at her like she was absolutely preposterous. I mean, she was!

“Roadtrip!”

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of her car, no coffee in my hand because I wasn’t allowed until I have “a real cup of coffee.” Whatever the hell that means better happen soon, because as much as I loved watching the way she concentrates on the road in front of her, my eyes were starting to droop.

“It’s going to be another 4 hours. You can sleep, my love.” How she knew me so well, I will never be able to figure out, but I was out before we even made it across state borders.

That however, didn’t last very long. My girlfriend may be short and sweet, but behind the wheel? That’s a different story. The horn to her car is a very familiar sound when I’m jolted awake by a sudden stop.

“Really, asshole? Go!” She yelled, slamming her hand against the top of the steering wheel before looking over at me. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I forgot how awful drivers are here.”

“Where is here exactly?” I questioned, sitting up from my slouched position to find cars practically on top of each other on a road not wide enough for two lanes.

“New Jersey. We’re 10 minutes away.” Wow, I didn’t realize I slept for that long, and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I wasn’t woken up sooner.

“How are we 10 minutes away? It’s at least another 30 to get to the tunnel.” Looking at our surroundings didn’t help me determine our exact location. To the left of us, there were dozens of graffiti murals on the side of what I assumed was another elevated highway. To the right, sidestreets with local businesses ranging from auto repair shops to fast food joints to gyms.

“Nuh uh, stop analyzing mister. You’ll know when we get there.” She waved a finger in my directions, putting a pin in my scrutinization. I pouted right back, successfully playing along to the theme of her scolding me like a 5 year old.

“I don’t like surprises you know.” It was the truth, but her contagious laughter that filled the car made me slightly less disinclined to stop asking questions.

“Oh I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” She went to go reach over to grab my hand from where it was resting in my lap, but stopped short and retracted in favor of slamming the horn. “Oh, come on!”

***

“So you drove to a train station... in New Jersey?” I asked while she was… attempting to park the car.

“Well, yeah. I’ve been taking this route since I was a little girl.” Once she finally figured out how to evenly space a two door convertible in a very spacious parking spot, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and was quick to grab her bag from the backseat. “Well, come on mister, we’re going to miss the train.”

To be quite honest, I have never been so lost in my life. I could probably pinpoint our exact location on a map if I wanted to, granted I was given any sort of information, but part of me didn’t want to. Scratch that, all of me didn’t want to, because my entire life has been planned out in front of me before, but right now, I get to be spontaneous with the most beautiful girl on the planet.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and pulling me forward. “Don’t stop to look around, you will get pushed.”

We made it inside, and if I thought the DC transit system was bustling with people constantly, this place was so much worse. There were hallways left and right, all packed with people in a rush. It seems everybody had some place to be and zero time to get there.

“Upstairs.” We walked up two flights before reaching a platform, buying our tickets and making it just in time for a train to arrive. “I know they come every 8 minutes, but thank god we made this one,” she said as she sat down.

The cart we were in wasn’t too crowded, and once I finally found a map on the wall across from us, I saw that it was a direct ride to the World Trade Center.

“You said you took this train when you were little?”

“Yeah, I went to the city a lot as a kid. This was the easiest, and the cheapest way there.” A small smile played at her lips, obviously the product of some childhood memory. “I used to hop it.”

“Of course you did,” I laughed back with her, thinking about how an innocent looking child would be the first person to get away with sneaking onto the train.

***

“I said it before, I will say it again. Do not let go of my hand.” This time it was more stern, and if I were being honest, I would say that it got me the slightest bit nervous. She must have noticed, she always does, because she continued. “Don’t worry, it just gets congested and I don’t want to lose you.”

She was right about that, it indeed was very congested, but that was okay because she was holding my hand, and I would follow her just about anywhere if it meant she kept looking over her shoulder and smiling when she saw me. Once we made it across the way, and in front of heavy looking glass doors, she turned to me and started walking backwards.

“You okay? This is definitely not off to a great start.” She was wrong, it was off to a perfect start.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but you might want to watch where you’re going,” I said before her back hit the door.

“Please I can get here with my eyes closed.” And then we were outside, and all 5 of my senses were hit immediately. The sun was shining down on us, and before I could complain about not bringing my sunglasses, she handed them to me. My heart fluttered at the innocent act, taking the sunglasses with such gratitude even though she had already moved on to retrieve hers. “Do you smell that?” She asked.

“There are a lot of answers to that question,” I told her, not knowing if she was talking about the smell of the construction happening at the corner, the permanent garbage smell or something entirely different.

“The hotdogs, silly. Come on, there’s nothing like ‘em.” This time, I laced our fingers together, not because I was scared of losing her, I was, but I just really wanted to be closer to her. She didn’t mind, in fact, she let out a content hum and leaned her head on my arm as we walked to the stand.

“Can I get four hotdogs with sauerkraut and two grape sodas,” she asked the vendor, who politely nodded before moving on to prepare our food.

“You’re going to have a heart attack by 35,” I said as I nudged her with my shoulder. She gave me a small push back before answering.

“Is that a doctor’s diagnosis?” She asked as she took our now ready food into her hands, after paying the man before I even had time to blink. I just grabbed the two cans of soda and followed her where she was making a beeline for a park bench. “Watch out for skaters.”

“Yes, it is indeed a doctor's diagnosis.” I unwrapped one of the hotdogs before taking a bite. I closed my eyes and let out a content hum. “It may be a little worth it.”

“Exactly.” We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm weather and sounds of wheels against pavement. At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder, and I am convinced wherever she went would be Heaven.

***

“Are your eyes closed?” We found ourselves with both our hands interlocked, my eyes closed while she walked backwards. I gave an ‘mhm’ before she continued. “We’re here, just keep them closed, and…” her words trailed off. “Okay open.”

I opened my eyes to her holding her arms out in the middle of the largest bookstore I’ve ever seen. “Surprise!” My eyes were bouncing everywhere. It wasn’t too crowded, the large stairwell across the store catching my eye first. There were bookshelves tens of feet high, all loaded with different genres and authors. To the right of us, tiny knick knacks and pins and socks. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” I whispered out, still stuck in my place admiring our surroundings. She was beaming up at me, a hint of pride at her successfulness to drag me 6 hours away to the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“The Strand has always been my favorite place in the city. Come on, let’s go explore.” She grabbed my hands again, pulling me deeper into the store towards a shelf labeled adult fiction.

***

Six books, three pairs of socks and a postcard later, we were back on the busy streets of New York, aimlessly walking and admiring the tall buildings and different attractions. Well she was, I was admiring the way she was looking around like it was her first time here. Maybe I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings, but no amount of skyscrapers or fountains could possibly ever match up to her level of beauty.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked randomly, startling her into jumping a tiny bit before giggling. She stopped us, turning to face me fully before reaching up to grab my face in her hands.

“Once or twice.” The kiss we shared on the New York streets were no different than the ones before, but this time, it felt like a silent promise. A passing between two lovers that no matter where we are, our love is the most beautiful thing there is. “I love you too, dork.”

___

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matchamorphosis · 3 years

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 1-800-𝓘-𝓛𝓞𝓥𝓔-𝓤

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 || waiting for you and your beau’s dinner reservation later on tonight you and he spend valentines day together through the devotion of your dial rotary telephone

𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮 || fluffy smut

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 || steve rogers × [black//woc]!reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 || 4.6K

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 || 18+ nsfw, introduction to phone sex but i don’t go any bit further, body worship, captain kink, one bibical mention, reader gets spoiled to the t!, but still this is not suitable for anyone that isn’t 18+

𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓼 || move over darling by doris day ♡ all of me by billie holiday ♡ unforgettable by nat king cole ♡ dream a little dream of me by ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong

𝔀. 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 || this is my gift for the divine @denisemarieangelina! for @chrissquares + @drabblewithfrannybarnes + @amythedvdhoarder Hoelentine’s Day Challenge! ♡ i’m very anxious to share this because i did this simpler version of writing then what i’m usually used to but I hope you enjoy this lovely and happy valentines day! muah! ♡ please tell me if you don’t like this because i can always add onto this if you want more! ♡ anyways i hope you cherubs enjoy this to! ♡♡♡

BABY PINK ENVELOPES FILL THE SPACE IN YOUR HANDS

humming along to the musing record that spins on the turntable the kitchen is alive with the sentimental lyrics of Nat King Cole and Billie Holiday you sway your leg over your knee as you read the bush colored letters. the quaint apartment complex fills with blissful warmth, for the maiden in the kitchen enjoys her breakfast yearning for her partner to return as quickly as he promised. analyzing the intricate curves and dips of Steven’s handwriting, it pulls you into a hypnotizing trance as your mind fills with nothing but his deep voice as you read along.

cordial elements wrapping the visible areas of skin your Valentine’s sweethearts button down doesn’t cover. it is a relaying fact that the crisp expansive piece makes your body seem petite but because of its obscene size the fabric falls past your shoulders in a graceful fashion. clumsily buttoning up the blazer wrongly that early morning, it only adds onto the carefree nature that exhibits and adds onto your soft sways and musical hums.

reaching for your steaming pink mug of milk chocolate cappuccino that lays near more open letters and more envelopes free from their wax sealings. you plan on opening all of them throughout the day, holding onto the handle you bring it up to your soft lips. attentive fingertips trace the cursive black ink of Steven’s handwriting in a lovesick gaze. the accidental ink splotches and small charcoal sketches of floral anatomy make the pace of your heart slow in a tender beat.

despite your devoted attention being on your beau’s love letters there are other envelopes that aren’t just from your Steven. although to make it easier to recognize the difference between the uninterested letter from past lovers and secret admirers Stevens envelopes are printed in your favorite shade of pink.

these darling letters that Steven is now confident to share with you are filled with small poems. being terrified of gifting you in the early phases of your relationship, your holding the multiple pages amongst pages of dazing sketches of your bodies beautiful features. paragraphs that outline his love letters to you which he kept hidden in a journal. reading and daydreaming as you take in each poetic sentence of your beau explain and sharing each love struck moment of his days that he adored spending with you.

the timeline of these letters go back from days, to weeks to whole years. it astounds you how you’ve never caught Steven in the act of writing poetry or making a love entrée yet you aren’t at all complaining. however the envelopes were a surprise to come across to when you looked over the mail. they weren’t in your daily sack delivered by the porter but laying in a huge pile on your kitchen island before he left that morning.

they went handsomely with his gifted bouquet of your favorite flowers that decorated each room of your apartment. a bud of them you found laying amongst the colorfully cream colored candles is now in your hair tucked behind your ear. Steven’s handwriting displayed on the front-

for my darling

they were just waiting for you to read and so here you are soaking in each vow hidden in his whimsical sonnets and ballads.

smelling both the sweet nectar of the flower and the divine cocoa of your cappuccino you continue reading from his letters. mirthful eyes dashing along each word of the little poem he wrote for you, the gleaming smile that frames your face doesn’t settle down one bit as you read and sing them not louder than a breathy whisper. giggling aloud and kicking your bare feet in the air when you read Steven’s beautifully crafted poetry centered and dedicated to you and only you.

the letters seem to distract you from the vast amounts of gifts, arranging from exquisitely wrapped small boxes to large gift bags bearing designer brands. Steven sent each gift along with the blush colored letters but they lie unattentively under your pedicured feet that bounce along with the turntable. singing along Billie Holidays lyrics of April in Paris as you continue to read and sip from your chocolatey cappuccino. the letters themselves are elegantly scattered onto the marble island where you bite into one of the buttery croissants that are bunched in a wooden basket you have prepared since the morning.

of course you weren’t supposed to eat alone, by all means this day of domestic and fairytale romance wasn’t suited to be spent alone. it of course isn’t suited for you in the slightest, not like you to bear this inconvenience.

in front of you -well behind the sketches your dreamily admiring- rests a large breakfast consisting of baked sweet and savory pastries, sunny yellow omelets and fresh ripe fruit. the early meal was suppose to be a little feast for both you and the public hero but of course your heroic beau had his urgent errands to run. a phone call rudely interrupted the session of your passionate lips and tongues destine to spiral you both on the cloud of desire.

the ringtone acting as nothing but an irritating background noise, it cause the blond to pull away to deal with it. walking away from you and out of your private bathroom suite and as obvious as this is going to sound- Steven didn’t decline the call. from your position as you sat on the marble and gold flecked kitchen sink, your hand rests on the golden swan at the faucet.

listening as you heard him hum along to whatever the dispatcher had to say before hanging up and heard his footsteps coming closer and there you say your lover. smiling to him as you pulled him towards you, lips gracing his he cut the devastating news to you of his unplanned errands. apologizing to you with a kiss but ending it with a promise for an intimate dinner reservation he did plan beforehand.

then with a change of clothes, he was out the door but you willed yourself to not be upset at him. your Steven always kept his promises and you were still swooning over the lovely events that happened last night that still show the results of it all on your skin and a delicious soreness in between your legs. ending passionately in wine soaking your thoughts and actions you both headed to your apartment and tangled in your sheets. you now are wearing his button up he wore to the dinner reservation that night, slightly wrinkled yet smelling of Stevens entrancing cologne.

it brings you back to that night and you could still feel the searing butterfly traces of his lips along your collarbones, neck and breasts. dainty and vivid as the white sunshine that streams through the high white apertures of your apartment.

it’s all beautifully cinematic

the music playing on the record as you enjoy your breakfast while reading your lovers letters to you. chocolate spread used to smear over the flaky pastry in your hand smears the corners of your lips and you wish Steven is here to thumb it away. a sorrow filled sigh break through your lips, knowing these letters are all you have of him at the moment as he’s out busy at Stark Tower doing only god knows what and bumping heads with only god knows who. silence only greets those thoughts and you realize that the collection of records playing your favorite romance artists have stopped sounding out their hearty tunes.

frowning, you get up and replay the record before returning back to the kitchen and to your seat. hands go back to the letters and your heart warms up in a matter of blissful seconds, cheery contentment dawning your face in delightful charm. although a question still dances along the crowded ballroom of your mind-

whatever will you do with the time you have alone on Valentine’s Day awaiting for your beau?

it is only eight in the morning, Stevens plans are set around nine tonight and you could do so much more than just doll yourself up. finishing your lavish breakfast you begin tidying up once you place another record on the sitting room turntable. the music flowing throughout the large and finely furnished apartment, it creates a heavenly picturesque glow that brightens the golden framed paintings and renaissance clawfoot furniture.

you feel like an old Hollywood actress staring in her romantic comedy, it makes you nothing but languorous glee. the beauty of your vivid imagination pulling your typewritten script and setting your scenes to hear the director yell action! manifesting the movie with each pirouetting step, you feel the timeless sensation of Audrey Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor gracing down on from the heavens.

singing along with the records, recited movie lines from Breakfast At Tiffany’s and Rear Window. romantically immortal films consisting of elegant tailored outfits of Chanel and Moschino that the leading actress would flirt with her on screen partner, long and lust filled stares between your lover and the epitome of transatlantic accents that would make an European swoon.

the craftsmanship of your fantasy aiding you by hiding away any untouched breakfast foods, biting into a jam filled puff pastry you keep the sweet confectionery in between your teeth as you organize Steven’s letters. filing them from the ones you have read, that you carefully fold back into their envelops- to the ones you plan on reading later. clearing them away safely on an ivory tabletom dancing along with the beat of the record.

pulling yourself back into the visionary scene of your beloved vintage films, a baby blue Dior headband frames your heads crown and keeps your untamed bed hair away from your temple as you start a kettle of tea. retrieving your personally cherished china set from your glassy cupboards, soaking your desired teabags, home grown herbs and honey dewdrops into the separate porcelain teapot. turning the nob on the stovetop off once the screeching kettle ready with boiling water becomes louder than the music, it quietly dies down and you hum as you place the boiling water into the small porcelain teapot.

steam erupting, its soothing when the scorching water drenches in the tea ingredients that begin to linger a sweet smelling scent. peachy cheeks soft and dewy as the sweet sunshine bounces off them, you carefully unfold each divinely wrapped box covered with glossy ribbons and confetti gift bag covered in strawberry scented tissue paper. blowing and sipping from your tea cup, you tenderly bundle Stevens button up around you as you examine his gift.

each eye grabbing and more expansive with each one passing you look over the heavy offering of baby pink and cream tulle trimmed Agent Provocateur lingerie. the occasion of lacey babydolls and pink fury teddys holding cupid hearts coming once with every three bags you also discover the silver Tiffany charms in powdered pistachio blue boxes. pastel pink heart-shaped pastel boxes of Chardonnet et Walker pink marc de champagne truffles make your mouth tingle.

mink coats and cashmere sweaters dedicated to wrap you nice and warm in the snowy weather. a starlight smile shines at the fact of Steven remembering you looking through a few catalogues days after New Years. princess cut Dior earrings that shine like dangling stars and heart-shaped Prada handbags that would make any winged cherub strike their golden arrows into.

Steven always went above and beyond with your Valentine gifts and you weren’t even halfway done with opening the boxes and bags but seemed fit to prepare yourself for the day ahead of you.

curves swaying along with Louis Armstrong's flaunting trumpet and Ella Fitzgerald's sweetly divine vocals once you get from your criss-crossed position on the floor. passing the wrapping paper and ribbon bows scattered in a sprawled lovecore mess, you make your way to your bedroom. bare feet adding against the carpet, passing golden framed body length mirrors and vase upon vase of flowers and burning candles. a silver tray bearing the porcelain petunia painted tea kettle, china tea cup and Stevens letters in your hands.

entering your open bedroom filled with crisp sunshine, your eyes dash over to your mess of a bed. white sheets that once held two giggling and kissing lovers is now empty with the exception of your pet laying lazily on the wrinkled plush comforter. blowing a kiss to the sleeping fluffy beauty before opening the molded white door to your private suite.

dancing along the white marble of the floor you run your bathtub full of hot water. taking your time preparing your dress and the lingerie you’ll wear tonight, it wasn’t exactly easy. Steven took a great joy in gifting you all the luxuries of jewelery, lingerie and clothing you desired, took great joy in fucking you in them as well. but as you enter the bathroom and exit to go through your wardrobe in your closets you go through boxes upon boxes of lingerie.

rummaging the organized baby pink boxes that you took hours organizing, you did realize that some bralettes were missing their panties yet you remember your gentlemen liked keeping a pair or two in his office when he’s away. you settle with not wearing anything Steven bought you but what you ordered on a website that caught your attention, more so intrigued of the fabulous singer and actress who ran the brand.

the divine deep red Valentines Day pieces of Fenty Lingerie were expansive but so was your credit card as you ordered the whole collection. hiding the box away from Steven and his too curious grasps you now reveal the box and open it. taking out the desired heart bralettes and Gartier belted thigh highs that went along with the lewd sheer panties you let out a delightful squeal at the thought of Steven ripping off your silk slip dress to reveal this sinful number.

sipping from your tea, you go through your jewelry boxes settled on seashell chests on your vanity. retrieving your dearest diamond accessories to go along with the slip dress you head back to the bathroom. the water rising to your favorable height you fill the marble crest with rose petals, rose oils, rose water and rose bubble bath. of course, with Steven’s relentless showing of gifts there were enough Italian imported red wines for you to bathe in but you settled for your rose bath set that was tucked in the corners of your towel closet.

burning Diptyque candles around the tub, you settle your delicate cup down on the tray. departing from your beaus button down, you sink your feet and body into the floral water glowing in pearly bubbles smelling just the tint of sea salt. dissolving your thoughts and worries in the soft pink-hued mist your hands reach for Steven’s letters. carefully undoing the crimson wax seal your fingers grasp the letter and polaroid photographs it holds.

giggling when you read that this specific letter is about you and Stevens first time. reading along the lines of his amusing embarrassment of him not knowing what he was doing exactly it still warms your heart when he stated in his own writing that he was grateful and happy to share that moment with you.

the letter going into detail of all the moments that break you into laughter- such as when you and Steven rolled off your bed unaware as you and him were to wrapped in the passion- to your face heating up when he went into erratic detail of his hand placements on your ‘Aphrodite like body encouraging the Aries affair to overturn gracefully, to repent in no favor but yours’.

not being ashamed to write down every moment of the midnight passion. from the way you tongues and lips were locked and didn’t dare separate for air, to how his hands ripped your clothes into shreds ‘to praise and worship the skin that sparkled and shone like buried treasures for my hands to caress’. a heavenly burn begins fluttering in between your bubble sud thighs when you look over the polaroid's. some you took and some he took but all in all they showed you and him doing, well-

your first time

a slow hand that doesn’t hold the scandalous polaroid's flows down to your bubble covered breast. pinching the nipple, the sensation only sends the pleasure down south to your hidden jewel. biting your bottom lip, you crave for Steven’s hands. crave his lips, crave his touch...

generally, his attention but you cannot go past your golden rule no matter how good the thought of your fingers stroking your folds sounds. knowing its best to not break the rule of touching yourself without his permission the thought of it sits pleasantly in your head. trying to distract yourself the growing sensation with his other letters and plucking one of the fifty fluffy macaroons that lie on the pretty Laudree packaging.

Steven gifted you all the luxuries that would substitute his absence, but all you ever wanted was him

heart thumping in this truth you again attempt to distract yourself with his blush colored letter. cooing at Stevens cute sketches of you and reading poems dedicated to his first impression when meeting you- but you cannot think of anything or concentrate on anything but the first letter. giving cheating glances back to the polaroid's, your glance is captivated by Steven’s handsome and muscled physique in the contrasted filter. the faintly colored noir-film like pictures emphasizing on his golden skin rippling against the sheets caging you in with his arms.

the night replays with the jazz music in the ballroom of your mind, throwing your head back you feel yourself underneath him just as you were then. hands in his hair and his clenching the sheets besides your head when you kiss passionately as he rubbed his hard member against your forbidden fruit.

it didn’t help your case at all that you’re embellishing that night into your thoughts. it’s only making you desire your sweetheart more and more, needing him more and more as the minutes passed.

wanting- no, craving to hear the sweet music that is his voice

yearning to descry the divine tinge of his tongue clicking to his teeth when you says your name so sweetly. to imagine the movement of his tulip petal lips as he speaks his ‘I love you’s’ like a prayer and he’s on his knees for a goddess.

oh you needed it just as much as his instructions on how to handle your distressing state. realizing the soft pink dial telephone that stood at the opposite side of the tub you bite your lip in thought.

should you call Steven?

it makes you wonder, shifting against the water careful to not spill any over the edge. chewing on a raspberry macaroon at the thought, you pout not knowing exactly what you’d say. you and Steven have been in a relationship for years now, it should be simple to call your lover and talk to him about this yet a sparking idea light up like a shimmering star above your head.

you and Steven were both helpless for dirty talk, your words and underlying message would pull him out of whatever he was in to cater to help you with your problem.

your thundering impatience and searing lust had shameless minds of their own as you pulled the cushioned ottomon closer to you and dialed Steven’s office number through the rotary disc. heart strumming along with the music continuing to play in the distance you do not exhale a breath as you hear the sound of the phone dialing. the powdered pink handset in your hands. chin resting on the rim of the porcelain tub as your lips brush against the mouthpiece in the shape of a heart.

when the dial ends with the sounds of him about to speak a gleaming smile radiates off your lips, pulling the handset closer to you to speak.

“Steven!” your giggle that follows afterwards makes a dimpled smile pull at the blond’s lips and he lightly chuckles.

your presence melting away anything else that captured his attention away from you. fortunately you weren’t the only one craving the love and affection of your partner, Steven was in a busy meeting with Tony and the other avengers at the grey and stern table. argued his way through and pursuing a solution to the worldly crisis that was in their hands but with the progress he’s making he’s sure to help the team come to an agreement.

“how are you doing, my love? did you enjoy your gifts? i’m counting down the hours till I pick you up for our reservation. treat you how you should be treated today,” Steven’s tender words breaks your dreamy state and your wispy babydoll lashes flutter at the sound of his voice.

“well right now i’m taking a bath. drinking some tea, reading your letters and i just so happened to cross on this one specific letter…” your teasing voice flowing through the mouthpiece and into Steven’s ears.

striking his brain, trying to comprehend what you're saying and trying to decipher whether your giggles are aimed towards him or onto something else. you made it known how much of a tease you were, from your suggestive dresses you’d torture him with when you’d attend gala’s to your shameless yet elegant class as you’d whisper all the dirty things you want him to do you once you two got home.

indeed it worked like a charm, sometimes it left little self control as he’d take you in that backseat of the sleek vehicle. it’s definitely working now

“alright what are going on about you little minx?” Steven states, a tint of his dominance in his voice but you continue to drift in your fit of giggles as you bend your knee to your chest in exuberance.

pulling Steven’s letters that rest besides the silver tray of macaroons and tea, you hug them to your chest as you reread his paragraphs upon paragraphs of his thunderous thoughts and detailed emotions ravaging you in sinful detail.

