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enterthesmosh · 5 years

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You ain’t no plan b (You understand me): Shayne Topp

Word Count: 1848 Summary: Shayne unexpectedly shows up.

“Is that everything or do we need to go to another store?” Shayne asked as he approached his car. Courtney hummed from beside him while she rummaged through the shopping bags hanging off of her arms. Shayne, Courtney, and Damien had been sent on a shopping excursion to get some things for an upcoming video idea that Courtney had; but the ‘quick trip to Target’ turned into a multi store adventure and now both boys were hungry and irritable.

She looked up and opened the passenger door of Shayne’s car. “Nah, we’re good.”

“Thank god.” Damien said, climbing into the back. “I’m starving. Can we get lunch before we go back to the office.”

Shayne got into the driver’s seat and started the car, heaving a sigh of relief once the cool air conditioned air hit his face. The sudden heat wave that had come to Los Angeles was insane and even the short walk from the store to his car was brutal. “Yeah, we can grab something to eat.” he agreed, pulling up his phone to look at what was nearby.

A buzzing sound from the door well compartment on the passenger side. Courtney made a confused sound and patted around until she pulled out a cell phone that definitely did not belong to anyone in the car currently.

“Shayne, whose phone is this? It’s a cute case.” She said, turning it over in her hands.

It took a second for Shayne to comprehend exactly what she asked but when he looked up, he felt his heart beat a little faster. “Oh, damn.” He mumbled, reaching out to take it from her. The screen lit up and he saw messages that he had sent earlier in the day on display. “Damien, man, lunch is gonna have to wait a little while longer.” He said as he put the phone in a cupholder and putting on his seatbelt.

Damien audibly groaned from his spot in the backseat.

Shayne pulled out of the parking lot and after a moment, feeling her stare, he glanced to look at Courtney. “What?” he asked.

“Where are we going? Whose phone do you mysteriously have in your car?”

Shayne sighed and lifted a hand to gently push the hat on his head back slightly. He hadn't intended to have this conversation like this. “It’s… it’s my girlfriend’s phone and she left it in here last night so we are going to give it back.” he explained in a rush, eyes staring straight at the road ahead of him.

Damien made a question sound, “I beg your unbelievable pardon?”

“Your what?” Courtney asked, voice slightly higher and usual.

He didn’t want to answer. Part of him was yelling at himself for even starting this, but he knew that if Y/N didn’t have her phone by the time lunch rolled around for her, she’d be a nervous wreck. “My girlfriend.” he said simply, shrugging one shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Courtney twisting in her seat to look back at Damien while both of them made incredulous sounds, trying to find the words they were looking for. It seemed, that Damien had regained his ability to speak faster than Courtney. He leaned forward and placed a hand on the side of Shayne’s seat, staring at his profile.

“Who is this girl? Why have you never mentioned her?”

Courtney reached over and slapped Shayne on the bicep with the back of her hand, “How long have you been dating?”

Shayne groaned as he pulled off the right exit, hands gripping the steering wheel harder. “I have mentioned her just… not in this context. You remember that girl I told you about? That I met at the gym? She was wearing the ‘Turning my small might into All Might’ tank top?” he started, catching Damien’s eyes in the rear view mirror. Damien nodded his head.

“Right, well, we always work out at the same times and we just kind of started talking and hanging out and… I don’t know. She’s sweet, and funny, and a huge fucking dork.” Shayne laughed in spite of himself.

Damien was quiet for just a moment, “You mentioned this girl months ago.”

“You’ve been dating her for months?!” Courtney exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because you’d do this.” Shayne shot back. He sighed and shook his head. They were getting closer to where Y/N worked and he was starting to feel unbelievably anxious. “I liked having something private for a while. I was going to tell you, and introduce you, but we’re still getting to know each other and I wanted to wait before I threw Y/N to the lunatic wolves that are my friends.”

Courtney and Damien were quiet for a bit; Damien slid back and relaxed again in his seat. Shayne turned into a parking lot and sighed as he parked his car near the entrance of the building. “This is a preschool.” Courtney stated, leaning forward to read the sign above the door. Shayne nodded and shut off the car.

“She’s an after school teacher here during the school year, and she does camp during the summer.” he explained as he grabbed Y/N’s phone, shoving it into his pocket.

Before he could say or do anything else, both Courney and Damien had unbuckled their seat belts and were out of the car. Shayne closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and got out as well. He didn’t say a word but headed for the front door, his friends falling into step with him. At the door, Shayne pressed the doorbell button on the number pad. A loud clunking sound came from the double doors, signalling that they’d been unlocked.

Shayne opened the door and stepped into the front area of the building, smiling at the women seated behind the desk. “Hey, Shayne.” The taller of the two women greeted. Shayne nodded and grabbed a pen to sign in on the visitor’s log. “Hi, Kati. Hi, Jackie.” he replied, sliding the binder over and handing the pen to Damien.

“Does Y/N know you’re here?” Kati asked.

“No. She left something in my car and I’ve gotta give it to her. Is she in her room?” he asked.

Jackie looked up from her computer and shook her head, “No. Last I saw, they were headed outside.”

Shayne nodded and looked over to see Courtney finishing signing herself in. “Oh, this is Damien and Courtney. We’ll be quick.” he said. Courtney and Damien waved at the women who did the same in return.

“Well, you know the way,” Kati said, going back to her work.

Taking a deep breath, Shayne nodded and motioned for his friends to follow him. He lead them through another set of double doors and down a hallway. Down the hall there were the sounds of babies crying, soft music playing, and adults talking. As they got closer to the door that leads to the playground that connected to Y/N’s classroom, they could hear children screaming.

Shayne pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by the sight of ten kids running around in their bathing suits. They had buckets and water balloons as they chased each other through the playground. He looked over and spotted Y/N in shorts and a tank top holding a hose and spraying the kids who got too close to her.

“She’s cute.” He heard Courtney say from behind him which just made him laugh.

One of the kids spotted them and stopped in their tracks, “Mr. Shayne!”

The call of his name caught Y/N’s attention and her head whipped around to see him standing there. A bright smile immediately found its place on her lips. “Hey, Ben, what’s up?” he laughed as he walked around the sidewalk towards the gate in the fence that closed off the playground. Y/N shook her head and stepped closer to the gate as well to greet him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked. She paused slightly, seeing the people behind Shayne. “Oh, Hi!”

“Hi, I’m Courtney, this is Damien.” Courtney introduced happily.

“Y/N. Nice to finally meet you.” Y/N smiled before looking back at Shayne.

He was staring at her for a moment, just taking her in. The smile on her face, the way the sun hit her, how she looked drenched in water but still so cute. He came back to the moment and leaned on the top of the fence with his arms. “You left your phone in my car so I brought it to you.” He answered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the phone for her to see.

“Oh sh-shoot,” Y/N laughed. One of the kids ran up to her with an empty bucket, so she turned to fill it back up with the hose in her hand. “Thank you, Shayne.” She said, looking back at him with a wide smile that seemingly took up her whole face.

Shayne nodded, “I’ll put it in your closet in your room.”

“Thank you.” She said again before the kids grabbed her attention again.

Shayne, Damien, and Courtney stood there for a moment and just watched her run off with some of the kids, spraying them and laughing loudly. Suddenly, Shayne had an idea. “Hey, Jack,” Shayne called to one of the boys walking past. He had paid more than enough visits to learn the names of the summer campers and they all loved him dearly.

“Let me see your bucket.” He grinned. “I’m gonna dump it on Ms. Y/N.”

The boy didn’t need any more convincing and he immediately handed the bucket of water over to Shayne. He turned and handed his phone, as well as Y/N’s, over to Courtney. Both Damien and Courtney laughed softly as Shayne opened the gate and snuck into the playground. He crept up behind Y/N but one of the little girls spotted him.

“Ms. Y/N, look out!”

Y/N turned but was too slow and Shayne upended the water over her head. However, he wasn’t fast enough either and got hit in the chest with the hose. He let out one of his Shayne screams and wrapped his arms around Y/N in a hug before letting go and running off to rejoin his friends. “I’m going to get you back, Shayne!” Y/N shouted at him.

Shayne laughed and waved as he opened the back door to Y/N’s classroom and lead his friends inside. The cold A/C on his wet skin made him shiver but he made his way over to the closet and unlocked the door. Courtney handed him the phone and he placed it on a shelf with Y/N’s other belongings.

“So.” Damien started as Shayne shut the closet door. “She seems nice.”

Courtney laughed, “Yeah, for sure.”

Shayne took his hat off his head and ruffled his hair as they exited the room and made their way back up to the front.

“Yeah… she’s pretty great.”

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nelvana · 4 years

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In which there is one last break

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the dreams are nightmares Previous: In which there are no anomalies

“They… are still here.” Ceebee was the first to speak up after Primal Palkia had left, ending the battle without a true winner. “They’re deeper in the cave, like Dialga is.”

“Should we go right after them, then?” Tsuki questioned, shaking out her fur, sending some dirt scattering. “They are… primal now, right? We… should deal with that as soon as we can.”

“M-Maybe we should take a break first,” Edgar suggested, slowly creeping back out from the shadows to join the others.

“I agree with Edgar. We’re in no condition to go right back to fighting them,” Damien responded.

Tsuki sighed, “that is true, but we should not stay long. We do not want them to be causing more damage now that they’ve fully turned primal.”

“Of course,” Alex agreed, then after waiting a few moments to see if anyone else would say anything, he darted over to his partner. “Nel! You evolved! That was amazing!” he exclaimed.

Nelvana gave him a shaky smile, “wow you’re shorter than me now, this is so weird.”

Alex laughed, “you’ve been taller than me before!” he pointed out.

“Not like this!” Nelvana replied, “this… is actually really trippy, I… I didn’t realize I was evolving until it happened, I- oomph!”

She was cut off as a warm bundle of feathers barreled into her. Unlike Alex, who had stopped at a respectable distance to give his partner some space, Keahi had sprinted from across the room to dive in and give her a hug. Once realizing what hit her and who it was, Nelvana reached out to return the hug, picking up the torchic to properly wrap her arms around zim.

“Nel! I was so worried when you took that hit and didn’t come back right away but then you did come back except we couldn’t say anything to each other because of the battle, but now you’re evolved and-“

“I love you too, Keahi,” Nelvana hummed, cutting off her partner’s rambles.

Taking a moment to catch zir breath, Keahi leaned up to bump zir head against Nelvana’s, the two taking this small moment together to relax themselves again.

“How do you feel?” Keahi asked.

“I… I’ll need to get back to you on that one, I’m still processing everything,” Nelvana admitted with a weak chuckle. “This is probably the strangest day of my life. And that’s… saying a lot.”

“Hey, how about everyone sit down over here, a bit further away from all that damage, and we can talk things through?” Damien suggested, gesturing over to an area deeper into the cave.

Nelvana smiled at him, “yeah, that’s probably for the best,” she agreed, and then looked back down at the torchic in her arms. “You’re so tiny now!”

Keahi giggled, “you just got really tall! Hey, can I sit on your head? You must have a nice view from up there.”

Complying to her partner’s request as they walked over with the rest of the group to sit down, Nelvana placed Keahi atop her head, the torchic fitting in the space between her ears perfectly now. Keahi giggled again, letting out some “oohs” and “ahhs” despite there not really being much to look at, even at that height.

Sitting down in a circle together, everyone took this time to breath for a couple minutes and check how they felt once adrenaline wore off. Keahi hopped off of Nelvana’s head, but only to settle zirself onto her lap instead. Alex and Damien sat down beside each other, emptying out their bags to sort through the remaining supplies. As Alex shook out his bag, there was the clatter of stones tumbling onto the floor; Giratina’s rock, a fire gem, and that stone from Lapis Cave. Damien eyed the blue crystal momentarily, peeking over at the similar one he still carried around in his own back. Alex chuckled at the latter item before scooping it up and stuffing it back in the bag, but his hand hovered over the fire gem.

“Oh hey, I almost forgot, Keahi, I’ve been hanging onto the fire gem Ceebee gave you for your birthday. Do you want it now?” Alex commented, picking up the small crystal.

“I guess so!” Keahi decided, “There will probably be a time I’ll want to use flamethrower for the range again. Better at least get one boost out of it.”

“Can’t think of a scenario you’ll need it more for anyway,” Tsuki added with a yawn, “there isn’t really anyone that will be stronger than Primal Palkia, I figure.”

“Well, you never know, but I could always get another fire gem for if something like that comes up,” Keahi responded.

Meanwhile, as Alex handed the fire gem over to Keahi, Damien leaned over to pick up the other stone, brushing off some of the dirt with one thumb as he turned it over a couple times in his hands.

“Hey, Giratina, we have a moment to be able to talk again,” he said.

“…the battle’s over?” Giratina’s voice faded in, sounding mildly hesitant.

“Sort of,” Alex answered, turning his focus back to sorting through the rest of the items.

“…I see. I can… sense Palkia still from here,” Giratina murmured, “are you all okay? I can sense that you’re all here… Oh, Nelvana! Did you evolve?”

Nelvana let out a mix of a chuckle and a sigh, “yeah, I did. Happened right at the end of the fight.”

“Well, congratulations! I can tell that is… difficult to pull off in these current times. We’ll need all the extra strength we can get, know that…” Giratina paused. “I am sensing that correctly, right? Palkia is… primal now.”

“Unfortunately, yes. We were unable to defeat them before it happened, and they ran off right afterwards,” Ceebee told them.

“Why did they leave though?” Edgar questioned quietly, “I thought they were still going to fight us, but they just… went further into the cave, like Ceebee said.”

“Now that they’re primal, their instinct is to stay that way. Survival is now the top priority. They must have felt threatened by you all, and didn’t think they would be able to win the fight in that moment,” Giratina explained, “they also instinctively want to be at the center of their home, like how Dialga always stayed at Temporal Tower, Palkia now hides here.”

“They felt threatened, huh? We might stand more of a chance than we thought,” Alex commented, grinning slightly.

“Yes! Please, do not lose hope! I still have the upmost faith that you will be able to defeat them, even if they are primal now. You went into that fight without the chance to recover after a mystery dungeon. Now you have that chance. Recover, and go out to rematch Palkia,” Giratina responded.

“That’s the plan!” Keahi chirped, “thanks for the encouragement!”

“No problem. I only wish I could do more to help,” Giratina replied, “if you have anything to ask me, just let me know. In the meantime… I do not wish to disturb your break. I will check to see if there is… anything I can do from here to assist you more. Perhaps with the fabric of space tearing more, I may find an opening to provide more assistance. We’ll see. Best of luck to you either way.”

With that, Giratina’s presence faded from the rock once more. Letting out a sigh, Damien set the rock back down on the ground, closer towards the middle of the seated circle everyone was forming together before turning back to help Alex with inventory.

Keahi leaned back while still sitting on Nelvana’s lap, zir back touching her chest and zir head feathers grazing the marowak’s chin. Zie quietly fumbled with the fire gem for a few moments, furrowing zir brows as zie thought of something, and then looked up at zir partner, opening zir beak to speak and break the growing silence in the group.

“What did it feel like, to evolve?” zie asked her.

“It…” Nelvana paused, furrowing her brows as she did her best to recall the short moment. “I felt like a had a lot of energy, like when you use an attack, except just all over me.”

“Did it hurt?” Edgar chimed in.

Nelvana quickly shook her head, “no, it didn’t hurt. It felt more like… kinda like being stretched? But it didn’t hurt, and I could still feel myself getting stronger. I feel… kind of lightheaded though now, actually.”

“That’s normal,” Alex reassured her, “here you should probably have something to eat. Your body both burned through a lot of energy, and created new energy for yourself,” he explained, passing the marowak an apple to eat.

“Is that why you went to sleep right after evolving, despite talking about how energized you felt?” Nelvana asked him as she accepted the food, without thinking.

“Yeah! That’s pretty… much… Wait.” Alex looked up at Nelvana properly, eyes wide as a smile grew on his face. “I forgot you don’t have amnesia anymore,” he whispered to himself.

“I… Yeah, I don’t,” Nelvana murmured back, taking a bite out of the apple to give herself an excuse not to say anything else at the moment.

Alex paused, his smile fading, “do you not want to talk about that right now? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I just… I do but I don’t,” Nelvana sighed, “let’s just… not for now, and I’ll bring it up later when I’m ready, okay? Maybe when I’m done eating this apple.”

He nodded back, “got it.”

“Evolution is still a safe topic, let’s stick with that. Hey, Damien, how did you evolve?” Nelvana said, shifting the subject back to what they had been talking about before.

“Oh, uh… nothing special, really,” Damien mumbled, “I didn’t like… being a gastly, so I did everything I could to evolve into a haunter. Then I evolved right away into a Gengar, since I got a link cable in advance as a gastly,” he explained, “makes me feel the most like myself to actually have arms and legs.”

“Hey, speaking of having hands, maybe I’ll be able to evolve after this! Or during our next fight with Palkia!” Keahi chirped, “that would be cool! Do you think I’d be taller, or shorter than you, Nel?”

“Well, I was taller than you even as a cubone, so I’m going to guess that you’ll still be shorter than me when you’re a combusken,” Nelvana answered, “Alex is a bit taller than most of the combuskens at your home, and I’ll taller than him right now too,” she added.

“Excuse me, apologies for interrupting…” Tsuki spoke up, “do we still have some water packed? I’m quite thirsty,” she requested, looking over at the pair with the two bags.

“Oh, yeah! That’s one thing we really aren’t low on,” Damien responded, “here, everyone should probably have some water while we’re taking a break, actually. Stay hydrated and all that jazz.”

Pausing from their previous conversation, they passed out some water bottles to everyone to drink. Fortunately, between restocking back at the guild, and being restored to an earlier state from Dialga before, not much water had been used, like Damien said, so they were able to drink as much as they wanted now. And though they had less food readily available than water, after Dusknoir pointed out that they likely wouldn’t have another break like this until everything was over, they decided to lighten the bags a bit and dish out the remainder of the food to everyone to fill themselves up before what would, hopefully, be the final confrontation.

“…hey, Alex? Do you think you would have been shorter or taller than me, when you were a treecko compared to when I was a cubone?” Nelvana suddenly asked after the lull of conversation during everyone eating.

Alex blinked over at her, “oh… I dunno! It feels like ages ago since I was a treecko… I came up to about your knee then, but we can’t exactly use that to compare now.”

“What did Alex look like as a treecko?” Keahi blurted out, then stiffening slightly and looking up at zir partner to make sure it was okay to ask that now, still uncertain if Nelvana was ready to talk about what she remembered now that she didn’t have amnesia.

Despite Keahi’s worries, Nelvana smiled back to zim. Truthfully, she still felt uncertain treading this conversation territory, but she knew now that she would need to address it sooner rather than later. She was just thankful that for now they could stick to some easier topics relating to that.

“He was this tiny boy, with big eyes,” Nelvana began, her voice squeaking as her tone turned to teasing her partner. “You see how sharp he is now? He was rounder before, rounder shapes. He had a rounder face, round little hands, and-“

“No, stop!” Alex howled, though he couldn’t stop himself from laughing either. “My image is being ruined! Betrayed by my own sister!”

Keahi laughed, “you’re reminding me of my mom when she gets an excuse to talk about what her kids were like when they were young!”

“Isn’t that why you asked?” Nelvana responded, sporting a wide grin on her face. “I did my best to tease him as much as I could, did I do well?”

“…” Keahi grinned back, “yeah.”

Alex let out a mock gasp, “I knew it from the start, you’re both conspiring against me.”

“Aww, now I wish I got to see you as a treecko!” Ceebee chimed in, leaning forward and placing her chin into the palms of her hands. “I bet you were adorable.”

“Alright, alright, the joke has worn out its welcome now…” Alex announced, raising his hands up slightly in front of himself.

“Fine.” Keahi stuck her tongue out at him playfully, but seemed otherwise willing to drop the subject. “What about you, Nel? What did you look like as a human?”

