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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

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Midnight City AU

this is an au where the main characters are all young adults!! (or millennials ig? they’re in their 20s basically) i gave a rundown of what’s what on a diff post,, i’m also splitting it up into diff chapters,, so this is gonna take a looooong time to finish. i’m posting this before i nitpick my writing to the max

it’s basically a lot of references to that point in time, artists, pop culture etc. all the chapters are named after songs from that era (including the name of this au bc i love midnight city and what better way to describe LS ‼️), and the lyrics r usually connected to what the chapter’s about, or about a character dynamic :D i hope this isn’t too cheesy, or sounds off ig. any typos in this were probably over looked bc i constantly reread my writing and rearrange stuff and make sure it sounds good 🥳 hope y’all enjoy !!! i’m also including a tag to find the chapters under :)

//Chapter 1: Crimewave

Trevor would never, ever admit it, but he had fallen into the category known as “post-hipster”. This was a strange era that began culminating, taking LS by storm. Whether he liked it or not, he could never avoid it. Even if he swore up and down he wasn’t like them, it was practically a paradox. Saying he wasn’t like them just made him a branched off version of the thing he denounced. Each aesthetic that was churned out as the 2010s rolled in were tied to a style, a sound, and Trevor couldn’t care less. It’s not like people liked what he liked. He didn’t belong to anything in particular, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t like them. If anything, he just became another obscure genre in the mix.

One of his favorite music groups was a Canadian duo called Crystal Castles. He enjoyed a good number of their songs, developing an interest for electropunk and pop punk. There was something unique about the sound, and it made Trevor feel special, like he discovered some sort of hidden treasure. He was into pop punk groups like Paramore too, but it was something about them that was just different. People knew Paramore. He often lingered around Sterling Lake, where other post-irony hipsters and classic hipsters resided, careful not to fully associate with them. After all, he apparently despised them, even though he participated in their strange… “culture”. If you could even call it that. From time to time he would find himself discussing his favorite artists with whatever semi-normal person was there, making a couple friends himself who weren’t the snooty kind he’d grown used to.

They all loved talking about how exceptional their taste in music was, a wide variety of people hanging around with their own cliques. Some liked Fall Out Boy, while others liked Blink-182, and then there were the weirdos who liked groups like Radiohead. Most of those guys were whiny, proclaiming how misunderstood they were. He knew maybe one Radiohead song at most (he definitely, definitely never cried to “Creep” and even if he did, so what) but never found himself willingly getting into their music. Then you had the nosedivr crowd, which consisted of mostly girls, and the occasional hipster guy that defected. Their taste was.. alright. Consisted of artists like Lana Del Ray and Marina and the Diamonds, who were their idols. He found almost everyone there besides the few friends he made kind of edgy, and not in the cool way. But he figured all hipsters and guys like them were kind of uncool. Don’t even get him started on those other indie rock types. God. He still came back as often as he could though, establishing some kind of routine. Most people there avoided him anyway, which he preferred. He had enough troubles with them in the past. There was one day he grew tired of the people gawking at him, and he launched a hipster right into the lake. So yeah, nobody within their right mind so much as looked in his direction. That was just how he rolled.

Today, he sat on a nearby bench in Sterling Lake’s park, watching some ducks float on water. His usual friends had been there too, seeing his clowncore buddy Wade with his cousin Floyd. Wade was extremely different than the pretentious fucks around them. He had a shit ton of piercings, and ICP was his favorite music group. Floyd on the other hand, fit right in. Almost too much, like it was something he was forced to do. But he did genuinely enjoy Weezer, of all things you could enjoy. Wade started waving at Trevor, while Floyd hid behind him. All he did was awkwardly wave back, turning his attention back to the lake. He liked Wade, but the clown stuff he wore sometimes spooked him. He didn’t pay much mind to his relative. Looking back across the water, he saw someone new, observing the area. Some dude a little above the average height, hands in his pockets walking around. He seemed a bit lost, and Trevor figured he should help if he was. After all, what was this guy doing here? New people didn’t show up often.

“Hey bud, you lost or something?”

“Oh uh, nah not really. I’m just looking for this girl I met a while ago, said she hangs out around here?”

“What she look like? I’m here pretty often.”