“oh, nothing Stevie... just couldn’t stop thinking about a little something, do wanna know about it?”

“absolutely darling. anything is better then being in that room with those blockheads,” Steven didn’t know he said that thought aloud but you don’t care.

you’re panning on relieving the throbbing pleasure pulsing at your slicked core and maybe undo some stress he’s under if he’s a fair distance away from wandering ears.

“will do Captain, ‘the second our mouths collided was an ambrosial taken place. a supernova in labor between our bodies thriving to find our peak, creating a cosmos of divination as her walls wrapped around my cock. the indescribable pleasure as unforgettable as the dimple at the corner of your fiery lips and enchanting sparkle in her eyes. the moans that flowed from her mouth soft and encouraging-

“‘-as I wrapped her thighs over my shoulder and thrusted my cock deeper and deeper into her forbidden fruit. her sweet, forbidden fruit so sweet I wouldn’t dare reject if a serpent offered so.’ I was hoping you’d read that special one, you need to understand how lovesick I was for you then. i’m still lovesick about you now but its gotten impossibly stronger now than before.”

that statement makes you shift in the water, rubbing your thighs together as your fingers rest in between them. imagining its Steven’s large hand that’s pinned at the plushness, however you’re yearning for the warmth, security and skill they hold that your hands don’t nearly possess.

“lovesick you say?” you purr, the sinful sound rolling off your tongue it makes roses blush on Stevens cheeks.

an unknown tightness of his trousers making itself known, he grits his teeth at your tactic but he cannot help it. he gives in so easily for you, it impossible to repent and withold

“yes doll, i’m lovesick. lovesick for you and only you. now answer your Captain, did you enjoy your gifts?” his voice growing and deepening, lust soaking his thoughts and hardening his member at the thoughts of you, you, you.

holding the phone in between your ear and should as you pluck another macaroon from the assortment. a smirk plays on your lips knowing that your plan is working, you can here his little grits and groans as he locks his office door.

“I did enjoy your gifts Captain, and I love the fact that seventy percent of them all are tiny pretty things that barely cover my body. I love giving you a good show when you get home from work,” your voice smooth as the buttercream roses you decorate with your heart-shaped cakes.

your free hand tweaks at your nipple, the remands of strawberry vanilla from your previous macaroon stick on your tongue but how how you want to taste the pre cum that leaks from Steven’s tip. the filthy thought has you abandoning your breast to give attention to your cunt, a whimper excluding your lips when it burns so good at just the touch.

“mhm I knew you’d enjoy them doll. you always pull such good performances for me in them. so sweet and pretty, all for me to rip it off you,” you don’t mean to slip past a moan as your fingers rub your pearl but it’s too late to take it back when he hear Stevens stern exhale.

“are you touching yourself sweetheart?” his voice isn’t smooth and suave no more but raspy and demanding, making your fingers stop their rubbing motion.

“n-no,” you fib but all you want to do is sink in the bubbly warm water when you hear Steven darkly chuckle.

“don’t lie to your Captain sweetheart. are you touching yourself? tell the truth,” you gulp at that, mouth shaking as you bring the sound piece of the handset closer to your lips. internally hoping and praying that Steven will give in to you, even when you’re breaking a golden rule.

“yes. yes I am Captain,” your breathy whisper holds all the euphoria and lust you're body is swimming in and it doesn’t help that you hear the metal clank of a belt unbuckling.

“without my permission?” you can’t decipher his voice, whether or not he’s angry or disappointed your fingers stop tracing the bubbly surface of the pink tinted water.

“y-yes, Captain- but I just couldn’t help it! you left me and my mess alone this morning. i’m so lonely here without you,” you mellow, your fingers once again tracing your lower lips.

not daring to plunge them deeper once you hear the light sound of Stevens heavy breath fanning into your ear. shivers sending up and down your spine deliciously, it’s like he’s here with you now even when he’s on the other side of the city.

“mhm, you just couldn’t help it, sugar can’t you? you need me right now don’t you sweet girl? you need your Captain to help you?” nodding hysterically along with him.

coming to a realization that your lover can’t see you nod your head, your pretty lips you’d let him kiss and use any day pull into a pout. knowing you’re going to have to beg him to allow yourself to touch your pussy.

well, his pussy

“yes please! I-I need you Ste- Captain! please I need you!” your breathy voice begs and on the other end Steven has a smirk playing on his handsome face.

it’s hours until he’ll be done with his meeting and hours until he picks you up for your dinner reservation but he’s in your debt. you never know this but Steven was sprawled in your hand, whatever you desired and needed he’ll give you within the snap of his fingers. if you needed him when he’s away, he’ll make it seem he’s right near the tub. guiding your fingers in and out of your hole and leaving praises and affirmations into your ear.

“how can I say no to you doll?”

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#happyhoelidays2020 #happyhoelentine’schallenge2021 #brattycherubwrites #steve rogers #steve rogers × black!reader #steve rogers × woc!reader #steve rogers × reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #chris evans × woc!reader #chris evans × black!reader #chris evans × reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

177 notes · View notes

soulsilvers · 3 years

Note

(points at ye) rank the pkmn trainers from ur least fav to fav :] also this is optional but ur free to include the rival characs if u want

design wise?? i dont think i can sort them from least fav to most fav but i can still analyze every design so i will rank them like this instead :-) i will do the rivals maybe some other day

original red: CUTE AND COOL a classic look. its funny how he kind of looks dweeby w a tucked in shirt but cool at the same time thanks to the sick high top sneakers. i will only accept red w black hair and dark brown eyes 5/5

frlg red: evil. why is he balding?? why are his pants NEON? no high top sneakers what did they DO 2/5

lgpe leaf: she is alright but i wish she had a big cool chunky jacket or something. her giant cowlick is excellent character design. weird sporty gnc girl representation 4/5

frlg leaf: funky early 2000's legwarmers girl, unashamedly a 2004 look. kind of oversaturated colors and i think she should have shorts instead or smth but its alright 4/5

original ethan: cool dude, up 2 no good as you can tell. his shoes rule 5/5

hgss ethan: updated to be whats cool in 2010, og ethan could be his 11 yr old self and this one could be a bit older more mature version of him. comfortable pants i like them but doesnt beat the og design 4/5

kris: very cool, sporty and memorable design. sick shoes once again and blue hair is perfect for a protagonist. 5/5

lyra: cutesy design, i like her hoodie-type shirt and overalls combo. but thats about it not one of my absolute faves 3/5

brendan: certainly rides a bike. oras design coolest. 3/5 hes ok iguess

may: i prefer r/s may the most, badass gloves too. i dont hate oras may but its clear they were like "she HAS to be more girly!!! >:(" 4/5

lucas: og lucas is a really boring boy i think 2/5, his platinum design is a big improvement now he has a nice jacket. 3/5

dawn: og dawn is cute and memorable, even if i have no idea what those things on her hair are theyre fashionable 3/5. platinum dawn could be sooo great but it literally pisses me off so much bc its meant to be a WINTER OUTFIT and yet she looks like she has no pants at all. why are you trying to freeze this girl to death @ the designers stop being cringe? 2/5

hilda: THE BEST a true heroic new yorker.. i so wish my hair could be a giant ponytail like that. i really like that pokemas gave her a sort of an impatient hothead personality instead of just being teehee cute 5/5

hilbert: he is pretty cool and i like his hairstyle and jacket. not too strong opinions on him 3/5

rosa: she looks REALLY fun and this time im ok w a girly design when its allowed to be just.. fun and comfy! please give pkmn protags more outrageous styles like hers 5/5

nate: ok i actually like that he has a big stupid doofus hairstyle hes a protag after all. i guess he enjoys going swimming in cold lakes regularly? i am a nate defender 4/5

calem: another dude w the mostly blue clothes and red hat huh. this guys more Gender but again no strong opinions 3/5

serena: def fitting for kalos and the only one alongside dawn who can be feminine i think. does her skirt have pockets?? id like a skirt w pockets. 4/5

elio: sm elio is just some guy so he gets 3/5 but i like that he and selene have thicker eyebrows. usum elios design is looks v fun though w the bucket hat and shoes 4/5

selene: sm selene looks MUCH cooler than usum selene just check out the shoes. why did they take away her sick shoes and bag? 4/5

gloria: shes grown on me a loooot since first time i saw her, those giant chunky boots should be your first cue on that she is rowdy n up to no good! scottish out of five

victor: i guess the design works... if you wish to portray him as a big briddish pushover. hes kind of a boring boy too whos feeling just a wee bit woild w the ripped jeans. cool backpack though 2/5

#reply #long post #Anonymous

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Kick Some Ghost Ass

”Until Dawn Gang x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Sex jokes (excuse my bad humor)

Genre: CRACK, Humor

Summary: It’s one thing when trouble finds this gang, but why don’t we take a look at what happens when they go actively looking for trouble. Needless to say, chaos ensues and no one is spared. Some are more affected than others, and some are dead-ass traumatized, but isn’t that just how life is in general?

Requested by my dearest ever - Until Dawn Anon. Hi lovely! I’ve missed writing your requests and I’m really happy to be back, creating another chaotic fic! I’m sorry it has taken me so long to post it but here it finally is - crazy as ever! I hope you enjoy it! Love you to Blackwood Pines and back baby ❤❤❤

I don’t know how I’ve found myself in this situation but I’m not complaining. If I get to do dumb crazy shenanigans with my crew, I’m ready for just about anything. Not to mention I’m no stranger to ghost hunting. I’m that kid that made DIY Ouija boards and took them to cemeteries with their terrified friends. You should’ve seen us leaving after capturing no ghostly activity - my friends relieved as fuck, and me pissed as fuck.

But today, I’m not expecting nor will I be accepting any disappointment. Especially not with Jess swearing on her Chanel purse that she wasn’t making things up when she said she had a haunted house she wanted us to visit. I must say, I appreciate this group’s enthusiasm when it comes to the paranormal. Never have I had someone who catches my vibe on the subject so well, let alone an entire gang all sharing the same opinion as me - that ghosts, demons and poltergeists are so fucking cool. Sure, Emily took a bit of convincing and Jess is not one to give a shit about the other world creatures invisible to the human eye, but something allegedly happened that changed her mind.

Her a-hundred-and-something-year-old great-grandmother passed away recently and though the death itself didn’t shake Jess up as much as it probably should’ve, the events that followed led to this moment right now - the eleven of us pooling out of two minivans that have pulled up to a terrifying looking house in a wooded are of the suburbs. Jess literally gathered us all on an ‘emergency meeting’ in the courtyard of our college just so she could explain the situation in detail - she doesn’t do well with explaining things in general, let alone when she’s hysterical - so we only understood what she was trying to say when she mentioned the word ‘ghost’. That’s when we all started listening more closely, with the exception of Emily, Beth and Sam but the latter two were intrigued despite trying yo hide it. You can only imagine how excited Josh, Chris and I were, Mike and Matt following a close second behind. Ash was a tiny bit more hesitant but Chris convinced her to give in. And just like that, a week later, here we are.

“I gotta ask, did your great-gran own a VHS player? Or a chest in the attic? Bonus points if there’s a creepy, child-sized doll in there.“ Josh asks as he yanks all the equipment he insisted we bring out of the trunk of the minivan.

“Quit fucking around, Josh! This is serious!“ Jess complains from the spot she’s standing in, shivering in the cold autumn breeze.

“Yeah, Josh! VHS players, creepy dolls, that’s all child’s play.“ I scold him as I pull on my jacket, wrapping it around me more tightly, “Shit gets serious when there’s a secret basement.“

“Y/N!“ Jess shrieks in exasperation. Honesty, how am I supposed to NOT bother her when doing the opposite is so much easier and brings more amusement? “You’re not helping!“

“Wasn’t trying to.“ I wink at her, driving her into a new level of fury that almost leads her to chuck her phone at me. If it weren’t such a prized possession of hers, I’m pretty sure she would’ve chucked it with the intention of knocking me dead. I’m lucky she has the aim of a drunk toddler that spun around fifteen times.

“Hey, quit pissing my girlfriend off, will ya?!“ Mike, who is basically halfway inside the trunk of the other van calls out to us.

I roll my eyes but choose to let it slide. However, someone else doesn’t. Emily does a dramatic turn on her heel, turning to face Mike, or at least the only part of him which is visible. You can imagine how hard it is arguing with an ass like THAT. I don’t know how Emily does it but oh well, I guess I do it too, in a way.

“So it’s girlfriend now, huh? No space between the words?“ Oh that smile she’s flashing him, it could make the Devil himself shiver. I find it kinda hot though - it means shit’s about to go down or hit the fan, either way, the rest of us will be entertained.

Mikey boy straightens up, gracing the rest of us by-standers with his dazzling features. Nah, I’m capping. I honestly think Mike is as attractive as I am patient - very little, almost not at all. It’s surprising how him and Jess are now apparently together since I always pegged her to be the superficial type.

“Got a problem with that, Em?“ He asks, eyebrow raising, head tilting to the side. Oh yeah, it’s on now. But, as someone who’s been quite excited to do some ghost hunting, and also as a representative of the peanut gallery formed of the rest of us who find it amusing and annoying, I feel the need to cut it short before it goes where it shouldn’t. I came to see some exorcist shit, not Keeping Up With The Bitter Exs.

“Jess, I sure hope your grandma is a blood-thirsty ghost cause I can think of at least two people I’d serve to her on a silver platter.“ I snatch the keys the blond has been jingling nervously between her fingers and jog up the stairs to the front door.

Ok I maybe overexaggerated the eeriness of the house. It sure wouldn’t sit right with you if you saw it around sunset or at night, especially not if it’s foggy, but a horror movie house it is most certainly isn’t. It’s pristine and well kept, not a single crack in the walls, the only reason it’s unsettling is because: 1) We’ve all seen a few too many horror movies; 2) There’s been reports of ‘ghostly activity’ - as far as Jess is to be trusted.

While I’m surfing through all the keys, checking each and every single one of them on the door because the real key is unmarked, I can’t help but overhear the conversation going on behind me on the porch.

“Can you believe we got all this in a single day and for a discount on top of all?! Whoever says Craigslist sucks isn’t doing it right.“ Chris’ enthusiasm over the deal him and Josh got on the ghost hunting equipment has been what’s keeping a wide grin on his face this whole time. Though I’m proud of my boys for not getting murdered by the Craigslist seller, I must say I hate that I lost the bet we had - I had to pay them each ten bucks if they didn’t get scammed/kidnapped/murdered and I’m now twenty bucks poorer. I’m not saying I value those twenty bucks more than my friends, though my broke ass needs all the bucks it has and all the dollar bills it could get, but Lord knows I hate losing.

“Yeah, and the guy was only mildly sketchy.“ Josh adds just as excitedly and proudly, “To be honest, Cochise and I were probably the scary looking ones in that parking lot.“

A look over my shoulder shows the twins, Sam, Matt and Ash giving the duo skeptical and somewhat disappointing looks and shakes of their heads. I’ll admit, the equipment is in very good condition and it’s the complete set for ghost-hunting, according to BuzzFeed at least. I’m impressed with the purchase - probably had something to do with how scary Chris and Josh actually look. The all-nighters we’ve all been pulling lately have taken a toll on them worst with the dark circles and bags under their hollow eyes, pale faces and brains turned to mush. I know I’d give them a discount to avoid them pulling out meat cleavers on me.

“That’s all fine and dandy guys, but do you know how to work any of this?“ Sam asks, hesitantly lifting the EMF reader and turning it in her hand, analyzing it with a curious gaze.

Josh and Chris exchange a look before the former replies, “Just the cameras and voice recorder, the rest falls on them.” He points a finger at me and laughs, “Though they aren’t able to work something as simple as keys, they are more than qualified to be a ghostbuster.”

“You know, Josh, jokes on you, I can work keys! Jess, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be able to work well with organizing things, hence my problem with these keys.“ I hurl the bunch of keys connected my a scarlet keychain at Josh, “Lemme demonstrate my true skills.“ I hop down the flight of stone stairs and approach the pile of equipment the guys have created smack-dab in the middle of the house’s driveway.

“Oh, I gotta see this!” Mr. Ex-Class-President all but runs over, frowning when we all turn to look at him just as I pick up the spirit box to show off how it works, “Oh that’s what you meant. So you aren’t taking your clothes off?“

Jess and I are alike in one thing - the need we feel to chuck objects at people who piss us off. “You’re girlfriend is, like, right behind you, Munroe. Have some decency!”

“I was gonna enjoy a show as well, but I’m guessing we won’t be getting one.“ The girlfriend in question replies, looking at me quizzically as though that’s gonna convince me into discarding my outfit.

“No, unless you’re a ghost.“ I point the device I’m holding at Mike, “But if your boyfriend here keeps acting up I might turn him into one.“

“That sounds kinda kinky.“ Beth’s comment surprises me. The wink she sends me even more so. “And I kinda like it.“

Ok, ok, ok, hold on.

Flirting with Munroe is one thing, but Beth is a completely different story. I can be threatening Mike with a knife one moment and cracking sex jokes with him over cold beer the next. While Beth actually has the ability to get me flustered and blushing, and my close relationship with her brother doesn’t help. Mother fucker can just whack me upside the head every time he catches me fussing over my silly crush on his sister.

“Ew, you too! Keep it in your pants or at least get a room.“ Emily doesn’t miss a beat when it comes to being herself. She’s truly a garbage bin full of treasure.

“We’d do the latter if SOMEONE could get the door open.” I glare daggers at Josh who is making hopeless attempts at what I was doing earlier - unlocking that damn door.

“I’d be more than happy to come through for you ladies.“ Mike says, getting in a stance of a runner before a race, his body directly opposite the door.

Oh I can’t wait to see where this is going. I SHOULD RECORD IT.

“Mike, it’s still breaking and entering and it’s still against the law even if the person’s dead.“ Sam points out, entering her mother-like mode, ruining the fun and causing me to pout at her. She gives me a look of disappointment - one worse than I’ve ever seen on my parents - so I just shut my trap before she can also express said disappointment through words and have me feeling guilty for the rest of the day.

A loud crash suddenly echoes causing us to turn our heads to look for the source of the terrifyingly startling sound. One glance is all it takes to put our minds at ease and a second one is enough to provoke different reactions in all of us - the broken window telling the story of where Josh has disappeared.

“What did I just say about breaking and entering?!“ Sam shouts after him while the vast majority of us are cracking up like hyaenas. Jess is just gaping at the broken window next to the front door in disbelief. She obviously can’t decide whether to join in on the fun or serve as back-up to Sam. Josh did technically damage private property that’s partially hers, but if you ask me it serves her right for not marking her keys.

“Sorry, I was too busy breaking the window to hear that part of the conversation!“ Josh’s apologetic smile appears on the other side of glassless frame. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely sorry or holding back laughter but either way, he looks innocent enough for Sam to let him off the hook as long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble - in which case: tough luck. Chris, Josh and I are nothing if not troublemakers, especially when we’re together. Chris tones it down when Ash’s around, and the same goes for Josh with Sam while I’m simply problematic regardless of who’s watching. My chaos is untamable, it’s a blessing and a curse and I love it, even though it’s landed me in hot water more than once. It’s nice to be around people on the same wavelength - chaos resides within this group and not a single one of us can hide it.

“At least we have a way in now.“ Ash offers Josh a helping hand in this argument after she recovers from the overwhelming fit of laughter. “I hope the broken window doesn’t anger your gran, Jess.“

The blond snaps out of her trance briefly, “No, she was a very sweet lady, but damn is Josh creative!” She hurries to correct herself, “Destructively creative.”

I hurry to correct her once again, “Chaotically creative.”

“Guys, do you mind coming in? It’s very creepy standing here alone!“ Josh calls out to us, looking over his shoulder at the interior of the house, “I’m expecting to be snatched and dragged to that secret basement we mentioned.“

“Mention it one more time and I swear to God-!“ Jess screams, fists tightened.

Before her angry wrath could crash atop us, we all make our way into the house through the broken window, carefully avoiding the shards of glass strewn about. One step inside and we’re met with the upmost of horror clichés - a drop in temperature. We’re all wearing thick hoodies because the weather outside is chilly in and of itself, but said hoodies aren’t as efficient at holding the house’s cold at bay and away from out skin.

Chris and Matt make their way in last, carrying the equipment consisting of three cameras, flashlights for everyone, an EMF reader, a spirit voice box, a voice recorder and a motion detector. I help them hand a light to each group member as well as a ghost-hunting device before we venture onward.

“If I were your grandma’s ghost, I’d be ten times more pissed about that window. It looks to me like that lady payed a lot of attention to keeping things in order.“ Matt comments while he examines the expensive looking painting hanging in the hallway.

I hear Emily scoff, “Unlike some.” but the remark is said so quickly and quietly I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who heard it.

Jess laughs, “She did like things in order, but she was never as strict as you might think. As I said, she was very sweet.“

“So do you just not take after her at all or were you adopted?“ Emily’s remarks are no longer a mumbled jumble of words, “No, nevermind, of course you’re not adopted. Your parents are smart people, they wouldn’t have chosen you if they had the chance.“

Jess laughs again, much more menacingly this time, causing me to exchange a look with Hannah who’s walking beside me. “Twenty bucks says one of them isn’t making it out of here.” It’s just a matter of time, to be honest. If not the lodge, or any party we’ve ever attended as a group, this haunted house is the perfect opportunity for a murder. We could even argue it was a ghost.

Luckily, the two cats clawing at each other’s throats don’t overhear, “No, my parents aren’t stupid, but your boyfriend clearly is. He chooses to date you! Or are you holding him captive or something.“

Ok that’s enough. I can tolerate a lot of things, but people calling one of my best friends stupid is not something I’m about to put up with, “How dare you call one of my hoes stupid?” I sneer at Jess, eyes narrowing.

“I thought I was your hoe too!“ She fights back, looking almost offended.

“Even more reason you shouldn’t have called him that! I don’t tolerate my hoes not respecting each other.“

I don’t get to see where this argument goes because Ashley’s shriek echoes throughout the hallway, stealing mine as well as the attention of everyone else.

“There’s a ghost in here!“ Making it to the doorway of the room she’s in first, I peak my head inside and see the EMF reader she’s holding going nuts as if it’s detected something.

“Don’t worry, Ash, there’s a dead cactus here. That’s not the ghost we’re looking for, is it?“ Chris, my amazingly bright friend says, quirking an eyebrow suggesting that remark was nothing short of dead-ass serious.

“Chris, darling, that’s not how it works. Cactuses are plants.“ I point out as sweetly as I can as to mask my laughter.

“Don’t the same ghostly rules apply?“ The genuine look of confusion he gives me almost makes me lose it.

“Ok children, leave the room, we need to set up a motion detector to be sure.“ Beth says with a tone that suggests she’s more than over our insanity. Jeez, count on her and Sam to start parenting us through our chaos. They are of high authority, must admit - one genuinely feels bad if they don’t comply to whatever these two girls demand.

We all pile out in the hallway while the twins set up this interesting motion detector with green dots. I don’t know what Jess’ granny looked like, but I bet that even the most unattractive of people would look hella good with this lighting. Thankfully the room is dark enough with the shutters closed and the curtains drawn, allowing the dots to be perfectly visible.

We stare at the minimalistic room littered with fluorescent green dots on every surface for maybe a minute or two but not much happens to the disappointment to some and relief to others. However, as if not wanting to let us down, the ghost makes a shy appearance if the shift of the green dots is anything to go by.

“Oh shit, is that a ghost?“ Chris whispers, sounding as amazed as I feel in this moment.

“It better be.“ I mutter in response, refusing to blink and risk missing anything important.

The sudden presence of the obnoxious noise of the spirit voice box makes us all jump. As I turn my head to glare at whoever’s using it, Josh speaks up. “Are you an attractive ghost?”

“Josh, that’s my great-grandmother, you ass!“ Jess barks with disgust in her voice.

In the meantime, I catch glimpse of Mike rolling up his sleeves. Oh shit, this ain’t good.

“I’ve been waiting for this!“ He shouts victoriously, cracking his knuckles.

Knowing this won’t end well, the first thing I do is snatch the camera from Chris’ hands and turn it on.