“Oh! Well, I… hm, I’m not sure how to describe that, since most of you know what the average human looks like,” Nelvana responded, starting out ready to answer the question before trailing off towards the end, furrowing her brows.

“You’ve tried drawing yourself before!” Keahi offered, “I have a vague idea ‘cause of that.”

“Think kind of like… a sawk for the build, except without the blue skin and robes of course, they have hair on their heads…” Alex described.

“That’s a terrible description,” Nelvana snorted.

“Bet you can’t do any better.”

“Too bad we can’t draw that here. The ground is too firm, Nel couldn’t even use her club for that,” Damien commented.

“I’m not sure how well I can use my club to draw anymore anyway,” Nelvana replied, picking up her club which she had set down by her side to hold it out in front of her to examine more with a small frown.

“I think we all have a vague idea, with Nel’s old drawings and Alex’s description,” Tsuki said, “if you wish to still go on with your own description of yourself; I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

“If not, we can wait!” Edgar added, “I’m sure stuff like this will be easier to draw when we get home anyway!”

“Ah, alright, well let’s see… I still had blue eyes then, and my hair, which was brown, a bit darker than my fur here, was cut pretty short. Some humans grow their hair out longer, but not that often, at least in the dead timeline; it got tangled in everything,” Nelvana told them, “I had pretty light colored skin, kinda light peachy color… And I was pretty tall.”

“And by ‘pretty tall’, she means nearly six feet tall!” Ceebee exclaimed, “Alex would sit on her shoulder when we were just casually walking around.”

“Wait no, before anyone comments about how tall that is, how tall were you exactly?” Damien demanded, jolting up from where he was still sitting.

“Oh, uh…” Nelvana’s face scrunched up as she thought. “Jeez, I dunno. Not like I got many chances to measure myself.”

“I’d put your human height around five feet ten inches,” Ceebee decided, “I think you were done growing before we went back in time too, so that should be fairly accurate.”

“Dammit!” Damien snapped, tossing his hands into the air. “I would have been shorter than you.”

Nelvana laughed, “how tall were you?”

“I wanna say five feet six inches,” Damien sighed, “I might have had another growth spurt in me, since I can’t tell off the top of my head if that was my height when I was thirteen or when I was fully grown.”

“You could ask Gardevoir when we get back,” Tsuki suggested, “she might remember.”

“Maybe… Don’t wanna get my hopes up though,” Damien murmured, turning back to focus on the remainder of his work with Alex.

“How are you two doing over there, anyway?” Keahi asked, turning over to the bag holding duo. “What’s our inventory looking like?”

“Are you ready for us to return our water bottles as well?” Tsuki chimed in, one paw curled around the now empty bottle she had drunken from.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead and pass them over, they won’t be in the way,” Alex responded, waving towards the others to encourage them to give back the items.

Taking a quick moment before addressing Keahi’s questions, everyone tossed, rolled, or passed over their water bottles; of which nearly all were now emptied. Edgar was one who passed his over, and as he passed by the center of the circle, he floated down to pick up Giratina’s rock as well, sensing them nearing the end of their break, and likely not needing to speak to Giratina if they weren’t going to in this moment. Passing both items over to the grovyle, Edgar silently floated back over to where he had been laying down before beside Tsuki.

“Alright, so we’re looking at a slight oran shortage… We still have enough reviver seeds because of how many we got in the guild, those should last just fine. And then all other berries and seeds we have not really used at all, we haven’t suffered from any status effects in these fights,” Alex told everyone, waving a hand over the items laying out on the ground. “We’ll split all the items between us, any odd number extras going to Damien. I’ll hang onto Giratina again… and I think that’s it?”

“That’s the important details, yeah,” Damien agreed, nodding.

“So… does that mean we will be going after Palkia next?” Tsuki asked, sitting up and looking over the rest of the group.

“Well, we still need to put this back away but otherwise…” Alex answered, trailing off as he too looked up at everyone else. “…if everyone is ready now, I don’t see any reason we should sit back any longer.”

“If everyone is ready,” Damien repeated.

Keahi nodded, “yeah! I think I’m okay to go to the fight, as ready as I’ll ever be at least, but if anyone isn’t, don’t be afraid to speak up! We can wait a few more minutes to make sure that everyone will be prepared and comfortable enough to head back out,” zie hummed.

There were some nods and quiet responses of confirmation and agreement before the conversation faded out only having the sounds of Alex and Damien picking up various items and organizing them in the bags to break any silence. Edgar bobbed up and down in place for a couple moments before going to offer to help the pair, and when told “thanks, but we can handle it,” he settled for hovering over them to watch instead. Every so often Alex would relay a packing tip to Damien, but the rest of the group didn’t say much in these last moments.

Or, at least it seemed it would be that way. Nelvana sat in the silence, her mind running in circles as she stewed with a choice. This would be a chance to address something, but it was challenging to form the words in her mouth and then actually have them spoken aloud. She reached for her club again, which she had set down not long earlier to toss Alex her and Keahi’s water bottles before. Rubbing over the now nearly smooth bone with a thumb as she thought, which soon just turned to her gripping the item tightly. Keahi, still sitting in her lap, frowned as zie watched this, zir feather’s ruffled as Nelvana hunched over zim.

“Are you alright?” Keahi whispered, placing a wing on zir partner’s arm.

“I…” Nelvana swallowed her breath. “No, there’s… something I need to talk about,” she said, her voice growing louder and clearer as she sat up again, drawing attention back to her.

“What is it?” Ceebee asked earnestly.

Nelvana paused for a couple moments, rolling the words over in her mouth one last time.

“When Palkia… broke that part of the curse, I didn’t just remember my past before getting amnesia,” Nelvana began, rolling the club over in her hands now, staring at it to focus on what she was saying instead of on the others around her. “I remember what happened after we were erased from time, too.”

Alex glanced up from his work, a mix of emotion flickering in his eyes, “are you saying that as a good thing, or a bad thing…?” he questioned.

“I don’t know. Maybe both,” Nelvana answered, “what… happened in general wasn’t that bad. We were in… some part of the spirit realm, obviously not one I’ve been in before. We met up, and found that everyone else from our time was there too. In some sort of, uh, limbo, I guess,” she explained.

“Like a lobby?” Damien asked, biting his lip as he hoped his input would be more helpful than not.

“Sure,” Nelvana responded, “and we decided to wander a bit while we waited for Gardevoir or someone helping Gardevoir to come find us. You know, say some final goodbyes to old friends and whatnot while we had the chance.”

“Did you have your memories back when you were in that moment?” Tsuki asked.

“No, but it was the thought that counted. Alex and Ceebee would remember, and could fill me in about who it was we were about to talk to,” Nelvana answered.

“You did mention before that you were good at recognizing familiar people, even with amnesia,” Alex added.

“Yeah, that too.” Nelvana paused. “We… We didn’t find my family there, though.”

As she went to look up, to stop staring just at her own weapon, she saw Dusknoir tense from across her. Whether he had pieced together that she knew what happened to her family or not, it was evident by this strangely obvious display from him that he knew what happened. Out of the corner of Nelvana’s eye, she saw the light from Edgar’s eye darken, though she didn’t think much of it; if he knew, it wouldn’t surprise her that much, and she wouldn’t blame him for not telling her before.

“Dusknoir, why did you kill my family?”

Her question, though her voice was quiet, spoke louder than any yell in this moment, the intensity of such a question paired with the already generally silent room made these words pierce true and clear.

Dusknoir tensed more, eye widening at the question being so suddenly and bluntly stated to him, nailing him onto the spot like a wooden plank onto the flooring of a house. Instantly Nelvana’s words, drew everyone to stare at Dusknoir as well, waiting impatiently for his answer. Despite this, he appeared far too stunned to say anything right away, so Nelvana went on.

“We didn’t find my family there, but we found you. You told me that you killed them, trying to use that fact as a leverage against me.” It was becoming a struggle to keep her own words steady by this point, but she pushed on. “So, now I ask, why? Just because they’re related to me? They didn’t do anything against you, or your cause!”

The long, tense seconds drew on without any response from Dusknoir. Nelvana was gripping her club so tightly now that her hands shook, but she kept her gaze trained on the ghost-type, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“I…”

Dusknoir almost seemed to choke as he tried to speak, his body shuddering. He turned to look away, breaking any previous eye contact with Nelvana to face the ground instead, eye closed tightly. He shook again, and then blinked his eye open suddenly as, to everyone’s surprise, inky black tears dripped out of his eye, slowly trailing down his face. Reaching up a hand, he gingerly touched one of the tears, leaving a dark, wet mark on his finger.

“I can cry…?” he whispered, the astonishment clear in his voice.

He paused for a couple more moments, staring at his hand with a wide eye as he cried for the first time; at least, the first time in an incredibly long time. Suddenly though, his gaze narrowed, and he closed his hand into a fist, lifting it up to wipe away the rest of the tears with the back of his hand. Dusknoir rose to his full height, looking back down at Nelvana, who still stared back up at him.

“No, that… isn’t right of me. This is not my loss, my grief, my right to cry, it is yours,” Dusknoir said, “Nelvana, I killed your family for no reason at all. I grew desperate and frustrated after Cee- Celebi escaped my clutches, and I sought for any way to get back at you all. That is no excuse though. How I felt was no excuse for any such actions. What I did was an absolutely horrible thing, and I am deeply sorry that I did that. You are right, they did nothing to earn such a punishment, to rob them of… the choice of where to go, whatever choice there is, after being erased from time.”

Nelvana blinked, though did her best to hide her surprise at such a response as she narrowed her eyes back at him again. Again, he seemed in every way to being honest, and yet she couldn’t help but have her doubts.

“Really? You’re really sorry?” she questioned, unable to keep the bite back from her voice.

He nodded, “yes, I am. And it is alright if you do not believe me. At the end of the day… I did terrible things to you, to all… to all of you. I wanted to save myself so badly that I harmed so many lives, and there is truly nothing I can do to make up for that. But I would still like to try. I have seen now why you fought so hard to bring this timeline back to life, why you still fight now, even at the risk of your own lives. This is a time worth fighting for, and really… I don’t deserve to be a part of it. So, I truly wish to do whatever I can to make up for the harm I did in the other timeline, and make it so I do deserve to be here,” he told them, “so, yes, I am really sorry. And not just to you, Nelvana, but to Grovyle and Celebi as well. I am sorry. You have every right to hate me, but if there is anything I can do to help more, I will do my best to complete it.”

Dusknoir bowed his head slightly to them, silently signifying that he was done with what he had to say. He remained standing up, though he bobbed in place for a moment as if considering sitting back down again. There still seemed to be some tears welled up in his eye, but they didn’t drip out again.

Silence returned as it was now the others’ turn to figure out how to respond. Ceebee had her arms crossed over her chest, mouth closed in a pencil thin line as she fluttered in place in the air. Alex’s lips curled back into a snarl, crouched close to a more quadruped stance as he still sharply glared at Dusknoir. Nelvana still gripped her club tightly, finding herself staring back down at it again as she mulled this over. Eventually, she let out a sigh, releasing her grip on the bone slightly and sitting back up straight again.

“You are right about one thing; I don’t think I can forgive you. And I think I safely speak for Alex and Ceebee when I say that they cannot either,” Nelvana began, “however… I am going to have to give you the benefit of the doubt, and hope that you are telling the truth about how you feel now. Frankly… I’m still processing everything that I was forced to remember all of a sudden. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t think it would do any of us any good for me to hate you over something that cannot be changed. I don’t know how much I can trust you, but at least for now, we still need to cooperate. And it would probably hurt me more than help to be thinking about this endlessly and hating you at every moment. So, no, I do not forgive you for what you’ve done. But I’m willing to see what you can do to become better,” she told him.

Dusknoir visibly relaxed, as if weights had been removed from his shoulders, “thank you.”

Ceebee bit her lip, and then exhaled, turning to face Dusknoir, “I’ll think about it,” she said, “for now… you’re still just a temporary ally to me, and an enemy at the end of the day. I’ll want to really see change before I can believe in what you’re saying.”

Dusknoir nodded to this, accepting such an answer without any complaints.

Eyes turned to Alex next, who still didn’t seem to show any signs of giving his own answer yet. In fact, as he felt the stares on him, he sharply turned away from the group, from Dusknoir, and staring back down at the bags and the remaining unpacked items. Letting out a sharp hiss through his teeth, he grabbed the remaining items and shoved them back into his bag, slinging the satchel over his shoulder, all without turning to look at anyone else again.

Time continued to drag on, until it became undeniably clear that Alex wasn’t going to give any sort of answer at all, which turned out to be the loudest answer of all. Nelvana’s gaze softened as she stared at the back of her brooding partner. She wasn’t sure where to go from here. It was important for her to speak and leave things dealt with for now, but what difference would it make for him if he were forced to speak up? He needed more time, she figured, and he gave her time to think before, so she was going to make sure to give him the same curtesy.

“Is everything packed then, Alex and Damien?” Nelvana asked, abruptly changing subjects.

Slowly, Alex turned to look back at his partner, his hardened expression fading into something more relieved at being released from having to respond to the previous conversation. Still, it was Damien who answered her first.

“I think so. We should be all packed and ready for the fight now,” he answered.

Alex nodded slowly, “yeah… So, if everyone is ready, we should go now.”

“I’m ready now,” Nelvana replied, knowing that it was her that hadn’t been ready before, and thus now confirming that she was would be helpful.

And, despite everything, everyone else was ready too. At least, as ready as they would be.

Everyone standing up, Ceebee directed them onwards to Palkia, even though there were no diverging paths to possibly get someone lost. There was only one way forward, and they headed out.

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which the dreams are nightmares Previous: In which there are no anomalies

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fandom-meanderer · 5 years

Text

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Pt. 6]

Not Your Classic Vigilante

Pairing: Batfamily x Reader

Part: (6/?) [First] [Previous] [Next]

Genre: General Fiction

Fandom: DC Universe

P.o.V.: 3rd

Word Count: 1,035 Words

Warnings: None

Further Notes: Sorry if this is a bland chapter, things will definitely get more heated in the next one! (also tag listtttt)

—

“So she doesn’t remember dying, at all,” Dick restated. Alfred nods.

“She believes that it had only been two months.”

“She told me that she woke up in a surgical room,” Jason huffs. “And that two guys got her out, then she ran into me. On a roof top.”

“What?”

“Well I’m assuming the guys that were shooting at her were trying to get her back in the lab,” Jason shrugs. “Shit, she really doesn’t know what’s going on, huh?”

“How are we going to break it to her?” Dick furrows his eyebrows and paces around slowly.

“You’re all overthinking this, we just have to tell her,” Damien points out.

“Wait, tell who what?” Duke inquires. He walks into the cave after parking his motorcycle and looks amongst the group of concerned boys. Alfred nods his head slightly.

“Welcome home, Master Duke.”

“Hey, Alfred. Oh, and who’s the chick upstairs? She’s cute.”

“Our sister,” Jason glared. Duke went pale.

“You mean, that sister?” He asks. “The one that was, you know, dismembered,” he whispered the final word.

“Don’t remind me,” Dick sighs. Duke frowns.

“Sorry, sorry, she just didn’t look very, um, separated,” he continues.

“I suggest you stop talking, Thomas,” Damien crosses his arms. “We should explain to her what happened.”

“You already said that,” Tim says.

“I guess we really don’t have a choice, and we can’t wait for Bruce either, I think that he would be the last person (Name) would want to see.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Dick nods his head. “Let’s go break it to her.”

(Name) stood by the mantle in a silent thought. Her hands brushed over the dark wood and came to a stop by a picture of herself, about seven years ago based on the regrettably rainbow braces and the giant framed glasses. She picked it up delicately, her mind drifting back to those simpler times. However, just as quickly, her mind switched to the drastic times.

It hasn’t been easy, after the incident.

(Name) Wayne had woken up in a world unfamiliar to her, the grassy plains, the clear blue skies, and the reflective waters just seemed too perfect. Too different. Different from the barren wastelands, the smoggy atmosphere, and the murky waters. Different from home.

And to be frank, it terrified her.

Her hands moved up to her shoulders to rub them gently, then her thighs, her chest, and finally her neck. All in one piece.

Something was wrong, something had to be up. Was it the Scarecrow’s doing? Was she hallucinating?

Turns out, the new land she was in was very much real. Just as real as the scars around her neck and body, just as real as her still beating heart, and just as real as the events that transpired before. Every now and then, (Name) would feel a ghost pain of the terrors she had experienced before her second chance. She would rub the scars gently and curse herself for thinking of the long past incident.

The stories are true, she did ascend the ranks and she did so quickly but naught without cost. The pains and the suffering she went through, all started by one person.

The person she used to adore, and now the person she loathed. He ruined her life, she wasted so much time on a lost cause of a goal, and that made her bitter. It made her cruel, she learned that she could truly only rely on herself.

But still, she had those days. Those days when all she wished was to stay in bed and cry as the pains and the images overwhelmed her. She never could truly forget the feeling of hands grabbing at her from all sides, the agonizing pain of the knife dragging across her appendages, or the brutality of forced desires. Who could?

But where were they?

Gotham’s protectors?

Not there.

And because of that, (Name) Wayne finished her transition into Captain Wayne. That much was clear.

(Name) placed the picture frame back on the mantle as her brothers returned to the main room. She put on a smile and turned to them.

“Done excluding me?” She teases.

“You died,” Jason blurted. Damien shot him a ‘What the hell?’ face while Dick’s jaw drops. Tim whistles awkwardly and Duke nods slowly with wide eyes.

“I… I what…? I died? What do you mean?” (Name) stood up and walked towards them slowly. “I don’t remember that. Shouldn’t I remember something like dying? Jason did. Why don’t I? Wait, what does that mean? Am I still human? Am I evil? This is too much.”

“No, no, just stay calm, (Name),” Dick reassures. He walks over to her and rests his hands on her shoulders.

“How’d I die? Where’s your proof?” (Name)’s voice shook as her eyes began to tear up slightly. Dick looked back at Jason, who just shook his head gently.

“I really don’t think you want to know, little wing,” Dick frowns. (Name)’s expression tensed slightly at her old nickname.

“And I really think I deserve to know, Richard,” (Name) stood taller and looked up at her older brother. “Well?”

Oh, but they didn’t have to tell her.

(Name) remembered all too well. But Alex would be very disappointed in her if she skinned her brothers alive now, so best not do that.

“Just like always, I don’t know why I bother,” (Name) shook her head. “I’m going home.”

“(Name) wait!” Dick steps in front of her.

“What now?”

“Well… since you died… well your house isn’t your house anymore. It’s best that you stay here with us.” He looks her in the eye and (Name) felt her heart break. But just as fast as it broke, it hardened once again.

“Oh, alright then,” she mumbles. “Is my room still the same?”

“We didn’t have the heart to clean it out,” Alfred said behind her. (Name) nodded slightly and walked up the stairs.

‘Bravo,’ Alex’s voice rang in her head.

‘Shut up, this is fucking painful,’ (Name) grimaces as she walks up the stairs. ‘Just do what you need to do and I’ll grab the files from my dad’s computer.’

‘Naturally, just try not to lose your cool.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

Tag List: @loxbbg @holymotherofchickennoodlesoup@ijustwannabecanadian @oneshots-galore @xapham @peqchynero @sono-sakana

#Batman #Batfamily #Batfamily x Reader #Batsis #Batfamily x Batsis #dc universe #reader #Reader Insert

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resetmypatientviolence · 5 years

Text

Just As Planned (Drake x MC x Liam x Damien) [Mature]

Pairing: Drake x Jaela x Liam x Damien. Poly AU.

Word Count: 6,054

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Mature Content under the cut, Foursome

Song Accompaniment: S & M-- Rihanna

Description: Damien Nazario, after spying on the trio, is invited into their home. After all, what’s the best way to convince somebody not to turn you into whoever you’re spying against with a little... persuasion?