“Uhh kinda short, dark brownish hair? Wears fishnet stockings, high waisted shorts or whatever those grunge people are into.”

“Let me guess, she into the Neighborhood?”

“How’d you know?”

“Yeah, that’s Amanda, she’s a bit of a regular. Not too fond of me I must say.”

“How come?”

“She’s just petty towards me.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t feel like relaying his encounters with her if the guy was dating her or something.

“Oh… well d’ya think you could help me find her? I don’t really know anybody else here. I could actually use the help, since you know her.”

“Eh sure, why not.”

It’s not like he had anything better to do. The two began to walk around the park, gravel and dirt crunching beneath their feet.

“So.. what’s this place about?” The strange guy asked.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just one of those places the hipster folks meet up I guess. Don’t understand it much myself, nor do I really like them.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Dunno. It’s relatively peaceful, those freaks keep to themselves.”

The man, who was only a smidge shorter than Trevor, glared up at him.

“Hey man, don’t call my girl a freak.”

“Ehh I don’t really count her in with the generic skinny jean wearing hipsters. More of a.. what is it called.. nosedivr type. Whatever that stupid website’s called. Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“Huh.. Never really thought to ask her.”

As he thought about the stuff Amanda wore, he took note of how the man next to him was dressed. He sported an olive jacket with a black turtle neck, and a plain pair of jeans. He wore beat up black converse to top it off, and a pair of Rimmers sunglasses sat upon his head. He looked simple, yet distinguished with the way he presented himself, hair neatly combed back. He figured the two would look nice standing next to one another. They would’ve made an attractive couple, if they weren’t dating already, the kind that turns heads. Trevor wasn’t like them. He wore a black beanie over his mullet, and his favorite pair of red Dix sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The rest of his fit looked disheveled. He had thrown on a wrinkled top, solid black with little surf boards and cars along the bottom- he was a sucker for Hawaiian shirts. His pants were tan colored but had some bleach stains, with old combat boots on his feet.

“Yeah, we may not like each other but I don’t really consider her a freak like those guys.”

He jutted a thumb in the direction of a circle of guys huddled around a phone. The man holding the phone had strawberry blonde hair and a clean outfit on. An expensive looking outfit.

“Who are they?”

“The people here I absolutely cannot fucking stand. The genuine hipsters.”

“Oh.. and you’re..?”

“I’m my own kind. I’m not like these losers, all uppity and shit.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

They walked around a bit more before finding the group Amanda was with. She sat on a bench, chatting with a few girls who dressed similarly to her. All of them had black incorporated into their style. She herself had a black jumper on, tucked neatly into the front of her jean shorts. Just like the guy described, she had fishnets on under them, skater shoes to match. Loose braids fell on her shoulders, and a small black choker was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, there he is now! Babe! Over here!”

She narrowed her eyes upon seeing Trevor standing next to him.

“Hello, Trevor.” She huffed.

“Relax, I was helping your boyfriend or whatever look for you.”

Her face softened slightly, but still kept a small glare in his direction. She pressed her lips together tight before replying.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Yup.”

The man turned to face Trevor, sticking out a hand.

“Hey, thanks for showing me around. Trevor, is it?”

“Don’t wear it out.”

He shook his hand, noticing how soft it was. It was in stark contrast to his own, which was rough and calloused.

“Name’s Michael. I’ll see you around most likely? Thanks again.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Amanda huffed again, nudging Michael’s shoulder.

“Let’s go hun, Bean Machine closes soon!”

“I’m comin’ I’m comin’!”

The two sauntered off, hand in hand. Trevor stood dumbly, watching them walk away. He was right. They did look good together. He wondered if he would actually see this Michael again, kicking a rock. He went back to the bench he originally sat at, putting his earbuds in, listening to some Crystal Castles again to pass the time. The beat thumped in his ears, and all he could think was how much better this shit was compared to that club music shit that played on every radio station in a 5 foot radius. He sat there, scrolling through his own secret nosedivr account, reblogging some photo of a lit cigarette. Right before a hand touched his shoulder causing him to jump.

“What the fuck- Oh. Ron.”