“Um, Mike, what do you mean?“ Sam’s back to being concerned, turning to the rest of us when Mike doesn’t give her a response, “What’s he gonna do?“

“Fight it.“ I answer as though it’s the most normal thing to ever have been done, “Or, ash he calls it - kick some ghost ass.“

“A freaking ghost?! He’s gonna try to tussle with something he can’t see?“ I can’t tell if Matt’s tone is disbelief, amusement or disappointment, but I believe he isn’t about to try and stop or dear ex-president in his pursuit and that’s all that matters. I ain’t about to let someone stop whatever’s about to go down from going down.

“That’s still my great-grandmother, you dumbass!“ Jess shrieks with something alike terror.

“Don’t worry Jess, I’m sure she’ll go easy on him.“ I say in an attempt to reassure her but I can’t even be bothered really, I’m too laser-focused on the circus that’s about to take place in front of me.

Mike, as if encouraged by my words, charges into the room. Much to his dismay, before he could even reach the ghost, he’s met with a much more vigorous enemy - the carpet. The rascal trips him up and Mr. Munroe falls flat on his face.

The group stays silent, looking at the glorious aftermath of the glorious fall. Told ya these lights could make everything fabulous. Must say, it’s truly an honor for me to have been able to catch all that on tape.

“10/10, would ghost-hunt with Mikey Munroe again.“

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octalove · 4 years

Text

II: Blood and Ghosts

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader tries getting a clue. part one

“Typically, they steer clear of the Village, but that doesn’t appear to be the case as of recent. Oracle found out about an operation out of a Hadley’s Deli there- standard money laundering, but it also could’ve been linked to the shipment of cocaine that we found at the Yacht Basin.”

“Right. So what changed?”

“A better question would be what didn’t?”

A beat. The contrasting silence that followed jarred me from my thoughts as I glanced over and realized that Bruce was prompting me for an answer. Tim looked expectant and inquisitive, but that was sort of his default expression.

“Oh. Sorry. What?” I said apologetically.

“Maroni.” He said simply. Nothing came to mind. He didn’t express verbal disappointment as he turned back to Tim, but I knew it was there.

“Red Hood has been operating out of The Bowery. Maroni and Falcone are stubborn, but they’re losing. He’s pushing them north.”

“So moving to the Village isn’t expansion. It’s desperation.” Tim muttered thoughtfully.

“I believe so.”

“May I be excused?” I asked. Bruce glanced back to me, studying a moment. Scrutinizing every detail; not deciding whether or not to let me leave- rather, deciding why I wanted to. Then, he nodded. Seems he wasn’t in the mood to ask.

I swept up my laptop and phone, and ascended the stairs from the cave to the manor quickly, trying to escape the eyes boring into my back. Only when the cool, lemon-scented air of the manor filled my lungs did I breathe a sigh of relief. Alone. All I needed was few minutes alone. I scaled the marble steps to my room and shut the door.

I hadn’t told anyone that I saw him three nights ago. That I watched him murder a man in retribution for me. My alter ego, anyway. I don’t know why. Maybe because it would mean having to tell them I snuck away. Having to walk through every detail again; sights, sounds, smells. What Red Hood was wearing and what he sounded like, what gun he was holding and how he held it, what prompted him to fire, how many shots and how he acted when he did.

But if ever there was a time to be high-strung and anxious, it was when you were keeping secrets from Batman. And Oracle. And Nightwing. And Red Robin. And Robin. Damian in particular could smell a lie like blood in the water, and he wasn’t too polite to hold your gaze until he was certain you weren’t hiding anything. That, and the art of solidarity was still foreign to him- even if I did tell him in confidence, he would take it right to Bruce. Possibly the police. Maybe a news outlet or two just because it soothed his vindictive nature. I’d been avoiding him.

Evening bled into night, and I was barred from masked business on school nights, so I couldn’t even patrol to ease the anxious energy. Still, that meant less opportunity for Bruce to analyze my musculoskeletal ticks or whatever the hell he did to tell when I was nervous, so I decided it was a worthy trade-off and resigned myself to independent research.

Who the hell was Red Hood, anyway? Half of Gotham was looking for him, the other half was running from him. I opened my laptop.

His debut was The Viper House, a strip club in Little Italy that also functioned as a human trafficking hub when the owner, Renaldo, needed to buy his wife (or handful of mistresses) a new Blue Nile diamond. By the end, the building had to be gutted. There’s only so much crime scene clean-up can do with carpet.

Next came the kingpins. Blowing open a trafficking operation had a short grace period if you didn’t cut out the source. Italian mobsters, the Romani families, the crews that had built empires on drug and sex trade dropped like flies until they found that their numbers dwindled for the first time since Joker finally bit it. The dozens of loyal men on their payroll decided that empty pockets were better than a full grave, and when it came to the business of death, Red Hood was very persuasive. It went on like that for six months; he amassed men, power, weapons, and tech. Most importantly, a potent reputation. This was due in no small part to his creative footwork; he liked to send messages. One file covered an incident where Alphonso Kuznetsov decided to write Gotham’s new player an open letter in the evening column suggesting that if he decided to bring his business to Port Adams, he might find himself in a ‘watery grave’. Kuznetsov was found a week later when a fishing vessel drug an entire coffin from the bottom of the harbor, padlocked and full of water. He was bound, drowned, and gagged with a copy of the very paper that featured his message. Red Hood must have been in touch with his artistic sensibilities; it was all very Shakespearean.

Of course, these were all just words. Rumors and hearsay. All I knew of the Red Hood from my intimate encounter was that he had a quick hand, an incendiary temper, and he didn’t fucking like creeps. All the makings of vigilante, if you chose to see it like that.

I sighed. Two hours and none of my research gave me any indication of why me. Why the hell should Red 57-kill-count Hood care if some goon told me he like the way I looked in my suit? I may has well have been the veiled threats of Kuznetsov’s evening column for all my inconsequence to him.

But it all kept running through my mind. Backwards and forwards. The vitriol in his voice preluding the barbarity of his reprimand. The way he said little Batgirl, like the crime was that I’d been engaged at all. More than the memory, something was telling me to keep digging. Something dragging me back to Crime Alley with the current of the running blood through Little Italy’s gutters.

I had to do something. And if that something wasn’t going to Bruce, then school tomorrow would have to wait.

The morning went along as per usual. I woke up at six, dawned my Gotham Academy uniform, grabbed a muffin and coffee, completed a complicated and well-practiced secret handshake with Tim (that Dick was secretly jealous of), and was out the door at 6:30, keys jingling in Alfred’s hand.

He dropped me off outside the ornate gothic academy, and I waved goodbye as I skipped backward along the cobblestone walkway. Once his black Mercedes was a pinpoint on the horizon, I promptly turned heel from the front doors, heading East toward the Narrows. Catching the subway there would take me as far as the Knight’s Stadium, and from there it was a short distance to the Alley. I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in my academy uniform- anyone who gave a shit could pretty confidently deduce that school was in session at 8am on a Tuesday, and no student native to the Alley could afford a private education, so I was bound to draw eyes. I hadn’t packed an extra outfit incase Tim or Alfred got suspicious- that was paranoia puppeteering. I wasn’t used to skipping school. I’d have to make due.

Crime Alley in broad daylight was a brand new experience. At night, at least the smoke unfurling from the sewer grates hit the flickering streetlights and offered an unconventional charm. During the day, it was like shedding light on a foul sin. I was starkly out of place, and even the lapdog-sized rats seemed to know it, scurrying back across gritty concrete when I passed by. I looked for familiar things I’d seen the other night- a run-down apartment complex, a gated liquor shop, a meager but menacing corner-store, busy with glaring laymen reluctantly dragging out their wallets for a pack of cigarettes. I caught the eye of a woman sitting on the curb with a paper-bag bottle for company, and she scowled.

Spurned by the rats, and now by the people, I was running out of options. Sticking close to the buildings that perimetered the square, I moved in tandem with the motion of the locals, so as not to draw any eyes by looking lost. It was an unnerving scape; too quiet for my liking, but just empty enough to feel safely underseen. I made my way past familiar landmarks until I finally stood before the warehouse where I’d been.

I listened; no sound from inside. Even henchmen have day jobs. Jimmying the rusty padlock was just a matter of brandishing a bobby-pin from my hair, and the heavy metal door swung open without much resistance. I cautiously picked my way around crates and boxes, unsure of what I was looking for. Clues, maybe. Proof that he was here and dropped a body in my name, amen.

There was a dark, daunting stain on the floor where Hoffman’s body was. A phantom gunshot echoed in my ears, along with a nauseating sound of flat-back weight slapping concrete.

“Ain’t school in session?” I spun on my heel, meeting the red helm of a towering man draped in leather and armor. My mouth went dry. My right foot slipped back into a fighting stance before I remembered I was in cashmere and plaid, not kevlar. Not that I even stood a chance either way; but at least he seemed to harbor good will toward Batgirl. Wordlessly, I took a few steps back until I was standing over the blood and ghosts of Hoffman’s demise.

“P-please. Don’t- don’t hurt me.” I rasped.

I could play the rebellious, morose teenager and come up with something like it was a dare, or I could offer no explanation and simply cry.

Red Hood’s head tipped one way. His hands were empty- for now. Two heavy-looking glocks hung on his waist. I didn’t want to die on top of Hoffman’s blood stain. There was a level of symbolism there I was deeply unprepared to spend my final moments analyzing.

“Lookin’ for something, darlin’?” I swallowed- unable to say you.

“Wh-What do you want?” I asked.

He laughed, but it was humorless. Lacking whatever key component made laughs so appealing. As though the sound rung off the gravestones of uncanny valley before reaching my ears. “I think we’re both asking stupid questions.” He said. I was fucked. He outweighed me by a hundred pounds, and could out-draw me even if I had a weapon. I had no explanation for my being here that suited a civilian, and my phone was in my bag, meaning help was a world away.

But just as soon as he advanced a few paces, he stopped, and gestured to the crimson beneath my feet.

“Enjoy the show the other night?” He asked, before pulling something out of his jacket pocket and twirling it between his fingers with practiced ease. A batarang.

“You forgot somethin’.”

Cold, knife-like fear erupted in my spine, driven to the hilt. He knew. How did he know? What the hell was I supposed to do? My terror must have shown on my face, because he stopped fidgeting.

“It’s okay, babydoll. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“H-how-“

He moved again, slow, lazy strides until he was no more than an inch from me.

“Who are you?” I asked, figuring if I was gonna die, I should at least know that much.

His hands grabbed mine. The leather of his gloves was cool on my skin, but it barely registered for the closeness of him. I stared at the red bat symbol on his chest, jagged and angry looking. I blinked and looked down slowly as he closed my fingers around the cold metal of the batarang.

“Go home, little bird.” It was a cold, seething demand, his voice snagging on the scrambler to make it sound like a low growl.

“Tell Batman when he’s ready to stop sending his toy soldiers,” His hand went under my chin, tilting my head upward. My breath shook as I drew it, hitching, even though the man before me was faceless. Clean, red monochrome, glinting in the light.

“I’m getting impatient.” *

I walked through the manor door in a daze, the cold steel batarang searing my palm.

Bruce and Damian were in the living room, each invested in their own reading material. The grandfather clock ticked his steady tempo, and I inconspicuously adjusted the bag on my shoulder. Bruce had a steaming cup of coffee on the glass side table beside his leather chair.

“How was school?” He asked, not looking up. My paranoia convinced me it sounded rhetorical, but I shrugged anyway.

“Same old.” A glance, to see if my lie had landed.

Damian was the spitting image of his father. He, along with Tim, operated in the wake of being an only child, so he never did care about how I did in school, or much of anything else in my orbit. If at any point he did, he never thought to ask. Father and son looked like a matching set of dolls sitting there, cross-legged, with dark hair and gaunt eyes, both leanly muscular, and habitually poised; a consequence of being from the upper echelon of each of their respective backgrounds.

“Hey, um, are you going out tonight?” I asked.

“I am.”

“Can I come?”

“Are you certain you want to?” He still didn’t look up.

I blinked. “Um… yeah. Why?”

“You’ve been distracted since the last outing.”

Damian visibly tuned in.

“Oh. Sorry. I had a big paper I was worried about for school, but I turned it in today, so I’m good to go.” I threw him a thumbs up, even though he wasn’t looking.

A beat.

“Very well, then. Nine o’clock.”

I nodded, and headed toward the stairs.

“Y/N,” I stopped, and turned around. He was looking at me now, eyes blue and steady.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you did well?”

“…”

“On the paper.”

I threw him a smile. “The best.”

159 notes · View notes

saintheartwing · 3 years

Text

Breaking Dawn, Pt. 2: Rage of the Forgotten Ones

Author's Note:

Regrettably, this time, I'm not accepting OCs for the story. Though you may spy a cameo here and there for certain...persons. ;)

Anyhow, on with the tale! And feel free to tell me what you like and dislike about it. :D

BREAKING DAWN, PART TWO RAGE OF THE FORGOTTEN ONES

If you're reading this, then again...thanks. I'm glad somebody bothered to check out my blog. I'm surprised you're checking it now, though. Shouldn't you be more concerned with the fact that hundreds of planet Earths are floating around in the sky above, defying all physics? Even the average ignorant idiot can tell: something is seriously wrong.

And I know you want to know how this happened. Maybe you heard about me. Remembered I was the "crazy kid" for a long time, that I had all of these "insane" theories about aliens and the supernatural, and now that this is happening, well, you turn to me for answers. I've got answers, alright...I've got answers.

It all ties back...to him. To an alien named Zim.

His species is called the Irken race. They're like reptile-esque bugs. Their bodies are organic shells, their REAL selves are attached to their backs in robotic backpacks called "PAKS'. They're generally proud, vain, narcissistic, selfish, dangerous, in a word...evil. I knew from the moment Zim entered my classroom in his pathetic disguise that fooled everyone but me that he was bad news, I swore to expose him.

But something happened over the years. Zim and I began to...

Well...

...I can't call it friendship. I really can't. It's like...we were rivals. And we always wanted to stay that way. To outdo each other. It was a "same time next week" kind of deal we had: he'd try to make some world-enslaving or world-destroying plot...I'd stop him. It was a great game we played. And I think we began to develop...well...a kind of respect...a kind of trust. We kinda mellowed, in a sense. Heck, we even applied to the same colleges. I guess that my life fell into a rhythm I intended to ride for the rest of my life.

...but before all that happened, there was...a period that I think back on with shame. It was kind of like the turning point. When we looked back on what we did, something changed in us. I think we kinda were forced to change.

See...I wasn't the only one who knew Zim was an alien. My sister knew, but she didn't really care much. Zim had another Irken living at his home, named Skoodge, but Skoodge wasn't really too much of a threat. He wasn't actually too bad, as far as Irkens went. But I did tell my classmate Gretchen about Zim, and I think she wanted to believe me.

And then there was Nick.

Nice kid from down south. Slightly annoying accent. Little bit dumb. Okay, maybe more than a little bit.

But friendly. Helpful. And Zim had experimented on him before. Made him REAAAALLY happy with this strange device he stuck in his head. Twice. I asked him for help, knowing he knew the truth.

I TRIED to train him. I really did. I tried to help him get smart and savvy the way I was. We planned...we calculated...a few missions went by, we did well.

He wasn't my friend, but...but he was a good comrade. Yes...a comrade. And that day, on March 23rd, six years ago...Zim did the worst thing he'd ever done.

And he did it to Nick.

...I own that. Because he was my soldier. My comrade.

...my fault.

I don't know if he...remembers it all. I kept wondering "Was he afraid? Was he begging for me to save him in his head? Was he crying all the while as Zim..."

Now I know how he felt. I'm feeling that way too. Because someone showed up at our front door. They forced a very dangerous, very powerful ring on me. A ring that can turn the imagination into reality. Chosen for me because I can overcome great fear.

And yet...

All I want to do now...

Is SCREAM.

At first...it was a spiritual experience. Exhilarating. Almost transcendental. He felt invincible. He felt...like he could face anything. Anyone. Dib Membrane wasn't afraid of anything or anyone, and he knew, in that first few moments he KNEW he could have taken on the entire world and WON. For those first few moments...the ring upon his finger showed him a world just in front of his fingertips, a world of potential.

And then...then it was not HIS will that controlled the power. It felt like he was being tugged around by slimy strings, his flesh was not his own...he was lost in his own spirit...and he knew what was at fault.

"Get this thing OFF me!" Dib yelled out, yanking on the white ring on his finger as best he could, gasping as the Irken with the golden eyes looked on in pitiless amusement. Two sets of antennae, one teal, one black slightly raised in amusement with gloved hands and a blue vest across his chest, with dark blue pants and boots of black...black to match the gloves...black to match his heart. "GET IT OFF!"

"It's no use." The Irken with the golden eyes said, waving his hand in the air. "I was the first one to touch the Exemplar Ring you wear on your hand. It might be powered by your Will, it might think you're using it, but really...it's MY will that matters now. It might as well be on my hand. And you're going to do everything I tell you to do. You won't have a choice." The Irken said.

Dib's sister bellowed angrily, punching the ground below and seething, frothing at the mouth. Unlike Dib, who was dressed in a fine outfit of black and green, she was all red and black, with a form that looked vaguely machine-like in its design, a fury dripping off her facial features as the Irken snapped his fingers and she panted slightly, slowly calming down.

"You...fix us...NOW." Dib snarled angrily, summoning up all his willpower, leveling the ring on his finger squarely at the Irken. "You FREAK."

"The NAME...is Zerinim Two Jookiba." The Irken with two sets of antenneas said, putting one gloved hand on his chest before growling fervently, a burning red fiery blaze of energy forming in his hands, sizzling like he was holding a miniature sun in his palms. "But don't call me "Two" like my closest loved ones do. Call me...MASTER."

He immediately launched the wave of energy squarely at Dib and Gaz, knocking them to the ground, Gaz taking a blow to the head, unconsciousness settling in as Dib felt the thing's grip on him relaxing, and now the many sledgehammers he kept imagining should be beating into this thing actually manifested in a bright green glow, energy constructs that struck at Two over and over as Dib kept the manifestation up, intent on one thing and one thing alone...

MAKING...HIM...PAY.

"I'm gonna make you sorry you ever came to my planet!" Dib yelled out, stepping closer and closer to Two as the Irken held his gloved hands forth, a sonic blast of red construct energy knocking Dib back as Two snapped his fingers, a surge of power rising from his form as a bow popped into his gloved hands. Dib jumped back up, quickly firing off blasts of energy from his ring like a cowboy desperately firing his pistols at an oncoming posse, but Two calmly stood still, the blasts missing him as he notched an arrow of burning red.

It launched through the air, impaling Dib through his left side and he screeched in pain, falling to the ground as his grip on his body faded, and he swam in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay awake, Two chuckling coldly as he approached the human and his sister.

"Ahhhhh, I NEEDED that. I'm in a such good mood right now...now you go home and power down and get some rest. Dream peacefully...it'll be the last happy sleep you ever have, I'm afraid." The Irken said, kneeling by Dib and lifting his head with one claw. It wasn't a mocking tone...it just said it. A statement of fact. Nothing personal. "You've got a busy day tomorrow, after all." He added with a slight smile, clapping his hands as Dib and Gaz found themselves returning to their normal clothes, getting back up and returning inside the house of their own accord, the will of their master, the being named Two, echoing in their minds...

Mercifully, Dib could feel his wounds healing. But this was cold comfort. All Dib could think about...was what this thing was going to do the world he loved.

...

...as Dib rested in his bed, snuggling up beneath the covers, shivering slightly, he grit his teeth and grounded them together. He was mad. He was furious. He couldn't even fall asleep without feeling like that...that thingwith the double set of antennas was watching him. It had loosed it's control over them...just barely. It was allowing them to rest, but that was cold comfort considering Dib knew the thing would be up to no good.

What would it do to his world? What would it make himdo to his world? What would it make him do to the people he loved?

Simply trying to imagine talking to his father or anybody else about what had happened was giving him a headache...no doubt another part of that being, "Two", inflicting his will on him. What would happen if he actually tried to tell his father what had occurred, get him to simply analyze the ring that he was unable to take off? Would it be some "Battle Royale" kind of deal? Would a collar manifest around his neck and take his head off?

Gaz. What was Gaz thinking, Dib wondered as his eyelids slowly beginning to drop, genuine sleep mercifully setting in. Was she scared? Was she indignant about being used? Or was she just...angry?

Well, as it turned out, Gaz was none of those things. She had long since fallen deep asleep to dream of a world that shaped and shifted by her will, brought to life by a giant red pen, floating upon a rubber piggy and laughed giddily at the new world she was making. She liked seeing things in red...yes, yes, she wanted to paint everything in red...

She knew this power would help her do it. She was aware it was bringing out her most violent desires and attitudes. But she knew she could channel it. She just had to wait for her chance.

She could take control of this. She could prove stronger than the thing on her finger.

"That idiot thinks he has me. But I've beaten worse things before." Her dream-self said as she raised a chainsaw high, cutting through a swath of imaginary Twos. "AND YOU'LL FALL, JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!"

...

..."Oh great. Two is here. Help me put my clothes back on."

"Why did you ask me to bring HER along? I could understand Lilo, but…"

"I want her to understand what we're…willing to do to break her. Lilo, do you know HOW the Minor Arcana was formed? How the…application process is undertaken?"

"..."

"Well, in exchange for very, VERY large amounts of power and the ability to remain eternally young…you've got to kill family. Close family. One member, to be precise."

"Samael approached me and told me that if I wanted into the Minor Arcana…if I wanted the ability to be immune to control and to control reality, I'd have to kill a family member."

"No, please tell me you didn't…didn't kill them…Kila, Zim, you…you didn't?"

"No, of course I couldn't, I…I love my parents. I…I chose Green, my sister from the past."

"If Kila and Zim ARE your parents, the ones I know so well, then they would have been horrified at the idea of you working for the person who made them suffer so much! They wouldn't have raised you to be so cruel!"

"They didn't raise me to be cruel, but we never could stay in one place long…do you know how some kids move around city after city, state after state, never really making friends, or worse, constantly leaving the friends they DO have? For me…it was TEN TIMES WORSE. I had to move from world to world and whenever we got REMOTELY settled into the hotel or other temporarily dwelling, we had to leave! Working for Samael meant he wouldn't hunt my parents anymore and…It's not like I know Green. She's my sister and I understand mentally that the whole thing is…sad."

"..."

"I OUGHT to know her. I should have spent my childhood with my big sister being there, we should have blown stuff up in the backyard together or played gorka-ball or "Toss the GIR"…we should have been siblings but…but we weren't. Aren't. It IS sad, but…I just don't really know her, and so I don't have many qualms about killing her, though MIYU had NO qualms in killing MALIK! And to get to her mother, she killed her dad too!"

"Azazel has yet to kill Nick, his dear, beloved Grandfather. So perhaps he'll kill his originator instead, he was so close to Nick, In his reality, his "Pee-Paw" was so PROUD of him…he even gave him his-"

"..."

"As for Frequency, lobotomizing Sari, whom he cared for greatly, was his act. Samael was happy to allow him to do the act, it allowed Miyu to replace Sari, who had refused to kill her parents and had taken Samael's gift of immortality. Such a pity…she would have gained Miyu's incomparable battle skills but instead she lost most of her brain."

"And now let us come to the point. You are not going to be rescued. You are going to be tortured here by us, one at a time, and when TWO finishes with you, I…will begin."

"Question: Who shall start?"

"I'll be the first...my power will be good for torturing you-"

With that, Dib awoke from the strange dream. It had felt real. FAR too real. And that person...Two. It had definitely been him. What was going on? Were Two's memories of the past somehow crisscrossing with his slave's head? Possible, he supposed. The Irken could control him from his head, but that meant his mind was open, at least when asleep, to Dib's own...

How strange...

"How odd..." Dib mumbled as he scratched his head, sweeping his legs out of his bed and onto the floor as he made his way to his bureau to get his usual attire out. Dark jacket? Check. Blue t-shirt with a "Meh" face on it? Check. Dark pants? Also check. Glasses...shoes...belt for said pants...check, check, check-

"...is the ring still on my finger?" Dib mumbled, looking down at his hand.

Check.

"...crap." He muttered. "You JERK." He growled, turning his head to look out the window at a cheerily grinning Two, who pushed the window open, letting in the sunshine to the dark blue walls of Dib's cluttered-up bedroom.

"Nice place, it really is...except for the smell." Two admitted as he looked around the bedroom. Indeed, over the years Dib had gotten slightly more advanced equipment from his father for birthday presents...yes, Birthday. Dib's father refused to celebrate Christmas due to his undying hatred of Santa Claus, so he always wasted that day searching for signs of Santa. And beating up Santa's Helpers in the street.