Author Note: Happy Thirsty Thursday! God, I missed them. En-fucking-joy. My neck hurts. Aesthetic made by @trr-fangirl! Other Poly adventures are found on my Masterlist, in the description of my blog.

The fireplace crackles and she smoothes down the front of her black silk robe. Drake and Liam stop talking, watching her nervous habit. Drake chuckles, catching her hand. She looks up, a smile creeping on her face, nerves settling. Always. Liam leans down, kissing her cheek. “Nervous, love?” he asks, grazing those full lips along her skin, up to her hair, half twisted up, the rest falling down her mid back, blending with the robe that Drake loves because of how it dips low and barely covers anything.

Jaela leans into Liam’s touch, Drake’s dark eyes falling to her breasts, cleavage on display. She’s wet, already, when she meets his look, heavy—yearning—wanting. His hand runs down her back, down the curve of her ass he never fails to admire, and flirt with the hem, brushing the warm skin. There’s nothing under there. They all agreed that there was no need for anything, no matter how good she looked in lingerie.

They doubted he’d notice it, anyways.

“No touching,” Liam says, tapping Drake’s hand away from her. A pulse of heat only greets Jaela, biting her lip, feeling how ready she is between her thighs. Drake groans, twisting his fingers with Liam’s.

“But…”

“He gets her first. After all, it’s about time he gets a taste.”

The doorbell rings, a jolt of electricity coursing through her, Liam’s blue and Drake’s brown eyes landing on her, smirking at her nipples, already stiff. “Just on time,” Drake says, kissing her first, then Liam does, the kiss lingering, Jaela’s heart simply pounding.

“I’ll get the drinks started, Drake, music?”

“Mmhmm,” Drake hums, kissing Liam before he heads to the speaker.

Liam smirks, eyeing Jaela appreciatively. “Won’t take long. You know what to do.” Jaela’s stomach tightens as Liam ran a finger down the silk, along the V that dipped low. She contains a whimper when Liam parts it slightly, nodding in approval at the further exposed flesh. “Perfect…”

And she turns before she kisses him, forgoing the plans that took weeks in the making. Careful, careful observations of their own—Jaela paying him special attention when he came into the restaurant she managed, playful touches that he shivered at, surely knowing everything her fingers could do—after all, he’s seen her and Liam and Drake enough—that led to this moment, well, after the confrontation.

Enough of making him wait, he agreed to come, right? Rolling her shoulders back, Liam and Drake laugh in the background as she opens the door, looking him in the eye—at least, for as long as his stay on her face, sliding down her chest.

Jaela smirks, noting how he nervously rubs his wrists and adjusts his tie—that could be of use—the slight bulge already clear. Liam was right. This would be easy. She reaches out, touching Damien’s tie, stepping closer. She looks down at him, taller than him in her heels. “I’m glad you could join us, Damien Nazario,” she breathes—and he only nods, hands balled into fists.

“I-I, uh, thanks for having me…” Jaela chuckles, stepping closer, the click of her heel making his Adam’s Apple move up and down.

“It’s our pleasure as much as yours,” she whispers, brushing their lips—but only that, a brush—and steps back, Damien following her, hands on her hips, licking his lips. “Now, if you can shut the door…”

And Damien obeys, just like she knew (how easy it was to get him to crack with a little cleavage and batting of eyelashes), turning, lips parted. “I… um… I didn’t know you’re be wearing that…”

Jaela giggles, taking his hands, leading him to the couch, music softly filtering in, Liam and Drake’s talking in the background, their gaze burning on her. “I could have answered naked, you know,” she breathes, pushing his shoulder back. Damien falls back on the couch without resistance, dark eyes roving over body, freely. Liam and Drake, in the background, share a kiss after sipping drinks, the air warm in the home they made for themselves.

She straddles him, hands running along his shoulders, then arms. He tries to speaks but fails to, hands curled into fists on the cushions as she takes her time, flicking her eyes up every few seconds or so, amused at his expression, his desire so fucking clear and pressing against her. “Why… why naked…” He finally half gasps, nails raking against the fabric of the couch, shifting.

Jaela locks eyes with Liam and Drake when she places a hand on Damien’s neck, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “So I can see you face when you take this off of me…”

“Fuck,” he hisses, setting his hands on her thighs, his breathing rapid and short. His fingers are rough, like Drake’s, and Jaela ghosts her lips along his stubbled jaw—oh, he’s wearing something that smells nice—until she meets his lips, no fanfare for this first kiss.

Just his lips on hers, nails leaving half moons on the thighs, tongues wasting no time to meet, twisting and twirling and slipping into the others mouth, tasting each other. Oh, and he’s certainly had something before here—perhaps rum?—to loosen his nerves. “You can touch, you know…”

Damien pauses their kisses, meeting her eyes, both of their pupils wide and expanded, deep and dark. He’s not Liam nor Drake, no. She loves them. She doesn’t love Damien—shouldn’t even like him, really, for what he’s doing—but fuck if she doesn’t want him, want to show him what he’s missing—and why he needs to keep his mouth shut, and besides—they all agreed on this performance. He slides his hands up, just a bit. Just a little bit, tentative.

Ah.

Jaela nips his lip, rolling her hips forward, robe sliding up, and surely he knows that there’s nothing under there by now, flicking her tongue against his smirking. “You don’t need to be nervous, Damien,” she purrs, sliding a hand down his chest, just brushing against his bulge. It’s enough of touch to make him yelp. Drake nearly spits out his drink from the corner of her eye, the two in the kitchen, Liam murmuring in his ear, both eyes on her.

She bites her lip, Damien still not moving his hands higher, breaths short. “I-I want to, god I do…”

Jaela brings her hand between then again, cupping him, lips against his ear. “Then what’s stopping you from finding out what’s under here? You weren’t this shy when you spied on us… or when I sat next to you in that booth. You’re a terrible PI, D,” she hisses, planting kisses from ear to jaw.

He growls, low, hands sliding under the robe to her bare hips. “There’s nothing under here, is there?” Now, it’s Jaela’s turn to shudder when his hands dare to inch to her inner thighs. She nods, throwing her head back when he brushes her folds, slick and warm, the swirling sensation of desire in her belly, only intensified by the fact that Liam and Drake are watching her every move.

It was hot enough when Liam, usually, would like to enjoy the show before he’d join in when her and Drake would lay tangled up, spent, but he’s ready to go, only turned on further. But this? Both men watching her? Fuck. Damien kisses her, merely flicking her clit twice before gripping her hips, bringing her closer to him, close as they can with his clothing. Jaela circles her hips, biting her lower low, gaze flicking to the men in the kitchen, still talking—but looking at her, shifting occasionally. “Listen, I want to…” Damien looks over as well. Jaela feels his cock twitch. He wouldn’t mind a go at them, wouldn’t he? “But… your, uh, husbands—”

Rings shine on each finger as she runs her hands through his hair, thick and full. Good to tug on. So, she does just that, Damien’s grip on her tightening. “I’m sure you’re well aware that we don’t do anything without agreement from everybody in our little marriage here. That said… I think you might be a little thirsty.”

“I--?” His question is halted, Jaela standing, gripping his hands, robe opening a bit more to nearly expose a nipple, parting at the bottom just below her pussy, aching for more than a brush of the clit.

“It was rude of me to not offer you a drink,” she says, pulling him up, carefully leading him to the kitchen area. Liam and Drake don’t halt their conversation, sipping on whiskey. “You are a guest in our home.” As expected, Damien only nods, hands falling to the counter top when he back is pressed against him, his arms on either side of her.

Jaela smirks, looking back to her husbands, exposing more of her breasts to Damien, the silk simply clinging on the point of her nipples. “What do we have for our guest?”

As planned, Liam pulls out whiskey and rum, setting them on the counter. “Whiskey, our personal favorite Damien, but we just know you like rum, too, Jaela says you order quite a bit from her….”

“Uh…” Damien’s brown eyes flash between Jaela’s hand, slowly making its way down her body, over her covered stomach, slipping between the robe, circling her clit, making a hitch of breath to let him exactly know what she was doing to herself. After all, he’s acting slower than they all expected. “What… whatever you’re having…” He mumbles, Drake changing the music.

“Sounds good to me,” Liam says pouring the whiskey. Jaela presses her finger harder on her clit, shuddering at the sensation, knowing exactly what’s going through all three men’s mind. Liam and Drake couldn’t wait—but Damien first.

“You know D,” Drake says, coming behind Liam, kissing his neck. Damien—finally—pushes the sink aside to her breasts and pinches the nipples, before kneading her breasts, rough fingers so good, two fingers sinking within herself. God, his restraint is amazing, just like Drake on the Engagement Tour. “You can have anything, you know.”

Damien groans, and Jaela pulls him closer by the tie, lips an inch apart. They lock eyes. Liam laughs, low, dark. “And something tells me you really don’t want whiskey right now.”

“No,” he gasps, horse, and flawlessly unties and opens her robe, dropping to his knees. “I want this.”

Leg over a shoulder, her hand pushed away in favor of his tongue, Damien gets to work, expert, she notes, lapping at the juices already there, waiting for him. “Finally,” Jaela breathes, gripping his hair tight, head thrown back. Damien hums in agreement, swirling her clit, then diving between her folds. With the other hand gripping the counter, Jaela, relaxes as he eats her out like a man lost in the Sahara.

He’s different than Liam or Drake. Something about a refined roughness there, particular in how he flicks his tongue, circles her clit, or even takes a moment of air to kiss her thigh. Her grip loosens and she begins to pant, leg shaking. Meanwhile, Liam and Drake chat and flirt behind her, stealing kisses between sips. Just as planned. Her lips curl as she comes, uttering his name, his hands splayed on her thighs, licking every last drop.

He gently bites her inner thigh, and she thinks he’ll pull her for a gentle kiss—then she’ll lead him to the bedroom, of course, Drake and Liam to follow and the show really can begin (certainly, letting him in on their bedroom antics that he’s witnessed for so long is bound to make him back off, to keep their lives a secret from whoever, and maybe add in an occasional partner?)—but Damien has other plans, clearly. Not that she minds. No, she doesn’t mind at all.

He kisses her hard, nails digging into her flesh with a twinge of pain—then he turns her around, setting her hands on the counter, lips against the back of her neck, breath so, so hot, and her eyes are wide when she faces Liam and Drake. They pause their kiss too, matching her expression. Oh.

Damien whispers, “I think you like this, no?” and slowly traces his hands up her arms, over the shoulders, then down her curves until he reaches her ass, goosepimples following the trail of his hands. He smacks after a teasing brush—but with a gentle touch and caress after—grinding his hips against her, holding her in place.

“I do,” she replies, gulping, Drake and Liam’s heated gaze burning a hole straight through her. “You’re observant.” Getting taken from behind was something she always liked, but she loved it when it involved having Drake or Liam before her, or under, or just having them watch her with one of them. It’s goddamn thrilling. And now, both?

“Can I fuck you right here?” he asks, voice hoarse, thick.

Drake and Liam nod, but Jaela rolls her eyes, pushing back, bracing herself. “Mm, be my guest.”

She’s not entirely sure how he removed his shoes and pants that fast, but he does, the groaning loud when he slowly slides into her, clearly savoring it. Jaela’s eyelids flutter as he enters, stretching her. Liam and Drake stare, still, their hard-ons clear. Jaela giggles when Damien pulls out, hand on the small of her back, then thrusts back in, pace fast and hard, wasting no time, it seems. “So, you know how I like it then, huh?”

His other hand tangles in her hair, eyes dark, focused on their bodies joining in unison. “You could say that.”

“Anyways,” Liam says, pushing up Drake’s jaw, eyes near black. Drake’s teeth click together. “I was thinking about making a trip to Seattle next weekend, just the three of us. Think you can get work off, Drake, Jaela?”

Oh, the ass. Speaking off, Damien smacks it again, tugging on her hair. Jaela bites her inner cheek, Damien’s cock thicker than she’s used to, thick and long, fuck, maintaining eye contact with Liam, pushing her ass back between his thrusts, hand between her legs. “I can,” Drake says, unbuckling Liam’s belt. “I’m not sure about Jaela. Jaela…?”

“Y-yes!” she squeaks as Damien angles is hips in a way that makes her lose her breath, face warm, her walls clenching around his cock.

“I think she’s thirsty, too, Liam,” Drake teases, leaning over the counter, tilting her chin up. Damien tugs, helping her keep her head level with Drake’s, donning a wicked, wicked smirk. “Get her a whiskey.”

And he kisses her, hard, teeth biting down on her lip, a jolt of pain perfect with the combination of how Damien fucks her. Drake breaks it a minute later, whispering, “Good girl,” sending a shiver throughout her, enough to come again, Damien slowing down, gasping.

“Fuck… this… you—”

“Here’s your drink,” Liam offers, sliding it her way, as she comes down from her high, Damien resuming his fast, hurried, “fuck me” pace as she sips the whiskey. Jaela can only manage two more sips, still shuddering from the orgasm, flaring up when Damien pulls out slow—feeling every inch, everything—or how their bodies join, slick sounds between the beats of the music—but mostly, how Drake and Liam watch now, downing their drinks. It’s goddamn thrilling, and she could care less about why they need to do this.

Damien’s close, each thrust more erratic than the next—but then they stop, leaving her wanting more. Jaela groans and turns, Liam whispering in his ear, shirt off Damien now too. Damien’s lust glazed eyes widen and he nods, meeting her eyes. “I could use a change in position, couldn’t you?”

Jaela eyes the tie on the ground and snatches it up, then kicks off her heels, getting the suggestion Liam undoubtedly whispered to him, following the suggestion with a kiss on the corner of his lips. “Certainly,” she agrees, eyeing Liam and Drake, settling back behind the counter. “Aren’t you two coming?”

“We’d like another drink, first, Jae,” Drake says, eyeing in the robe. “We’ll be in shortly. I’d lose the robe if you really want to make him yell.”

“On it,” she agrees, robe off. Damien smiles, eyeing her body appreciatively. “Like seeing this so close?” she asks, playing with the tie between her hands. This won’t be used on her, even if the thrill is, well, sending another rush of warmth between her legs.

Damien kisses her ear as they walk, tongue playing with the cartilage piercing, just like Drake likes to do. “Fucking love it… I… I can’t believe it, really….”

Jaela smiles softly, so many things she wanted to say, to scream, but she doesn’t, only pumping his dick once before they enter the master bedroom. Drake’s isn’t used much these days, all three taking in the comfort of each other as it seemed the past loomed, dark and menacing over them. But for now—Jaela pushes Damien on the bed, rough. “Go to the head,” she commands, crawling on it. He seems like he likes it rough, too. “Lay back. Hands over your head.”

“Yes ma’am…” Confirmed.

He does as she obeys, and she straddles his waist, smirking at his look, wanting. Jaela takes her time to tie his wrists, looking deep into his eyes. She liked him well enough. Apologized once she got it out of him. Tipped nice too. But why did he have to spy on them, for whatever reason. Just… why? What was his plan? Who did he work for? Maybe she tightens the tie a bit too tight, but Damien doesn’t mind, clearly, taking a nipple in his mouth as she lowers herself, pushing back her hair, shuddering as he sucks, grazing the skin, eyes shut, hips rising and falling slightly.

Jaela smirks, manicured nails running down his arms as his hot tongue moves to the next breast, swirling the nipple. Jaela lingers for a bit, making sure he can feel how aroused she is on his skin, then she sits back up, drawing red lines across his chest. “Answer me this…” she whispers, poised over his dick, tip brushing against her folds.

It’s as if Damien could come, with the way he moves as that slight touch, eyes shut tight. “Wh…what is it?”

And she lowers, slowly, pressing hard on his chest. Damien exhales when she does, readjusting to him, stretching her impossibly full. Though, she’s sure there’s more—far more—to come than just from him, laughter from Liam and Drake bursting through the open door. “Open your eyes,” she says, quietly, raising hips, then coming back down, slowly in rhythmic, smooth motion, slow, because she knows how it’ll tease him—always works for Drake and Liam.

Damien obeys, fingers twitching, lips tight. He nods for her to continue, raising his hips, meeting hers, then lowering. He’s got rhythm too, she notes. Liam did. Drake didn’t, not much, anyways. Not that she minded the surprise of how he’d fuck her. She locks eyes as she moves faster, making him strain to touch her. He loves the restraint, she knows. Easy enough to figure that out. “You haven’t turned us in to… whoever… because you like us, right?”

Damien gulps, losing his own pace—but only for a second—before picking it up. “Y-yes… you’re all so h-happy and… and I just c-can’t.”

She rewards him with a kiss and swirl on her hips, the taste of her still on his lips, stained in his stubble. Pushing herself up, his heart beating impossibly fast under her hands, tits bouncing (the only thing Damien can focus on), she smiles. “I didn’t need to proposition you with sex to get you to keep quiet then, huh?” It’s a relief, almost. Right? Then why is he sticking around?

“Mmhm—fuck Jaela, I knew you were good but not—goddamn—”

“Ah—not yet,” she says quickly, pausing, only the tip of his dick in her, hovering as Liam and Drake join the bedroom. Liam dims the lights while Drake undresses, eyes on Jaela’s position.

“Aw, don’t tease him, Jae,” Drake says, tossing his shirt to the side. She glances at him, cocking her head.

“I’m just getting answers. And I think a little tease is only fair after you’ve been watching our ménage à trois for this long, wouldn’t you agree, D?”

He gulps and Liam pushes back Jaela’s hair over her shoulder, wiping away a thin line of sweat from her brow as he joins the bed, hands running along her skin, somehow, hotter than before. “I-I do.”

“Mmm… good, thought so. Anyways,” she says, resuming, Damien watching Liam’s touches, first on her back, then hips, cupping her breast, teeth leaving little indents on her shoulder, a kiss to follow, his legs touching Damien’s. Damie’s thrusts grow more wild. Obviously. “Why are still here if you don’t want turn us over…?”

Damien grimaces. “Is-is saying I like the show enough?” Drake joins the bed, on the side, touching Damien’s cheek before stroking Liam’s cock with one hand, taking the other to slide down her stomach.

“Nah,” Jaela says, turning her head to kiss Drake deep, his fingers now circling her clit as she rides Damien with ease, three hands lavishing her body with attention that Damien only wishes he could give back. Damien groans. “But we can answer that later.”

“This… is… fuck…” Words evade him, only watching Drake kiss Liam, whose kneading her breasts as she bounces, honestly—the most turned on she’s been… like ever…. “You three are so goddamn, good, I—I’m close, fuck—”

And he is, this time, his legs shaking, hips out of rhythm now, tie digging hard into his skin, straining against the restraints. Jaela grins. “We’ve had years of practice, you should have seen us when we first started, much more a… Liam!”

She can’t help but laugh as Liam pulls her off Damien’s dick—much to Damien’s discontent—and whispers instructions in her ear while he positions her, slipping two fingers into her pussy as she’s bent before him. Drake growls in approval, watching, pumping his own dick. “You’ll get your turn Drake…” Liam says, hitting her ass. “Okay Jaela… make him come for us.”

“Mmm, yes sir,” she whispers and Damien visibly shudders, lips brushing his tip. “Ah, he likes that…”

Damien pants, straining hard. “Y-yes, fuck. Pl-please—just let me—oh shit…” He throws his head back, Jaela’s hand pumping his dick, making sure to spread the precum over the tip, taking him in her mouth as Liam inserts a third finger, Drake jacking off and tracing lines down Damien’s chest as he comes in Jaela’s mouth.

She moans as she swallows his come, Liam pleasuring at the same time, Damien cursing and saying her name, and fuck—it’s almost too much. But, Damien finishes and she licks every last drop, a flick of the slit, there, releasing him. Liam stops too, raking his fingers up her back. “Good girl,” Liam says, arms around her waist. “Now it’s time to share you.”