Ron was another friend of Trevor’s, a guy he had met outside one of the iFruit stores talking about how “they’re tapping the phones they sell in there!” and all that conspiracy nonsense. He was a paranoid guy, but Trevor kind of liked that about him. Those were the kind of freaks he liked. He was shorter than Trevor, sort of frail in stature. He wore a bright red windbreaker over a faded tourist tee that read “I went to Liberty City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”, along with khaki colored cargo shorts. It didn’t help that he wore some goofy looking bucket hat, and socks with sandals. He dressed like someone’s middle aged father.

“Trevor! Have you seen Wade around anywhere?”

“Last I checked, he was with Floyd.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Uh no, but my best bet is they went to that vinyl shop Floyd’s girlfriend works at.”

“Will ya come with me to find him?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? What do you need him for?”

“Well I- I uh- um..”

“I uh! I uh! Spit it out Ron!”

“It’s about the Merryweather Night Club.”

Merryweather was a big organization that had a wide range of private clubs all over the country, and complimentary body guards to suit. They were all expensive as fuck, and anywhere they settled jacked up the prices of everything else. A lot of neighborhoods became gentrified as a result, and people actually considered it a good thing. What a fucking joke. Trevor of course couldn’t stand it. He hated bullies, and Merryweather was no exception. He’d been wanting to dismantle the club since they settled in LS, seeing as they only amplified the fake feel of the city. Let’s just say he’s gotten into more than a few scuffles with the club. And let’s just say it ended with someone getting stabbed as a result. The guy had it coming to him anyway. Between bouncers and the clubbers, they didn’t like Trevor or his kind loitering around the joint. It didn’t stop him from plotting some sort of revenge though. Ron per usual was on board, his reason being Merryweather’s violent history that had been swept under the rug. They were rather forceful relocating people who had lived in certain neighborhoods for years, Ron being one of their victims. Wade only decided to tag along because he wanted to be included.

“Ah fuck, what’d those bastards do now?”

“They’re throwing some big party!”

“…What fucking for?”

“All I know some guy’s coming to visit, somebody they labeled important and he’s-“

“Woah woah woah wait, Ron. Who?”

“Steve Haines.” He breathed out, careful not to be overheard.

Trevor’s eyes widened, his gaze shooting over to the posse he had poked fun of before. Steve was talking to the group, all of them doing that fake laugh they always did. God, even their humor was pretentious.

“Those fucking hipsters!” He hissed.

“I abhor them, you know that-“

“I know. I know. But, that Weston guy’s gonna be there with him-“

“Weston? Devin Weston?”

If Trevor hated hipsters, then he utterly loathed rich daddy’s money boys like Devin Weston. He had only gotten that stupid fucking night club because his father paid Don Percival enough money to let Devin do whatever he pleased with the Merryweather body guards. It was an elitist club, and they only allowed the best of the best in there.

“What the fuck’s going on there?”

“Something to do with those guys he hangs out with. I think they’re doing something major, expansion maybe-”

“And him and Devin are working together or..?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear much after that, that’s why I wanted to grab you and Wade and-”

“Then let’s fucking go get him, Ron!”

The two rushed out of there, heading for the vinyl store to look for Wade. Trevor knew a shit storm was coming, and he absolutely couldn’t wait.

//the next chapter’s gonna be longer i promise lolz

#gta v #grand theft auto v #michael de santa #trevor philips #young trikey #franklin clinton #lamar davis #lester crest #amanda de santa #steve haines #midnight city au

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let-me-love-you-loki · 3 years

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In A Day or Two--Ch. 35

Chapter 35

“Shaye, come in here,” my father said, standing at the door of his study. He was in his shirtsleeves, his tie loose around his neck.

I looked up from the sofa in the formal sitting room. Since that night with Kenny, I’d taken to using the formal room just to spite my mother. Damon and I played card games on the Persian rug, milkshakes and coffees sitting next to us. We ate greasy burgers and fries over the six hundred dollar polished coffee table. My mother hated it. She fumed every time she saw us, but my father just laughed and joined us most nights when he was home.

“Sit down,” he said as he shut the door to the study. It wasn’t often that I ended up in the study. “We need to talk.”

“What about?” I queried, plopping into one of the plush leather armchairs in front of his heavy mahogany desk. “Am I in trouble?”