Yeah, it was weird.

A sophisticated computer system on a desk with what appeared to be three dozen drawers, many of them stuffed full of papers on Bigfeet, ghosts and aliens...a pile of laundry in the corner, all dark clothes, blue t-shirts...and several dozen paranormal posters littered the walls, including one of a flying saucer. And not just ANY flying saucer. "Is that from the X-Files series?" Two found himself asking, an intrigued expression coming to his features.

"Yes, the original one. I got it off of Ebay. Cost me two month's allowance too." Dib added, not taking his eyes off the alien scumbag. He wanted to jump through the air and do a karate kick to his head, hey, years of fighting with Zim meant he'd picked up a couple of tricks. But no, no, it was like he was rooted to the spot, and he knew EXACTLY why.

He tried to yank the ring off anew...hopeless. Two chuckled slightly as he snapped his fingers. "I used to watch the show when I was younger. Ahhhh, memories. Moving from dimension to dimension it's still nice to see that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Wait until I tell you about the second movie."

"Second movie?" Dib remarked, blinking stupidly.

"Oh, right, you don't know. Guess this world will never see it once I'm...well..." He chuckled coldly. "Once WE'RE finished. Go on, my little puppet. Eat breakfast. Say goodbye to your father with your sister. Then we begin, and I think I'll start by doing you a favor, and doing what all children dream of doing at one point or another...burning down your school."

"Why would you want to do that?" Dib growled angrily, fingers clenching almost like claws, eyes alit with fury. "What could you POSSIBLY gain from-"

"Do I look like a Bond Villain, my boy? I'm not TELLING you." The Irken chuckled. "But I'm in a good mood, so being the nice person I am, here's the deal. You get until Lunch Period's over. Then I'll take full control...and have you and your sister burn down the school and everyone and everything in it."

The Irken was suddenly up in Dib's face, smiling coldly, one hand gripping his chin, the other tapping Dib's ring. "You have until then to convince the others to get out, and don't bother trying to use your ring to convince them, I'll put it under a lock that won't open until it is finally time to BURN, baby, BURN." The Irken laughed. "Hey, you've been failing to get your classmates to listen for years. Maybe today's the day they'll finally listen!"

"You don't have to do this." Dib said, trying another tack, remembering the dream. Normally he wouldn't EVER negotiate with an alien, not even try, but...this was different. "You don't need to hurt anyone."

"But I do." Two whispered, raising his gloved claws up and clenching them. "...I DO."

Letting off cold-hearted laughter, the Irken jumped back out of the window, strolling off. Dib cursed under his breath. This was one of the few times an alien was out in the open! NO disguise! Why, WHY was nobody outside? Or LOOKING outside? What had their attention? Were they all still ASLEEP?

"So then he shot her, it was weird." The newest arrival on the "Okrah" show said to the titular host, Gaz munching on some cereal as the tall and weirdly surreal Prof. Membrane adjusted the goggles over his eyes, looking at the screen.

"This PULP is what the people are interested in?" He inquired.

"Yeeeeep." Gaz said nonchalantly through a mouthful of "Choco Frosted Sugar Bombs".

"And it's on every morning from 8 to 9? Without fail?"

"Yeeeeeeeeep."

"...what next, dancing panda bears?" Prof. Membrane mused sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he poured himself some coffee. He was getting better at this, he TRIED to be there during the day for breakfast if nothing else. And to think, it only took him a little over 10 years to actually start being somewhat of a good father figure.

"Mornin', Dad." Dib said, entering the kitchen and going to the fridge before shrinking away. Every time he tried to open the fridge, weird things happened. Last time he was SURE he'd heard a sneeze, and the mayonnaise had started yelling "The ketchup did it! The ketchup!" And ANOTHER time his father had left an experiment in there. Something had been living in the fridge.

"...is...the thing still in there?" Dib asked Prof. Membrane, inching away from the fridge and reaching for the knife drawer by the sink, pulling out a large carving knife as Gaz watched with interest.

"No, I'm fairly certain I moved him to the freezer." Prof. Membrane said, shaking his head back and forth. Smiling in relief, Dib wiped his brow and opened up the fridge...and was then forced to hack back several dozen tentacles before slamming the fridge shut. "Or maybe I forgot. Who keeps track?" Prof. Membrane added a moment later, putting a gloved finger to where his lip might have been...it was hard to tell, the white labcoat that he wore had a loooong collar that reached up high. You couldn't even see his nose!

"I'll just make some toast."

"SUPER-Toast?" Prof. Membrane asked expectantly.

"...er, I was thinking cinna-" Dib began to say, before he saw his father's slowly drooping expression. "SUPER-Cinnamon Toast." He quickly changed his mind, nodding enthusiastically.

"EXCELLENT choice, my son!" Prof. Membrane agreed, clapping Dib on the shoulder and moving to the cupboard to get the cinnamon sugar for his boy. "I can only spare 110 more seconds but I'd be HAPPY to get your cinnamon toast started!"

"...thanks, Dad." Dib said quietly. "I...I really appreciate it. And...appreciate you." He murmured.

"What will that thing make me do to the ones I love?"He thought sadly to himself, sitting in the chair next to Gaz as she quietly looked over at him, a faint flicker of genuine regret passing over her face for an instant.

...

...the Beautiful Angel clutched his mother's paw, looking down at her closed eyes. She looked so...worn and tired. So sad...so lost...so forgotten. She was a sad little doll that had been tossed into a closet to be forgotten about. She lay there in the ornately-draped bed inside of the crystalline palace that hovered high above the clouds, hidden from all sight not by ignorance on behalf of humanity, but by carefully-constructed machinations, creations of Zerinim Two, and of the robot that calmly watched, her face solemn before she turned her red-helmed head away from the sight of her beloved kneeling by his dying mother.

"C'mon...just a few more days, momma." He whispered, his golden/amber eyes gazing down upon his beloved mother. "...just a few more days and maybe we can end all of this...get our world back...and bring all of us back to normal."

"Is she...any better? Any worse?"

The Angel looked up. Zerinim Two's face was normally a window...behind his eyes you could tell he was barely suppressing a furious rage within. Now that window was cracked, but not showing rage...but deep, deep concern and sadness...

Personal loss...one of the greatest causes of rage in the world.

"No. And...and I've been talking with her and...she kept asking about the plan." The Angel went on, sighing as he stood up, brushing his thick slightly-light-brown locks of hair back. "You know that this base Earth is very...unstable. It's got the seeds of potential for all the other stories, but if this plan works, I'm worried what'll happen to the other-"

"Who GIVES a rat's ass?" Two snapped angrily, cutting his hand in the air to shut him up. "Azzy, these people are awful. AW-FUL. I might have been petty and selfish but when it came down to it, I ALWAYS put doing what was right for the ones I loved and for the world I loved at the forefront! Do you think ANY of the so-called "cornerstones" of this Base Earth would?"

"...I don't know." The Beautiful Angel admitted softly, honestly. "...I'd like to believe that some of them would."

"I'm sorry that "some of them" isn't enough." Two spoke quietly, folding his arms. "You know...I saw into Dib's mind when I controlled him. He has a family. He has a father. He has a sister. And his life's been slowly getting better for the past five years. Zim getting more considerate, Gaz becoming more tolerant, his father's actually eating BREAKFAST with them!"

That made the woman in the bed chuckle slightly. "Brekkie? N-no kiddin'? Ame kef, never thought he'd actually..." Her chuckling dissolved into pained coughs as she held her paw over her mouth and Two gently patted her forehead. "I'm...sorry I'm so friggin' useless now."

"It'll be alright, maneem." Two whimpered, kneeling by his mother and kissing her paw as a blue-furred being entered, Two rubbing his eyes as he left the room. The blue-furred being took off his cap, letting his hair fall down as he nervously chewed his lip, gazing at his aunt.

"...are we really gonna go through with this? I want the world back but..." He sighed. "...what he's making Dib do isn't...it isn't right."

"I want you to have this." The Beautiful Angel said, giving the blue-furred bounty hunter a pad of paper he had in a pack slung around his shoulder. "It's notes that mother took. I've read it five dozen times..." He trailed off, taking his mother's paw again.

The blue-furred being chewed his lip again, walking out of the room as he went to stand on a balcony, reading the journal as the robot stepped out on the balcony to join him.

"I shall be meeting with MY personal inductees today." She said in her emotionless tone, holding up the rings she would be using. "They shall join my Corps and I will then bring the two up here so that they may understand why we do what we do. I think he would go along with it anyway...a chance to destroy this world? Have "fun"? How could he say "no"?"

"Will you bother to tell him that once enough of this world's been destroyed by the Cornerstones, he'll get folded into the historical fabric?" The bounty hunter wanted to know.

"That's on a "need-to-know" basis." The robot said, a flicker of amusement passing over her metallic features as she sauntered back into the crystalline palace, leaving the bounty hunter alone on the balcony as he reached into his pocket, pulling out two small rings of his own. One was shining slightly, a chosen partner found, but the other...it's light was dull.

"...why isn't it lit up? What's it missing? WHO is it missing? I might have been the first to get ahold of these, but...can't do this alone..." He murmured, putting them back in his pocket, his paw going over the journal to his side, over an entry stained by teardrops.

...

...Dib nervously gripped his pants pockets as he looked out the window of the bus, sitting in the back with Gaz as she looked over at him. "Any ideas?" She asked sarcastically.

"...I thought about offering twenty bucks to everyone to leave school right after lunch...but my allowance isn't THAT high." Dib admitted, pulling out his wallet and opening it, a tiny moth fluttering out as Gaz rolled her eyes.

"And just TELLING them the truth won't help either, will it?" She asked. "They'd never believe you. Well, they might if you tried to use that thing in front of them, but-"

"It's not working." Dib mumbled, shaking his fist angrily, the ring uselessly dull. "I'm trying and trying...but he meant it...he shut it off. And after lunch, it turns on...and I turn into a living weapon. He'll drive me like I'm a BATTLEBOT."

Gaz looked around the bus, eyes narrowing darkly. "...Dib...what's wrong with this picture?" She asked quietly, dangerously.

Dib looked up from his lap, glancing around.

"Notice anything...missing?"

Suddenly it hit him. Zim. Skoodge. Gretchen. Nick. All four of them were gone. How strange...how very, very strange...

The bus came to a stop as everyone headed into the school, their new guidance counselor greeting the children at the door. He saw Dib's clearly sullen expression and his gentle green eyes softened. A hand reached out, placed squarely on Dib's right shoulder. "Dib, is something the matter?" Mr. Thildari inquired, one eyebrow raised high over a head with perfectly-combed grey hair.

"...nothing you could help with, sir." Dib told him as Gaz headed inside. "You've been more help than the last guidance counselor I had, but...you can't help me with this."

"Aww, why not try me?" Mr. Thildari asked, moving Dib inside and sitting him down at a bench by a water fountain. "First period bell doesn't ring for a whole seven..." He checked his watch. "...six whole minutes!"

"...I need to get everyone out of the school before lunch. And I mean EVERYONE. Even that creepy janitor." Dib told the guidance counselor, leaning back in the chair, Two's smirk lingering in his mind. "Or else something terrible is going to happen."

"Dib, did a friend of yours say they're going to blow up the school?" The guidance counselor wanted to know, his darkened skin paling slightly.

Dib's eyes went wide.

There it was...

...hope. Why hadn't he seen it before? It was such a simple solution.

"Yes, yes." Dib said fervently. "...except he's not really a friend, he...he said he was going to blow the whole school sky-high after lunch period, Mr. Thildari." Dib informed the guidance counselor, shaking him by his shoulders, back and forth, back and forth.

The guidance counselor looked deep into Dib's eyes, mouth becoming a taut line as if "reading" him. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before closing his green eyes and letting out a soft, long sigh. "I believe you." He told Dib. "I'll inform the principal and vice principal about this, and I'll have everyone escorted out of the building until the police can search the grounds."

Dib inwardly cheered for joy as Mr. Thildari stood up and headed for the staff wing, punching the air as he headed off to class. He won. He'd WON.

Or at least...so he thought.

"I should have KNOWN you'd cheat." Two muttered furiously, sitting in a tree outside of school, his fists clenching tightly as red energy swirled off his body like sparks off a fire as his own ring swirled around him like a tiny fly, buzzing, buzzing.

"Calling in help like that, you great big cheater...well, you're about to find out that I'm just as petty and immature as you, Dib Membrane..." The Irken chuckled darkly. "I suppose the saying's true. If you want something done right..."

He hopped down from the tree, making his way towards the school as red energy seeped off his body, his footprints leaving behind burning indents within the ground as he chuckled coldly.

"You have to do it yourself."

#invader zim #zim #superhero #superheroes #Dib #Gaz #Two #Zerinim #action #adventure #fanfic #fanfiction

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Swallow (Jason Todd x Reader)

✾ A/N: Hope you like it, hon!

✾ @thatgaypostsworld 's request: Do you think you could do Jason Todd from Titans x trans male, he's Hanks younger brother. They meet in Gotham and work together kinda like how Dick worked with Hawk and Dove and start dating then he Joins Titans to be closer to Jason and finds out that Hank knows Jason and can there be lots of fluff and protective older brother stuff from Dick and Hank cause Dick would have known him since he was like five. And Gar and Dawn being all for reader and Jason. xD

✾ Warning: request slightly edited from OC x Jason to Reader x Jason.

ONE YEAR AGO

GOTHAM CITY

‘'It’s over, bird boy.’’ The blue-eyed woman smirked at Jason as she pressed the barrel of the gun against his neck. Suddenly, the idea of going after a drug dealer alone to impress Batman didn't seem like the smartest thing to be done. ‘’Batman probably won't miss his dumb pet. ’’

‘’You talk too much.’’ An unknown voice was added to the conversation, followed by the typical noise of a punch. Just like that, Todd was no longer between life and death, and his main target laid unconscious on the floor among his passed out henchmen. ‘’Come on, villains. Don't you know that monologuing only gives pretext for someone to come along and save the victim?’’

‘’What did you just call me?’’ The new Robin finally turned around to face his unfortunate savior. He was also dressed in a superhero costume, although Jason couldn't quite put his tongue on the name. The outfit was, in his opinion, ridiculous. Mostly blue, but with a white front and an orange mask. At least his body looked pretty hot in that. ‘’I'm not a fucking victim, bro. Who do you think that beat the fuck out of her crowd?’’

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. Batman's new apprentice was really petulant. If Hank was there, he would probably say it was a prerequisite for being a Robin. ‘’You, me, and your ego are on the same side. By the way, I am Swallow.’’

‘’Do you suck too?’’ Jason answered in irony, already picking up his customized batarangs that had been thrown in battle.

‘’Very funny. Swallow as in for the bird, Robin. Just like you.’’

CURRENT TIME

SAN FRANCISCO

When Bruce and Dick decided it would be good for Jason to spend some time away from Gotham, it didn't occur to Jason how frustrating that could be. After all, why would he even consider that idea? Todd would stay with the Titans for a few weeks and come home as fast as possible.

‘’It’s boring as fuck. I wish you were here.’’

However, now, after two months in that tower, with Dick treating him like a child and away from home, Jason had to admit that he didn't imagine this scenario. Everything was boring compared to Gotham. He didn't go out to fight crime with anyone. In his city, every night had someone to be saved, either with Batman or (Y/N).

(Y/N) had become Todd's confidant out of necessity. Although his first mission to conquer Bruce's respect had gone wrong, Jason wouldn't stop trying. He was valuable and could be as good as Dick Grayson once was. Bruce didn't have to protect him or anything, and he would prove that.

It worked a few times, mostly with help. Jay was still inexperienced, a Robin barely for months back then. (Y/N), on the other hand, had been Swallow for years. Robin certainly didn't call him, but somehow they always ran into each other during Gotham's night routine. After a few cases together and some make-out sessions in places extremely inappropriate for any civilian, they decided to try for real. A committed relationship, Jason's first.

Video calls happened, of course, just like the one occurring in that instant. But it wasn't quite the same, at all.

‘’Me too, babe. Don’t worry, we will see each other soon. I need to go now, just arrived at the supermarket,” you said, waving your empty hand at him through the phone as your face disappeared on the screen. It was replaced by your call duration time. You smiled at the street you were on. Jason surely would love your surprise.

Todd grabbed whatever comic book he had left around the room to distract his mind. He missed his boyfriend and the excitement of his hometown. And even though he invited you a million times to become an honorary Titan, the answer was still a no. If Jason had to bet, and he was good at it, he would say that you were afraid of history repeating itself among your brother's old team, even though he had stated that Hank was not there and had never visited since they arrived at the tower.

A subtle knock met the door of Robin's room, soon followed by Gar's voice. ‘’Jason, you have a visitor.’’

He tossed the graphic novel in his hands towards the chair across the room, smiling victoriously when he hit his target before getting up and leaving the room. It must be Bruce, finally showing up to get him.

‘’About time, Bru—(Y/N)?’’ You weren’t the person he was missing that appeared in the Titans' living room, but you were still a wonderful surprise. Jason marveled at you, his heart pounding happily. ‘’What are you doing here?’’

‘’I missed you and decided to accept your invitation.’’ Your words didn't obtain any reaction from Robin. He remained there, astonished. ‘’I could always go back...’’ (Y/N) teased, the side of your mouth curved into a playful smile.

‘’Don't even fucking joke about it, baby.’’

Jason approached you, pressing his lips against yours in a needy kiss, which screamed how felt your absence had been.

‘’What the fuck is this?’’ Hank's voice surprised the two young men, causing you both to separate immediately. Gar - who had gone to the training room after calling Jason - arrived in the place with Dick. ‘’What the hell is Jason doing to my little brother, Grayson?’’

‘’I don't know,” the rising leader responded, frowning as he mentally analyzed the scene. Jason didn't have enough stability to fight in a team yet-- a romantic relationship should be his last concern. Dick himself knew how it could affect teamwork, but then, he wasn't one hundred percent ready to lead the Titans yet and had started a complicated situation with Kori months ago. Therefore, Grayson was not the best to offer advice in that department. Pursing his lips, Dick added, ‘’Anyway, I'm glad you two came back.’’

While Jason's older brother had decided to ignore the surprise in his living room to address more urgent matters, yours didn't follow the same line of thought.

‘’We came here to help you and found the new problematic Robin sticking his tongue in my little brother's throat. What the fuck, Grayson? Since when (Y/N) is with the Titans? You want to fuck up their lives with my brother's life like you did to ours?’’

Dawn placed her hand against Hank's chest in an attempt to convey some serenity to him and prevent the male from attacking Dick in a fit of rage. She smiled sweetly at the couple – Jason’s arm around your figure as the old Titans argued.

‘’He didn't know I was here, Hank. I just arrived. I wanted to see Jason.’’ You shrugged. There was no real concern for the eldest Hall's reaction. You knew your brother. He had an explosive and exaggerated tendency for being. Especially after you came out as a trans guy, which increased his protective behavior. ‘’I have known Jason since the gap year in Gotham. We are dating.'’

Hank opened his mouth and everyone in the room waited for another round of swearing, most likely to be directed at Dick and Jason, when Gar's voice interrupted, ‘‘Can someone handle Jason willingly?'’

You chuckled when Jason showed his middle finger to his teammate. It caused tiny, relieved smiles from the present adults. Dick and Hank exchanged a suggestive glance. It was the same they gave each other when a difficult mission had worked out after a few mistakes, but they were too exhausted to argue at the moment. A truce, it meant. For now.

‘’Well, I'm happy for you two. Talk to me if you need tips on how to deal with a hot-tempered Hall.’’ Dove joined the joke, eliciting more laughter and a betrayed glare from Hank, who dramatically moved away from his girlfriend.

Jason grimaced when being compared to Hank, and you placed your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. His brother tried to convince Dawn that his anger was directed to who he deserved it, which didn't make him hot-tempered. Dick stood with crossed arms, a simple smile on his face as he surveyed the room. Gar was laughing still, his old friends disagreeing in a relaxed way, and Jason was pouting, being treated by his boyfriend with quick pecks on the cheek that made him smile like a happy child.

That reunion was better than he had anticipated.

213 notes · View notes

glossyeon · 3 years

Text

natm || pt. 2 || osh

*All credit goes to the creators of these images*

~𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮…~

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Museum Curator!Sehun x Sculpture!Reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: sexual content, oral m recieving, fingering, Sad scenes, Reader is a sculpture?, Swearing, Lot’s of grammar mistakes, heartbreaking and heartwarming scenes ahead…

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2.3k

𝘼/𝙉:This has been a series that I’ve been dying to do for a very long time! I think Museum Curator!Sehun is such an uncommon paring that we need more of these days. Also inspired by Night at the Museum Movie Series... Enjoy!

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘖𝘩 𝘚𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 12...

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the early hours of the morning when Oh Sehun was only done a quarter of his assigned research. Despite his former role as head curator at the International Art Museum in New York - a highly respected position, Sehun had succumbed to doing the dirty work for the head director Johnny Suh. The reason? To secure his job and title.

While in New York, Sehun was fired due to circumstances that remain only between him and director Suh. Even if he did have a unique eye for art and historical artifacts, that didn’t matter to the higher ups in the field if he lied. Thus, assigning pages of research and tasks for the next year was deemed a reasonable punishment in the eyes of the department.

Sehun’s eyes are sore and tired from the countless words he’s read. His wrist aches from the pages he’s recorded, and all he wants is to quickly go home to the comfort of his cat and couch. groaning at the papers and books sprawled out in front of him, sehun covers his face with his book, eyes closing in frustration. “8 more months... just 8 more months” he assuringly murmurs to himself.

he may be tired but he doesn’t fail to notice the white cloth that drags behind a figure. wondering if he’s seeing things, he forces himself to waken up and lift the edges of the book that blocks the full view. that let’s him get a glimpse of your shadowy figure that’s swiftly prancing through the shelves of books. Your white dress dances behind you, matching the movements of your long curls, and he swears he’s seen you before.

“One of the actors that dresses up for the kids exhibit?” - It doesn’t make sense since it’s far too late for them to be getting off work. “A part timer?” There weren’t any newbies that he remembered to resemble your appearance.

Carefully controlling your movements and sounds, you successfully make it a few feet away from the door, unbeknownst that Sehun’s eyes were glued to you. He knows that no one would enter the library and leave without a book or record in their hands. You simply held the fabrics of your dress, clutching tightly with all your might.

“You’re forgetting something aren’t you?”

You held your breath, hands stopping just at the handles of the wooden doors.

“Shit”

The sounds of a chair being pushed back and precise footsteps followed in your direction. “You seem to have left what you were looking for haven’t you? He studied the back of your outfit and perked his brow in suspicion. “Which department are you from? Archiving? Communications?” Your silence confirmed the curator that you could be a museum thief or a spy for another museum. “Who are you?” he asked, getting ready to spin you around and reveal your identity. But before he could do anything else, you did what you thought was best.

Flee.

Sehun chased after you, determined to find your true identity. Pushing the heavy and old iron doors of the library you ran as fast as you could, away from the strange man. Still clutching your dress with fear, you ran under the hanging war planes displayed above the main entrance. Usually you would have stopped to admire the grand aircrafts like every other night, but tonight you were running too fast to stop. Your pace quickened after hearing the fast approaching steps of Sehun, indicating he was right on your tail

Arriving to the main hallway of the museum, it was bustling with the many relics and artifacts that had come to life. From prominent war generals perched on their horses to the famous yet very dead British royalty that filled the room. Obviously wax figures of the originals.

Scanning for someone to let them know about the witness, a hand suddenly grasps your own, spinning you around to stare at them. Panting and out of breath, Sehun smirks at your surprised reaction. “You didn’t answer my question”

aggressively trying to free from his strong grasp, you pleaded desperately. “Please.. let me go...” his expression softened and he released some of the pressure. Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest and whispers in your ear. The distance made you blush with embarrassment and try to move away but he didn’t let go this time either. “There will be consequences to your actions.” he threatened. “The museum security and police department will take action if you don’t say who-”

Sehun’s words faltered, entranced with the view behind you. People, objects, and animals of all historical time periods were together. William Shakespeare was talking to Muhammad Ali, while a massive Jeff Koons ballon dog was prancing amongst cavemen singing the new Katy Perry song.

It was a sight that made Sehun astonished enough to loosen the grip on your wrist completely. Seeing this as your chance for escape, and revenge, you slapped Sehun right on the cheek. The impact of the slap left a visible red mark on his skin, along with an echoing sound that brought attention to the scene unfolding.