Heart in her throat, she turns, and Liam kisses her, lowering her next to Damien, warm body flushed against her, kissing deep and slow. Liam smiles against her, feeling Drake sink down, kissing Damien. Jaela can’t help but to peek, giggling… then shamelessly watching as Liam kisses down her neck, lingering there with the hot open mouth kisses, hands everywhere he can touch, over every mark and stretch and curve, his cock pressing into her thigh.

Drake kisses Damien deep, too, and she cocks a brow, ghosting her fingers up and down Liam’s back as he kisses down her body. But, she watches, Drake untying Damien, gripping his thighs as Damien lifts himself up, tugging on Drake’s hair. Drake yelps, with pleasure of course, and they break the kiss, Damien grinning wickedly, like Lima often did when he was the man in control.

Jaela shifts, pushing Liam’s head down to her pussy—one where he needs no invitation to dive into, and she gets comfortable, watching the two men next to her, biting her lip.

Damien kisses up Drake’s neck, keeping his hold tight on his hair. “Just because I’m going to suck your dick doesn’t mean you’re in control, Walker, understand?”

Drake gulps and Jaela smirks, saying, “How’d you know he like to submit?”

Damien laughs, somehow getting Drake below him. Jaela raises her hips, Liam doing that thing with his tongue that she loved she much. Damien kisses down Drake’s body, leaving marks and Drake shaking. Jaela’s amused—and turned the hell on—seeing this. “I’ve seen enough of what you three do,” Damien murmurs, then taking Drake’s cock in his mouth, shutting his eyes.

Drake does too, gripping the headboard bars. “Fuck… you’re good…”

“I-I could have told you that,” Jaela gasps, holding Liam’s head in place, wanting more and more from him, pumping two fingers with a certain curl in her. This continues for a few minutes, Drake and Jaela’s groans and moans mingling into one, the hums and mumbles of appreciate about other the other tastes coming from Liam and Damien. “S-so Damien,” she breathes, “You didn’t want to just fuck me, huh?”

Lips, hovered over Drake’s stiff length—much to Drake’s displeasure, reaching down to Damien. But, he’s quick, grabbing Drake’s wrist, halting his demand to continue. Liam glances up too, then resumes, circling her nipple with his fingers. “You can touch me when I say you can,” he says to Drake, releasing his wrist. Drake nods, putting his hand back to the headboard. “And… you did promise me I’d get to experience everything, right? That meant one or both of your husbands?”

“Both,” Liam mumbles, taking a few seconds to kiss Damien, fingers twisting in Damien’s hair, then holding it in place, the blaze of dominance in both of their eyes, lips curling with the shine of her cum and Drake’s precum. Unspoken, they move from their positions, Damien poised with his dick against Drake’s entrance and Liam grabbing the lube on the nightstand, using it on him, then handing it to Damien with another kiss before gripping Jaela’s thighs, thumb circling her skin as he waits for Damien to prep, Drake watching with baited breath.

Jaela smiles, reaching down and slowly strokes him, meeting his eyes. Damien bites his tongue, setting the lube to the side, nails raking on Drake’s thighs. “You don’t know how long I wanted to do this, you three….”

Liam chuckles. “Same time?”

“If your husband can handle me.”

Liam’s eyes flash and Jaela removes her hand, holding her breath in anticipation. Drake’s basically whining next to her, begging to be taken. He’s never much for words when’s ready for this. “Oh, he can. Surely you know as well as us.” Jaela chooses to ignore the hint of malice in Liam’s tone for suddenly, her and Drake are gasping in unison as the men both enter them.

Liam sinks down to her, holding her close, kissing her cheeks, thrusting while her legs lock around his waist, pressure building below. Damien pins down Drake’s wrists as he slowly enters him, Drake wincing in pain—only for a second—then the pleasure takes over, Damien’s pace nice and slow despite how he holds Drake’s wrists down, delight on Drake’s face.

Jaela loses track of time, shuddering once with her second climax from Liam, the addition of hearing Damien and Drake—and Damien showering her with compliments, even—making everything feel as if it is on fire and she is a willing participant. After all, isn’t playing with Damien doing just that? Playing with fire? What if sex didn’t work to shut him up? What if—

Drake turns, bringing her face to his once his red wrists are free. They sweat slick bodies are close, brushing against each other as Liam and Damien thrust, the music long forgotten in the kitchen. Drake’s hot kisses, tongue commanding, despite his submission. The kiss moves from her lips to her ear, but not before Drake glances to Liam. Liam gets the message and Jaela strokes Drake’s dick again, distracting Damien.

Liam offers a hand travelling down Damien’s back, and Damien’s surprise confirms exactly where his fingers land. Quickly, Drake whispers in her ear, “I think it’s working.”

“We’ll have to hope this is enough,” she says back, biting his earlobe. “If not…”

“I wouldn’t mind having him back, would you?”

Jaela flicks his eyes, Damien clearly starting to lose his cool as Liam fingers his ass, Liam’s other hand on her pussy, thumb working magic. His cock is nice. He’s nice. He’s still threatening everything they’ve built. But…. “Sic Mary on him to keep him distracted when we just want to fuck each other.”

“Deal.”

They kiss again before focusing back to Damien and Liam… but not for long, Jaela realizes, as Damien slips out of Drake, panting. He hasn’t come yet, she realizes. None of the men have, even if Liam made her another time. Damien shakes his head, shuddering and Drake sits up, taking his face in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing—just… I… wow…”

Drake gives Liam a look, one Jaela still hasn’t figured out (it’s like they’re reading their minds, really) and Liam stops, pulling out of her with a pop. She’s about to whine but Liam pulls her up to her knees, turning her to Damien. She’s as tired as him, but she gets the picture. Ah. The grand finale. Something Damien won’t forget. Something to keep his mouth shut.

“Thinks that’s something? You haven’t seen anything yet,” Liam says, rubbing his shoulders.

“Drake?” she says, nodding. They practiced this. On Liam, of course. Their King was more than happy to receive it. First, Jaela kisses Damien, tilting his head up, coaxing his mouth open, his tongue into hers. She shifts, then Drake’s joining their sloppy three-way kiss. Damien’s eyes pop open in shock. Hands come to the back of their heads as they attempt to share a kiss, Jaela unsure of whose tongue in who, heads touching, noses breathing sharply. She presses her body to Damien, and Drake does as well, taking control for the finale of the kiss, forehead on Damien’s.

“Do you want us to blow you away?”

Damien nods and as practiced, as best they can, the three move. Jaela slides out of the way while Drake brings Damien down to the bed, pushing his thighs up to his chest, Jaela only registering the surprise Damien has before she hovers over him, bringing his hands to her hips, holding them there, dripping in anticipation. She faces Liam and Drake, Liam applying the lube to Drake’s dick, then to his, hand on Drake’s stomach, both kneeling, ready.

She nods, lowering—then back up when Damien flicks his tongue. “Ah, not yet. We really, really want to blow you away Damien,” she says, hands resting on his knees, parting his legs in the slightest. She grins when Liam enters Drake, kissing his neck. Drake’s groan and slight push makes Damien’s grip tighten. Jaela raises just enough so he can see the motion. “But… to do that… well, you’ve got to promise us one thing,” she coos, circling her hips. Damien trembles, Drake and Liam get louder, the sheen of sweat shining off of their bodies, Liam’s hands protectively around him as he fucks Drake. “You won’t ever turn us in. You don’t know where we are. Do that and maybe you’ll be invited back into our bedroom. What do you say?”

“Yes—just please—yes!”

She doesn’t know if his promise is pure. But Drake enters, Liam slows his pace, and Jaela lowers herself to his mouth, riding his face. A promise is a promise— they can’t deny him. He needs to trust them. Just as planned.

And, just as planned, Drake and Liam pick up the pace and Damien half moans against her pussy, tongue less skillful than before, lost to the pleasure of his Drake fucks him, how Drake moans, how Drake jacks him off, and how Jaela tastes, saying their names—yes, all three—over and over because fun, she’s coming, the coil bursting the most it has all night, ripples of pleasure and heat and want and desire and desperation—but they’re still going.

Time is lost but Damien makes sounds of disapproval when she tries to leave, so, she’ll stay and come again—hell, she’ll kiss Drake, lifting up to give Damien a full view of her ass and pussy. Yes, she will, and she’ll come first—and her cry, finally, sets them off. Liam first, in Drake most likely, Jaela thinks as she pants, Damien licking as she comes, then Damien himself, on his stomach—and finally, Drake his seed joining Damien’s across his marked body.

For a moment, the three all lock eyes… then Liam and Drake collapse in a pile next to Damien while Jaela moves, then falls between the three of them, the bedroom thick with sex and their panting. She can’t move and Damien barely can, but he rolls to her, turning her head. Liam and Drake nuzzle each other, but set up a hand (as per usual) on her stomach and breast.

Jaela stares into Damien’s equally dark eyes, chest heaving. “You have a gift with your tongue,” she mumbles, her juices shining on his chin. Damien smiles, softly, fingers tracing her jawline.

“You don’t need to flatter me. I’m serious. I… I won’t give you three up.”

“Will you ever tell us…”

His expressions hardens. “I can’t. I can say… just lay low.”

Jaela smiles, but sadly. “We’re the talk of this dumb little town with our marriage. I don’t think we can.”

Damien grimaces, pressing closer to her, his fingers woven with Drake’s on Jaela’s body. “Well… I’ll protect you three… six, the kids, the best I can. I promise.”

She smiles wide. “Damien, I—”

Jaela jolts awake, heart pounding, sitting up in her bed.

No, not her bed.

She glances out the window of the hotel room, the ocean soft outside, moon high, still. Cordonia. Still here. Not home. She gulps, trying to push away the heat pooling low, heat mixed with worry and loss… Drake and Liam, gone. Taken from her. From the kids.

She rubs her eyes, curling her legs. She did everything—they did everything—they didn’t deserve—she just wants them back home. It’s been weeks since they were….

She glances to Damien in the next bed and smiles softly. He said he’d help. They can’t just get up and begin another fruitless day right now. But right now….

Jaela gets up and slips into his bed, under the hotel sheet covers. Damien shifts, waking up, and pulls her close, yawning. “Go to sleep Jaela…”

“I was,” she whispers, small, ocean breeze blowing in. “I can’t stop thinking about them.”

She knows he frowns when he brings her closer, kissing the back of her neck. “I know. I promised. I’ll keep you safe.”

“But you couldn’t—”

“I had nothing to do with that,” he says, quickly. “Jaela… we’ll find them. We’re here now. We’re on step closer to seeing what they’re doing with them.”

She purses her lips, staring at the gentle breeze blowing the curtains. Her stomach twists. But not in the way she wants it to. “And… and if we’re too late…”

“Cordonia won’t execute them for running away—”

“It’s a different place,” she snaps, gripping his hand, unblinking. “We left and… and it changed. Collapsed. We don’t know what to expect, D.”

Damien sighs, forehead on the back of her neck. “No. But… in the morning we’ll do everything just as planned, Jaela. If we do that… then maybe…”

She nods, shutting her eyes. “I get it. Just… just as planned. You got it.”

And silence, familiar these days, falls between them. He falls asleep first. She won’t until the sun rises, the pale, bright burst of blue reminding her of Liam’s eyes, light revealing the trees, ancient wood dark and brown as Drake’s eyes, longing lulling her heart to sleep, no matter how tight Damien holds her. No, nothing can replace them.

Damien promised.

Then why’d she come home to an empty home?

Disclaimer: All characters and rights belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Permatag: @youwontlikewherewewillgo, @mfackenthal, @hhiggs, @jadedpixiescribbles, @ashtonmore, @enmchoices @the-everlasting-dream, @hopefulmoonobject, @krisnicjack, @museofbooks, @ladynonsense, @innerpostmentality, @thatcatlady0716, @lizeboredom, @choicessa, @boneandfur, @tmarie82, @speedyoperarascalparty, @thatspicegirlssong@zigthetwig, @craftytacotrashdream, @blackcoffee85, @quartzandarrow, @akrenich, @trr-fangirl, @christopher-powell, @client-327

Poly!AU, Drake x Jaela x Liam– @bobasheebaby

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freddiemxrcury · 5 years

Note

fuck me up fam, all ships.

b/c we have so MANY fucking ships

Henry & Eliza

Name: SchuylerGender: GirlGeneral Appearance: literally eliza’s spitting imagePersonality: brave, independent, goofy, confident and lovingSpecial Talents: she loves to sing in the car but not the best, but neither of them would ever tell herWho they like better: henryWho they take after more: henryPersonal Head canon: on her first day of school she ran right off without a fear while Eliza cried and Henry looked on with pride

Kian & Luca

Name: GeorgeGender: MaleGeneral Appearance: dark hair, blue eyes, and more athletic than any young child should bePersonality: hyper, competitive, and adventurousSpecial Talents: he hit a home run in his first little league gameWho they like better: LucaWho they take after more: neither really, but Luca I suppose. The boy is adoptedPersonal Head canon: whenever he’s sick all he wants is to cuddle with one or both of them and watch Mary Poppins

Adrianna & Milo

Name: Sophia GraceGender: GirlGeneral Appearance: milo’s dimples, adrianna’s smile, and the most beautiful eyes either of them have ever seenPersonality: shy, slow to trust, dependent, playful and happySpecial Talents: more fashionable than a child should beWho they like better: MiloWho they take after more: AdriannaPersonal Head canon: she has a stuffed animal that she takes with her everywhere and keeps forever

Simon & Harrison

Name: JaxonGender: BoyGeneral Appearance: blonde hair, hazel eyes, tall and thinPersonality: studious, social, dependent, and eager to pleaseSpecial Talents: has a photographic memoryWho they like better: SimonWho they take after more: Harrison, but he wants to be more like SimonPersonal Head canon: Harrison and Noah still weren’t sure about kids but one of their friends who is a foster parents showed them Jaxon’s profile and they knew immediately that was their son

Jagger & Theodosia

Name: JeffersonGender: BoyGeneral Appearance: mixed skin color, dark eyes, jagger’s body typePersonality: outspoken, headstrong, determined, and strongSpecial Talents: being involved in the continued fight for equality, which both scares theodosia but also makes her proudWho they like better: JaggerWho they take after more: Theodosia/Jagger (it’s 50/50)Personal Head canon: awkward conversations with his parents about the difficulty of navigating the world as a bi-racial individual

Joaquin & Brody

Name: AlexanderGender: BoyGeneral Appearance: dark eyes, blond hair, athletic buildPersonality: generous, loving, trusting and proudSpecial Talents: can play video games for hours at a time without eating or needing to use the bathroomWho they like better: joaquinWho they take after more: joqauinPersonal Head canon: Alexander was adopted and quick to cherish everything his foster turned adopted parents were able to provide. Every year for his birthday he asks them for a sibling.

Clark & Danielle

Name: JasmineGender: GirlGeneral Appearance: clark’s face, danielle’s staturePersonality: sassy like her mom and a complete daddy’s girlSpecial Talents: convincing Clark to buy her another she wants Who they like better: ClarkWho they take after more: DaniellePersonal Head canon: her first word was probably a high end label like Gucci or Chanel, quickly followed by ‘Daddy’

Penn & Sylvia

Name: MurphyGender: BoyGeneral Appearance: sylvia’s big eyes and smile, penn’s stature and nosePersonality: rambunctious, the typical over active boy who acts out all the time. Special Talents: armpit fartsWho they like better: PennWho they take after more: SylviaPersonal Head canon: causes his parents to be called to the school constantly because he continues to act out

Delilah & Eric

Name: SabrinaGender: GirlGeneral Appearance: Eric’s smile, everything else is all DelilahPersonality: a natural born leader, head in the clouds, anxious to exploreSpecial Talents: being too grown for her own goodWho they like better: Michelle Obama, but her parents are okay she supposesWho they take after more: She wouldn’t believe it… but EricPersonal Head canon: when asked what she wanted to be as a child she said president and wrote letters to woman leaders asking for pointers, including the first female president (because by the time this imaginary child is grown we should have at least one by then)

PJ & Luca

Name: Bennett (aka Benny)Gender: BoyGeneral Appearance: PJ’s stunning eyes, Luca’s everything elsePersonality: adventurous, brave but still a momma’s boy, optimisticSpecial Talents: he can rock climb really well which is scary and impressiveWho they like better: PJWho they take after more: LucaPersonal Head canon: whenever they go on a trip he always tells his mom that she has no reason to worry because his dad is there and he never lets bad thins happen to them

Damien & Milo

Name: RaphaelGender: boyGeneral Appearance: dark hair and eyes, taller, looks like Milo’s dadPersonality: nerdy, loves to learn, prefers indoors, kind of a loner, awkwardSpecial Talents: he is an autodidact Who they like better: he loves them both evenly, he doesn’t believe in favoitesWho they take after more: Neither but he was carried by Damien’s sister with a donor egg and Milo’s spermPersonal Head canon: he tries to play a sport because he thinks Milo will love him more and in return Milo reads more to try and relate.

Millie & Declan:

Name: FreddieGender: boyGeneral Appearance: dark hair, light eyes, declan’s smile and millie’s nosePersonality: curious, sneaky, light hearted, funny, and full of imaginationSpecial Talents: hiding from his parents whenever possibleWho they like better: millieWho they take after more: declanPersonal Head canon: when he goes on tour with everyone he always makes his way onto the stage somehow

Brody & Danielle

Name: DianaGender: GirlGeneral Appearance: brody’s eyes, danielle’s smile Personality: tough like her father, but sweet like her motherSpecial Talents: she punched a boy in the face for teasing her friendWho they like better: BrodyWho they take after more: BrodyPersonal Head canon: she forces herself to do more girly things to appease Danielle

Tripp & Sullivan

Name: FrankieGender: GirlGeneral Appearance: dark hair, green eyes, and wide smilePersonality: mischievous, manipulative, cunning BUT loyal and lovingSpecial Talents: knowing how to get her wayWho they like better: TrippWho they take after more: SullivanPersonal Head canon: skipped school with her cousin to get ice cream and claiming they both had a family emergency

Sid & Claudia

Name: MaryGender: girlGeneral Appearance: blonde hair, blue eyes, sharp features just like her motherPersonality: innocent, gullible, seeing the best in people, a golden heartSpecial Talents: sounding like an adult on the phone to trick people Who they like better: SidWho they take after more: SidPersonal Head canon: she is taken for granted by her cousin Mary which sometimes gets her in trouble

#ghostxn

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nerdy-flower · 6 years

Text

@sinunamor IT IS WRITTEN

Sorry for the heckin long wait ;^; here it is! Ernest Growing Up Part 3/3! (For now~)

(Ernest curses a lot and it’s a little sad at the beginning, otherwise it’s G)

It isn't working.

In spite of everything, Ernest came out of college doing kind of okay. He had an alright resume, a little pocket of savings, some furniture. Better than some kids he sat next to at graduation, for sure. He gets that coveted first apartment to himself- literally a room and a bathroom. The water pressure is like a dog lifting its leg and peeing on him and the neighbours are obnoxious, but it was his. He was paying rent! Utilities! Insurance, even! Life was looking up! Was.

He stayed in the city he went to school in, With his Pop's new condo a half hour away, it didn't feel so far. They'd have dinner all the time. Pop would give him tips on places to go and things to see. At one point, he says he wouldn't have moved here if he didn't know Ernest was staying. Ernest didn't have a great answer for that, tongue sudden;y stuck. They get froyo anyway.

His shit job became two shit jobs and then one again, then two, then three very briefly, then one with occasional paid-in-cash online ads stuff. Maybe illegal? Only in a tax law way, so whatever. He busts his ass- well, some of the time. Sometimes he half-asses it and gets paid anyway, other times he gets fired, depends on the place. What it comes down to is that he never has enough money. All the Gen Z-targeted personal finance advice blogs are shit, too. “Get a roommate!” For where? The cupboard under his kitchen sink?

Actually, in his postal code, someone might take it. But they'd be just as broke as him.