He grinned. The father I remembered from my childhood hadn’t been one who smiled often. He was the hard-ass absentee father who spent more time in his company office than he did at home with us. Jeremy Pitzer lived up to the pure reputation of a New York City banking mogul, right down to the delinquent son in a military boarding school.

“No, you’re not in trouble. I wanted to talk to you about your trip to Japan.” My father stripped off his tie and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. “Did you like it? Other than meeting Kenny. Obviously.”

I laughed and tucked my knees up against my chest. “Obviously,” I replied. “He made it better, of course… showed me around the city. Made me feel more at home. But yes… I liked it. I liked practically everything about it.”

“Good. Would you want to go back?”

“To visit? If I didn’t have to work… if I had the time…” I looked away, thinking of Kenny and his two toned curls. “I’d love to be able to go back.”

My father’s head cocked to the side. “Just to visit?”

I felt my brow crinkle in confusion. “I don’t think I get what you mean, Daddy.”

He let his head fall forward for a split second. “You haven’t called me that since you were little, Shaye.” A smile spread over his face. “It makes me second guess what I’m about to ask you.”

***

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. I’d accounted for the time difference between New York and Los Angeles. Or, at least, I thought I had. I did the math again and made sure I’d checked for the time for the end of their show. When Kenny didn’t answer after the third time I tried to call, I could feel worry starting to burn in my chest.

I scrolled through my phone, looking for the number I wanted. The person on the other end picked up after two rings. “Hey, Shaye,” Nick Jackson said playfully. “To what do I owe the honor?

For some reason, the sound of his voice loosened some of the anxiety. “Uh… is the show over?”

“Yeah?” he replied, curiosity in his voice. “It ended half an hour ago. I’m on the road back to Rancho now.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry! That drive’s like an hour, right?” I huffed. “Eyes on the road, Jackson.”

“Don’t worry, Shaye. I’ve got one of those Bluetooth things. Completely hands free.” I could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Totally safe. Besides, it’ll help keep me awake.”

“Matt’s not with you?”

“No.” He answered quickly. “His girlfriend came down for the show—they rode back together.”

I curled up against the headboard, a pillow in my lap. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”

“Nah, I’m just used to putting miles on my Nissan with my brother. Feels weird without him.” Nick sighed. I heard horns and the annoying click of a blinker. I knew New York traffic. I couldn’t even imagine what LA traffic was like.

“How was the show?” Moment by moment the anxiety in my chest worked free.

He laughed, and I could see his bright blue eyes and his grin. I remembered how kind he was to me. “Don’t you know that’s the worst thing to ask a professional wrestler? It was a banger. We tore the house down, Shaye. It was one of the best matches we’ve ever had.”

I found myself laughing too, asking question after question about the show and the match. Before I knew it, I looked at the clock and it was almost four in the morning. One o’clock in LA. “Nick, are you home yet?”

“I’ve been home for an hour, Shaye.”

“Oh my God, go to sleep! Go!”

Nick chuckled, even as he tried to hide a massive yawn. “I will. I just have to get off the phone with you. You know, you never told me why you called.”

Guilt slipped into me as I thought back a few hours. “Crap. I’m a horrible person, Nick. I tried calling Kenny but he didn’t answer. I actually called you to see if you were with him.”

“He left before I did. I don’t know which hotel he’s at. I offered to let him crash at my place, but he said he already paid for it.”

My heart slipped sideways just a little. Kenny wasn’t answering his phone. He wasn’t staying with Nick. Part of me wanted to be sick. And part of me couldn’t figure out why. “Thanks, Nick,” I said quietly… almost dejectedly. “Go get some sleep, okay? I’m sorry I’ve kept you up so long.”

Once again, I could see his smile in my mind. “It’s fine, Shaye. We don’t get to talk enough anyway. And I’ll get on Kenny as soon as I talk to him.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “Night, Nick.”

“Good night, Shaye.”

***

The next morning, my head throbbed as I dragged myself down the hallway to the kitchen. My father was at the coffee maker, pouring his steel cup full. He looked up at me when I came around the corner. “You look rough.”

I rolled my eyes and yanked a cup from the cabinet. “Late night. Life of a long distance relationship halfway across the world.”

“How is Kenny?” my father mixed creamer and sugar into his coffee before screwing the lid on top.