You scoffed at the disbelief evident in his face, and turned around swiftly, your long hair grazing his face. You made your way to HyunA and Lisa who sat by the water fountain, stopping in the midst of their conversation to what the commotion was. Instead of you, Sehun was more-so worried about the sharp swords that were now being held against him.

At the words of war general E. Dawn - who happened to be in the room, British soldiers held their weapons against Sehun and slowly cornered him to a wall. The room’s vibrant chatter had now come to a silence as others realized what was happening. Sehun gulped in fear but didn’t back down and analyzed the situation logically. Spreading out a hand of reassurance he negotiated with them. “I’m not a threat. Just let me go and I won’t say a thing about tonight to anyone else” He was sincere and to the point.

Dawn rejected his offer, and made his way to Sehun. Eyes filled with suspicion and distrust, he didn’t hesitate to raise his own sword to Sehun’s neck. When that happened Sehun closed his eyes, slowly falling to his knees and raising his hands in surrender. Gasping in fear, you pushing through the crowd that formed around them, and yelled at Dawn.

“Stop!”

Sehun opened his eyes in bewilderment at your actions, staring at you as if you were crazy. Not long ago was he the person that threatened to hand you over to authorities. Dawn mimicked Sehun’s expression and looked you up and down. You were well acquainted with E. Dawn, occasionally nodding heads to each other when you passed the hallways at night. But he was more so HyunA’s type, all solemn, serious, and virtuous.

“You’re brain must still be marble Y/N! This man needs to be terminated immediately, or else every artifact in this museum will be shipped off to be torn and teared apart by officials!”

The others cheered him, agreeing whole-heartedly with the general of the British. You sighed and glanced from Dawn to Sehun. Putting your best smile and persuasive voice you lowered his sword.

“Why general Dawn, this man had sworn to keep tonights events a secret! Could you not find an ounce of sympathy for him? Plus, where would we put the contents of his decapitated body?” you asked, batting your eyelashes as naturally as you could.

Sehun couldn’t help but smile and quietly scoff at your attempt of persuasion: key word, attempt. You were definitely one of kind.

Dawn began to take in your words, thinking about the consequences of murdering the man. Dawn wasn’t the most hardest to persuade. Glancing back to Sehun, he grabbed his turtleneck up. “What is your name?” he asked roughly.

Sehun eyes flickered from Dawn’s eyes, before staring in yours and saying,

“It’s Sehun. Oh Sehun”

Taking a few moments to think a bit more, the general came to a final conclusion. He released the grip from Sehun’s shirt, and brought him up to stand on his feet. Wrapping a less than comforting arm around his shoulders, and smiling assuringly to the crowd

“My fellow friends of the museum! You must have all been scared for a second. Do not worry!

“Sehun will not tell a single soul about tonight, right Sehun..”

Sehun stayed still, lips curling into a disapproving frown when he glanced downwards to Dawn’s hands on his shoulder.“If I find out that that mouth of yours has blabbered about some nonsense of real life wax figures and artifacts...” Dawn began laughing jokingly before he leaned in to whisper something in his ears. Sehun didn’t falter, never taking his eyes off yours like before.

“What is up with this guy?” you thought, biting your lip in disarray

━━━━━━━━━━

The crowd agreed on Sehun’s promise, letting him now roam the museum halls without the fear of getting jabbed by a sword. Now walking back to the library, side by side with him, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and shyness. What were you to say to him? You’re welcome for preventing you from getting decapitated? Sorry for slapping your cheek? You huffed quite louder than you wanted, sehun turning his head to look at your awkward state. He smiled a genuine one.

You had saved him. Showed him mercy even when he wasn’t the nicest to you. He cleared his throat.

“I wanted to say thank you.” he said. You looked up at him flustered. This was your first time speaking to a real person in a very very long time and you didn’t know how to reply.

“And apologize. I wasn’t very nice to you even though you saved me from getting killed.” He huffed. You reached the library doors, turning around to face him. You don’t know if it was the lighting above the doors or the electricity running through your veins, but you can now clearly see and focus on Sehun’s face.

Although his eyes looked down in self-disappointment, you could see his well chiseled jaw, nice lips, and a clean well taken care image. He was in fact, not that bad looking. Quite nice to look at even.

Shaking yourself of anymore weird thoughts, you waved your hands in reassurance. “Oh no! It’s fine! I wasn’t really supposed to be in the library of records anyways, and I shouldn’t have... slapped you...” you quietly admitted, now looking down at your bare feet. Sculptures didn’t normally wear shoes.

sehun admired you. you were beautiful. enchanting, charming and cute. you had stuck up for him, and showed kindness. Plus you were quite funny.

Sehun’s head rolled back, chuckling at your embarassment. After seeing your confused face, he explained. “sorry it’s just... you were pretty convincing back there to the general guy” Rosy cheeks appeared on your honey skin and you jokingly defended yourself. “You were about to be decapitated! What else could I have said to persuade him?”

He looked into your eyes amused, causing your heart beat to speed up.

Why do I feel so warm? Are my cheeks burning? you asked yourself, hand coming up to cool down your face.

“You’re from the ancient greek art gallery, correct?” he suddenly asked. “It’s just that I’ve seen you on my way to my office in the mornings. You’re Y/N, the sculpture that almost everyone that comes to the museum adores” he confessed smiling. This makes you smile, happy and embarrassed to know this.

Sehun doesn’t hesitate to ask again. “Have you been alone for all these years?”

You’re quick to answer. “Gosh, you say that like it’s a curse. For your information, I do have friends of my own that I spend time together with” you explained annoyed.

He smirks at your cute response and strong personality, holding up his hands in defence. “Just asking”

You’re about to say something else when Lisa suddenly appears in front of you, blocking you from sehun with folded arms and a tiny overprotective glare. You wondered how she even knew you two were here...

“So you must be that new museum curator that everyone has been talking about huh?” she says “you” with a bit of a tone, not afraid of showing Sehun her true emotions. Lisa’s million dollar gaze that leaves almost everyone shaking is showing. And that’s when you know the cogs in Lisa’s brain are running and working, jumping to conclusions or wrong ideas.

“Lisa..” you pleaded, tugging on your friends arm to tone it down.

“Yes I am. It’s an honor to be speaking with Mona Lisa herself” Sehun says politely and charmingly, extending a hand for her to shake.

Lisa hates bullshit. So she cuts to the chase.

Ignoring his hand, she then states. “Look, I’m not sure what you’re trying to get from the artifacts of this museum, but you will not get anything from my best friend.” Lisa steps closer, leaning in to warn him. “I know things about every person in this place.” she stares directly into his eyes. “Things that could ruin reputations” she continued softly yet deadly.

Sehun doesn’t waver at all when he is put up against the Mona Lisa. And I gotta give props to him for that. Before I could defend the poor man, Lisa grasps my hand and pulls me away. “Let’s go Y/N”

Lisa may be mentally strong, but she's physically strong as well. Her grip leads me away, looking back at a bewildered Sehun. “Lisa it’s fine, geez” I assure my friend, who is still mindlessly dragging me away. I looked back to sehun and expressed a sorry expression. He smiles and says something back that makes me feel something new inside.

“see you around Y/N”

all while smirking in that black turtle neck, hand waving back at me. God, the things that Oh Sehun is starting to do to me.

Lisa ruins the mood by shouting back

“No she wont!!!”

#exo fanfiction #exo #exo l #exo writings #oh sehun #sehun fluff #sehun humor #kpop series #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #night at the museum #kpop multistan #bp lisa #monalisa #blackpink #blink #glossyeon

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alternate-pokemon-next-gen · 3 years

Text

Ketchum Family Trivia

Ash’s Trivia

~Ash had spent a lot of his time with Pokemon more than people due to other kids bullying him.

~Ash hadn’t met his first human friend until he was six where he met Anabel.

~Ash and Anabel became very close since both of them could understand Pokemon and grew close to each other.

~Ash had met Serena a little after meeting Anabel, the three of them were close friends.

~When they met up again in Kalos, Ash became a wingman for Serena when he found out about her crush on Aria.

~Ash had gotten attacked by his main bullies and ended up being put in the hospital for a few weeks.

~Ash didn’t encounter Team Rocket due to the fact that Team Rocket was disbanded by his father Red and Red’s friends Blue, Green and Yellow and the revival of Team Rocket was stopped by Gold, Silver and Crystal.

~Ash was childhood friends with Gold and Crystal’s younger siblings Jimmy and Marina.

~Ash loved music ever since he was a baby as his parents would sing to him or play music for him when he was a newborn.

~It’s because of that, Ash is an incredible singer and his aura abilities are connected to his love of music.

~Ash didn’t meet or travel with Brock, Misty, May, Max, Dawn, Cilan, Iris, Serena, Clemont and Bonnie. He traveled with Gold, Silver and Crystal in Kanto, Orange Islands and Johto. Silver and Crystal in Hoenn. Silver, Anabel and Molly in Sinnoh, Unova and Kalos.

~Ash had befriended Jessie, James and Meowth due to them not being part of Team Rocket due to it disbanding before they could join. As such they’re all good friends.

~Ash was going to turn down the offer to be a Frontier Brain when Brandon offered, but when he realized that he could be closer to Anabel he agreed to be a Frontier Brain.

~When Ash met Anabel again and she offered to have him and his family come to her house, he happily agreed and when Silver asked about his battle Ash had simply said “Screw the battle!”

~Ash is a big fan of idols and Pokemon performers, a love that had passed to his older son Lazarus.

~When Ash was little, he could use his aura to read another person’s aura which helped him point out scammers, criminals and con artists who were pretending to be good people.

~Ash could also track someone’s aura so long as he’s seen and analyzed them before.

~Ash was known to befriend all kinds of wild Pokemon, he was so close to them that if he was in trouble wild Pokemon would help him even if they never met him before.

Anabel’s Trivia:

~Anabel used to live in Hoenn before she moved to Kanto.

~After moving to Kanto, Anabel would pretend to be a boy due to other kids from Hoenn saying she couldn’t be a Frontier Brain if she wasn’t an attractive girl.

~When she befriended Ash, she told him that she was a girl but Ash already knew and didn’t care that she was a girl.

~Anabel had befriended Serena around the same time they met.

~Anabel was slightly worried that Serena would try to be with Ash when they were older, but she was reassured by Serena that she wasn’t going to take Ash from her.

~After meeting Ash, she grew out her hair and stopped pretending to be a boy, saying that she’ll become a Frontier Brain because she has someone who believes in her and she wants to battle him one day.

~When she heard Ash was put in the hospital she visited him everyday, sadly he was either unconscious when she visited or so loopy from pain killers that he didn’t know who she was while she was there. She didn’t mind and stayed by his side for as long as she could.

~Anabel has psychic abilities that she’ll only use for emergencies or to help Ash when his aura isn’t enough.

~Anabel enjoys listening to Ash sing and enjoys singing with him.

Silver’s Trivia:

~Silver was childhood friends with Gold and Crystal, he teamed up with them to stop the revival of Team Rocket.

~Despite being Giovanni’s son, he completely rejects any notion of being related to Giovanni. To Silver, Red is the only father he has.

~Silver doesn’t have the same interest in singing as Ash does but he is a good singer when no one is looking.

~Silver was deeply upset when he got word that Ash was put in the hospital and wanted to beat up the bullies who did that to his little brother, but wild Pokemon beat him to it, which amused him.

~Silver always had a crush on Crystal and got annoyed when Gold or any other guy would flirt with her, even if they weren’t dating at the time.

~Before Ash was born, Silver made a promise to Red to always protect his younger brother or sister and keep an eye on them. He always feels horrible when something bad happens to Ash and he either couldn’t stop it from happening or wasn’t there to protect him.

~Silver has a Kyoto accent that comes out when he’s really angry, he always hates it when it pops up.

Crystal’s Trivia:

~When Crystal’s arms were broken when she was little, Silver was there to help her heal even though he had no idea how to help. She appreciated the gesture which is what made her develop a crush on him.

~Even after that day, she felt weak and unworthy of being near him and vowed to never be in that situation again

~Crystal still works with children when she isn’t being a professor’s assistant.

~Crystal finds Ash to be cute and often calls him ‘sweetie’ out of affection.

~Crystal is close to her younger sister Marina and always supported her relationship with Jimmy and Vincent.

~Crystal enjoys cooking and is very good at it, being the cook of the group (and kicking Gold when he would make a sexist comment about when she was cooking)

~Crystal would later teach Ash how to cook when he was older and she enjoyed teaching him how to cook.

Lazarus’ Trivia:

~Lazarus has a great singing voice like Ash, but he sucks at dancing.

~Lazarus has a huge love for anything dealing with stage performances, which is one reason why he really likes Ariel.

~Lazarus is aware of Ariel’s crush on him and does like her back, he just wants to wait for the right moment to confess his feelings to her.

~Lazarus does have a Pikachu as part of the Ketchum family tradition, his Pikachu is just more of a companion and acts as the Battle Frontier mascot.

~Lazarus’ dream is to create a new kind of Battle Frontier that matches that of the Pokemon gyms and the Elite Four.

~Lazarus is just as reckless as Ash was and Ash can’t even scold him for being reckless without sounding like a hypocrite.

~Lazarus’ battle style is similar to his father’s he plays to his Pokemon strengths and uses his quick thinking skills to create unique counters.

~Lazarus didn’t go to school or daycare when he was younger, preferring to just learn from experience than in school.

~Lazarus’ favorite color is white, he doesn’t know why.

~Lazarus’ favorite food is pancakes and his favorite drink is orange juice.

Chetari’s Trivia:

~The main reason why Chetari was adopted by Ash was because he heard her sing and he has a weakness for anyone who can sing.

~Chetari’s Jigglypuff is the son of the Jigglypuff that would draw on someone’s face if they fell asleep after she was done singing.

~The reason why Chetari has a rapping Swablu was simply because the idea sounded funny.

~Chetari studies human health as well as Pokemon health, someone has to make sure her adopted brother doesn’t hurt himself too badly.

~Chetari’s off color Gallade was based off of a idea me and unknownwolf1996 had where Chetari caught a Kirlia that was the same color as a character from Danganronpa, Kiibo the Kirlia then became a bit of a running gag.

~Chetari has a Zorua because that’s her signature Pokemon no matter what.

~Chetari has a Vaporeon both because I felt she needed an Eeveelution and because Vaporeon wasn’t taken by anyone yet.

~Wanted to replace Draco with Nuzleaf because it would be more fun that way.

~Chetari also has a Pikachu but like Lazarus’ Pikachu, she’s a companion.

~Chetari’s favorite food is pork buns and her favorite drink is tea.

Jewel’s Trivia:

~Jewel loves being with kids and is always happy to catch a Pokemon for them.

~Jewel often has to scold her cousin Lazarus for when he does something reckless.

~Jewel is a very good artist and photographer, she also enjoys scrap booking and is very good at it.

~Jewel is an amazing dancer, but she isn’t the best at singing.

~Jewel had went to school when she was younger before she applied as an assistant for Professor Cerise.

~Jewel knows her younger sister is afraid of Pokemon and often tries to get her used to Pokemon she catches, sometimes it works.

~Jewel is happy to provide Pokemon to help her cousin’s dream.

~Jewel always ties her hair in a bun or in a ponytail when she’s flying to avoid having her hair in her face and when she’s in the field so her hair doesn’t get in the way.

~Jewel also has an outfit for field work she wears as she doesn’t want to get her kimono dirty or ripped.

~Jewel’s team is built for capturing Pokemon similar to Crystal’s team with Meganium being her land transportation, Pidgeot being air transportation, Gothia using Mean Look to prevent Pokemon from escaping, Hitmonlee to be a battler for stronger Pokemon, Foongus to make Pokemon easier to catch with status effects and Pawniard to use False Swipe.

~Jewel was given Hitmonlee as a opposite to Crystal’s Hitmonchan.

~Jewel’s favorite color is red, which is why she loves her hair.

~Jewel’s favorite food is ramen and her favorite drink is green tea.

Morado’s Trivia:

~Morado’s hair was a lot lighter when he was younger, it got darker when he got older due to him spending a lot of time in the sun.

~Morado doesn’t like interacting with kids his own age as he thinks other kids aren’t as interesting as Pokemon.

~Morado doesn’t openly trust other kids despite his optimism.

~Morado likes music like his father and brother, he enjoys playing with drums.

~Morado has an interest in sports and wants to take up some sports when he’s older.

~Despite wearing purple and his name meaning purple, Morado’s favorite color is actually blue.

~Morado’s favorite food is omelette rice and his favorite drink is milk.

Tamako’s Trivia:

~Tamako loves her long hair and refuses to have it cut, even if her bangs are in the way of her vision.

~The barrette she wears was given to her so she didn’t have to cut her bangs.

~Tamako enjoys being with other kids her age and has a lot of friends at school.

~While she is afraid of being near Pokemon she isn’t familiar with, she still will heal them if any of them are injured.

~Her slight fear of Pokemon came from an incident she doesn’t like talking about as it brings up too many bad memories.

~Tamako speaks with a Kyoto dialect, though she often hides it as she finds it embarrassing.

~Tamako’s favorite color is turquoise.

~Tamako’s favorite food are dangos and her favorite drink is lemonade.

#Pokemon #Next Gen #Pokemon Next Gen #Trivia #AbilityShipping #SpecialJewelShipping #Lazarus Ketchum #Jewel Ketchum #Morado Ketchum #Tamako Ketchum #Chetari Ketchum #Main Cast #Children #Fan Kids #Pokemon Fan Kids

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boldly-ho · 4 years

Text

Another Life - Chapter 14

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: E

Word Count: 2113

Chapter Summary: You bond with your flatmates and friends over a night on the town, and meet some more of the dangerous creatures that roam the streets of Wellington. On a night out with your flatmate, you once again run into the strange man you may have known, but instead of clarifying anything, the mystery gets thicker.

Stu was every bit as good as his word. He’d come over one evening and installed a wifi router and desktop computer. He also set up your flatmates’ new mobile phones. In those acts alone he’d gone above and beyond. He didn’t stop there, though. Stu had stayed for hours, late into the night, to teach them how the technology worked. And throughout it all, he had been bombarded with the dumbest questions and a great level of incompetence. At one point, Viago and Deacon had even suggested Googling Viago’s one hundred year old lost scarf. But now, the vampires all had their own social media accounts and basic mastery over texting, Google, TradeMe, the works.

You were expecting to hear of Stu’s upcoming canonization any day now.

The novelty of it all hadn’t yet worn off of your flatmates, so you’d been keeping your phone on silent. Otherwise, it would be pinging all day with notifications from them. Looking at your phone now, you found a Words With Friends request from Viago, three texts from Deacon, and one from Vladislav.

It had been about five minutes since you last looked at your phone.

Deacon’s texts were all asking whether or not you were going out with them tonight. Nick had organized a night on the town that included Stu, and you had been invited along as well. As Stu still didn’t know that Nick, or anyone for that matter, was a vampire, the night would solely be about having fun. No victims. Thankfully.

You texted Deacon back that you were planning on going. He was right downstairs. It would probably be easier just to shout your answer. But, they still found the phones new and exciting, and so you were willing to indulge them a bit.

“Y/N!”

Speaking of shouts…

You found your flatmates gathered in the lounge, looking at pictures of themselves on their smartphones, analyzing their own outfits.

Upon seeing you, Viago smiled widely. “Y/N, we need a human opinion on our clothes for tonight.”

You looked each of them up and down, disappointed but not surprised by what you saw. Each was dressed like an absolute clown, which wasn’t all that unusual for their going out clothes, but you still couldn’t understand. It wasn’t as though they were ever the epitome of fashion forward, but their day to day clothes weren’t nearly as bad as the clusterfuck outfits they wore out on the town.

Vladislav actually dressed fairly attractively on the day to day. It was odd sometimes, but it always worked. He usually wore a low cut black top that exposed his chest, tight black pants, and black leather boots. Instead of that smart look, he currently wore cream pants with a red athletic stripe down the side, a ruffled red shirt with his chest exposed, of course, and a brown fur vest. He completed the monstrous ensemble with a top hat.

Usually Viago usually dressed like he stepped out the wrong century. Dated, but not inherently horrible. He currently wore one of his 19th century ruffled tops and coordinating vests, but now with a pair of camouflage joggers.

Deacon was irredeemable, and always dressed like an idiot. At least he was consistent.

The last time you had helped them put together somewhat wearable outfits, it had taken over an hour. You really didn’t want to deal with that right now. You were supposed to leave in a half hour to meet Nick and Stu, and you still had to change. Tonight was just about having a good time; they didn’t need to attract victims. They didn’t even have to worry about getting into clubs. Apparently, Nick knew the bouncer at Boogie Wonderland. It really didn’t matter how stupid they looked.

“Looks good, guys.”

“I told you,” Deacon snapped at Vladislav.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Viago asked, a barely hidden grimace on his face, as if he had any room to judge.

You’d already put on your makeup and fixed your hair; you only had to get dressed. You looked down at your body, currently clad in paint covered sweatpants and a worn hoodie. “Uh, no?”

“Oh, good. You should probably go change. It’s almost time to go.”

As if they weren’t the ones who called you downstairs…

“Good idea.”

You ran back upstairs, shedding your comfortable clothes and replacing it with your favorite black dress. You’d worn it the last time you went out with the guys, but hopefully they wouldn’t remember. You had other club-worthy clothes, but this dress was on another level. Why mess with a good thing?

You adjusted your favorite little black dress in the mirror, not bothering to make sure your cross necklace was still in place beneath it; you never took it off anymore.

The bathroom door opened, letting in the noise of the thumping bass from the club.

“Y/N? You in here?”

“I’m here, Dawn.”

“You okay? You’ve been in here a while.”

“I’m okay. The music was a bit loud. Just needed a second.” A partial truth. The music didn’t bother you, but you did need a breather, a little alone time.

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” you walked towards her and the exit. “Let’s go back out.”

As you walked out together, the song changed, and Dawn excitedly grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dance floor.

“I love this song!” she shouted over the pulsing music.

Dawn worked on yanking you out onto the dance floor, pulling you through the throngs of bodies. You stopped in your tracks, though, halting Dawn from where her hand still held yours, when you recognized a face in the crowd.

“Y/N?”

“That’s him,” you told her, not looking away from his face. “That’s the man I saw at Boogie Wonderland that night.”

He looked just the same, even wearing the same jacket, though this time with a pair of horribly mismatched pants. You pointed him out to Dawn.

“What do I do?” you asked. Clearly he hadn’t wanted to talk to you.

“I’ll talk to him,” she offered. “I’ll see what I can find out. Go! Don’t let him notice you!”

Dawn pushed you towards the bar, and made her way deeper into the crowd, towards the man you may have known. Settling onto a stool, you watched as Dawn approached the man. She cozied up to him, danced a little too provocatively, placed a hand on his arm. He seemed startled, at first, by her flirtatious attention, before visibly warming up to it.

“Anything for you?”

You jumped at the question, but turned to answer the bartender. “No thanks, I’m waiting on a friend.” You gestured vaguely at the crowd.

You returned your gaze to the packed dance floor, looking for the familiar faces of Dawn and the man. You scoured the crowd for a good minute or so, before realizing that they weren’t there. Where had they gone? Had he fled from her too?

You all but jumped from the barstool, heading out the front door to see if you could still find them. You were looking up the street, trying to spot either of them in the foot traffic, when Dawn literally bumped into you from the side.

“Y/N?” she asked as she caught her balance. “What are you doing out here?”

“Me? I was looking for you. What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I thought you were still in the bathroom, so I was coming to find you. I think I spaced out, though, and sort of auto-piloted out here instead.”

“The bathroom? No. I was at bar, while you were talking to that guy. What did you find out?”

“Find out? About what? What guy?”

Realization crashed over like an icy bucket of water.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Getting up to look for you in the bathroom.”

“And before that?” You could hear clearly the urgency in your own voice.

“I was just sitting at the bar waiting for you. You said you were going to the bathroom, and you didn’t come back for almost twenty minutes.”

You looked up and down the street again, looking anew for the man.

“Y/N? What happened? What’s wrong?”

It seemed that your flatmates had enjoyed Boogie Wonderland even more than they had Red Square. Viago went on and on about their light up dance floor, and Vladislav didn’t even leave said dance floor once. Deacon even managed to have a good time, and once he’d stopped pouting and complaining about Nick, he’d dragged you onto the dance floor and kept you occupied until you physically needed a break. You’d even gotten to know Stu a little better, bonding over the subpar snacks served at the bar. You’d had more fun than you expected, and were throughly worn out as you walked back towards the bus stop as a group.