Even now, he feels spoiled and pathetic. Plenty of people just had to make do, they didn't have a Dad to send cheques in the mail, a stepdad to order them groceries online, a Pop to full-on spot them rent money. He tries and tries to make it work and he /can't./

Finally, he picks up the phone. “Dad?”

“Ernest? What's the matter? Is everything-”

“Can I come home?” With his stuff, he means, with the furniture he can't use anymore and his rejected debit card and-

Hugo makes this little noise, a very parental click of concern that sticks right in his chest. “Of course, always.”

Lucien drives him because he's been working solely off his laptop and following Pablo around the East Coast. Ernest isn't a hundred percent on what he does, but it's enough to pay for a rental van and a premium streaming account so commercials don't interrupt their drawn-out silence on the way back North to Maple Bay.

“Do you need to be an asshole about this? I said I was sorry, okay? I'll pay you back as soon as I get money, /god./”

“All I asked,” Lucien drawls, smartass as always. “Is if you wanted me to buy you a bagel. So I'll just buy your least favourite one and we'll carry the fuck on, shall we?”

Ernest officially hates everything forever, but mostly himself.

Dad and Damien welcome them home with big, awkward hugs and lots of understanding when he wants to go to bed straightaway and they left his room the way it was and /fuck/-

Pics or it didn't happen, as the young adults say. If no one sees him crying and hugging his teddy in his mid-twenties, it never took place.

His dignity drops a few more points the next day when he has to beg and plead with his Dad not to tell Pop.

“What if he goes to your place and you're not there?” Hugo insists, hands soapy from washing the dishes. “He'll be so worried!”

“He always calls or texts first, always,” Ernest thrusts another dried plate into the cupboard and balls his fists together. “I'm not gonna pretend forever, honest. /Please/, Dad, just a few more days, that's all I'm asking. It's my thing to tell him, anyway!”

“Okay, okay,” Hugo holds his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. He tucks some overgrown hair behind his ear- shit, he's gone even more grey. His dads are going grey and he can't afford his own Netflips account. “I won't tell him, but if he calls and asks, I'm not going to lie. Alright?”

“Fair enough,” Ernest sighs through his nose, tucking the cutlery away in brooding silence. Goddammit, he's too old to brood. This sucks.

Hugo watches him a minute before draining the sink. “Have you heard from Carmensita? She's back in town, you two should meet for coffee or something. Get your mind off things.”

Ernest swings his head around, barely listening to the second half of the sentence. “She's back already? I know she was talking about it, but- yeah. I'll text her.”

He does, and they meet up, later that day because his schedule is open indefinitely. He waves to River and Crish, doing something with multiple types of sportsballs in the Cahn family driveway and thankfully too focused to do more than wave back. Carmensita comes strolling out of Mat's house in a flower-print romper and jogs up the sidewalk to him and he's never, ever been so happy to see someone.

Except that time he got lost at Disney World, but we don't talk about that.

“There's my favourite human!” Ernest laughs as she hops up to hug him. He insists he never got taller, she got shorter, but she still gives the greatest hugs. “No more braids, huh? That's a big change.”

Carmensita giggles and teases her fingers through her mohawk, her sides shaved down to thatches of brown fuzz. “I just got it done, do you like it? It's pretty different, for me at least.”

“I love it,” Ernest scratches one side of her undercut until she playfully bats his hand away. “Nah, it suits you. Makes you look cool and smart, like you're gonna mess somebody up but with your know-how instead of your fists.”

“Overly specific, but I'll take it.” Carmensita grins, a flash of snarky white and he feels like he can stand up straighter. They wave again at the over-active River on their way across the cul-de-sac, and 'Sita leans in to him, talking behind her hand. “You heard about Ashley and Mary, right?”

“Yeah, I sure did.” Ernest glances across the street, almost feeling eyes on him from Mary's house. Which used to be Julian's house, but then Julian and Damien talked and agreed to sell it to Mary shortly after her divorce so she could get out of Damien's spare bedroom and have enough space that custody would be a non-issue. Julian was totally cool with it, because he was practically moved in with Mat anyway and Amanda was fully settled into New York- “God, this neighbourhood is weird.”

“Something in the groundwater, I think,” Carmensita laughs, shaking her head. “Craig's the real deal though. He's legit totally cool with it. I was here in time for the first summer BBQ and I expected, y'know, some awkwardness.”

“Folks around here save all the awkwardness for their kids,” Ernest drawl to make her laugh again. It's nearly sticky outside, but he refuses to remove his sweater. He goes bare-armed for exactly two months a year, tans up real nice, and goes right back into his cotton cocoons of happiness. “So how's life n'stuff?”

“Life n'stuff is pretty good. I've got all my boxes unpacked in less than two months, so that's my record.” She slips off her glasses to polish them on her shirt. “I'll show you my place when we get there, I'm teaching piano lessons out of my living room right now, and- oh! You know what tonight is, right? Are you busy?”

Ernest shakes his head to both, he's been too depressed to check social media and he definitely isn't busy. “What's tonight?”

Carmensita grins wide and imitates an airhorn to punctuate her words. “Open mic night! Woo woo woo!”

It's a little different to watch from the audience with everyone else. The Cahn twins are working part-time at the Spoon now and they're the ones doing the backstage stuff. Lucien drives into town for it, Pablo's tour wrapping up with 'boring business shit' that he'd apparently rather skip. The three of them claim a corner table with high stools and enjoy the quirky parade.

His dad was right, it is nice to forget about his bullshit for a while. He recognizes kids he used to see racing around the playground strumming guitars and nervously messing up their lyrics. Back then he would have made fun of them, and maybe he does chuckle a little, but he gives them credit. He hasn't been on a stage in- oof, at least a year. Discounting karaoke, of course. He wonders what Disaster Master Quinn is up to these days.

The night ends, early enough for all the teens to go to bed, with a pretty tight Sunstroke Project cover on theramin. There is much clapping and whooping and thanking before everyone starts clearing out. Carmensita chugs the rest of her coffee, discreetly wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Alright, let's pay our tabs and head upstairs. Who's feeling Mario Party?”

“You know I am,” Lucien smirks as they gather their things. “None of the car ones though, I hate that shit.”

Ernest loses the thread of the conversation because there's a hiss of static in his ears. He can't pay his tab. His chequing account is a negative number and he can't remember if their register takes credit or not but that's not an option either. He's too broke. To pay for a goddamn /tea./ God, why does he only clue into shit when it's too late?

The thought of asking them to pay makes him wanna puke, so he performs the maneuver that saved him from many a terrible college party: the Irish Goodbye.

The crowd makes it easy to slip away. He lopes through the parking lot and heads into the undeveloped no-man's land behind the softball field. He shuts off his phone, which any rational instinct would encourage him not to do. He's gonna take the long, long way home and- then what? Isn't that just the biggest fucking question of his life- and then what, you witless idiot?

The static does not stop as he hurries through the warm summer air, eventually cutting across the street and walking down the bay. His pulse is really high for no friggin' reason and he probably couldn't type a text if he needed to- wait, is this a panic attack? No, come on. He's too old to get on any of his dads' benefits. He can't be doing this. He can't, he can't-

A car drives up slowly beside him, and he has a split-second of facing his death before the window rolls down to reveal two annoyed, very familiar faces. “You live in my Dad's house, what the hell was your long-term plan with this?”

“Look, I'm sorry, I couldn't pay and I-” Ernest rakes a hand through his hair, pulling on his scalp. “I'm sorry I'm such a fuck-up, okay? I shouldn't have come out tonight, I'm no good to be around right now.”

Carmensita runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “You ditched us over a four-ninety-seven tab?”

“I called it.”

She scowls, undoes her seatbelt, and clambers out of the passenger door, stomping around to his side. “Give me your face, right now. C'mere-”

Ernest hunches his shoulders so she can reach, mostly out of confusion. She takes his cheeks in her warm hands and paps them with each word, like she's trying to wake up a drunk guy in a movie. “We're not hanging out with your wallet! We want to hang out with /you,/ if you'll stop! Being! Such! A! Dumbass!”

“Can you stop smacking my face?”

“Maybe,” Carmensita drops her hands after two more, crossing her arms. “Seriously though, not cool. What's gotten into you?”

“Dude, I forgot that I couldn't afford to buy a bagel, like how fucked am I?” Ernest scrubs his face, palms burning with his need for a shave. “Everything's so messed up right now. I feel like a complete waste of space.”

“Again with this?” Lucien makes an irritated noise from the car, leaning out the window. “Like you're the only one who's ever been broke. How much money do you think I had after college?”

“Why do you think I'm living over my dad's shop?” Carmensita tilts her head at him. “I know you're upset, but you're not on your own, for god's sake. I would have bought you that bagel anyway, you didn't need to freak out.”

“Guhhhh,” Ernest pushes the heel of one palm against his eye. “I'm sorry I'm such an idiot. I can barely fuckin' think right now.”

“Do you wanna go home or do you wanna play video games with us?” Lucien asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “No judgment either way. But maybe decide quick, before some cops come by and get all up in our business.”

Ernest would really like to bury himself in all of his blankets but, in the interest of not continuing to screw up his personal relationships, he picks the right choice. “Video games, please.”

They collectively kick the CPU's ass at getting stars and Carmensita hugs him before he leaves, Lucien's taillights in the distance. “You're not a waste of space, okay? It'll get better, just don't let things get this bad again.”

He almost misses being the one to cheer her up. It's a shitty thing to miss, but at least he didn't go home feeling all squashed on the inside.

Ernest gets up the guts to call his Pop a few days later. He's totally cool about it, even though he sunk how much into that one room. Somehow that makes Ernest feel worse.

“Trust me, my credit in my early twenties was a /mess,/ I was really stupid with my money. It was bad. Like, scary bad. Your gramps flipped his lid when he saw my pile of bills on the table.”

“Mine's a mess too,” Ernest mumbles, knees folded up to his chest as he leans back against his headboard.

“Yeah, but it's more fixable than it looks. It'll just take time. If you owned a car or something that would be kinda rough, but hey, I turned it around, didn't I? Before I met your dad too, no way would he have dated pre-grad school me. Nuh-uh,” Pop laughs, a hiss-crack in his ear because he does this weird almost-silent laugh that Ernest makes fun of constantly. “Tell you what, I'll pay off your card so you're not getting those assholes calling you every day. Then you can focus on finding a job, I heard they have a youth program you'd still-”

“I'm sorry,” Ernest manages to wobble out, a big lump in his throat as the tears burn.

“What?” Pop's voice turns all anxious and concerned, which hurts even worse. “Hey, kiddo, it's alright. You don't have to be sorry. I know you were trying your best, it's really tough when you're starting out alone-”

“I'm so sorry,” Ernest hiccups, covering his face with his hand as he snots. “I can't pay you back and I probably never will and I'm gonna have to put Dad in a nursing home with cockroaches because they just slashed teacher pensions again and everything is so fucked /forever./”

“Ernest, Ernest, listen to me,” Pop's voice strains against the weak receiver of his phone. “Nothing is fucked, okay? No one's mad at you. We'll fix this, I promise. Ernest?”

It's a rough month, for sure. Pop comes to visit. Him and Dad have been really good at not-bitching-at-each-other since he crossed that adulthood threshold. Maybe it was child support that made them fight after all. Pop used to get these little digs into dad, telling him to quit and go into something with a future. Maybe him and money are just cursed or something.

He loses it again when they hug him at the same time. He's only gotten those at graduations and he's all out of those now. “We would do anything and everything for you, do you hear me?” Dad is halfway out of his lawn chair, the three of them on the back porch, having borrowed a little barbecue from Brian. “I'd rather have you here than starving in some apartment somewhere. Everything's going to be fine, mijo. I promise.”

“I'll bring you down for a visit whenever you want.” Pop assures him as he's leaving, hugging him again. It's so weird that he's taller than him now. “If you want to move, I'll help. But honestly, you might be better off here for a bit. Rent is going crazy in the city and it's not worth it.”

“How does a couple hours' drive make such a huge difference?” Ernest sniffs, shuffling in the driveway.

“I mean, I could explain but it's really boring.” He smiles and ruffles his hair. “You'll be alright, kiddo. Don't worry so much, okay?” Easier said than done, but it's well-meant. He accepts it.

He does qualify for extra help at the employment place, but unfortunately he has a humanities degree, which means no marketable skills. Which means part-time at the small bougie grocery store downtown, which is in fact a hell of a lot better than nothing.

“Excuse me.” An older woman clutching a plastic handbag strolls up to him while he's stocking shelves. “Do you have any of those sweet honey mustards?”

“No ma'am, sorry. We ran out.”

She narrows her beady eyes at him. “Why?”

Most of the time.

Carmensita's doing pretty well for herself between the Coffee Spoon and her piano lessons. Not move-into-her-own-place good, but she's got a nice little loft space over the shop. Sick prints up all over the walls, those fairy lights she's always liked, her keyboard set up beside her computer desk all tidy for when the kids come by. Ernest spends his off-hours googling potential side-hustles and making music for the first time in a while.

“-Practically everybody's stressed, yes!” Ernest snaps his fingers with one hand and runs his beats with the other. “But they press through the mess, bounce cheques, and wonder what's next!”

“In the heights! I buy my coffee and I go,” Carmensita sings clear as anything, laying into her keys. “Set my sights on only what I need to know...”

“Girl, how'd you get so good at that? Damn,” Ernest shakes his head after they stop recording. “It's like Mandy Gonzalez was right here.”

“Vocal coaching, son!” Carmensita grins, sticking out her thumb and pinky finger and twisting her wrist. “Taught me how to sing from the diaphraaaaaaagm.”

Ernest cracks up at the low note she hits, spinning around in her chair and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. “Hey, do you ever feel bad for being happy? Like, you're not supposed to be, or something?”

“Hell yeah, all the time,” Carmensita stretches, laying out on her secondhand piano bench and popping her back. “Like if I'm having a good day I get thinking, 'oh but if I was at X point, I could be doing Y.' I think I'm scared I'll get complacent or something.”

“Yeah,” Ernest sits up, catching his feet on the carpet. “But like, I don't know how long our whole generation's gonna be stuck like this. So if we can't enjoy this...”

“Oof, heavy stuff.” Carmensita swats at the bag of mini Oreos until he passes it to her, grabbing a handful himself. “This isn't so bad though. Who knows, maybe we'll look back with nostalgia goggles and miss it.”

“Yeah.” He settles back in the chair, toying with the music program on his aging laptop. “Maybe.”

Carmensita sits up, tugging her off-the-shoulder t-shirt back down where it had ridden up on her belly. “Wanna eat pot brownies and watch Bebop again?”

Ernest scoffs. “Is that even a question?”

By the time Pablo and Lucien come down for Thanksgiving Part One (there's always cliffhanger holidays with divorced parents, but it's not so bad anymore, it's just a part of it), his life has a routine. He's too grown to resent 'being another cog in the machine' in any significant way. Predictable income and free time is a blessing and a half and he's not giving it up unless he works his way up to something real good. Which will take time, and energy, and so, so much luck.

But right now he's got a favourite lunch and does his share of the chores (cleaning Damien's weird house only seems daunting, it just takes a lot of furniture polish and a big-ass feather duster). He sees his Pop as often as he can with him jetting all over the continent, texting when they're in different time zones and laughing about stupid coworker stories (his Pop's are more maddening, apparently higher salaries don't strain out the truly incompetent, somehow that's comforting, too).

He can pay for Coffee Spoon bagels now, coming to Carmensita's aid during lulls in her shifts. Both their schedules are pretty regular, so they exchange barely a message or two before coming to see each other at certain points in the week. With what pocket money they do have, they get concert tickets once or twice, go ice skating, and buy fries at the mall, wandering around the stores after dark and trying to pick out new versions of themselves. Mostly they just go home with small things they don't need and pricey chocolate bars they split. When she gets wicked cramps, he hits her up with aspirin and movies they've seen ten times. When he can't get out of bed, she sends him memes and cute dog videos.

Dad and Damien are gross as per usual, but they're also way less nosy than they used to be. It's weird to just take off for the day or night without any further questions. Though coming back is a different story.

“I got your text,” Hugo leans out of the study (yes, they have one, of course they do) when he hears Ernest's sock feet shuffling up the hallway. “What happened?”

“I don't know,” Ernest shrugs, unbuttoning his uniform shirt. “A sewer main burst while they were working on the parking lot. The fire department scooted everyone out of there pretty quick, it smelled awful. I had better get paid for the full shift.”

“You have a right to, you weren't the one driving the backhoe.” His dad grins, re-shelving a book before shutting the door. “On the bright side, unexpected free time is always a bonus.”

“It sure is, and I'm gonna use it to take a well-deserved nap.”

“Oh.” A beat while he fixes his expression. “Okay, I'll record that documentary for you.”

Ernest turns, hand on the ornate doorframe. “Is that on today?” Hugo's eager nod goes right between his ribs and he smiles. “Nah, I'll watch it with you. Naps mess up my sleep schedule anyway, make me all cranky in the morning.”

“As opposed to any other morning?”

“Rude,” he snorts while his dad chuckles. “I'll be down in a minute, okay? Just gotta get changed and stuff.”

“Okay.” Not five minutes into changing and checking his email, he gets a text.

HV: You want to order in for dinner? Two-for-one at the pizza place

HV: We can get those chicken bite things, I have a coupon :)

Ernest laughs, oddly reminded of coming home to Duchess after high school sleepovers. He sends a quick 'sure dad,' and takes some of his recycling down. They spend the evening in their boxers on the couch in the den, three of the four hairless cats Damien had adopted when they came through the shelter (he didn't last long post-Duchess once he had a taste of pet ownership) snuggled up beside and on top of them. It's not their first or last night spent this way.

He does quietly scream to the heavens at the mere suggestion of a girlfriend. “I'm a cashier- oh, sorry, 'customer service associate.' All I've got to offer someone right now is pocket lint and my winning personality.”

“But that is precisely what you should be offering in a relationship!” Damien insists, winding black tinsel up the staircase while Ernest does the same on the other side. “If wealth was a prerequisite, only the rich would fall in love.”

“I don't need to be rich, but I do need a little something to put in my dating profile, you know?” He's already down a few pegs courtesy of his 'no sex for me please' sexuality, but he won't bring that up now. Tis the season, and all that.

“You have much to include! You are in possession of many fine qualities,” Damien smiles at him, looking less vampire and more nerd with his hair up in a bun and his glasses on. His outfit is like Dickens and Mary Shelley had a weird baby, though. “Your father and I just think it would be nice if you had someone special in your life, that's all. We're not pressuring you to bring someone home for the holidays.”

“Well, that's appreciated,” Ernest ties off the tinsel, zipping up his hoodie again. What did thermostats ever do to fathers, anyway? “I'm just kind focusing on me right now. I'll get in a relationship when I'm in a better spot.”

“Ah, that is fair,” Damien grabs another handful of tinsel for the top banisters. “But love can happen upon you when you least expect it. Such was the case for me both times.”

Ernest had never decided if Damien getting sappy about his dead husband or his very-alive husband who is also Ernest's dad was worse, they might tie for first place.

EHV: Plz never let me become this gross n sentimental when I'm old plz

LB: You cry at Hamilton now and you've seen it so many fing times

EHV: ELIZA DESERVED BETTER GDI DON'T START W ME

CS: I WILL CRY AT ITS QUIET UPTOWN UNTIL THE DAY I DIE FIGHT ME SCRUB

EHV: YEAH THAT'S RIGHT

LB: Oh ffs I forgot this was the groupchat

Speaking of awkward sad times, this year's holidays are busy and bright and not as rushed as last year where he could barely visit anyone for more than a couple hours, but the same anniversary comes around. He's celebrating a third Christmas up at Damien's parents place over New Year's weekend, laughing it up while everyone is maybe too drunk, but he has a sixth sense when that text buzzes in.

CS: I wish missing someone didn't hurt so much :(

EHV: I know <3

CS: Dad's sad, but he's got Julian now

CS: I'm just by myself up in my old room, they're asleep already

EHV: Aw, shit. Do you want me to call you?