“I don’t know,” I replied as I lifted the pot and poured a straight black cup. I didn’t even bother to let it cool off before I took a drink. It was strong and bitter. Enough to wake my sleep-deprived brain. “He didn’t answer his phone. I was talking to Nick.”

My father nodded in a way that made it clear that he thought that was odd. He didn’t say much, but I could tell that he didn’t know what to think about that. He leaned against the counter and took a long drink of his coffee.

“So, did you think anything about my offer?”

I scrubbed my hand over my forehead. “It’s only been twelve hours, Daddy. Can I at least have a day or two to decide?”

“Don’t take too long. I can’t hold the position too long.”

Tag list

@mox-made-me-do-it

@imagineall-the-fandoms

@Waywardstrong

@lilred91

@lakamaa12

@maelleoute

@not-that-kinda-gurl08

@writtingrose

@unabashedwrestlefics

@hungmanhorsecarriage

@adriii-omega

#in a day or two #kenny omega #kenny omega fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #multi-chapter #ofc #oc #japanese #travel #strangers to friends to lovers #japan #romance #kenny omega x shaye walker #kenny x shaye

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psg-est-magique · 3 years

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Tumblr tag game

Thanks so much to my loves @kingkyks and @too-multifandom-to-function for tagging me! I love these ask games so much! I love you both so much! 🥺☺️

1. Why did you choose your url ?

I chose this url when Ney first signed for PSG. It was such a special time and I will never forget how warmly he was welcomed to this team. In the press conference on the day he was presented as a PSG player, Ney said “Paris est magique” // Paris is magic. He then proceeded to laugh and run off. So that’s how I got my url! It was just such a precious moment, maybe I will look up the video and try to post it.

2. Any side blogs ?

Nope! ❤️

3. How long have you been on tumblr ?

I have been on tumblr since 2014 because during the 2014 Brasil World Cup, I absolutely fell in love with Neymar and football so I made a tumblr to join the football fandom. I had a old blog when Ney played for Barça and then in 2017 I made this one. But in 2017 I left tumblr for a while. Finally, in 2020 when my heart was crushed by PSG losing the ucl final I came back to this blog so that I could have company in my misery. And the rest is history baby.

4. Do you have a queue tag ?

Nope! ❤️

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place ?

I wanted to start fresh with a new Neymar Jr/PSG/Brasil NT blog because although I met amazing and sweet Barcelona fans, their fandom became a bit toxic for me especially when Ney left in 2017. It made me sad the way they would speak about him which is a big reason why I left tumblr for a bit around that time.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp ?

Okay so I remember this photo perfectly! It was in summer 2020 when the players came back to France to play matches after the first quarantine and I was so excited!!! I just love this photo so much, I love it when Ney smiles so big and bright like this and his eyes get all scrunched up. I just love to see him smile, and I love it when he’s happy and healthy, I thank God for his smile, health, and happiness. Ney is just so precious!

Although I love this picture so much, I think I want to change it soon but I’m hesitant to because icons are like identifiers. Honestly I don’t think I’m going to change it for a while though.

7. Why did you choose your header ?

I chose this one because it is just absolutely gorgeous, have you seen it?! I love it and I’ve always dreamed of going to Paris. It is also a photo from our win against Dortmund in 2020 when we qualified to the quarter finals. This win and this day is one of my favorite memories as a PSG fan, it was such a special time.

8. What’s your post with the most notes ?

I am not sure at all honestly, I think it might be the post about Leo Paredes and Ney sharing a blanket and watching a PSG match together at Ney’s house. It was such an adorable moment, this team is really such a family and I love them all so much!! 🥰🥰☺️❤️

9. How many mutuals do you have ?

Hmmmmm I’m not sure, I would say about 5! But I love my entire little PSG family. You all have my heart.

10. How many followers do you have ?

93! Almost 100! But it’s not about followers, tumblr is just a really nice safe place to express myself about the what I truly love. And I have met some of the most amazing people on here! Like my best friend @too-multifandom-to-function ❤️❤️

11. How many people do you follow ?

I follow 79 blogs and before I follow someone I always make sure they are at the very least neutral about PSG and Neymar and don’t say nasty things about them because that honestly makes me really sad.