You were laughing at a joke Nick had told when Viago interrupted the conversation. “Do you smell that?”

You sniffed the air. It didn’t smell great, of course, but it just smelled like city air. You couldn’t discern anything out of the ordinary.

“Werewolves,” Deacon hissed.

Nick glanced worriedly at Stu.

“Don’t start anything. Just keep walking,” Vladislav advised the group.

There was a group of men walking towards you, a few more in number than your group, but similar in age. Where they the werewolves? There was no one else around.

As you passed each other, Deacon let out a, “Look out, guys. Don’t catch fleas.”

“Deacon!” Viago scolded.

The other group stopped while Vladislav reiterated, “Keep walking.” Both groups ignored him, instead turning to face one another.

“We heard that!” one of the other group called back.

“Yeah, mate, we’ve got sensitive hearing,” another added.

“Oh, have you?” Deacon taunted.

“Yeah!”

“Why don’t you go smell your own crotches?”

“We don’t smell our own crotches; we smell each other crotches, and it’s a form of greeting.”

You wrinkled your nose. Viago did the same. You saw Stu looking around questioningly. You could hardly blame him.

“Maybe we should just go, guys,” you offered.

“Yeah,” one of the werewolves said. “Why don’t you ladies just go home?”

Deacon stiffened. “Who are you calling a lady?” He stepped closer to the opposite group, into one of their personal space, and was immediately, forcefully shoved back. Deacon hissed.

Viago removed one of his gloves, while one of the werewolves made a disparaging remark about it. That same werewolf was then promptly and, somehow, politely slapped across the face with the glove.

“Hey, what the fuck!”

“Don’t swear!” another from his group chastised. “We’re gonna lose it!”

The situation escalated. Deacon started shouting obscenities as a few werewolves snarled and were held back by their friends. A few of their eyes reflected the moonlight in a wholly inhuman way. Nick stepped in front of Stu, and Vladislav shouted as he grabbed your arm, yanking you behind him. You stepped aside to look at the werewolves, but were quickly pushed back.

“Stay back there!” he snapped at you.

You poked your head around his body to see, but otherwise stayed put.

“Calm down! It’s not a full moon,” the werewolf who had last spoken addressed the group as they collectively calmed, taking deep breaths and talking each other down. “Thanks a lot guys,” he said to your group. “We didn’t want this to happen.”

A few of their group howled loudly as they left. Viago, Vladislav, and Deacon hissed at their retreating forms.

“Are you okay, Stu?” Stu didn’t seem to hear Viago, still staring at the werewolves, growing smaller in the distance.

“Hey, man, it’s cool.” Nick slapped him on the shoulder and led him away, asking Viago, “Were those really werewolves?”

You still stood in the same spot, looking after the werewolves you could no longer see, more intrigued than frightened. Vladislav stood with you as the other four continued on.

“Y/N?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, finally tearing your eyes from were the werewolves had been, and looking up at Vladislav. You could see the concern written plainly on his face.

“I’m fine. It’s just wild. Real life werewolves… crazy.”

He sighed in relief. “I thought you were frightened.”

You shrugged. “Maybe a little, when things were getting pretty heated. But it all happened so fast, there wasn’t really time to be scared.”

He simply nodded. “Good.”

“Thank you, though, for looking out for me,” you told him. “For protecting me.”

He shrugged off your thanks. “I didn’t really think about it. Humans can’t protect themselves from a werewolf the way a vampire can. You could have been in danger.”

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #vladislv #vladislav x reader #another life #al fic

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hersheyotaku · 4 years

Text

Cloaked Feelings

Fandom: Tangled Characters: Varian, Ruddiger, Rapunzel Pairings: One-sided Varipunzel, heavily implied New Dream Tags: post series, before wedding, minor fluff, minor angst, unrequited love, pining, Varian being a dork, also starring Eugene’s face

Summary: Stumbling across the shapeshifting cloak was a complete accident. But with a bright and inquisitive mind like his, Varian can’t help but want to study it. However, a case of mistaken identity soon forces him to choose between doing what’s right…or falling further into a tangled web of deception and selfish impulses.

Read on Ao3 here

“Ruddiger!” Varian called in exasperation. “Get out of there! You can eat your apples after we finish sorting through this stuff.”

With a grumbling chitter, the pudgy raccoon abandoned the bucket of apples he’d been rooting through and ambled over to where Varian was sitting cross-legged on the floor. The young alchemist gave his friend a quick scratch behind the ear before nodding his head at a nearby basket, and the raccoon dutifully clambered up the side and disappeared over the rim.

Satisfied that Ruddiger was doing his part, Varian went back to rifling through his own box, which was filled with an assortment of unclaimed goods that had been salvaged from the wreckage of Corona a few months back.

Rapunzel had told him that since no one had come forward to claim any of the items, he was free to sift through and see if there was anything he could use for his experiments. He may be a fully-funded royal engineer now, but he still had personal projects that he liked to work on.

Besides, he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt! Back in Old Corona, he and Ruddiger had spent many days together digging through scrap piles for hidden treasures, though Ruddiger was usually more interested in gobbling down the remains of someone’s half-eaten sandwich than extracting metal bedsprings from a mattress to be melted down later.

Lance had helped him haul half a dozen boxes and baskets full of odds and ends down to his lab in the basement of the castle, but he’d paid the price for the help by spending the next half-hour cleaning up the minor explosion the larger man had caused during the five minutes he’d spent in the lab, touching everything Varian told him not to. Once the exasperated alchemist had contained the globulous purple fire and sent Lance on his way, he had finally been able to start sorting his haul.

Varian had just dropped a dented pocket watch into his pile of useful objects when he heard a hissing sound from Ruddiger’s basket. Brow furrowed, he stood and leaned forward to peer inside.

An orange tabby cat lunged out at him, and Varian let out a startled yelp. “Gah! What the—?!” He ducked his head as the strange cat clawed its way up his vest and curled around his shoulders. Where had it come from?! And where was Ruddiger? Grabbing the edge of the basket, he tipped it towards him, searching for his friend.

“Ruddiger?” he asked, then winced when the cat yowled right into his ear. He reached up to grab it, but instead of fur he got a fistful of fabric. Baffled, he pulled at the material, and in a shower of sparkling light a dark piece of cloth slid off of the cat and revealed Ruddiger instead.

They stared at each for a moment, then both of their gazes darted down to the cloth hanging from the alchemist’s hand. What…had just happened?

—

To Varian’s utter astonishment, he discovered that the large piece of cloth was actually a cloak. A hooded cloak with a chameleon-shaped brooch that could change a person’s physical features and was apparently controlled by neural oscillation or…something close to it. Essentially—as he’d had to explain to Ruddiger when the raccoon had tilted his furry head in confusion—you think of the person you want to look like, and boom! Instant change! And just as astounding, the cloak itself shifted into whatever outfit the wearer willed it to, making it the perfect disguise!

Remarkably, the cloak wasn’t simply bending light to create an illusion; it changed the physiological structure of whoever was wearing it. While experimenting, Varian had shifted to look like Quirin, and his head had collided with a high shelf that normally wouldn’t have posed a risk. Aside from the forming bump on his forehead, it was an exciting discovery!

He’d also found that the cloak only functioned correctly if the brooch was attached. Separated, the two items lost their transformative properties, and even when Varian tried attaching the brooch to other materials, it never yielded any results. But if he could find a way to replicate the materials, the scientific possibilities could be endless!

To that end, he’d laid the cloak out on a workbench that he’d hastily cleared of beakers and books. One corner of the fabric lay under the lens of a microscope, while the chameleon brooch floated in a beaker of chemical solution that Varian planned to test to see what properties it contained. He also had a few stray pieces of thread from the cloak floating in their own solution. He was going to find out exactly what these things were made of!

Plucking the brooch from the solution with a pair of sterilized tweezers, he carefully cleaned it before reattaching it to the cloak. Then he took the two chemical compounds and poured them into labelled test tubes. Since the day he’d tried to test Rapunzel’s hair, he’d improved on the process and come up with an alternate method in the form of a chemical solution that could analyze the composition and properties of whatever he soaked in it.

Once he’d placed the test tubes into the chamber of a small centrifuge machine of his own design and set it to run, the teen alchemist placed his hands on his hips and took a step back, letting out a satisfied huff. That should do it!

But it would be a few hours until the results were ready, so now he had some time to kill.

Glancing around his lab, his eyes landed on his bookmarked copy of Flynn Rider and the Cursed Isle of Sairaag. He grinned. He knew just how to pass the time.

—

“Ha! You think a few scurvy pirates can stop the great Flynn Rider?” Varian goaded his invisible foe, brandishing his prototype electromagnetic sword. Wearing the face of one Eugene Fitzherbert, he swiped at the rubber ball that came flying towards him, envisioning it as a savage pirate charging him at the command of the Dread Pirate Ruby-Eyed Rick.

While Eugene might not be the Flynn Rider from The Tales of Flynnigan Rider, his was still the face Varian associated with his favorite fictional character. And with the help of one totally non-magical cloak, he now had the chance to be his childhood hero!

“Is that the best you’ve got, you flea-bitten rapscallion?” he taunted, hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation of the next round.

Dropping the ball he’d been about to load into the Varian’s homemade launching machine, Ruddiger gave an indignant chitter and planted his paws on his sides.

“No, Ruddiger—I know you don’t actually have fleas,” Varian reassured his friend with a touch of exasperation. “It’s just a line from the book!”

Ruddiger didn’t seem entirely convinced, but nonetheless, he picked up the ball and dropped it into the machine.

“Ha-ha!” Varian crowed triumphantly as he cut through the projectile. “Give it up, Ruby Eye! Your two-bit lackeys are no match for—”

He froze at the sound of the door creaking open. Shoot, he hadn’t been expecting anyone!

“Hey Varian, have you seen—oh there you are, Eugene!” Rapunzel stepped into the lab, a wide grin on her freckled features.

“O-oh, no, I’m not—” Varian stammered, his cheeks flushing at being caught in what was essentially an elaborate game of make-believe. Why did he have to give in to his childish impulses without locking the door first? And why did it have to be Rapunzel of all people to catch him?

But apparently Rapunzel had drawn a completely different conclusion, and she let out a light laugh as she approached him. “Were you playing with Varian’s inventions again?” She took the sword from his hand and placed it on the nearest table. “You know how he feels about people touching his stuff. Remember how you crashed his Flynnoleum-powered cart into the city fountain?”

Wait, that had been Eugene?! Varian knew he hadn’t forgotten to set the emergency brake when he’d—

The alchemist was jolted from his thoughts when Rapunzel gave his nose a light tap. “Don’t worry!” she told him, before leaning in close and whispering conspiratorially, “I don’t think Varian has it out for you the same way he does for Lance.”

With Rapunzel so close, her large emerald eyes and cute freckled nose mere inches from his own, Varian was finding it extremely hard to articulate any of the thoughts tumbling around in his head, and that gave the princess time to move on to the very reason she’d come looking for Eugene.

“Now, who’s ready for our date~?” she practically sang, bouncing on her heels.

“Date?” Varian echoed, before realization dawned on him and he held up his hands in alarm. “Rapunzel, I’m not—”

“Oh very funny, Eugene,” Rapunzel smirked. Then her fingers curled into the material of his shirt to pull him down—a foreign feeling for the normally short-statured teen—and she pressed a kiss to his mouth.

Time ground to a complete standstill for Varian, his every sense zeroing in on the feeling of Rapunzel’s soft lips pressing against his own. She—she was kissing him!

Then her lips began to move against his, and Varian couldn’t help himself.

He kissed her back.

He had no idea how long the kiss lasted—it felt like an eternity and a split second all rolled into one—before Rapunzel pulled away with that shining smile of hers.

As Varian slowly came back to his senses, he realized that his arms had wound around the princess and pulled her into a tight embrace. But it was unlike any embrace they’d ever shared before. It was intimate, and Varian could feel a hot flush creeping up his back and neck as his heart pounded fiercely, keenly aware of the feel of Rapunzel’s body pressed against his.

He wasn’t given too much more time to think about it before Rapunzel expertly twirled out of his hold and grabbed his hand. “C’mon, let’s go! We don’t want to miss the sunset!”

Before Varian could ask ‘what sunset?’ he was being pulled towards the door.

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, he caught sight of Ruddiger watching from atop his workbench. ‘Help!’ he mouthed to the raccoon. Ruddiger tipped his head, seeming to consider the idea before giving him a toothy grin and curling his small raccoon hands into double thumbs up.

What…that little traitor! Varian didn’t even have time to glare at the raccoon before Rapunzel towed him down the hall, chatting excitedly about their date.

Now, Varian’s first instinct was to protest and tell her he wasn’t Eugene and that she was mistaken. But the fresh memory of what had just transpired between them kept his lips sealed as his pulse thundered in his burning ears.

He couldn’t let her know that he wasn’t Eugene now! What would she think if she found out she’d kissed him and…oh geez, he’d kissed her back! If he hadn’t been an idiot and gotten swept away in the moment he could probably play this all off as the huge misunderstanding it was.

But he had kissed her back and even wrapped his arms around her, which had just prolonged it. There was no explaining that away! She’d find out—she’d know how he…how he felt about her, and then what would happen? She was engaged! To Eugene! One of his best friends!

If Varian’s hands had been free he would have tangled them in his hair in frustration. What was he gonna do? The kiss had been wonderful, everything he’d ever imagined it could be, but he couldn’t let Rapunzel find out!

The best thing he could do now was escape before things got out of hand.

“Oh hey, um…s-sunshine?” The nickname tasted foreign on his tongue. He was so used to calling her Rapunzel or princess, but Eugene usually reserved the first for more serious occasions and never used the second. This was going to be tricky.

“Hm?” Rapunzel glanced back at him curiously.

“Uh, I forgot that I had a…a thing that I need to do. Y’know, captain of the guard stuff and…uh…” Varian trailed off as Rapunzel’s face fell, his chest constricting uncomfortably.

“Oh…does that mean we have to cancel our date?” Her large green eyes stared into his sadly, and suddenly Varian felt very small, despite his magically-enhanced height. Well…it wasn’t like one little date would hurt anything. It would make Rapunzel happy and—if he was honest—the idea of actually going on a date with her was pretty thrilling.

“No,” he finally said, giving her a lop-sided grin. “It can wait.”

The beaming smile that lit Rapunzel’s face effectively washed away all of Varian’s doubts about his decision, and he willingly allowed himself to be whisked down the hall.

—

Varian glanced around the docks uneasily, his doubts resurfacing now that they were actually here. Eugene had apparently made arrangements for a romantic sunset boat ride, which made the teen alchemist wonder where the real Eugene was. Shouldn’t he be here if he was the one who set up this date?

Rapunzel hopped down into the boat and held out an inviting hand. “Ready?” she asked, her smile drawing Varian in like a moth to a flame.

Well, the fact of the matter was that Eugene wasn’t here. And someone had to take Rapunzel on this date! “You bet!” he said, taking her hand and joining her. She untied the mooring rope while he grabbed the oars, and soon they were headed out towards the open water.

They found a spot where Rapunzel insisted they would have the absolute best view of the sunset. Already the darkening sky was turning a dusky pink, and Varian had to admit that it was probably going to be a spectacular view when the sun dipped below the horizon.

But until that happened…he had no clue what he was supposed to do. What were they going to talk about? What did she and Eugene talk about when they were alone like this?

Fortunately for him Rapunzel was a take-charge kind of girl, and she was all too happy to snuggle right up into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she sighed, gazing up at the pink and purple streaks coloring the sky.

A response popped into Varian’s head and, emboldened by his concealed identity, he decided to voice it.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Then he held his breath, not knowing how she would respond. Was that too cheesy? Too forward? Too out of character?

Rapunzel pulled away from his shoulder, and Varian felt his heart jump into his throat. He’d messed up, he’d definitely messed up! Slowly turning his head, he was shocked to see Rapunzel looking at him with a soft smile, her cheeks lightly tinted pink. “Aw, that is so sweet!” she cooed, and this time Varian’s heart skipped a beat for an entirely different reason.

With his confidence boosted and nerves soothed by Rapunzel’s positive response, Varian committed himself to the task of enjoying his time with the bubbly princess.

Amidst amiable chatter, he gave her compliments, enjoying how she’d flush with happiness. He took her hands and softly rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, brushed her hair back from her face, gently pressed his forehead to hers. No matter how small, each touch was absolutely electrifying to him, charged with an emotion that Varian could only describe as…well, love.

This was a side of Rapunzel that only Eugene got to experience, and while it wasn’t like the couple hid their affection in front of others, there was just something about being the direct recipient of Rapunzel’s coy looks—how she would bite her bottom lip while looking at him from beneath her thick eyelashes—that stole his breath and made his stomach do somersaults.

He relished each small romantic gesture—both given and taken—that he’d otherwise never dare to indulge in, and committed each and every one to memory.

This was both the best and worst idea he’d ever had.

Then Rapunzel leaned in, her eyes slipping closed, and Varian’s heart beat a million miles a minute. It was happening! She was going to kiss him again!

Varian was no stranger to physical affection from Rapunzel. She was the type to give out hugs like candy, and she had no qualms about holding hands with Varian or even snuggling up to him if they were sitting next to each other. But it was always platonic in nature, and while Varian enjoyed it, he hadn’t realized how different those innocent gestures of affection were compared to what Rapunzel shared with Eugene. Even if it was the exact same physical action, it was the emotion and intent behind it that made it special.

And none of it was truly intended for him.

Then her lips were on his, and Varian allowed himself to forget that crucial little detail and be swept away. One hand tangled itself in her hair while the other settled at the small of her back, pulling her closer. He could feel the light pressure of her hand on his chest, and the sensation of her thumb brushing along his jaw sent a delightful jolt up his spine.

By the time Rapunzel pulled back, Varian’s head was buzzing pleasantly and he felt lighter than air, like he could just float away on the slightest breeze.

“Th-that was great, thanks…” he mumbled dazedly, a goofy grin on his face.

Rapunzel giggled at his dazed expression. Then she tipped her head to the side, studying him. “Y’know, you’ve been acting a bit funny, Eugene. Is something wrong?”

Panic sliced through Varian’s euphoria, and he quickly shook his head. “N-no! Of course not! Why would—why would something be wrong? Nope, ev-everything’s cool, we’re cool!” Chuckling nervously, he made to lean on the side of the boat, but his elbow missed and he nearly tumbled into the water.

“Woah!” Rapunzel exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and yanking him back before he could fall overboard. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Should we head back?”

Varian took a second to calm his rapidly beating heart, which felt like it was about to pound his ribs to dust. “I-I guess maybe that would be a good idea,” he conceded reluctantly, almost shakily. As much as he was enjoying spending time out here with Rapunzel like this, on an actual date, he was also painfully aware of what a charade it was. And the longer it continued, the more likely he’d be found out.

Taking both of his hands in hers, Rapunzel locked eyes with him, gazing at him so intently that Varian’s previous attempt to calm his heart became an effort in futility. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Completely entranced by her soft tone and those vivid green eyes filled with understanding and concern, Varian’s mouth automatically opened to confide in her. But at the last second he caught himself and snapped it shut.

He loved her. He’d loved her since the day she’d offered him forgiveness and the chance of redemption, from the moment she’d refused to let him kill himself to clean up the mess he’d made. But he couldn’t tell her that, and he couldn’t tell her that he’d selfishly taken advantage of her to see how it would feel if…if she returned his feelings.

But it was a pale imitation. She thought she was with Eugene, not him.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Varian gave her a weak smile. This was something he couldn’t share even with her.

So instead, he told her, “I think I might’ve had some…bad fish for lunch. Didn’t um…taste right, y’know?”

Sighing, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. Maybe it was wrong, and she certainly wouldn’t know the true meaning behind his words, but this might be the only opportunity he had to tell her without potentially ruining their friendship.

“I love you, Rapunzel,” he told her gently, combing his fingers through her soft brown hair reverently.

Rapunzel’s eyes lit with a warmth that made Varian’s heart ache, and she reached up to rest her hand on his cheek in turn. “And I love you, Eugene.”

It felt like she’d slapped him. Even with her tender touch, and even when she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his once more, Varian felt the sharp ache of Eugene’s name on her lips. He hadn’t even been expecting anything, he’d just wanted to finally tell her, but…it was too much.

The feeling of something warm and wet sliding down his cheek made Varian’s eyes snap open. To his horror, he realized that his vision was swimming. No, he couldn’t cry, Eugene wouldn’t cry!

Breaking the kiss, he was thankful that Rapunzel’s eyes were closed as he swiped his sleeve across his face. What was he doing, he’d known all along that he had no place with Rapunzel. Not like Eugene did.

“Eugene?” she asked, utterly confused when she opened her eyes to the sight of her fiancé vehemently swiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

“All-allergies” was his weak excuse. Leaning down, he picked up the oars and attempted a reassuring smile. “Let’s head back, we can…we can do this again some other time. When there’s less…pollen.”

A lie. She would do this again with Eugene, but not him.

Varian could tell that Rapunzel suspected something was off, judging by the concerned looks she kept shooting him as he rowed them back to shore. So he did his best to buck up and make light small talk, for her sake. He didn’t want her to worry…or to question Eugene about it later.

That thought sent a jolt of horrified realization down his spine. Eugene. There was no way Rapunzel wouldn’t mention the date to him later, probably to ask what he’d been hiding from her. Stupid stupid stupid! They were going to find out!

It took a lot of effort to not let his panic show as he helped Rapunzel out of the boat, a wide smile plastered onto his face that probably looked a bit manic, if Rapunzel’s raised brow was any indication. “Eugene…maybe you should go see a doctor?”

“No!” Varian exclaimed hastily, before clearing his throat. “It’s just that I uh…I need to…need to go.” He stood there for a brief moment, his overly wide smile still in place. Then he ducked away and booked it down the street.

“Wha—Eugene!” Rapunzel exclaimed in surprise, reaching after him. “Where are you going?!”

Somewhere he could take off this stupid cloak and try to figure out a way to salvage this whole situation! But Varian thought back to his ‘bad fish’ excuse and decided to roll with that. “Bathroom!” he shouted back.

As he disappeared around the corner of a building, Rapunzel’s hand slowly lowered. Well that was…weird.

—

Back in the relative safety of his lab, Varian took a moment to lean against the door and catch his breath. Initially he’d wanted nothing more than to rip off the cloak as soon as he was out of Rapunzel’s sight, but had thought better of it. He couldn’t risk someone seeing him go into a building as Eugene and come out as himself, especially while carrying such an incriminating piece of evidence.

So instead, the citizens of Corona got to witness their illustrious captain of the guard tearing through the streets like his tail was on fire. Which…really wasn’t all that rare of an occurrence, but still.

Varian grabbed the cloth at his shoulder and pulled the cloak off, his body returning to normal in a sparkling flash of light. With a heaving sigh, he ran his fingers through his bangs. He had a lot to think about.

Dragging the cloak with him, he sat down at his desk and let his head fall on top of the scattered blueprints and schematics with a thunk.

On the one hand, he’d never imagined he’d get the chance to be with Rapunzel like that, and it had been amazing. But any joy he might derive from the memory was tainted by his gnawing guilt at the false pretense those stolen moments had been under. And he still had to figure out what he was going to do when Rapunzel inevitably talked to Eugene…

A knock at the door nearly made Varian jump out of his skin, and he frantically stuffed the cloak under his desk, kicking it against the wall and nearly tripping as he scrambled from his seat. He’d locked the door this time, but it’d be suspicious if it took him too long to answer it.

“C-coming!” he called, heart pounding as he undid the lock and cracked open the door.

A cold sweat broke out on the back of Varian’s neck when he saw who it was.

“Rapunzel?” he squeaked, before clearing his throat and opening the door fully. “I mean uh, h-hi!”

“Hi Varian!” she grinned, then tilted her head as she took in his frazzled appearance. “Are you…busy?”

“Busy…um, no!” Varian stepped back and gestured for her to come inside, making a valiant effort to keep his hand from shaking as she moved past him. “What—” He paused, wetting his suddenly dry lips as he struggled to maintain eye contact. “What brings you here?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something.” The princess twirled a strand of brunette hair in front of her ear while Varian held his breath, dreading her next words. “Earlier, I went on a date with Eugene and…he was acting kind of funny.”

Varian’s mouth went completely dry. She knew.

“But,” Rapunzel continued, clearly not reading into Varian’s wide-eyed expression. “it turns out he was just having indigestion from eating some bad fish for lunch.”