CS: No, you're with family. I'm fine

EHV: Everyone is tipsy and Dad is losing at trivial pursuit

CS: Okay then yes please <3

He makes his first appearance at open mic night in the cold and crisp new year. One technical glitch makes him nearly piss himself but it otherwise goes okay. Carmensita sings right after him, her dad on guitar and it's so frickin' good.

“God, you guys are so cool,” he says afterwards, spinning a bottle of Windex around his finger and taking Wild West-style aim at the glass in front of the baked goods.

“Glad I've still got it,” Mat grins, going back to counting the money. “You should do more of these, everyone was super into it. There's another place that does really good open mics out in the boonies, it's a cafe-arthouse thing.”

“You think so?” Ernest had immediately repressed all memory of his performance upon leaving the stage, it was a good coping technique.

“We should start a YouWatch channel!” Carmensita exclaims, as if for the first time, though she's been bugging him for weeks. “We'll do covers to get the subs, then post our own stuff! I bet we could get sponsors!”

“Mister Sella,” Ernest says very seriously. “Are you aware that your daughter is selling out to the man?”

'Sita hits him with a broom, but he does decide to take the leap. Not like starting a channel takes a lot of upfront capital investment, exactly. They do pool money for one good mic, and figure they'll work their way up if it turns out to be worth it. They pick songs from their early teens to indulge their own and others' guilty pleasure fix, and they do weird remixes of things that aren't songs, and he convinces Carmensita to do tag videos. It's fun, and some people like it. Not a ton, but hey, maybe someday.

They only complain on days they're not recording, not wanting to wreck their voices. This time they're slumped on Ernest's bed, him whinging continuously after his first attempt at online dating ended in utter failure, therefore he should give up and never try again, right? Less money on dating, more money to eventually adopt dogs?

“Ernest, I want you to try something.” Carmensita reaches over and covers his eyes, her voice only a little exasperated. “Envision what you want in a relationship. Dad taught me this, I used it to figure out where I wanted to go for college.”

“Okay. Does it work, or is it some hokey bullshit?”

“Quit being rude and humour me, dammit.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, feeling her well-manicured thumb jab his cheek. He wets his lips while he thinks for a moment. “Uh, I wanna be with someone who's funny and nice, fun to be around.”

“Okay, can we get a little more depth than that?”

“Give me a second here, woman,” he snorts. “I want- someone who's chill, who likes some of the stuff I like- not everything, but we gotta have stuff to do together, you know?” Carmensita hums. “I want- I really want someone I can build a future with. I don't wanna just play around, y'know? I want someone responsible- heh, maybe not too responsible. But someone I can trust, someone I can see myself having kids with.”

“Woah, you want kids-plural now?”

“Well not a whole bunch, but two would be nice. They can play with each other- anyway,” Ernest gulps, strangely caught up in the thought process. “I want someone who when I look at her- I just want all the good stuff in the world for her. She's going places and she's talented- I want someone who I really get, who gets me back. When people talk about marrying their best friend, that's- that's what I want. Someone who- accepts me, and we can be ourselves around each other, always.”

They're quiet a moment, Carmensita's hand still on his face. She takes it away slowly and smiles softly. “So, you want what you have with me, but with kissing?”

Ernest blanks for a solid thirty seconds before raising his finger. “Okay, first of all, when did you get so smooth?”

Carmensita laughs, loud and cute, sweeping some loose curls off her forehead and looking at him with these eyes- he's never seen her look at him like that until now. Or maybe he was just that clueless. “Is that really all you want to ask me?”

Ernest swallows, loud enough to hear it, sitting up a little straighter. “Can I- kiss you?”

“I don't know, can you?”

He groans outright, dropping his head on her shoulder while she giggles. “One of these days, 'Sita, one of these days.”

She smells really nice this close, maybe it's her shampoo? It's damn good, whatever it is. Her hands end up on his shoulders, not pressing, just holding him. He lifts his head and god, that little moment of eye contact before they both lean forward-

First kisses are not usually perfect, but he's willing to call this one close enough. She's warm and soft beneath his lips. His arms slip around her waist and it's like she was made to fit against him. He outright sighs when they part, kissing her nose just to hear her laugh again.

“Are you-” He can't quite find his words right now, his mind cycling through all the new and so very nice stimuli his senses are taking in. Carmensita's always been beautiful to him but he never thought, never let himself- “Do you- are you sure you wanna do this? I can't- I really like you, but I don't think I'll ever be able to do the physical stuff. You deserve-”

She presses a finger to his lips and he silences himself immediately, distracted by the light of her eyes. “There's nothing I want that online shopping with discreet shipping can't provide. None of that 'you deserve better' crap. I want you, if you want me back, then we should keep kissing and see where it takes us.”

Ernest works his jaw for a few moments, then nods. “Yeah, I can get behind that train of thought.”

Carmensita's laugh as he pulls her in for more smooches is the sweetest sound he's ever heard.

They end up cuddling up and falling asleep together- hahaha an asexual sleeping with someone on the first date, hahaha, puns and stuff -a bonus of neither of them having morning shifts the next day and Carmensita not having anyone expecting her back at home. He wakes up before she does, spooned up behind her, all their clothes rumpled, the blankets cocooned around them. He kisses the nape of her neck and sighs. He feels content, for the first time in a while.

The softest of knocks precedes the door creaking open. “Hey, Ernest, do you want- /oh/.”

The door shuts quickly, rousing Carmensita and making Ernest groan. “So much for keeping quiet about it.”

“Were we going to?” She yawns, sitting up and stretching. “Also, I'm bringing my silk pillowcases or we're only sleeping at my place. How do you live like this?”

“I dunno, I'm a mess.” He laughs and sits up, a tentative hand on her back. “I just- I'm scared. We've been friends for so long, I don't want to risk it going badly.”

“But if we don't risk it going badly, we also don't risk it going well.” She clumsily boops his nose, smiling dopily at him. “Guess which outcome I have my money on?”

“Girl, what money?” He laughs when she jabs him in the stomach. He leans in for a kiss after a moment, realizing that they can do that now, and smooches her cheek gladly. “So, if the Dads know, that means we're officially an 'us.'”

“We are.” She grins and kisses his cheek back. “I like being an us, it's pretty great so far.”

“It is.” He grins back, feeling like he can't stop. Shit, it's really happening. Is he in love? Is that an okay word to use after literally one very unexpected day? Probably not out loud.

He walks her downstairs, and they whisper-laugh a few walk-of-shame jokes before she heads out in her poofy pink coat, leaving him alone with the giddy feeling in his gut. In the dining room, Dad and Damien are doing maybe the worst acting job he's ever seen. “Are you two gonna make a big deal out of this?”

“Make a big deal out of what?” Damien inquires with convincing innocence, frying pan and spatula in hand.

“Yes, is there something we should make a big deal out of?” Hugo smiles, legitimately doing the newspaper crossword like he's a goddamn cartoon character.

Ernest sighs and drops into his chair, accepting several pancakes from Damien. “We literally just started- dating, I guess. No wedding bells, no grandbabies, nothing crazy yet, so please relax.”

“You know we're not like that.”

“Certainly, I'm not my mother.” Damien chuckles, almost unconsciously rubbing Hugo's robe-covered arm while they eat. So gross, but also goals.

“But, out of curiosity,” Hugo teasingly elbows him. “Did you kiss her yet?”

The dads laugh while Ernest howls. He'd text his Pop for backup, but he will get the exact same shit in different wording. He pulls out his phone and texts Lucien instead.

EHV: Hey Carmensita and I are dating just FYI

LB: About gd time, you've been heart eyes at her for literal years

CS: What

CS: Lucien why would you not tell me this

CS: I COULD HAVE SAVED SO MUCH TIME >:(

EHV: Oh shit group chat again

LB: Let's rename these things plz

EHV: Sorry babe <3

CS: Np hon ;*

LB: And here I am, third wheeling it again

EHV: You are basically married stfu

LB: That does not make this better

CS: Ladies ladies, you're both pretty

EHV: Sita knows whats uppppp

LB: Finishing BNHA this weekend y/n?

CS: Y, obvs

EHV: Also Y, I'm off at 7 don't watch ahead

LB: Don't walk so slow and we won't

EHV: Eat a dick

CS: G2g, love you guys

EHV: Love ya too

LB: <3

LB: Also, straaaaaaaaaaight

EHV: Fuckin really dude

LB: Someone has to

LB: Tell Dad I'm coming for dinner tonight

EHV: Will do, bye weeb

LB: Cya loser

#sinunamor #dream daddy #dream daddy hc #ddadds #ernest hemingway vega #carmensita sella #ernestsita

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skygemspeaks · 7 years

Text

Third Time’s the Charm

They’re 14, the first time MC asks Damien out.

Damien still went by “Dahlia” back then. Still dressed in pretty sundresses and sensible black Mary Janes, forced to be his mother’s little dressup doll.

Even at that age, MC already refused to answer to his birth name, and Dahlia had always admired him greatly for it.

(Through countless and increasingly irritated calls of his name, he’d sat convincingly oblivious, even when his mother’s eyes were wide, her nostrils flaring, her fists clenched.

“Miles Christopher Young, you answer me right now!”

He’d been grounded the entire winter vacation of their ninth grade, and still he stubbornly refused to acknowledge his name until, finally, his parents and teachers alike had decided this was a war no longer worth fighting, and had finally agreed to start calling him MC.)

They’re together for all of high school, practically attached at the hip.

Dahlia is the first one MC comes out to about being pansexual.

MC is the one that buys Dahlia’s first pack of pads, when he’s shut himself in his bedroom, crying and refusing to let anyone into his room, too ashamed to tell his mother.

They pose together for countless prom pictures, and MC gives Dahlia a corsage with a single, beautiful white rose.

(Innocence and purity; charm and innocence.)

But then they’re 18, and both leaving the nest for parts unknown, attending university on opposite ends of the country.

They try to make it work. They try so hard. But in the end, the stress, the distance, the workload, it’s too much. The phone calls and texts falter away, from daily to weekly to monthly, until quite suddenly it’s been three months and they realize they can’t remember why they’re still together at all.

And so they quietly cut ties and go their separate ways.

A clean cut, simple and easy, and so much more painful than either of them are willing to admit.

They’re 27 before they see each other next, and MC almost doesn’t recognize him at first.

Not that Damien can blame him.

Damien’s been on T for almost a year now, and has done away with his birth name for good.

MC smiles, wide and bright and joyful, telling Damien how proud he is of him, and Damien wonders for a dazed moment why he’d ever let this beautiful man go.

(He doesn’t tell MC about how, on some days, he had been the only one that kept Damien from falling apart at the seams.

He’d remember MC’s bullheadedness, sitting peacefully at his desk and reading a book as their furious fifth grade teacher called his name over and over again until finally she’d given in and said, with an exhausted sigh, “MC.”

And he’d looked up with the sweetest, most innocent smile.

“Yes ma’am?”)

They fall back in with each other so easily, it’s like nothing had ever changed, like they’re still the two goofy children who had imprinted upon each other on the first day of elementary school and had never let go.

They aren’t, of course.

They’re adults now, and reality isn’t quite so rose-tinted.

Damien is a single father, victim of an emotionally abusive transphobe of a fiancé who had walked out on him when Lucien was just a year old.

And MC is freshly widowed, still so lost and alone after losing Alex, clueless on how to be there for little 5-year-old Amanda when she wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying for her papa.

But maybe that’s why the universe had brought them back together.

Because they were both drowning, and only the two of them could bring each other back up.

Three months after being reunited, MC shows up at Damien’s door with a red face and a bouquet of elegant white camellias and charming little yellow cowslips dotted throughout.

(Perfected loveliness; youth and healing.)

The next four years are perfection.

They take holidays to the beach and weekend trips to museums and art galleries.

Damien gives Amanda her first camera and teaches her how to use it.

MC teaches Lucien how to ride a bike and picks him up when he punches classmates who make fun of his papa.

(Officially, MC scolds Lucien harshly for these instances and grounds him for a week.

Unofficially, he takes the little punk out for ice cream and praises him for looking out for his dad.

“Papa,” Lucien corrects him one day, and MC looks at him in confusion.

“Damien is papa,” Lucien explains. “You’re dad.”

And his voice is so matter-of-fact, as if he’s stating a simple truth of the universe, like the sun being yellow and snow being cold.

MC most definitely does not cry.)

But then, things start falling apart, like they always do.

The endearing little quirks they love about each other become irritating, the fights louder and more vicious.

Damien and MC both have their own problems, so many things to work through, so many hurts to heal from.

And maybe...maybe they’re not the right ones to help each other out after all.

Maybe they’re just hurting each other more by being together.

The second break-up is, if possible, even more painful than the first.

Amanda becomes withdrawn - why bother getting attached to anyone if they’re just going to leave you in the end? The only one she opens up to is her father, and to him she clings, like a baby koala. Because she’s already lost two parents. She can’t bear to lose a third.

Lucien becomes harder, more angry. He was 3 when MC had come into his life, and can’t remember a time without him. The longing for his dad is like a hurricane, a wild, fierce ache he doesn’t know what to do with. So he turns it outwards - to students who sneer about his weird last name and adults who call his papa she and her. But he never turns that snarling, explosive anger on his papa. Never on Damien.

They’re 39 when MC and Amanda move to quiet little Maple Bay, and it’s a few days before they actually become aware of each other’s presence.

Amanda is hanging out with some of her new friends (a pair of girls from her class, both named Emma), and MC, with nothing better to do, is at the Coffee Spoon, a nice little cafe within a few minutes’ walk from their new house.

He’s got a book open in front of him, and is sipping at his piping hot chai latte when the bell over the door gives a chime to announce a new customer.

He doesn’t look up as a pair of teenagers walks in talking about something or other, and he doesn’t notice how one of them freezes in his tracks, staring at MC with a breathless shock.

His friend stops too, and turns to look at him with confusion.

“You okay, dude?” asks his friend, Ernest, but he doesn’t reply.

“Dad?” he chokes out, voice just barely above a whisper.

And Ernest turns to follow his gaze, expecting to see Damien Bloodmarch.

But the man Lucien is staring at is short and broader in the shoulders. He has messy red curls and freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across the bridge of his nose. He’s engrossed in his book.

“You high or something, dude?” asks Ernest, but Lucien doesn’t reply.

“Dad!” he calls again, louder this time, as he walks up to the man sitting at the table, and his voice is maybe a little desperate, maybe a little vulnerable.

The man looks up, and Ernest sees his expression cycle through a million different emotions in the span of three seconds.

Confusion, bewilderment, dawning realization, tearfulness, joy, love.

He gets to his feet, pulling Lucien into a crushing embrace.

And the teen may be half a head taller than him, but he folds into the embrace with something akin to relief, like a tension Ernest hadn’t even known existed finally being released from his shoulders.

He’s quiet, almost docile, in a way that’s so completely foreign, Ernest is rooted to his spot.

They exchange a few quiet words, the stranger wiping what look like tears from Lucien’s cheeks.

Then, they pull apart, and Lucien watches the man leave with longing, watches him cross the street and head towards the Bloodmarch residence.

He doesn’t snap out of it until the man is completely out of view, after which he proceeds to ignore Ernest’s questions in favor of dragging him to that house that used to belong to the Wilson family until they’d moved last week.

He pulls out a key that Ernest hadn’t even noticed the other man give him, and let them into the house, where they sat watching television while they waited for...something.

An hour or two later, the front door finally opens, and a pretty older girl with healthy dark skin and a sweet, freckled face walks in.

She stops short when she sees the two strangers in the living room, and looks like she’s about to take on a fighting stance before Lucien quickly unfolds from his position on the couch and approaches her cautiously.

(He, better than anyone, knows not to underestimate her sweet and unassuming appearance.

She’s been taking kickboxing since she was 6, and had been formidable even then.

He shudders to think how dangerous she must be now.)

“Calm down, Manda, it’s just me,” Lucien says by way of greeting, and her expression morphs into confusion.

“Who is “me”?” she asks, eyes narrowed.

“What, don’t recognize your own baby brother?” he asks, tone teasing, and she gasps.

“LUCY!” she shrieks, tackling him, and Ernest would probably be laughing at the ridiculous nickname if he wasn’t just so darned confused.

It takes about ten minutes for her to get her squealing and tears back under control.

“Where’s dad?” she asks. “Where do you live? Can you take me there? I wanna see pops! Is he home from work yet? How-”

“They’re busy, Manda,” Lucien finally interrupts, and Amanda’s eyes light up.

“’Busy’?” she asks, her smile taking on a sly edge, and Lucien huffs and rolls his eyes, pushing her face away from how annoyingly close it was to his own.

“Talking,” he stresses. “Busy talking.”

And Amanda’s smile takes on a softer cast.

“About time,” she says. And her voice is hopeful as she asks, “Do you...do you think they’ll...?”

She doesn’t say the words, worried that vocalizing them will break the fragile hope that’s woven tight around her heart.

Because she wants this. More than anything she’s ever wanted in her life. Wants it so much she can barely breathe, so much she doesn’t know how she’ll survive if it doesn’t happen.

And Lucien, for all of his cynicism and jadedness, wants it just as fiercely as she does.

“God I hope so.”

It doesn’t take MC 3 months to ask Damien out this time.

It’s been nine years since their fragile happiness had broken apart, and in that time, he’s done a lot of thinking.

A lot of learning and growing and regretting.

And now that they’ve found each other again, he’s not going to let go a third time.

They sit and talk for a long, long time.

They talk about their lives, their hopes, their problems, their children, their love.

They talk about everything that had gone wrong the last two times, and they talk about whether they’re willing to give it one last shot.

After five hours of talking things over and working things out, they decide to take some time apart to think things over.

MC goes home with a spring in his step and hope in his heart.

Amanda and Lucien, as well as the other boy from the coffee shop whose name MC never got, are slumped over each other on the sofa, fast asleep while an episode of Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers murmurs quietly in the background.

With an exasperated smile, MC turns off the television and tucks a blanket around the teens.

Lucien returns home the next day just before noon with a kink in his neck and a smile on his lips.

He badgers his father for the next hour or two about what he’s going to do about his relationship with MC until Damien finally gets fed up and throws him out of the house to go and “bother someone else for a bit.”

Lucien obviously takes this as a good sign, because he’s wearing a satisfied grin across his cheeks.

Damien wants to be annoyed at how easily his son can seem to read him.

But he doesn’t have any room in his heart to feel anything but excitement, happiness, love, optimism.

When his doorbell rings a few hours later, he opens it excitedly to find MC standing there, hiding behind an enormous bouquet of dahlias.

(Dignity and elegance; commitment and everlasting bonds.)

And Damien can’t help but think back to that innocent little girl more than three decades ago, with her pretty little sundresses and sensible black Mary Janes, with her scraped knees and fingers covered in paint.

He wonders if she’d be proud of the person he’d become.

He sure hopes so.

#dream daddy #damien bloodmarch #dadsona #amanda ann #lucien bloodmarch #ddadds #ernest hemmingway vega #long post #raw fic #third time's the charm

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darveyfics · 7 years

Note

Can you write anything where Harvey is jealous ... I have read so many fanfiction about darvey but rarely about Harvey being jealous .... Thanks!

“Seeing Green”

His fist clenches as he watches her talking to him from the corner of his eye. No, not talking, flirting.

He takes another swing of his scotch, settling it down hard enough to shake the tall rounded table in front of him.

“You alright, man?” His current companion asks him, John something-or-other. He had been invited to some Harvard Law Alumni party and wasn’t even planning on attending until Donna suggested he should go.

“Who knows, you may actually have a decent time.” She had told him.

“Come with me.” Harvey had asked without thinking, and she had agreed just as quickly, just as surprisingly. It wasn’t an odd thing for him to do, invite Donna places, them doing things together. They are friends. But it was different this time, things have been different this time. They had been different.

Ever since their kiss, ever since he broke up with Paula because he couldn’t continue lying to her or himself.