12. Have you ever made a shit post ?

Um I do not think so, I usually just rant about football related things that make me upset in some way. I guess that sort of counts as shit posting. 😅

13. How often do you use tumblr a day ?

I don’t know the exact amount of time but I like scrolling through tumblr a few times a day to check the out what’s going on in the football world. I also love coming on here to talk to @kingkyks !❤️❤️

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog ?

I have had a few disagreements as I am very defensive of the people and things I love. So when people just unjustly attack Neymar or PSG or any of our players I usually get upset. Most times I let it go because I don’t like to be mean and I think energy is better spent by sending love to our players. But sometimes I’m like nah baby it’s on and I have to say something and defend my boys.

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts ?

I really dislike those posts, I feel like people are already so anxious, so why make it worse by getting into their heads. Plus it’s just annoying.

16. Do you like tag games ?

Yes I love tag games, I think they are so fun. Also I love it when think of me and tag me!!

17. Do you like ask games ?

I love ask games too, I like to send people asks for ask games. Sadly I don’t really get many asks when I do those things but it’s okay, it’s all in good fun!

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous ?

@holdmyhopeinyourhands @kingkyks @amelmajrii

I just love these three so much, I always checked their blogs even when I was off tumblr. They are my tumblr famous celebrities and I love them! ❤️

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual ?

I have a crush on all of my mutuals I love every single last one of them! Mwah! 😘

20. Tags

@tmnteshk @amelmajrii @sevyntwentyfour @msn-forever @holdmyhopeinyourhands and anyone else who wants to do this!

Love you guys all so much!! ❤️❤️

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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years

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The puppet of the sad eyes

Hi! I haven’t posted a one short in a really long time, have I? Jaskdbsj well, um... I had promised this fic to my mom @healing-winston-pratt a while ago, and since yesterday everyone was talking about Winston, I said to myself “this is a good moment to post the fic, Obsi”. So... here I am:’)

Gosh, I feel akward. I swear I am not like this xjhksfdhds (who am I kiding, I’m just as akward as I seem) (reference not intended) It’s just that... like, there are another characters in the Renegades trilogy that hit me too close home, but Winston just hits me in a place that no other character has done before, and I wanted to write a little bit about him. I mean... not gonna lie, it’s a sad fic. But it has a happy ending! Angst-Fluff as they say in my village (?

Two quick notes: First, trigger warning for mentions of sexual abuse. It’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned, but anyways, I want to warn that if anyone feels uncortable reading it, don’t worry, keep scrolling. Second, I tried to tag everyone who reblogged the post made by @chikuyi-hiro (fuck, I can’t tag them), the one where we all claimed to be part of the Winston Pratt defense squad (? I’m sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged sjkdfhskjddsj Also, um... tell me if you would like to be tagged in future works of mine. If everything works out, I will be posting two one-shorts this week (one halloween themed and the other will be my contribution to Osby October) so... if you want to see them or other fics like that, I can tag you:’)

Well, Obsi, let them start reading, for fuck’s sake.

*le da el dibujito que hizo en el kinder* Hope you like it mom:’)

A03 link

Tag list: @nodrianbcyes @dawniebb @alecjamesartino @everyone-has-a-nightmare @plain-jane-mclain @honey-harper-official @itsalittlebitchilly @novas-egg-beater @sanktaleksander and all the “Winston Pratt Defense Squad” (?

From the first day she appeared in his life, Winston realized that Nova gave him the creeps. He first thought it was because she was Ace Anarchy's niece, but no.

What gave him the creeps was that Nova didn’t sleep.

Leroy had told him not to comment on it. Winston didn't know if it was because he thought he was going to hurt the girl's feelings or if it was because he didn't want Ace to listen to him and take it as a personal insult. Winston didn't care either way, because it wasn't like he was going to shout it from the rooftops.

It was just an observation.

Nova gave him the creeps.

Maybe it was because sleeping was the best part of the day for him. He could disappear for a few hours into a deep, dark void. Get rid of any emotion he was feeling. No one was going to be able to hurt him, and if they did, he would never know.

Because when Winston slept, it was as if he didn't exist. It wasn’t like he could do it very often anyway.