Varian’s fight or flight instinct had been about to kick into overdrive, but just like that it vanished, leaving him somewhat numb as he tried to comprehend this turn of events. “…what?”

“Yeah, I think he came here earlier to see if you could help him, but you weren’t around and I might have dragged him off before he could get something to fix it,” Rapunzel explained sheepishly. “So I was wondering…do you have anything that could help with an upset stomach?”

Varian blinked. “Upset stomach?” he echoed. That’s why she was here? Not to force him to give her an explanation for his actions, or chew him out for tricking her, or kick him out of the castle? “Uh I…don’t really do much with medicine, though I could probably whip something up if you need me to.”

It’d have to be something with no potency whatsoever, since he doubted Eugene—wherever he was—had actually had bad fish for lunch.

Rapunzel’s smile was dazzling. “Oh, thank you, Varian!” she said, grabbing his hand and giving it a quick squeeze that made the young alchemist’s heart flutter. Then she was out the door, giving him a lighthearted wave. “I’ll be back once I find where Eugene went!” And she was gone.

Varian slowly let out the breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding as he closed the door behind her. He meandered over to the cabinet where he kept his alchemical supplies, absentmindedly plucking a few colorful vials before moving to his workbench.

So he hadn’t been found out. And really, if nobody knew he had the cloak, they couldn’t possibly pin him as the fake Eugene, even if Eugene and Rapunzel did talk. But the thought of Rapunzel worrying about who the stranger in the boat had been, touching her, kissing her—Varian didn’t want to imagine the distress that would cause her.

…should he come clean? Before Eugene could confirm that he hadn’t been the one in the boat with Rapunzel?

The very idea made Varian’s gut twist into an anxious knot. Telling Rapunzel would keep her from worrying about being molested by a stranger, but would she forgive him? Be able to trust him again? Understand why, in his prolonged moment of weakness, he’d done it?

Well. She’d been able to forgive Cassandra but…somehow that felt different. Cassandra hadn’t tricked Rapunzel into kissing her. And he hadn’t had an ancient demon manipulating him.

The sound of squeaking door hinges jerked Varian from his spiraling thoughts, and he whirled around. Then he let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was just Ruddiger coming through the special door flap he’d installed for him. “Oh, it’s just you,” he breathed. Then he noticed the raccoon had something in his mouth, and he kneeled down to get a better look. Was that…an empty vial?

Ruddiger deposited the vial into his waiting hand, and Varian’s breath caught as he read the label.

Quirinian 2.0

Ironically, in his attempt to help Rapunzel’s parents regain their memories, he’d actually managed to create a weaker version of what the Quirinian was originally supposed to be: a memory-erase serum. The effects of the serum caused whoever drank it to forget everything they’d experienced in the last 24 hours. But since it didn’t help people regain their memories, and the king and queen had managed to remember their lives without his help anyway, he’d shelved the serum and moved on to other projects.

His eyes darted back to Ruddiger. “Did you…” He swallowed weakly, afraid of the answer. “Did you give this t-to Eugene?”

Ruddiger nodded, looking immensely pleased with himself.

Varian’s heart dropped. So this was why Eugene hadn’t shown up? Because he’d forgotten about the date altogether? Varian had no idea how recently they’d made their plans, but apparently it had been fairly impromptu, probably something they’d decided last night or this morning.

Oh no. Ruddiger must have interpreted his plea for help when Rapunzel had taken him from the lab as asking for help with the date, not getting out of it! No no no, he hadn’t wanted this!

“Ruddiger…no,” Varian said, his voice cracking as he clutched at his hair with both hands. “No, you went too far! I—” Slowly, his hands fell to his lap. “No…I went too far,” he admitted miserably.

Dimly, he was aware of Ruddiger’s concerned chitter, how his friend patted his leg in a gesture of comfort. But that left Varian to wonder just why he was so upset. Was it because he’d tricked Rapunzel? Broken her trust so he could live out a fantasy for a few hours? Indirectly drugged Eugene? Or was it because…

He swallowed thickly. Because he knew that he’d never experience that sort of happiness, that sort of thrill, with Rapunzel again?

Varian’s eyes darted to the cloak, and he chewed his lip, torn. There was a chance, just a small one, that he could experience that happiness again. But it wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair. To Rapunzel, to Eugene, to himself.

All he had to do was get rid of it and no one would ever know. Rapunzel might even blame the bad fish thing for Eugene’s memory. But…

Shaking his head, Varian tore his eyes away from the shimmering fabric. He shouldn’t even be tempted to use it again. He should just move on, cherish the memory of his short time with Rapunzel, let everything go back to the way it was.

But there was a dark, desperate part of himself that wanted to experience being with Rapunzel again, regardless of the cost...and it scared him. If he kept the cloak, the temptation would be too great.

He couldn’t let that happen. He’d made enough mistakes in his life—he had to get rid of the cloak before he made any more.

Resolve hardened, but afraid it wouldn’t last, Varian moved to where the cloak lay crumpled on the ground and snatched it up. “C’mon Ruddiger, let’s get rid of this thing.”

With a chitter of agreement, Ruddiger climbed to his shoulders and the alchemist strode from his lab to dispose of the magical cloak.

Not a moment after the door shut behind them, a high-pitched ‘ding’ echoed through the lab as the centrifuge machine came to a stop, and the spectrometric press hooked to it printed out two sheets of data.

The test results were ready.

#varian #rapunzel #tangled the series #rapunzel’s tangled adventure #tangled #tts #rta #fanfic #varipunzel #hershey’s written works

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howaboutleeches · 5 years

Note

Hiya! I was wondering if you could do headcanons with the main 6 who has a m!mc who usually is very fun, happy, boisterous, etc. But, one day they find m!mc sobbing and come clean about how he tries to keep all his negative emotions inside because he hates feeling like a burden and is actually very insecure about himself and believes deep down that he isn’t good enough for them.

Warnings: self deprecation, might be triggering

Unfortunately I could find any gifs that suited the context, but I'll do my best with the writing part.

Enjoy 💕

How would the main 6 react to you being secretly insecure (Headcanon)

Asra

🔮 Asra is constantly out of the shop. Helping other people, looking for new ingredients or cleaning someone else's mess. He told you that he would be out for the day, and would only return at dawn. He kissed you goodbye and went on his way.

🔮 When he arrived at his destination, the problem was already solved, so he turned back and went to the shop, several hours earlier than you expected. He decided to make it a surprise, so he snuck from the back and saw you sitting on the floor with your back turned to him. He tiptoed to you and gave you a big scare. When you turned around, face swollen, nose red and teary eyes, he thought it was his fault.

🔮 He instantly pulled you to his lap wrapping your body with his arms and asked you what was wrong, what happened and who made you cry. It took you some time to actually stop crying and tell him that you were the problem.

🔮 He held your face and looked deep into your eyes before saying "You're the most precious boy I've ever met. You don't have to be happy all the time, especially around me. You can always be yourself here. I love you no matter what".

🔮 He just holds you for a while, stroking you back gently and rocking both of your bodies in a calm motion. He also gives you a peck on top of your head from time to time.

🔮 Faust slithers in into the hug and curls around your head and licks your face playfully saying things like "Friend cute", "Friend nice", "Friend worthy", "I love friend!"

Nadia

👑 She was going to be solving some issues with the courtiers the whole day and kissed you goodbye early in the morning. You decided to stay in your shared bedroom and just lazy around.

👑 After sometime laying down, you got bored and decided to explore the huge castle a little. Strolling down the halls, you heard two servants talking and couldn't help but to listen to their conversation. "Have you seen the countess's new boyfriend?" "I did actually, didn't know she would settle for so little" "I know, right? Count Lucio was way hotter" "Certainly".

👑 That broke you. You already had some issues about self-acceptance and feeling relevant close to Nadia, but knowing other people also thought you weren't suitable enough, crushed you even more.

👑 You ran back to your room and took your clothes off, sinking in the bathtub right after. You felt the tears coming and soon, dark and judging thoughts came to you.

👑 Nadia arrived a few minutes later expecting to see your bubbly self as usual, but got shocked by seeing you sobbing in the bathtub. She immediately rushed to you and asked you what happened. After telling her, rage took over her face and she assured you that those two servants would be fired right away.

👑 She joined you in the bath and pulled you to her chest. "Darling, do not pay attention to those fools. I only hear good things from the other servants about you. How polite, caring and what a good and lovely person you are. And I agree with them. My position as Countess does not make more of a person that anyone. You are amazing and I love you dearly"

Julian

♟ Julian decided to take you to Mazelinka's place to have dinner. You, Julian and Portia were knocking at her door as soon as the sun feel on the horizon.

♟ You had a nice dinner, laughed, danced, talked, sang and everything was fine until you felt like a spectator before the whole scene. You saw their happiness and joy and started to feel like you would never be able to truly have all that.

♟ You excused yourself quickly, and proceeded to rush out of the house, leaving everyone very confused. You never did that before and at first they didn't know how to react, that's until Portia smacked Julian's head and told him to hurry after you, which he did almost instantly.

♟ He found you in a alley siting on a fetal position, crying your eyes out, and that hurt him deep. He kneeled to your level and pulled you to his chest, wrapping his very long arms around your torso. He didn't exactly know what to say except for "Just let it all out, sweetheart"

♟ After some minutes, he asked you what was wrong and you told him about your insecurities. You were surprised when he let out a small chuckle "You have no idea how much I love you, do you? I would never leave you for any other man. You're the one that I want to spend the rest of my days with. You're the most perfect creature I've ever met and I regret many things on my life, many horrible decisions, really, but being with you...was the best choice anyone could ever make. And I'm glad you choose me too".

♟You went back to the house and both women hugged you tightly. Mazelinka told you to sit your butt down while she made you some special soup. Portia also decided to help and brought you a warm blanket. You couldn't help but to feel accepted by your new family.

Muriel

🌿 Muriel was out in the woods to collect some wood for the winter. He left you with Inanna saying that you couldn't protect yourself, so you needed the wolf's help. You agreed and Inanna stayed behind to make you some make you company and keep you safe.

🌿 You then proceeded to look around at the hut. There were new things there. More blankets, more food, more pillows, more clothes, more carved animals Muriel made just for you and the place was way more organized.

🌿 You stared to tear up at the sight of all that. He spent so much time and effort in you. Always trying to please you in all ways. You felt tears running down your cheeks and Inanna came close to you, licking your face. You started crying even more, not knowing why she liked you so much. You hugged her and cried as she buried her head on your shoulder.

🌿 Muriel entered and, looking at the scenario, dropped all the wood. His eyes were wide at the sight of you crying and at first he though you were hurt. He rushed to you and Inanna gave you both some space. After analyzing your whole body and not finding any injuries he got confused. "Honey...what's wrong?"

🌿 You fully opened your heart to him and told him everything. How you thought he spent to much time looking after you, doing things to you, getting you supplies, and you know how he liked being alone, which made things worse to you, because you felt like a burden to him.

🌿 He looked dead serious into your eyes, blushing a little "I...like you here. And I don't mind doing things for you. It's like having a prince at my hut. You bring happiness to the woods. Inanna likes you. And I like you too. I...I love you" he took a flower crown out of his cloak "and you deserve nice things".

Portia

🐈 She had many plans for both of you today. You were going flower picking, you would have a picnic, swim at the lake and watch the fireflies. After all, she would be released of her duties earlier today. A little "prize" Nadia gave Portia once in a month for her hard work. She would only have to help with breakfast and lunch and then she was free to go.

🐈 You, on the other hand, stayed in your cabin and decided to take a look around. Accidentally, you found her plans for the day. She planned so many things, all for you to spend more time together. All of your bad thoughts came in mind and you started to feel the tears come.

🐈 They usually said that you weren't good enough for her. While she worked at the palace you simply helped with small tasks in the shop. You felt completely useless and disposable. She didn't need you. At all.

🐈 When she came back, she was surprised to see the house so quiet, since you usually greeted her with a big smile and a warm hug. She though you were playing with her and tiptoed around the house to find you, until there was only one place left to look. The bedroom.

🐈 She opened the door on a fast movement and screamed to scare you, which actually happened. But seeing you face filled with tears, she instantly felt guilted and rushed to your side, rubbing your head and pulling you to a hug. She asked you why were you were sad and you explained it all to her.

🐈 She grabbed your face with her chubby hands "Look here, young man, I'm with you for a reason! Your stunning looks are just a bonus. I love for your heart. And you're definitely not useless. How cool is it that I have a magician boyfriend? That's totally something to brag about".

Lucio

🐐 Lucio was throwing one of his big parties again. He choose your outfit, just like everything else you were wearing. He sprayed you with compliments as you were both standing in front of the mirror.

🐐 You went down to the ballroom, his arm around your waist, and people began whispering. Some of them looked happy for you, other feared for you and a few of them looked extremely jealous. Still, you felt uncomfortable and unconfident with the whole situation.

🐐 The party went by and you chatted with some friends you made within the palace. Most of them were servants, but that didn't matter to you. They were nice people and you really liked them. You were talking to one of the bakers when his glance went form your face to something happening behind you.

🐐 You turned around to see a very embarrassing scene for you. Another man, throwing himself on Lucio's lap, his hand rubbing his chest. You excused yourself from the conversation and rushed to the master bedroom. You threw your coat on the floor and went to the veranda to get some fresh air, involuntary tears running down your face.

🐐 Quick and heavy footsteps were heard from the hallway and Lucio bursted into the room, looking for you. Once he found you on the veranda and saw your crying face, he pulled you close by your waist. You couldn't help but burst out all the things that were bothering you on him. Your fears, insecurities, everything.

🐐 "I've never met that man in my life, but I know he's not even worthy of being close to you. You are better than any of those fools. Not because your a Count, but because of your heart. You learned to love and accept me after everything I did and because of that, you would certainly win the prize of "purest soul". You're amazing. Always remember that. Or I'll have to remind you myself".

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katniss-shmeverdeen · 4 years

Text

A Trip Like No Other

I wrote a short story and want y’all to enjoy it; This is a long one so grab some popcorn and settle in.

“I can’t believe you’re making me wear this,” Lucas said in disbelief. He looked in the bedroom mirror and analyzed the red and black get up Brantley put him in.

“Oh come on, you’re about to begin the last year of your twenties, you gotta start it off with a bang”

“Yeah and this ain’t it, Brant. If I wanted to be ring leader to a bunch of clowns, I would go back to my last job at Bridgeport. They never could make a decent cappuccino.” He eyed Brantley in the mirror,

“And who are you supposed to be?”

“Uh, Tyler Chatwood” He waited for Lucas to react, but it didn’t click. “The Cubs” Lucas turned to Brantley and shook his head. “Really dude? It’s our home team, how can you not know these guys?

Lucas turned back to the mirror to adjust his top, “Believe it or not, some of us couldn’t care less about sports, especially their names.”

Brantley adjusted himself in the mirror as well, “Alright we’ll work on your sports knowledge later, right now we have to get out there and make sure our friends have the best Halloween yet.”

Lucas turned and grabbed his top hat off the bed post, “Fine, but if any one calls me Hugh Jackman, I’m leaving”

“And go where?” Brantley had to raise his voice because Lucas was already out the door, “You live here!”

“Maybe I’ll find a nice hovel!” He heard him shout from the hallway, making his way toward the party in the living room.

Lucas entered his living room to see about twenty people in all kinds of different costumes and outfits. Some went above and beyond to make sure their costumes were as accurate as possible. Lucas could’ve sworn he saw Heath Ledger because that Joker costume was anything but a joke. Others put in so little effort that he wasn’t sure they even knew what kind of party this was. He saw a man with disheveled hair and paint-splattered jeans wearing a shirt that said ‘This is my party shirt.’

Black and orange string lights were hung around the room, along with fake spider webs, bat and ghost decals on the walls, and spooky music playing in the background.

Brantley did a bang up job getting this all together. He’d always had a knack for this kind of stuff, and went all out to make sure parties were enjoyable for everyone.

Lucas made his way to the punch bowl in the kitchen and poured orange Fanta into a black plastic cup.

Before he could even get a sip of it, a burly man dawning a toga with some stains had an arm around him and was shaking him vigorously, making half of the pop in his cup jump onto the counter.

“Hey hey! There’s the birthday boy!” He shouted unnecessarily, his mouth was a centimeter from Lucas’ ear and the music wasn’t even that loud.

Lucas did his best to smile, but it was hard to do that while holding his breath to avoid breathing in armpit-stench. “Curtis, oh boy, it’s uh, always good to smell- see ya, buddy.”

Curtis let go of him, but stood just as close. Lucas took a step back while rubbing his shoulder and turning his head to get a good breath in.

Curtis was one of those clowns at Bridgeport, always over-friendly and not concerned about doing his job well, just talking with customers and co-workers and not understanding their social queues.

He continued using his loud voice, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my favorite boss, we sure miss you at the ol’ bean shop!”

Lucas tried smiling again, but it was more of a grimace. He had been in this situation too many times and he was trying to think his way out of it. Before, he could use the customers or co-workers as an excuse to leave the conversation, but now there was no backup to fall on.

“I’m sure you do; Listen, with all this party stuff going on and this being the big 2-9, I’ve sort of made myself anxious about all of it and that’s resulted in an upset stomach, so I hope you’ll understand my need to get to the bathroom as soon as I can.” He didn’t give Curtis a chance to respond before he made a mad dash out of the kitchen.

“Well make it quick, we got a lot of catching up to do!” Curtis yelled even louder as he poured himself more drink.

Lucas arrived back in the living room and looked for Brantley. He spotted him in the corner trying to make a home run with Alice from Wonderland. Lucas made his way through the crowd, giving quick smiles to those he made eye-contact with. Brantley was just about to get Alice’s number when Lucas grabbed his arm, “Excuse me, I need to borrow Romeo for a second.” He dragged Brantley down the hallway and stood close enough to him so others wouldn’t hear their conversation. “Please tell me you have a good reason for inviting Curtis.”

Brantley shot back at him, “Don’t blame this on me; I was at Bridgeport inviting people you actually like, and he overheard us talking, therefore inviting himself. I talked to the current manager and she said he wasn’t scheduled to work that day, but I guess he wanted to clock in out of the goodness of his heart.” While Brantley was explaining, Lucas was dragging his hand down his face so hard his skin almost came off. “After you made me wear this costume I didn’t think this night could get much worse, but Curtis and a few others being here proved me wrong.”

“Well if that’s how you feel, I’ll just tear down the decorations and tell everyone to get out since tonight’s so horrible.”

Brantley started to walk away, feeling under appreciated for all his work to get this party together.

Lucas walked after him, “Brant, come one, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…” He took off his top hat and focused on that instead, ”I’m at another dead-end job, bills are piling up, I’ve been single for three years… I don’t know, I guess I’m not as happy with my life as I would’ve hoped so I don’t really see much reason for celebration… and I think the whole Curtis thing was the straw on the camel’s back, ya know?.

And to add salt to the wound, this February was ten years since I lost my dad.”

Brantley never could stay mad very long and was usually the one to ease tension,

“Well I know one of those things you can try to change tonight. A certain red-head in a maid costume’s been eyeing you all night”

That made Lucas perk up very quickly, “Really? Well then what are we waiting for? Let’s get this party started.” He slapped on his top hat and confidently strode back to the party.

After about an hour of mingling, flirting, and avoiding certain people, Brantley decided it was time for Lucas to wish himself into the next chapter of his life. The partygoers still at the house at this point sang while Brantley brought the cake to the kitchen counter where Lucas was sitting on a barstool. Lucas had seen some extravagant cakes before, but this one was in the top five of most gaudy. He tried to be appreciative, but it was hard when his own face was staring back at him. There were also black and orange balloons, black cats, and some kind of goblin creature taking up a third of the cake. He made a mental note to avoid eating from that section. The candles were arranged in a way to avoid the icing creatures, so Lucas would do his best to get them all out in one go. He sat with his eyes closed for a second, trying to think of a good wish. He knew it wasn’t real, but you never know what might happen, especially if you’re Lucas Whittaker. He decided on something that could cover all the bases, and leaned forward as he thought to himself, “I wish for this year to be different.”

Before Lucas opened his eyes again, he heard a stranger’s voice. “Oh it’ll be different alright.”

Lucas’ eyes shot open and saw a man standing where Brantley had been. This guy looked like he lost a fight with Hot Topic’s discount rack, complete with chains and an outdated graphic tee.

Lucas stood up and looked around the room. The music was dead, everyone else was gone, and the house became twenty degrees warmer.

He looked at Mystery Man like he’d just been shot, which he might as well have been. “Where are Brant and the others? What did you do with them? Who are you? Why are you here? How are you here?”

Mystery Man put his hand up to stop Lucas from winning the prize for the most asked questions in a minute. “Hey kid, I only answer so many questions for new clients, you’re pushing the limit.”

“Client? I didn’t sign up for any of this, what do you want?” Lucas asked, his patience running out quickly and his sweat increasing.

“Yes, client. I have someone you want, you have someone I want- well, technically I have both of them, but I can’t retrieve one. Anyway, for us to get those people back, we have to work together, which I guess would make us more like business partners.”

Lucas marched over and grabbed him by the shirt collar, getting close enough to smell last night’s dinner still on his breath. “Listen here, you sorry excuse for an angsty teenager, bring Brantley back or I will personally air-mail you to the foot of Satan’s throne.”

Mystery Man looked at him with so little interest, that if he were any more bored, he’d be dead. “Interesting, considering the man whose throne you plan to send me to is standing right in front of you.”

Lucas released him in a huff, reconsidering everything, while the King of Hades smoothed his newly wrinkled shirt.

Lucas paced by the fridge, trying to digest his current situation. “This is not happening, this isn’t real, I’m dreaming. That’s it, I’m still at the party, passed out on the couch having a drink-induced nightmare. I knew I shouldn’t have had that shot of tequila and hot sauce.” He stopped contemplating long enough to realize he was alone. He cried out to the empty area, “Are you kidding? What do you want from me?!” He looked around, but there was no answer, just Lucas, the kitchen, and more questions than he had at the start of the day.

He exited the kitchen and went to the front door to get his keys from the hook. “Alright, I’ll just have to find Brant myself.” He reached for the knob and started to open the door when he heard the man again,

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

The Lord of the dead appeared on the same couch Lucas had been in earlier that evening, making Lucas jump so far out of his skin, he had to hold himself back from decking Hades all the way to Tartarus.

Hades continued, “Going in blind will get you killed, and you won’t be able to return my son to me.” Lucas looked at him with confusion and disbelief, “I’m sorry, I must’ve blacked out for a second. Going in where? And did you say your son?”

Hades pointed at the stereo, and they were suddenly listening to some old-school ACDC. “Yep, my time on the throne is almost up and since it can only be ruled by my descendants, I figured it’s high time I bring him home to learn the ropes and eventually take his rightful place.”

After a few seconds, Lucas asked, “What does that have to do with me?” Hades stood and got in Lucas’ personal space, “You and my son are a lot closer than you might think, here let me show you.”

Before Lucas could ask what he meant, Hades snapped them to Lucas’ childhood home. They stood in the living room, looking at a family of two snuggled on the couch, with candles lit, orange and black decorations, and only the glow of a scary movie to illuminate their faces.

“Can they see us?” Lucas asked, careful not to make any sudden movements in case they were about to ruin the time-travel continuum. Hades gestured to the living room and said with a sly grin, “Don’t worry, this is only a projection of your past, we’re not here.”

“How? I don’t remember this night at all.” Lucas walked around, inspecting the decorations, furniture, and the father and son. He leaned over and gave them a closer look. “I sure miss you dad, I wish you were still here.” He stood up slowly and walked back to Hades, crossing his arms, “So why are we here? What does this forgotten memory have to do with your son?” Hades glanced at him and looked ahead again, “Three, two, one,” and on the next beat the doorbell rang. Lucas’ dad, Anthony, answered the door, but was quickly drained of any happiness when he saw who it was. Mystery Man himself was standing on the doorstep of Lucas’ home, looking not too different than now. Anthony spoke in a hardened tone, “What are you doing here? I told you never to come back.”

Hades put his hands up in a surrender pose, “I’m just here to see the boy, it’s been another six months already since we got together.”

“Yeah, and I was hoping the last time I saw you would be the last time I saw you. I especially never want you around Lucas ever again, you’ve brought nothing but trouble to him.” Anthony grew angrier and more impatient, but doing his best to speak in hushed tones, “Do you know how much ridicule and humiliation he’s been through with friends and in classes because he tells people you’re his friend? Do you know how many times we’ve had to change schools because the teachers and parents overhear him saying he knows Hades? I need you out of our lives forever. He just turned thirteen and he deserves to live his teenage years, as well as the rest of his life, without you, and he can’t get that with you showing up whenever you feel like it, or at all!”