But they hadn’t talked about it anymore.

He had confronted her about the kiss, they had argued, he broke up with Paula, he told Donna… and that was that. They kept skirting around the subject for a few weeks now, the air around them constantly thick with tension.

This is my own damn fault, he thought to himself as he saw Donna talking to that jerk. I should’ve gone after her, talked to her. She knows how I feel about her, right? Knows I still need time to wrap my mind around this before we jump into anything?

“Harvey, you ok?” The tall blonde man in front of him asked again.

Harvey’s head swiveled to face him, sharing a tight smile. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just going to-“ He picked up his empty glass and headed in the direction of the bar. John nodded and turned to talk to someone else Harvey didn’t recognize.

He waved the bartender over, asking for another drink. As he waited, his eyes landed on the back of fiery red hair again. He let out a frustrated sigh. What the hell was she doing talking to him? In truth, he would’ve been annoyed seeing her talking to any of these men, but Damien? Back in college, Damien had been in a couple of Harvey’s classes and he would run into him from time to time at events and parties. He seemed decent enough, smart, kind, but Harvey soon realized what a waste of a human being he was whenever he talked to women, constantly trying to add another notch to his bed post.

The bartender brought Harvey his drink and he quickly took another swing at it, wincing as it burned down his throat.

Eyes still on Donna and Damien, he watched as the scumbag in question touched her arm and laughed at something she said.

That’s it, Harvey thought, his blood boiling as he watched Damien flirting with Donna, with his- friend? Colleague? Soon-to-be more than friend? He knew she wasn’t his to claim- wasn’t anyone’s- but it still didn’t stop him from wanting to take this guy out.

He finished his scotch, taking one last courage gulp before marching over to them.

“…and then I told him, do you even know who you’re talking to? I mean, how could he not know that I- oh, hey Harvey.” Damien cut his anecdote short upon seeing Harvey approach. He flashed him a smile, green eyes bright and suit too tight against his skin. Harvey clenched his fists at the mere sight of him.

Donna turned around. “Harvey what-“ she stopped short when she felt Harvey’s lips on her cheek, lingering just a little too long.

“There you are, honey, I’ve been looking for you.” Harvey smiled, placing one arm around her waist, thumb gently massaging her over the black dress she wore that night.

Donna’s face held a surprise expression as Harvey held her close, giving her the most physical contact they’ve shared since their kiss weeks ago.

“Oh.” Damien’s voice held shock and disdain with just one word. “I didn’t know you two were-“ He motioned between them.

Harvey nodded, looking as proud as whenever he won a case. “Yeah, going on for twelve years now, actually.” He smirked at Damien. It wasn’t a lie, exactly either. They had been in each other’s lives for twelve years now….

“Thanks for keeping her company while I talked to some of my old buddies, Daniel.”

“It’s Damien.” Damien responded with offense at not being remembered properly.

“Right.” Harvey replied. “Anyway, we should actually start heading out now. Take care, Daniel.” Harvey took a still speechless Donna’s hand in his, leading her away from an annoyed Damien.

They gravitated through the large ballroom of alumni before finding a secluded area to the far right side of the room.

“What the hell was that?” Donna whispered angrily, hazel eyes alarmed and wide.

Harvey scoffed. “You’re welcome.”

Donna narrowed her eyes. “For what?!”

“For saving you….” Harvey said as if it was the obvious answer.

“From what, Harvey? A really nice guy who enjoyed talking to me?”

Harvey frowned. “You can’t be serious? That guys’s a total dick!”

Donna rolled her eyes. “How the hell would you know?”

“I know him, Donna. We went to school together. The guy is a complete ass.”

“Well he seemed nice.” Donna countered with a smile and Harvey saw her eyes twinkling with delight.

“You don’t- you don’t like him, do you?”

“What’s it matter to you?” She asked angrily.

“What- you’re kidding right?” Was she being serious right now?

“No, Harvey.” She crossed her arms, annoyance settling in her features.

“Donna you can’t- he’s not- I thought we-“ Harvey thought his head was going to explode, a million thoughts running through his mind all at once.

“You thought we what, Harvey?” Donna asked, softer now, but still frustrated.

“We kissed, Donna.” Harvey whispered. He subconsciously looked around the ballroom they were in, trying to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation, though he doubted anyone there would care.

Donna felt like someone threw ice water at her, but recovered just as quickly. “We did.” She stated plainly.

Harvey’s impatience was growing thin. “You kissed me.” He reiterated, emphasizing the point he was trying to make.

Donna sighed. “I remember, Harvey.”

“So, was that nothing, then? Did me breaking up with Paula not make things clear?”

Donna shook her head. “You never said anything else, Harvey. I kissed you, we argued, you broke up with Paula and then you just- you did nothing.”

“I thought that was the something.” Harvey said, exasperated.

“And what was I supposed to do then? You told me you broke up with her and walked away. Was I supposed to go running after you? Kiss you again? For what? For you to keep ignoring this?” She waved a hand between them.

“Donna….”

“No, Harvey, I’ve followed you for over a decade now, and I’m tired. I’m tired of me always being the one who does a damn thing about anything. I kissed you, I gave you the signal, Harvey. Again. And you missed it, again.” Her voice was on the verge of breaking, but she was trying her best to keep it together in public.

“But I asked you here, tonight, with me.” He told her, emphasizing each word.

Donna furrowed her eyebrows. “What are you talking ab- was this a date, Harvey?”

Harvey shook his head. “I- I don’t-“ He covered his face in his hands before taking a deep breath, collecting himself. Donna looked on, concern now on her features.

“I’m not good at this, Donna.” Harvey spoke softly.

“Not good at what?” Donna wondered, though Harvey had inkling she knew exactly what he meant.

“I’m not good at-“ He waved his hands between them. “Doing this- being- romantic-“ He practically spat out as if the word was taboo.

Donna almost laughed, but kept it together. “This was your way of being romantic? Inviting me to your Harvard Law alumni party? Which is, by the way, boring as hell.” She looked around the room unimpressed by the pool of middle-aged men drinking and making lame law jokes, bragging about their high class life.

“You didn’t look bored talking to Damien.” Harvey mumbled.

Donna looked back him. “Are you actually jealous?” She let a smile cross her features now, amusement fully settling in.

“I-“ Harvey couldn’t seem to find the words at the moment, looking at the ground, wishing it could just swallow him whole.

Donna decided to take pity on him. “I wasn’t flirting.” She finally spoke.

Harvey’s head shot up.

“I was acting interested, for his poor pathetic sake.” Donna moved her hair back, glancing in the direction of where she had been talking to Damien, now seeing him talking to some other woman.

“Acting?” Harvey prodded. He just had to make sure.

“Well yeah, you know I couldn’t pass a chance to put my best acting skills to the test.”

“So you weren’t actually… into him?” Donna rolled her eyes.

“No, Harvey, the guy’s a total dud. And quite frankly, no one should be wearing a suit that tight. Ever.” She shook her head, remembering her conversation with Damien.

Harvey smirked, relief washing over him. Donna smiled back at him and for once it felt like the old days, them hanging out, going to these rich parties that weren’t even all that enjoyable, but they always made the best of the night by sneaking out early to catch dinner, making fun of everyone they talked to that night.

The silence stretched out too long, their smiles fading, and suddenly they were just staring at each other. Harvey looked away.

He cleared his throat. “I- uh- I’m sorry.”

Donna furrowed her brow. “For what?”

“For not making it clear sooner.” Harvey stated, voice heavy with disappointment at himself.

“Making what clear?” Donna stood taller now, awaiting his response.

Harvey looked around the room. Upon finding a pair of French doors that let out to the garden terrace, he grabbed Donna’s hand and led her outside.

Donna shivered as the cool night breeze hit her suddenly. “Harvey what-” His lips were on hers no sooner than when he shut the door behind them.

Donna stood frozen for only a split second until she felt herself slipping, only to grab a hold of Harvey’s biceps to settle her. His lips were soft against her own, and she could taste the expensive scotch on his tongue as it protruded hers for more access. Her arms made their way around his neck, running a manicured hand through his hair, like she had done over two weeks ago. Only this time, she could feel his arms wrapped around her, holding her body so close to his she swore she could feel his heart beating alongside her own. Her mind was getting foggy, by his touch, his taste… She knew her lungs were screaming for oxygen, but she couldn’t seem to care, only pulled him even closer against her, kissing him harder still.

A moment later she felt Harvey’s lips part her own. She struggles to remember how to breathe again, as her lips remain parted, eyes still closed until she felt more than heard him speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner.” He murmurs, his breath tickling her skin. Her eyes flutter up to him.

“I’m just scared as hell to lose you.” He continues, hand reaching up to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek in the process.

“Harvey….”

“And then I saw you talking to Damien and-“ Donna nodded in understanding. Because she knows that feeling too well. It’s what caused her to kiss him in the first place. She hates that they’ve both been too scared for too long.

Reaching up to caress his cheek, she spoke. “You’re not going to lose me, Harvey.” Her voice was soft and reassuring. He smiled.

He leaned again, meeting her lips for the second time in under five minutes and he felt like he was home. She was his home.

They kept their second kiss brief, lips merely brushing each other before they parted again, foreheads resting together.

“I want this to work.” He spoke against her.

“I know. So do I.” She whispered back.

“I just need you to be patient with me, I need you to call me out if I’m being an ass-“

“I already have a full-time job, Harvey.”

Harvey gave her a sarcastic smile. “Haha.” She laughed, turning his smile genuine.

“I just- I love you too much to screw this up.” Harvey told her, a sigh leaving him.

Donna looked at him sadly, wanting so badly to ease his worries, but she didn’t know how.

“Just do what you’ve always done, Harvey.” Her hands caressed his cheek, touching the corner of his lips where they were stained with her red lipstick. “Just be there for me.”

Harvey smiled. “I can do that.” Her grin matched his own, leaning up to kiss him one last time before she grabbed his hand, starting to lead him inside again.

“Good, now, what do you say we ditch this lame party and head back to my apartment?” She glanced back at him, eyes twinkling and smile teasing.

Harvey didn’t have to be told twice. “I think that’s a solid plan.” He caught up to whisper in her ear, making the hairs on her arm stand on end.

As they made their way outside, another thought occurred to Harvey.

“Hey, Donna?” She turned to look at him, seeing his puzzled expression.

“Yes, Harvey?” They made their way out of the lobby now.

“You said you were only acting with Damien, right? You weren’t really flirting?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Yes, Harvey.”

“So… you were fake flirting, then?”

Donna tilted her head, looking at him with amusement. “I guess you could call it that, yes.”

They were now outside, waiting to call a cab. Harvey stood there for a moment, hand still holding onto Donna’s.

“Did you ever fake flirt with me?” He spoke at last.

Donna let out a loud laugh, head thrown back at his words. She heard a cab honking at them, signaling their impatience despite their quick arrival.

She grabbed his hand and lead him to the waiting cab, laughter still playing on her lips, and opened the door as Harvey stood there still with a quizzical expression.

“Well, did you?” Harvey asked again.

Donna only sent him a look as they made their way inside the cab. She gave the cab driver her address, ignoring Harvey’s wide innocent look of wonderment.

“No.” She finally told him, some minutes later. She felt him sigh in relief and she rolled her eyes in amusement. Seemed to be the theme of the night, she told herself.

Harvey smiled. “Good.” He nodded, sharing a smile with her.

The cab dropped them off five minutes later. Harvey paid the driver before stepping out to lend Donna a hand.

As they made their way to her door, Donna stopped walking, swiveling around to face Harvey. “Except one time.” She told him.

Harvey frowned. “Wait, what?” Donna gave him a teasing smile, continuing to walk to the inside of her building.

“Wait Donna, which time?” He jogged after her, stopping when they reached her apartment door.

As Donna began unlocking her door, he continued to prod. “Was it�� the other time?” He whispered the last part, making her laugh again.

She unlocked the door, and turned around to face him. “No, Harvey.” She glanced down at his lips before meeting his eyes again, grabbing his hand to lead him inside. “Nothing about that night was faked.”

#Suits #Darvey #Donna x Harvey #darvey fic #jealousy #rated t #prompt #post episode #author: ali

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ernmark · 7 years

Note

i LOVE the fic you wrote of lord arum turned into a human!! its such a fun concept and you executed it perfectly!!!! you said you didnt know where to go with the idea, but if you ever figure it out, i would love to read it!

Part 1 is here, and you can find @disasterscenario‘s art of it here and here.

There’ll be more soon.

Damien’s horse stands past the edge of the clearing, tugging at the reins that keep it secured to a tree. His intention had been to keep it well out of sight, that it wouldn’t frighten the madman in the clearing. Now that he’s certain that mad human is a very sane lizard, the choice seems far less practical. He doesn’t trust Lord Arum’s balance to keep him upright long enough for Damien to untie the horse and bring it close, and so they must take every wavering step together.

It isn’t that he’s bothered by the task– but the ground is unsteady and slick from the morning’s rain, and Lord Arum keeps stumbling into him, and the feeling of another body pressed so tight against his is putting decidedly unchivalrous thoughts into his head.

Saint Damien, he chants in the privacy of his thoughts. Give me your tranquility. Your tranquility. Your–

Lord Arum’s foot slips, and instinctively Damien’s arms tighten around him. He can’t see anything but those wide, violet eyes.

He clears his throat. “Just a little farther. We’re almost there.”

Lord Arum may be entirely human at the moment, but something reptillian must still cling to his clothes along with the perfume of wildflowers. The moment the wind shifts through the trees, Damien’s horse tosses its head and paws angrily at the ground as if expecting a battle. It doesn’t bolt, thank the saints– it’s far too well-trained for that.

And then comes the task of getting him onto the horse.

It takes a moment to even realize that it is a task– the act of fitting his foot into the stirrup and swinging his leg over the saddle is so familiar that it’s more instinct than conscious movement, but he’s been riding since he was just a page.

As it turns out, it’s even more difficult than walking.

Simply getting Lord Arum’s foot into the stirrup first requires that he lift it higher than his knee, aim his toes at a remarkably small target, stand on one foot without falling over, and not stick his entire bare foot through the metal ring. For every successful step, there are a dozen small failures, and ever-louder sounds of frustration from a very flustered lizard.

More than once, the thought crosses Damien’s mind that he could simply seize Lord Arum’s foot and put it in the stirrup where it belongs, but the thought feels wrong even before it’s fully formed.

“There,” he says once the foot is in place. “Now brace yourself against the saddle with your hands– yes, just like that. And push against the stirrups with this leg–”

Lord Arum is halfway up the horse’s side before he loses his momentum and starts to sink. Damien succumbs to what is quickly becoming a habit, and he rushes to catch him. The fact that Lord Arum is significantly higher now only occurs to him when he feels a loosely-clad backside against his chest and bare thighs under his palms.

He piously informs Saint Damien that this isn’t helping things in the slightest.

“Try to stand upright,” he says, forcing himself to clear his mind. “Put all your weight onto this leg.” He taps it lightly. “As for the other leg– is there any chance of you swinging it over the saddle?”

Lord Arum’s fingernails are already leaving indentations on the leather, he’s gripping the saddle so tightly.“Absolutely none.”

Damien recalculates accordingly, tugging at a long stretch of fabric of Lord Arum’s garment so that it sits beneath him. “Then try to turn yourself a little so that you’re facing me– yes, like that– and sit back.”

Lord Arum sits on the saddle and stares imperiously down at him. “This can’t be right.”

“No, it is.”

“I’ve seen you ride, honeysuckle. I know when I’m facing the wrong direction.”

“You’re riding sidesaddle. I assure you, you’ll be more comfortable this way.” Leather saddles and horsehair aren’t kind to exposed skin on the best of days, and Lord Arum has quite a lot of it.

The proper thing to do would be to lead the horse by the reins, but Lord Arum looks uncomfortable enough when the steed shifts its weight. Damien would rather not think of what would happen when it starts moving over uneven ground.

Tranquility, he tells himself, and climbs into the saddle behind Lord Arum.

His fears weren’t unfounded: as soon as he nudges the horse into a walk, Lord Arum tenses, twisting to regain his balance with a tail that no longer exists. Damien wraps an arm around his waist before he can knock himself off the saddle. Instinctively, Lord Arum flattens himself against Damien’s chest.

“It’s alright,” Damien murmurs. “I won’t let you fall.”

“I know that.”

The ride passes in silence, broken only by the sound of hooves on the packed dirt of the path. Lord Arum is taller than Damien– tall enough that he has no trouble resting his chin on Damien’s shoulder while they ride. It’s an odd gesture, at once strangely reptilian and undeniably endearing.

“You don’t smell the same,” Lord Arum mutters under his breath.

“Hm?”

“I can barely smell you at all, and the things I smell aren’t the same. It’s like you aren’t even here.”

“Is it that different?” Damien asks.

“It isn’t just smell, either. I’m this close to you, and I can’t hear your heart beating. Half of your voice is gone, Honeysuckle. There are entire colors that I can’t see anymore. I’m starting to wonder how you humans survive.”

“We’ll find a way to restore you.”

“You say that, but you don’t know.”

“I swear it. I won’t rest until I do.”

#rainstorms by june #the penumbra podcast #writing prompt #fanfiction

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for-the-night-official · 7 years

Text

Amethyst Scales and a Hardened Heart

Ao3

Chapter Summary:

Andrei deals with the aftermath of being kicked out of his old school.

Chapter 1: The World is a Bird Cage

Andrei bit back a sigh, leaving the principal’s office. It’s been a nice 2 months, he thought wistfully. Though it really hadn’t, thanks to all the bullying. Still, at least he got to go to school and learn things. He couldn’t say that he was surprised that he was getting expelled, but it still sucked. Oh man, what was his mom going to say? She was going to be so mad at him. What was he going to do when he got home? There was still another 3 hours until school let out, so she would definitely know something was up when he got home early.

The principal hadn’t called his mom, mainly because there was no phone to call. With all the moving around that his mom did, trying to make sure he stayed in school, they didn’t have enough money to have things like phones, or private transport, or even computers. Their apartment wasn’t the best either. It had a bedroom, a living-room-turned-bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. All in all, they weren’t doing very well, and he had gotten expelled (again) so they were probably going to have to move (again). It sucked, but he had gotten used to it. In all honesty, he didn’t even have to pack much. He only had his clothes, bed sheets, some hygiene things, and his school supplies.

Speaking of, he thought, slipping back into his classroom. Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy in and out. Even if all he wanted to do was grab his stuff, he knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

“My oh my, what happened?” Damien asked. Andrei was happy to see that he was sporting the beginnings of a black eye, though he was equally ashamed.

“I got expelled,” Andrei mumbled, more toward the teacher than to Damien.

“Really now!” Damien said, taking on a surprised tone. “Why is that, I wonder?” Andrei grit his teeth, knowing his irritation didn’t show on his face. He had long since learned that showing emotion simply made things worse. Ducking his head, he went to collect his things from his desk. After quickly shoving everything into his bag, he went to sling it onto his back, being mindful of his tail, when the teacher finally spoke to him.

“I hope this serves as a good lesson as to what happens when you let your anger take over you. People should really be more in control of their emotions. The fact that you let one comment get to you. I know your… species… has problems with controlling themselves, but that doesn’t excuse your behaviour. You have been most painful, I wonder what your poor mother must think of you…” she trailed off.

“No matter. If you expelled, take your things and leave. Don’t come back to this classroom, you’ll only make a nuisance of yourself.” With that, she turned away from him and towards the class, clearly dismissing him.

That’s what I was trying to do in the first place, Andrei thought to himself. That last comment, about his mother, had caused him to wince internally. He didn’t want to disappoint his mother. Not again.

His mother was not like him, not Serdra, so she shouldn’t even be going through this. Ever since his father got his mom pregnant and left, her life had gotten so much worse. It’s one thing to be a single mother, it’s another to be a single mother to a Serdra. To make matters worse, he didn’t have any of his mother’s features, meaning he looked 100% Serdra. They couldn’t hide his identity, and so his mom had to deal with all the drawbacks of having a Serdra child, unable to hide any of it.