Not only because now they had to live in a filthy, smelly tunnel. It was also because Winston hadn’t slept well for a long time.

He was lying on a piss-smelling mat Leroy had found in the trash. “If you don't want it, you're more than welcome to sleep on the floor,” he told him when Winston dared to mention that thing reeked.

Winston didn't want to sleep on the floor. If Honey could sleep on pissed mats, so could he.

His back itched.

The mat not only had piss on it, but apparently, it also had fleas. How nice.

He began to scratch his back, feeling like a freaking orangutan. Hettie looked at him critically, dozing from the little wooden bed he had so lovingly made for him.

“What are you looking at, bitch?” he asked.

Hettie crossed his arms and shook his head. In the cathedral, we wouldn’t be like this.

He kept scratching himself. “Sorry to call you bitch,” he mumbled. “You put me in a bad mood.”

I don't like you looking at me. I don't like you to analyze my every move. I don't like you watching me when I'm changing. I do not like you.

Then someone opened the door without knocking. Winston was about to shout “INGRID, GET OUT OF MY TENT” when he realized it was not Ingrid.

It was Nova.

Winston froze with his hand on his back. “Um... can I help you?”

It might be the first time he'd spoken to her directly, after that awkward moment during her second day at the cathedral, when Winston had tried to make conversation with her, and Ace had told him to stay away from Nova.

“I don't want you to do the same to her,” he had told him sternly.

Winston clenched his fists and clasped them against his chest.

It would never have occurred to him to use his powers on her.

But it seemed that Nova had taken to heart not speaking to Winston because indeed she did not speak to him the entire time they were in the cathedral. Before the Day of Triumph.

(What a stupid name for a day by the way.)

“Can I borrow a toy?” she asked in a small voice.

A toy. Nova wanted a toy.

“Ah. Yes, yes, yes…” Winston said, pulling the covers off (which also smelled like piss). “I… I have a lot of toys. Look.”

And he went to the second tent. Winston had to cower slightly to be able to move around there. Honey was always nagging him for his bad posture and he always told her it was the tent’s fault.

The last time that had happened, they were eating frozen pizza in a corner they had assigned for those kinds of times when they sat down together to gobble up leftovers.

“You can't blame inanimate objects for the rest of your life,” Honey exclaimed, losing her temper (for the eighth time that day).

At that moment, Winston felt his blood run cold. For the first time in his entire stay with the Anarchists, he wondered if they knew.

Do you see the marks of his hands on my body? Do you see me tremble at the slightest touch?

Do you see me behind the makeup?

The fear left as fast as it came. Ingrid threw a napkin at him and asked him (very unkindly) to pass her another slice, and Leroy pointed out to Honey that all objects were inanimate.

No one had noticed.

What a relief.

Watch me try it, Honey. Watch me try.

In that other tent, Winston had a pink toy kitchen. He had found it a couple of weeks ago in a garbage dump, and he had brought it to the tunnels by himself, despite complaints from his fellow anarchists. He was left speechless when he realized it was full of toy food and even a couple of blue plates and blue teacups. He spent the entire afternoon organizing his new kitchen, and he was not put off by Ingrid's constant teasing.

He had loved it. And he was sure Nova was going to love it too.

“Look,” he said, “I have everything here—” he lifted a light orange basket “—This is the little basket where I put the fruits, and this—” he pointed to a green basket “—it is the one with the vegetables. I even have a mini pumpkin, it's very cute.” He opened a compartment below the sink. “Here are the non-perishable items. Do you know what non-perishable means? It's... Look, I have a can of sardines. It's fake, of course. Do not try to open it, it’d break. Oh, also in the oven—” he opened the oven door “—I have some cookies, an apple pie, some croissants… it’s that how is pronounced? Croissants . I don’t know, do you know? Is Artino a French or Italian surname?” Nova didn't reply. Had he offended her? Shit . “Nova?”

He turned and realized that Nova hadn't followed him. He hurried back to the first tent and found Nova very comfortable sitting on the floor, playing with Hettie.

The puppet looked at her with demonic eyes.

No. Not her.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Winston yelled. “He's mine!” With one hand he snatched Hettie from her and with the other he squeezed the toy croissant. Nova was startled. “Don't touch him again! DO NOT PUT YOUR LITTLE HANDS ON HIM AGAIN, NOVA, OR I DO NOT RESPOND! DID YOU HEAR ME?!”