Hades peaked into the living room and saw Lucas sitting on the couch, elbows deep in popcorn. Looking back to Anthony, he let out a defeated sigh, “Fine, if that’s how you feel, I’ll leave for good.”

“I hope so, that’s what you said last time.” Hades snapped his fingers, but nothing changed. “There, now he won’t remember me at all, if anything, I’m just another one of his scary nightmares.” He started to walk away, but turned back, “Just don’t come crying to me when he wants to know what happ-“ Anthony slammed the door in his face before he could finish his statement. He walked back to the couch and re-joined his son as if nothing happened.

Current Lucas turned to Hades, more confused than before, “That answered nothing, like, this makes less sense than before you showed up today. What does any of this have to do with me, your son, saving Brant-” Hades turned to Lucas, hands behind his back, “Lucas, what has your dad told you about your grandparents?”

“What? How is that relevant?”

Hades walked over to the fireplace and wiped the dust off a picture frame of Lucas and Anthony at his sixth birthday, “Do you have any fond memories, stories, hand-me-downs from either of them?”

Lucas tried to answer best he could, sorting through his memories, but struggling to find any of those things in his mind, “Uh, grandma had my dad when she was twenty five, but grandpa wasn’t really in the picture. Dad said… he said grandpa would drop in every now and then, but really that’s the only memory he has of his dad. Ironically, he said our names are related. I only remember his name also started with an L and I know it wasn’t Lucas, but what is similar to that?” Hades sat next to Anthony and relaxed as he watched Lucas talk this out. “Anytime, champ, we got a schedule to keep.” Lucas glanced up at him with a sarcastic look, “I’m doing my best here, Captain Impatient. So… Lucas…Luscious?…” He chuckled a bit, saying sarcastically, “Lucifer?” He stopped laughing when he saw Hades not joining in the laughter, “No, no, no, no, no this can’t be true. You are not my grandfather, I am not the grandson of the Satan, I’m not related to you!” He stormed out of the house into the front yard. He was pacing again, hands on his head and tear on his cheek. Hades showed up in front of him again, “Welcome to the family, let’s get to work.”

He snapped his fingers again and returned them to empty party house. Lucas was in his usual clothes this time, a pair of regular fit jeans, hiking boots, and a plain t-shirt with a flannel unbuttoned.

Lucas didn’t give a rip about the location change, all he did was sit on a couch in silence and wipe away his tears, but finally said in a whisper, “How do I get Brantley back?” Hades was elated, and clapped his hand on Lucas’ back. “That’s the spirit! So, all you have to do is go into the Underworld, find your dad, and bring him to me in my throne room!”

He had an overly enthusiastic grin on his face, waiting for Lucas’ response. He just stared at Hades with hatred. The grin left Hades faster than he could snap-travel, “Look, I can’t get him out because only mortals and demi-gods, like your father, can be where he is. Plus, if I try to go in there, the souls will attack me like I’m the last zebra in a lion’s den.” Lucas kept his head forward, looking at the hanging bat decorations, “So why does it have to be me?”

“I’m glad you asked! You are my grands-“ Lucas cut him off, “Don’t. Say it.” Hades sighed, “Fine, you’re my relative, so you have immunity to the underworld’s effects. Anyone else would be dead in ten minutes, but you have the ability to walk in and out unnoticed like one of your AA meetings.” Lucas shot him a glare that would make Cerberus run for the hills. “How do you know about that? I’ve never told anyone, not even Brant.” Hades tried in his most innocent voice. “What? I can’t keep up with my favorite grandson just out of pure love?” Lucas kept his eyes on Hades waiting for the truth, “Alright so I might have been keeping tabs so I would know when the right time came to do all this,”

he said, as he gestured about the living room.

Lucas yelled in frustration, “The right time would’ve been never!” He stood up and turned back to address Hades on the couch, “You know what? You’re crazy and I’m getting out of here!” He did just that and slammed the front door, leaving Hades inside.

Lucas was walking away from the house, but he could only get so far without Hades on his heels, but in this case it was his toes. Hades appeared right in front of Lucas mid-stride. He quickly turned and started the down the sidewalk. Hades eyed him and shouted, “When will you learn you can’t escape me? I can go anywhere and anytime, and believe me, I do have time, unlike Brantley.” That was it, no one, not even the Devil himself, could put Lucas’ best friend in imminent danger and not expect repercussions. He turned to look back at Hades with a cautious, but curious look, “What does that mean? What’s happening to him down there?” Hades sauntered forward, eventually meeting Lucas under a street lamp, “Remember when I said other people will die quickly down there? Well, I felt gracious enough to spare his life a bit longer than normal, but he’s still dying nonetheless.” Lucas was very interested in the shoes while Hades explained all this. With a hand on his hip and the other on his forehead trying to keep it from exploding, he said, “Fine. Let’s go down there. Use your magic trick to flash us to… wherever in the hell we’re going.” Hades gave the biggest smirk he could muster, “I thought you’d never ask” and snapped with both hands.

Lucas woke up in a library, at a four-person table, surrounded by books so thick they could’ve been used for bricks. The library was small, max occupancy around 100 people. It was a place Lucas had frequented a lot his senior year, he needed silence to concentrate on polynomials, and his dorm was the last place that would be found. He looked at the seat across the table, watching Brantley feverishly take notes on paper, while studying two encyclopedias. “Pleasant dreams, champ?” Brantley said, while keeping his focus on his work. He was met with a hand on his face, “Brant? Is it really you?” Lucas said in disbelief. Brantley swatted at his hand in frustration, “Yes, it’s really me! What’s going on with you?” Lucas retracted his hand and examined it before looking back at Brantley, confused, “Are you sure we’re not in Hell?” Brantley let out a short breath, “Might as well be with all this work we’re doing.”

“No, this can’t be right, I was just talking with Lucifer, well, Hades an-“ Brantley cut him off in a hushed tone, leaning over the table, “Dude, keep your voice down! Most people aren’t used to hearing stuff like that,” They both gave a smirk to someone walking by, “and quite frankly neither am I, especially since you haven’t mentioned him in two years!” Lucas sat back in his chair, “Wait, you remember me talking about him? Why didn’t you ever mention that to me?” Brantley gave a concerned look, still keeping his voice down, “Because like I said, it’s not a subject matter I’m particularly fond of, let alone something I want to be talking about out loud.” He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms,

“I remember the days after you had one of those nightmares, you came to school so… sullen and beat down, you were a completely different person. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want you becoming that person again, living in that pit. Now shut up and study, you know how hard Mr. Herrington’s tests are for you.” Lucas looked at Brantley as if he had three heads, “Mr Herring- I haven’t had to study in five and a half years, dude. We graduated already.” Brantley looked at him with the same confusion Lucas had, “Okay maybe you shouldn’t study, it’s obviously frying the little brains you do have.”

Lucas looked at him cautiously, slowly standing up, “Rrrright, uh, I’m gonna go, uh, over there.” He pointed and walked toward the non-fiction section hastily, leaving Brantley wondering what was happening to his best friend.

Lucas paced up and down the aisle, muttering to himself, trying to figure out how and why he was reliving this night. Hades had to be messing with him, right? Lucas knew for a fact that he wasn’t a student any more. One can never forget the sweet release into freedom after walking across that stage.

Before he realized it, a librarian walked over to see him not looking at books, “Excuse me, sir, is everything ok over here?” Lucas looked at her startled and tried to muster an answer, “Uh yes, yeah, everything’s fine, great, in fact. I was just, uh, rehearsing my, uh, monologue for an upcoming audition.” He stood as if someone had him at gunpoint, praying the woman would leave quickly. She nodded with concern and swiftly shuffled away. Lucas let out an exasperated sigh and muttered to himself, “And my audition for the insane asylum.” He meandered to a shelf and pulled out ‘What to Do When a Loved One is in Danger.’ He paused for a moment, “Okay that’s eerily specific.”

He opened to a random page; he didn’t expect much, but he didn’t expect to see only one word on the page: ‘HELP.’ His eyes got wide ‘HELP ME,’ his heart beating faster with every flip of a page, ’HELP ME PLEASE’ he had to grab hold of the shelf to keep from falling over, ‘HELP ME PLEASE, LUCAS.’ He threw the book on the ground, shattering this illusion and shifting him to another location.

This time Lucas woke up groggy and sweaty. He knew he wasn’t dreaming because he would never sleep in such a warm environment. All those “nightmares” about Hades had traumatized him from being in hot places, even trips to the beach were pushing it. He looked around, but couldn’t see much. Everything was dark and the room was small. There was a thin layer of gray smog, just enough to irritate his eyes. His wrists were throbbing. He looked up and saw he was chained in manacles hanging from the ceiling. He was in a T-position, just barely able to relieve his wrists of pain if he stood on his toes, but if not, he would slump down and cause them to catch the edge of the shackles.

He could hear labored breathing, which might’ve been his own, but he couldn’t be too sure. He couldn’t be sure of anything lately.

Lucas looked across the room and saw the faint figure of a man about his size. His heart racing, in hopes it was who he thought. “Brant?” He said, but his voice sounded like a lawn mower trying to start up after a long winter in a shed. No reply. Lucas said his name louder, and a little smoother this time. The man spoke, sounding similar to Lucas’ first attempt, “No, no. My, uh,” he cleared his throat, “my name is Anthony.” Lucas could not believe what he was hearing. His thoughts running a marathon now. Was it really his dad? Where’s Brantley? Was this actually another dream? Where’s Hades? How can he get out of here? How will he survive? Lucas paused and tried to collect himself,

“l’m sorry, can you run that by me again?”

“Uh, I said my name is Anthony” Lucas’ eyes got wide with hope “….Dad?” Anthony became more alert and hopeful, “Lucas? Is that really you?” Lucas let out a sigh of relief, “Yeah dad, it’s me, it’s really me and I’m really here…

I think.” Lucas wasn’t too sure, but it sounded like his dad was choking up, and it wasn’t due to the smog, “Oh my boy, you’ve grown up so much. I’m so sorry you had to go on all this time without me.” There was silence for a while before Anthony spoke again. “How long has it been?” Lucas took in a deep breath and let it out just as slowly, “Ten years” Silence again. “Dad?” “It’s been ten for you, but for me it feels like I’ve been down here for a hundred. And the worst part is that I believed Hades’ lies. The night I died, Hades spoke to me in the car. I don’t mean in a philosophical way or in my mind, he literally showed up in my passenger seat and paused time to have a discussion with me.

We both knew that driver wasn’t stopping and he said only one of us could live through that accident. I asked him why we both couldn’t live and that’s when he told me about one of us needing to take over his throne. I didn’t want to come, but he told me it was the only way to ensure your safety and his absence in your life. I had just enough time to look at you sleeping in the back seat before the car got T-boned.” He chuckled a bit, “oh you were exhausted.

It’s hard to be the star of the show, especially when it’s your last one and your crush is your co-star.” Lucas had a hard time not sniffling. That was his favorite show and his favorite high school memory, and he never would’ve guessed it’d also be the night he’d lose his dad forever.

“But, the next thing I knew, I was hanging here and yelling at him to release me. I don’t know why I actually believed him…. I guess I just wanted the best for you.” Lucas’ heart felt like lead. He never would’ve guessed that his dad had sacrificed himself to save him. Dream Brantley was right, the subject matter did make him sullen and dismal. After Lucas let the smog and thin air dry his tears, he said in a low voice, “Why didn’t you tell me about him? Why let me forget?” Anthony used the same soft voice, “Because you’re curious, you’ve always been curious. Remember your fifth grade field trip? You came home and refused to go to sleep until you knew how that animatronic mouse was alive. It ruined you for about three months, we couldn’t even drive past that place without you bursting into tears. So I hope you can understand why I held it from you…. You being who you are, I assume your life has been good, you’ve got great friends, a good job, found a nice girl, a really cool house probably… and a life without him. I wanted to tell you, I really did, I just thought I had more time. Also, I didn’t think he would actually hunt you down.” Lucas did his best to make eye contact with Anthony, “It would’ve been better coming from you than finding out when he dragged my best friend to Hell.”

“Would you have believed me?” His dad said, using an accusatory tone. He waited for a beat, then said lightly, “What does it matter? You would’ve done your research and pieced it together yourself.”

“Dad, that’s not the point, what matters is that you didn’t tell me the truth” Anthony raised his voice, “The truth would’ve wrecked you and sent you into a lifelong tailspin like it did for me!

Before I kicked him out of our lives, he brought nothing but turmoil. He tried so many times to take us on field trips down to his world. He gave you poisonous spiders and snakes as pets before you were even three years old. He tried to set you on fire to build up immunity. I didn’t choose this life, but I refuse to follow in his footsteps as a ruler and father.”

Lucas shot back at him, “Well you might not have much choice!” He waited and let himself calm down “Unless we can figure out a loophole or some other way to get us out of sitting on that skele-throne, we’re stuck down here.”

“Well if you have any bright ideas, let me know, I’ve been trying to figure out how to take him down since the moment I arrived.”

Just then, there came a loud noise that sounded like twenty banshees were sending out a warning signal, which was very likely. Lucas almost near soiled his pants, but he kept it together long enough to ask what was happening. He looked around to see if there was any immediate danger “I’ve been down here a long while and only heard that sound a handful of times. He’s coming.” Lucas shot Anthony a concerned look, “What?” Anthony corrected himself, “Well actually, we’re going to him, which isn’t much better.”

Lucas barely had the chance to ask what he meant before the two of them were standing in the pit of a blacked out colosseum, or rather Lucas was, while his dad was at the right hand side of the Devil himself. He looked down and saw a sword in his hand and a shield in the other, both just as black as the dirt under his feet. He was decked out in full, matte black Roman armor instead of the outfit he came here in. He even had a helmet with a plume. It’s a good thing he also had a cape to complete the look or else he might look stupid.

Lucas looked around and saw he was alone in the pit. The only audience he noticed right away were the human-shaped shadow figures filling the seats in the arena. They weren’t cheering, but they weren’t booing either, actually, they weren’t doing anything at all. He could tell they didn’t have eyes, but that didn’t erase the feeling of being under a microscope. Lucas finally spotted Hades. He was sitting in the first tier of seats, the podium, reserved for senators and royalty. Lucas was being cynical before about the skele-throne, but that’s exactly what was under Hades’ rump, a collection of black and gray skulls, fingers, feet, and every bone in between, sloppily constructed to resemble a chair of sorts. Lucas thought he might be hallucinating, but he could swear the bones were reaching out and crying for help. Mist curled up around each movement of a hand or call of the mouth, but he assumed it was Hades’ sheer will-power that kept those bones in place.

Anthony was still in shackles, but this time they were rooted in the floor and the cuffs were held together by a short chain. He was standing next to Hades, just over his right shoulder. He was out of Hades’ line of sight, but still close enough that Hades could grab at him if the need arose.

Hades sat up properly and addressed Lucas, as if just noticing his presence in the underworld,

“Welcome, my grandson! I’m surprised it took you this long to wake up!” Lucas looked at him, then at the colosseum, “Where am I?” then noticed his dad, and pointed with his sword, “What’s he doing up there?” then it dawned on him Brantley wasn’t anywhere to be found and started looking frantically around him, then back at Hades, “and where’s Brant?”

Hades muttered so only he and Anthony could hear, “Jeez kid you really do ask too many questions,” he cleared his throat and spoke so Lucas could hear, “You mean you don’t see him standing right next to you?”

Lucas turned so quick he almost got whiplash, his best friend standing next to him in the same body of armor as he. Lucas dropped his weapons and gave him a bear hug, letting out a sigh of relief and disbelief, “Oh my gods, I thought I lost you, man! I got your message in the library, I’m so glad you reached out.” Brantley did his best to return the hug, but his confusion was holding him back. “What? What message? What library?” Lucas quickly released from the hug and returned the level of confusion, “You-you didn’t send me a message crying out for help?”

“No; the last thing I remember is you about to blow out your candles and the next thing I know I’m down here ready to perform a grade-school play of ‘300’,” Brantley said, as he examined his garb and location, “and where is ‘here’ exactly?” He gave Lucas a questioning look. Lucas turned back to Hades, who was wearing the same smirk as when he sent Lucas down here. Hades sat forward and leaned his elbow on his knees, “You see, champ, my little magic trick from earlier sent Brantley to this exact moment.” Lucas turned back to Brantley and whispered in disbelief to himself, “So you were never in danger, and if you didn’t send the message, who…” his eyes got wide and he turned to look at Anthony, “Dad?” With misty eyes, Anthony nodded, assuring Lucas of his hunch. Anthony knew it was a long-shot to reach out for any mortal soul, but he was desperate and knew that Lucas would always be there for him, even in the after-life.

Lucas turned his attention to Hades and shouted, “So you lied to me? Brant was never in danger?” Hades stood and shouted so the shadow figures could also hear, “Of course I lied! I’m the inventor of lies!. Lies that life will be full of rainbows and cotton candy. Lies that dads won’t keep secrets from their kids. Lies that life has a good ending.” his voice became calm again, “And by the way, I’ll always be king down here; I would never even dream of letting anyone else take over, especially my own kin.”

He sat back down, examining the dirt under his nails and propping his feet up on the edge of railing, “Though, I did tell the truth about one thing, you really are my grandson.” Lucas heard a human-sized thud next to him and turned to see Brantley had passed out, hopefully due to shock of that information and not a heat stroke. He bent down to wake him up, his patience paper thin by now, “Come on, Brant, wake up, we don’t have time for this.” He tried shaking him, but after that didn’t work he went with a hardy smack across the face, waking up Brantley and immediately sitting him up-right. He asked in a mumble, “What happened? Whose grandson?” Lucas gave him a quick response, “I’ll explain later, get up!”

He turned to address the King of Lies, “So why do all this? Why drag us all down here?” Hades made eye contact with him, which was the first time Lucas was truly terrified of him. “Because you and this degenerate next to me are the saddest excuses for humans I have ever seen, and I can’t let that continue, especially if you’re related to someone like me.” He turned toward Brantley now, “as for you, I needed incentive for Lucas, and you simply chose the wrong person to hang around all those years ago, so really it’s your own fault you’re down here.” Brantley had to grab Lucas to hold him back. Hades was back on his throne with his feet propped up on the railing, “And that is why you, dear grandson, are going to fight him,” he said, “which shouldn’t be too hard, though, since his body isn’t equipped to survive down here.” Anthony tried to reach for Hades, but his chains just shook a bit.

“You’ll fight to first blood- no that’s too easy, to the death! The winner will be able to roam the underworld as much as you want, but the loser will be my lackey for the rest of time, that is, after you’ve had time to regenerate into your ghostly form. So let’s get this show on the road.” Lucas and Brantley looked at each other with facial expressions as if to say, ‘is this really happening?’ Brantley spoke up this time, “You just admitted to being the biggest liar in history, how are we supposed to trust your word on that?”

“I’m just here for a good show, I don’t care who lives or dies. Plus I have some lunch-deprived Hellhounds who can join if you don’t start soon.”

They turned to each other and started discussing how to get out of this, speaking in whispers. “Alright what do we do?” Lucas asked. “I don’t know! You’re the one with semi-godly powers!” “Yeah, not semi-godly knowledge!” “Well, can’t your dad do something? He’s got even more power than you, right?” “I sure hope so, otherwise we’re dead” “Don’t remind me” “Well we gotta do something, neither of us can stay here, and I’m sure not leaving my dad behind.”

Hades was on the verge of losing his patience, not that he had much to start with anyway. “Today, princess!” No response from either of them. “Alright, time for the Hellhounds then.”

That got their attention. Hades was about to send them in, but Lucas turned toward him, putting his hands up, “No, no! We’re uh, we’re…” Brantley interjected, “We’re trying to decide who would be a better servant for you, sir, ya know, we want to leave you with the best!” Which wasn’t entirely false, they really were trying to decide who should stay, both of them too loyal to let the other die.

Hades relaxed, happy that they were finally coming to terms with their situation, “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

Brantley spoke in a strangled whisper, “Okay now we really have to think of a plan” Brantley could see the wheels turning in Lucas’ head, “What are you thinking?” Lucas answered, a little too excited, “Do you remember our high school production of Les Misérables?” “Of course, I was forced to do that instead of be in detention all semester.” Brantley said, wondering how this pertains to anything. “Well don’t be too sore about it, that’s how we met,” Lucas mentioned. Brantley shook his head in agreement, “Anyway, do you remember the dance-y fight scene between those two guys?” Brantley was even more confused and concerned than before, “Dude, that was like, twelve years ago, of course not!” Lucas stared at him, waiting for a different answer, knowing Brantley was not good at bluffing. “….Yeah I remember.” “Let’s use that to at least buy us some time and hopefully my dad will think of something.” Brantley let out an exasperated sigh, “Let’s give it a shot.” With that, the two started to recall the fight sequence, a little rocky to start, but eventually it came back to them. They knew they would have to make it bigger and better for Hades, so they were overly dramatic and yelling insults that would’ve gotten them kicked out of Radio City. At some point, Brantley even managed to draw blood from Lucas. Lucas was more impressed about it than anything, considering this is only the second time Brantley has ever wielded a sword, let alone a sharp object.

Back at the podium, Anthony was trying to conjure up a plan and quietly get out of his restraints, but it was useless. In defeat, Anthony looked to the floor and he noticed there were metatarsal bones, phalanges, metacarpals, and a bunch of other bones that he assumed are in hands and feet, forming from mist on the floor and falling from the chair. They were probably here because Hades was putting more attention into the fight than keeping his seat in tact.

Whatever the reason, it gave Anthony an idea. It was a long shot, but he had to try.

Lucas had just executed some brilliant improv by drop kicking Brantley, too bad he moved out of the way, sending Lucas air born and landing on his back so hard his chiropractor could feel it. Sadly, it was all for nothing because at that very moment they heard a howl coming from the podium, not one like a dog or wolf, more like someone had shoved their hand in a running blender. Lucas was never more concerned for someone’s life than right now. The guys ran and jumped over the railing to find Anthony standing over Hades. The throne that had been there before was gone, well not exactly gone, just being used for a different purpose. All the bones that made up the throne were now evenly distributed on top of Hades body, holding him down and clamping his mouth shut. About five Hellhounds were charging toward all of them, but Anthony spoke right before they hit them head on, “διαμονή,” and they stopped in their tracks, giving head turns of confusion.

Anthony looked down at Hades with relieve, “Ya know dad, this is the first time I’m actually happy to have some of your power.” Lucas looked at his dad in awe, “Dad, how did you do that?” “For the Hellhounds, you tend to pick up a few things after being down here for so long, and that includes command words. As for the skeletons, I knew I had some of his power, and I assumed that included control over the dead. So I had the falling remnants of hands get me out of that bear trap, and while his Royal Highness was distracted by you two ballerinas, I decided to literally take a stab in the dark, and reached around and used the longest bone I could find to take him down.”

Brantley bent down to Hades side, “Huh, very intuitive.” He tried to grab the bone, but his hand went right through it. “I knew it wouldn’t kill him,” Anthony mentioned, “but I hoped it would at least buy us some time or distract him long enough to get us out of dodge.”

The three of them were looking down at Hades, he was glaring at them, writhing, and trying his best to wiggle out of his restraints. The bones were obeying well enough before with just Anthony in control, but now that Lucas was putting his power into it as well, there was very little chance Hades would get out of that on his own. Hades tried to speak through the hands covering his mouth, but it just came out as one long muffled sound.

Lucas bent down to hover above Hades. The bone Anthony had used to stab Hades was still in his chest, and Lucas pushed it in further, “I bet you’re wondering why we’re doing this. Well, as I seem to recall, you don’t care who lives or dies, it’s just a good show you want.” Hades looked at his hounds, trying to communicate what to do next, but they just stood there, one even came over and licked his face, but the bones stayed in where they were.

Lucas looked his grandfather dead in the eyes, while still hunched down, with Anthony and Brantley standing behind, “Thanks for the good show, champ.”

Anthony shouted while keeping eye contact with his dad, “επίθεση.” All five hounds pounced on Hades, and it wasn’t to cuddle up with him, while Anthony and Lucas snapped with both hands, sending all three of them topside.

#shortstory #creativewriting #Hades #underworld #fantasy #mythology #greekmythology #writing #halloween #costume #magic #blackmagic

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