These drawback included making minimum wage, since not many want to hire a woman that willing carried a Serdran child. Because of this, she has to work at least to 2 jobs to keep food on the table. His shitty father doesn’t provide anything, so mom has to do everything herself. It… it isn’t ideal, but it works well enough.

Lately though, mom has been stressed. They move so often since he’s always getting expelled for one reason or another, so money has been getting tighter and tighter…

As he exits the school he realizes that he doesn’t want to tell her that he has been expelled again. They are so low on money right now that it would put them in a really tough spot. In fact, he doesn’t even know if they have the money right now. It’s only been 3 months since their last move. There’s no way he could tell her that they would have to move again and go to a different school system.

He still had an hour or so before school let out, and an hour and a half until his mom would expect him home, should she be there. He decided to wander a bit before heading home. He wanted to figure out how to talk to her and what to say. So, he chose a direction and walked.

A couple hours later, Andrei arrived at home. Luckily for him, his mother wasn't quite home yet. Despite the length of his walk, he hasn't yet figured out what he was going to say. After all, what could he say to make it right?

Nothing. There was nothing to say to not disappoint her. There was nothing to say to her to change the fact that they had to move again.

Maybe he should just quit school altogether? Obviously, it wasn’t working out for him. He could do something to earn money… but no, he was too young for that. In three years, when he is 14, he could, his mother wouldn't let him otherwise.

In the midst of his musing, the front door of the house had opened. Despite the fact that the house was tiny, and you could hear the door open from anywhere in said house, he hadn’t registered the noise. What he did register, however, was his mother’s concerned face in front of his.

“What’s wrong, darling?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Um…” Andrei replied, sliding his eyes to the left. “Well you see…” His mind was racing. What was he to say? Hey mom, can we move? I got expelled. How you ask? Oh, I punched a kid in the face and gave him a black eye. No big deal.

“You did what?!” Her eyes were blown wide. Shit, did he say that aloud? Again? Really? That’s what got him in trouble in the first place.

“Yes? But to be fair he started it.” Wow, he really did not open up this conversation in the best way. Why couldn’t he control his stupid mouth?

“What do you mean ‘he started it?’ Who started it? How? Why? What?” With each word, she was looking more and more distressed.

“Maybe I should start from the beginning?”

“Ya think?”

“I was just minding my own business when this kid -Damien, you remember him?-, he came up to me and started saying these really mean things. I was gonna ignore him, really I was, but eventually he brought you up? And he was gonna call you a whore for sleeping with my father cuz he’s Serdra and stuff, and I wasn’t gonna let that happen cuz you’re my mom yeah? And you’re not a whore, you’re nothing like that. And then before I realized I punched him. I’m sorry mom. I’m so sorry.” And then he was crying.

For a second, his mom just stood there, shocked. He had said it so fast that it took her a second to process it all. When she had, her expression softened. “Oh dear.” Then she was hugging him.

“You shouldn’t have to say sorry for that. It’s that boy who should say sorry. That boy and the whole world. This world is a bird cage, trapping you and keeping you from spreading your wings.” She clutched him tighter. “One day, one day you will be able to spread them, you will fly far, far away from this place and it’s prejudice.”

Andrei mustered up a weak laugh. “Mama, I’m a snake, not a bird, how can I fly?”

“Who said that just because you’re a snake that you can’t fly anyway?” she replied. They took a moment to laugh at the idea of Andrei growing a pair of wings and flying away.

“Either way, I am not ashamed of my past and I’m not ashamed of you. You are my son, beautiful, and precious, and if this place can’t recognize that then it doesn’t deserve you.”

For a few minutes they just sat there, holding each other, tears streaming down their faces. Then Andrei pulled back.

“Thank you, mom,” he mummered.

“What for?”

“For being the best mom ever. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d survive, you’re strong. This I know. Now, enough with the sap. Where do you want to move to next?” Maybe it was sad that this was practically tradition, but it was what it was. Whenever he got kicked out, they would sit down and figure out where to go next. Then, his mom would figure out how to get them there as cheaply as possible.

Maybe her methods weren’t exactly… legal? But they got to where they wanted to go, and that’s all that really mattered. After all, laws are made for those who are already living comfortably, right?

So here he was again. He was on a new planet, in a new school, surrounded by new types of species and yet…

“Look, it’s a Serd,” the kids snickered. Andrei hunched further into himself. Here he was again, being bullied. He couldn’t say that he was surprised, per se, just sadly resigned. He wondered how long it would take for him to find the ring leader. To find the person who would be bullying him the most.

“Hey, Serd! What’s your name?” a kid a little taller than he asked. Ah, was this the guy? Should he answer, should he not? Well, it would probably be harder later down the road if he didn’t give his name.

“Andrei Schlange,” he said, looking the taller kid in the eyes. Better to get this over with.

“Well Schlange, this is my school.” Ah, so he was right. He was the main bully. Lovely. He decided not to reply to the comment, unsure as to how violent he was. “We don’t want your kind here…” on and on this kid went. As though he hasn’t heard this shit before.

It had been a couple months since he was kicked out of his old school. He was 12 now, and already done with the world. The thing is? He still sort of thought he deserved it, he was Serdran and his first thought was always harming someone who bullied him. So yeah, maybe he deserved to be treated like trash. He was still tired though. Already he was wondering how long it would be until he snapped and punched someone. Or until he was thought to be cheating on a test. How long would it be until he got kicked out again.

“You payin’ attention to me?” the kid in front of him asked. I mean, obviously he wasn’t but he didn’t really want to get punched nor did he really want to punch someone. Well, that last bit was a lie. He kinda wanted to punch the kid in front of him. Either way, it probably wasn’t wise to let his feelings get the best of him.

“Yeah,” he muttered, looking down at his feet this time. He wanted to hide the anger he knew would be showing in his eyes. Why did he think he could come back to school? Why did he hope it would be different?

“Good, wouldn’t want a shitty Serd to think he was better than me, yeah?” The kid, along with a few others, laughed. Serd. He hated that word. A slur for Serdrans, as though they weren’t even worth the effort of saying their whole name. He felt the urge to punch this kid. He was holding back, of course, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. He could fight this kid, but then he’d be kicked out again, and then his mom would be disappointed, and it would just be a mess.

“Though, gotta say, wonder who your mom is. She ain’t Serd, we don’t have any adult Serds here. You a half breed or somethin’?” Andrei didn’t really like that term. Half breed. It made him feel less like a person and more like an animal or something. He’d prefer the term mixed, if anything.

“And if I am?”

“Then I’d say your mom is kind of easy, isn’t she? To willingly lay with a Serd.” Just like that, Andrei’s temper flared. Not his mom. Not again. He raised his fist to punch him, when someone grabbed his hand.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

Cliffhanger! Don’t worry, you’ll know what happens next week ;)

But writing long passages is hard! This is only 2k and it took so long to write! Mad props to those that write 5-10k chapters. MAD PROPS!

This is currently unedited. I will be getting someone to edit it at a later date, but I wanted to get this out today (even if there’s on 30 minutes until tomorrow...)

As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated but reposts are bad! You see someone reposting our stuff, let us know! Hope you enjoyed! Until next time -Tash

#Tash #writing #webcomic #for the night webcomic #side stories #Andrei's background #tw: bullying #i should probably sleep #oh well

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553butterfly553 · 6 years

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Kasamatsu x Kise - Remember When… 4

Attack

The changes Kise made to himself and his car didn't last the whole day, but when they did change back no one was around to see it. Thankfully, Kise and Kasamatsu were in the men's bathroom together with no one else in there. Both males were shocked to see the sudden change. They were glad that for the most part, people were either in class or like Kasamatsu, done with classes for the day and heading home. “Um... Kise, you're normal again.” Kasamatsu knew Kise was aware of it, but he felt the need to say it anyway. “I am... What do we do now?” Kise was genuinely horrified by his true looks at that moment. Even though they had no more classes to attend to, there were still people around who might fangirl over him. “Change back dumbass!” “I can't!” Kise's whinny voice caused another level of irritation for the human. “Do it or I'll hit you!” He says that, but he'd already smacked Kise's head as he spoke the threat. “But Kasamatsu! I can only change once every 24 hours!” “What the hell?! Why didn't you mention how long it'd last then?” “I didn't know it wouldn't last the whole day!” Both males were practically yelling now and had their voices echoed back at them. Realizing this, they fell silent in fear of drawing attention from people walking by outside. “We have to sneak you out then,” Kasamatsu muttered as he approached the door. He peeked out to see only a few people in the hallway, but none of them seemed like a threat. They were mostly reading or chatting with people as they got ready to head home or to their next class. “Are any girls out there?” “Some, but I think it'll be okay.” “You sure?” “Just get out here and act normal!” Kasamatsu then paused before shaking his head. “No, wait. Act as I do, so be quiet and walk. Don't look at anyone and don't be suspicious.” “I can do that!” He could not do that. The two were spotted instantly and only a few feet from the men's bathroom. They were seen due to Kise waving at a girl who instantly saw him. He tried to shush her, but she shrieked like a crazed fangirl. It was like she was summoning other fangirls. It was odd to watch and Kasamatsu only could think of it as a battle cry or something like that. “It's that model, Kise Ryouta!” Kasamatsu didn't know where they all came from, but a bunch of girls and guys surrounded the pair. “Kise, you idiot!” Kasamatsu hissed to the angel under his breath. “I'm so sorry!” Sorry didn't help as Kasamatsu was slowly shoved around and pushed out of the circle of fangirls and fanboys. He couldn't get back into the group to reach Kise so, the black-haired male just went and found a bench in the hall to wait for Kise. He was pissed beyond belief, but for the sake of Kise's career, he let it be and decided to wait for a little while. That was the plan, but after watching Kise being fawn over for a half hour, Kasamatsu was done. The blond made no attempts at dispersing the crowd and he seemed happy to be with them all. That led to Kasamatsu's patience running out, making him decide to just leave. He figured he could walk home and by home, he meant his apartment with Moriyama. Kise could come and find him later, or not, the human didn't really care. So, annoyed and honestly exhausted, Kasamatsu began his trek home. He passed a few restaurants, which caused hunger to set in, and that only made him more pissed off than he was. The angel had distracted him through lunch, causing him to never reach the food he wanted to eat. “Hey, Yukio!” At the sound of his name, the human stopped walking and looked for who called him. He recognized the voice as someone he shared a lot of classes with. He finally laid eyes on the male who was across the street in a car. He was an average guy with black hair, blue eyes and was a little taller than Kasamatsu. From what Kasamatsu could remember, he was always kind and friendly when he interacted with others, which wasn't often due to how shy the male seemed to be. Kasamatsu just couldn't remember his name. “Oh hey...” “It's Damon, you remember me, right?” “Yeah of course. You're in a bunch of classes with me.” “Right! So, need a ride home?” Kasamatsu was hesitant now. He wasn't sure if it was safe or not, but he was tired, angry and hungry. Those emotions won and he willingly climbed into Damon's car. If it meant getting home faster, he would risk his life. With that, they set off towards Kasamatsu's apartment. All seemed well until another voice spoke up from behind the males in the front seat. “Hello, Yukio...” Kasamatsu's heart stopped when he heard the voice of Damien. Slowly, Kasamatsu turned to look at the redhead. He was in the backseat where he'd been hidden from view. Kasamatsu felt like an idiot to be so trusting suddenly. “What...” “You've met my twin? Well of course you have. He's been trying to kill you for a while now.” Damon chuckled as he spoke, causing chills to run through Kasamatsu. “It's you who wants me dead, isn't it...” “It is. Tell me, how'd you survive the stabbing?” Kasamatsu didn't want to say anything to the clearly insane man, but the knife pointed at him by Damien pushed him to speak. “My guardian angel healed me.” “Guardian angel?” Both twins questioned in unison, skepticism obvious within their voices. “You mean that blond who fucked up my car to get you? The same guy who interrupted me stabbing you?” Damien asked those questions with a sickening smirk on his face. He seemed overly happy over the conversation. “That's him.” “I see... Well, enough chit-chat. Do me a favor and go to sleep.” Damon spoke as Damien wrapped his hand around Kasamatsu's nose and mouth while holding a rag. Within moments of futile struggling, Kasamatsu's consciousness faded away. ~ When Kasamatsu woke up he was tied to a chair. Well, actually he was chained to the chair with his hands hanging over the armrests. Both hands were on little stands causing them to be flat against the cool surfaces. Surrounding him was a mostly empty room that looked like it was originally a motel room. Now it was all covered in plastic, along with the table it took Kasamatsu a few moments to notice across from him shrouded in darkness. On the table sat one thing, a heavy looking mallet. “Great... I'm going to die here.” Kasamatsu grumbled to himself as he shook his head in disbelief. He was now hungry, tired and furious to the point of just being done with the situation. “Don't worry. It's better to let you live because it's going to be more rewarding to see you suffering. I've decided to just ruin your life instead of killing you.” It was Damon speaking but Kasamatsu couldn't see him. “What do you mean by that?” “You love playing the guitar, right? Well, I'm going to take that away from you.” “Why? Can't I just drop out? You don't need to do that.” Kasamatsu was now panicked. He didn't want to be, but he truly didn't want to stop playing. “Nope, this is more fun... however, if you let your angel heal you, we'll kill Moriyama and anyone else you care about, like that hot angel of yours, got it?” Damon moved into view and headed towards the little table. He was wearing gloves, an apron, and eye protective gear. “Damon, why are you-” “You are better than me. In every way. I don't like that.” “Are you serious?! For such a shitty reason?!” Instead of responding with words, Damon picked up the mallet and approached Kasamatsu. He had a wide smile on his face, which caused Kasamatsu to have a terrible idea of what was about to happen to him. “Stop talking and start screaming!” Damon swung the mallet directly onto Kasamatsu's left hand. Cracks and pops could be heard as Kasamatsu's hand shattered. Not only those sounds but screams of pain from Kasamatsu, along with Damon laughing. Kasamatsu felt pain like nothing he'd felt before. Being stabbed was one thing, but his hand being broken was another. So, screaming was all he could do, not that it'd make him feel any better. It's just all his mind could process and react with at the moment. “Wasn't that great?! Let's do it again!” With another swing, went another hand shattering, which brought more screaming. Blood had already sprayed all over as the bones were crushed, and this one did the same. Watching and hearing what he caused made Damon laugh even harder, not that Kasamatsu could hear that over his screams. The pain was so great that eventually Kasamatsu's screams cut out and turned silent after a few minutes. Tears fell from his eyes and he couldn't form any coherent thoughts. He wasn't sure how much time passed before another voice could be heard. “Such a shame. He was so pretty. Now he's just a mess of bloody trash.” It was Damien speaking now. He approached his brother with a towel for all the blood that was on him. “Let's go drop him off at home like we said we would.” “Sure, but wrap him in something. I don't want blood in my car again.” The black-haired twin disappeared from sight as his brother began to speak to Kasamatsu. “You're lucky my brother wants you alive. I wanted to have fun with you and then kill you that night. You know, it truly is a shame like I said. You were so beautiful and I heard your playing was even more so.” Damien then decided to grab Kasamatsu's face, pulling him close and then pressed their lips together. It was a disgusting wet kiss that only lasted a few moments, but even to the still sobbing black-haired male, it was a few moments too long. “So beautiful...” With the kiss done, he shoved Kasamatsu back into his seat and went to collect a bed sheet to wrap the black-haired male in before his brother returned. Within minutes, Kasamatsu was wrapped up like a burrito and shoved into Damon's car. By now, he was all numb and frozen. He wanted to throw up, but he also wanted to scream more. He was torn between the two feelings, so he just laid there as he cradled his hands to his chest. His hands were ruined and broken to the point that he couldn't even look at them without wanting to cry more. Kasamatsu was surprised he didn't pass out due to the pain. He was also surprised by how crazy these twins were. He'd begun to wish he listened to his parents and went to medical school. If he had done so, he wouldn't be suffering so much right now and in return, he wouldn't be so weak right now. He hated everything that had been happening to him lately. Even though he was still fully awake, sleep began to take over. The effects were finally taking over as darkness consumed him once again. As he passed out, he felt terrified. He had no clue if that'd be the last time he would ever be awake. So with that, Kasamatsu fell into the black, full of fear. ~ Thankfully, Kasamatsu's fears were wrong. Hours later, he awoke to intensely bright lights all around him. At first, he thought he was dead and in heaven, but when Moriyama's face appeared over him, he knew he was still alive. “Yukio!” Moriyama's voice was full of relief that his friend had woken up again. “Am I... in a hospital?” Kasamatsu rasped out, coughing as he did so. “Yeah, you are, of course, you would be! I found you in front of our door. I thought you were dead with all the blood surrounding you!” Moriyama then explained how he'd come back home with a girl only to find Kasamatsu laying there. The girl was scared off but Moriyama didn't care. He instantly called for medical attention which led them to where they were now. “Thank you, Yoshitaka.” “What happened to you? Both your hands were clearly...” He trailed off, knowing he didn't need to tell Kasamatsu what had happened to his hands, due to him already knowing. “I know what state they are in... but it's just best if I don't tell you why.” Kasamatsu didn't want to explain at all. It would put Moriyama in danger and that's the last thing he wanted to do to his best friend. On top of that, he wasn't really ready to talk about it. “Can you call someone?” “If it's Kise, there's no need. He called me and is on his way. He sounded really frantic.” “I see...” Kasamatsu didn't know how he felt about that. He felt a bit of resentment towards the angel. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to see the blond male, but of course, fate wouldn't let him stay in those thoughts as footsteps could be heard racing towards them. “Kasamatsu!” It was Kise's voice as he burst into the room. He looked worried and instantly made his way to the male's side. He was sweating which made it clear he'd run all the way to his room. “What happened?” He looked at both of Kasamatsu's hands in horror. “I'll go grab something to eat...” Moriyama wanted to give them some time alone. He was under the assumption that Kise and Kasamatsu had something romantic going on. “We're alone now, tell me wh-” “No, it's not your business.” “What? At least let me heal you!” Kise began to approach the human, but the human instantly shook his head. “Stay away from me!” Kasamatsu's order caused Kise to step away from him. It was clear that Kise couldn't go against his human. He was confused though, he didn't know why the human didn't want to be healed by him. It also hurt him slightly, not that it was important at that moment in time. “I'm so sorry. I should have been with you. If I had been there, you wouldn't have been hurt.” “It would have happened anyway.” “It's my fault though... I failed as a guardian...” Kasamatsu didn't respond to Kise's words. He couldn't. Kasamatsu knew that it'd be better if Kise didn't know the truth and if he just backed off for a little while. Even though he was an angel, Kasamatsu worried what the twins would do to Kise. “Just go, Kise. I want to be alone for a while.” Kise looked broken at that, making the human speak up again. “I don't mean forever, just...give me some time.” “...Alright, well, I'll always be close by. Nothing will happen to you again. I swear.” With that, Kise left the room. Watching him leave caused a pain in Kasamatsu's chest. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that he didn't like it. It was something like a longing feeling, almost like he wanted the angel to return to his side. Even so, it was the best if Kise didn't return. Kasamatsu refused to allow harm to come to those he cared about, especially Kise. “Wait... I care about him?” Kasamatsu was shocked at his revelation. He finally found out what the reason was to him being drawn to Kise, despite not knowing him for too long. Though he realized that, he had to push it away for now. He couldn't let the twins find out about the strange attraction he felt for his guardian. “Hey, Yukio... Oh, is everything alright?” Moriyama had returned without any food and could immediately see his friend was conflicted. “Yeah... Just thinking about what comes next.” “Any ideas?” Kasamatsu sighed and looked out the window to his right before responding, “...I have to change my major...”

#Kasamatsu Yukio #kasamatsu #kikasa #kasaki #kuroko no basket #Kuroko's Basketball

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