Nova started pouting, and with that, Winston snapped back to reality.

He looked at Hettie, lazily dangling in his right hand, looking up at him with a smile. His little eyes weren't demonic.

They were sad. Like Nova’s were at that moment.

He was saying , “Why don't you let me play with other kids, Winston? You never play with me anymore.”

I never played with you. Not since he did.

“Sorry...” he mumbled to Nova while putting the croissant in his pocket. “Damn, I'm sorry. Don't tell your uncle I yelled at you, please.”

Nova frowned a little. She looked more embarrassed than upset. “I just wanted to see it. He’s nice.”

Do you think so?

“Yes, but ... he was asleep,” he excused himself, putting Hettie back on his bed. “He doesn't like it when people wake him up. But I see that for you that is not a problem, huh?”

Nova lowered her head. “Sorry…”

“Nah. Do not worry. We are fine. Are we fine?”

Nova nodded quickly. The good thing was she wasn't going to tell her uncle. Ace would kill him if he found out.

It wasn't like Winston cared much if he died or not though. It was just that he didn't want Ace to kill him. It would be a bit embarrassing considering his current condition.

“Would you like to see a puppet show?” Winston asked her.

“Puppets?” She turned to see the wooden bed. “Puppets like him?”

“His name is Hettie.”

“Hettie,” Nova repeated.

Winston found it adorable.

“No, other types of puppets,” he replied. “Puppets I make with this—” he waved his hands in front of her face “—with my little hands.”

Nova wrinkled her nose and gently pushed his hands away, letting out a loud, joyous laugh.

It was the first time she seemed happy since the first day he saw her. How nice it was to hear a child laugh.

Children generally yelled when they were near him.

“I do,” Nova replied enthusiastically. “How will you do it?”

Winston settled down beside her. “Okay, we'll need a flashlight first… do you have a flashlight?”

Nova thought for a few moments. “Yes!”

"Well, go for it!" he exclaimed pointing into the distance as if he were a pirate. "Run, Novie, run!"

And Nova laughed again.

Her laughter echoed through the tunnels and in Winston's head.

He stared at Hettie, listening to Nova's feet pacing through the tunnel in search of the flashlight she mentioned. At one point, Leroy's voice interrupted the sound of her footsteps and asked her what she was doing (in a slightly gentler tone than he used to address the rest of the world) ( very slightly gentler tone). Nova replied that Winston was going to do a puppet show for her.

“How?” Leroy asked.

Winston rolled his eyes. How else, Leroy?

“With my little hands,” Winston whispered to himself.

And Nova responded as if she had heard him.

“With his little hands!”

It was such a large flashlight that Nova had to carry it with both hands. Winston moved quickly to take it, but she drew back as if assuring him that she could carry it by herself.

These modern women.

Nova pressed the power button. It did not turn on. She hit the lantern a few times until finally, a yellowish light illuminated the tent like a torch. Winston blinked many times to get used to the sudden change of light.

“You’d be a great engineer,” he stammered. Nova looked at him as if she didn't understand. “Forget it. Aim it over… there,” and pointed to the area of the tent that had a wall behind it.

She obeyed. Winston crawled closer to the stage and wiped the sweat and dirt from his hands on the patched pants he wore.

That sounded so stupid. Stage. It wasn’t like he was going to act or something.

He shot Nova a look. She was expectant.

And smiling. Truly smiling.

That made Winston smile too.

He made the first shadow. “What animal is this?” he asked.

“A moose!”

Another giggle.

Another shadow. “And this one?”

“An elephant!”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen! And that was a difficult one!”

More giggles. More shadows. “For two hundred dollars more, Novie Artino, what is this animal?”

“It is easy!” she assured. “A goat!”

“Geez! You’re wrong!” Winston exclaimed. “It is not a goat! It's... Cyanide! Because he’s old and stubborn!”

He thought Nova wouldn't laugh. Cyanide was her favorite anarchist, and he knew it. However, that was the shadow that made her laugh the most. And the truth was Winston laughed even more.

“And wait, there’s more!” Winston went on. “Guess this one!”

Nova had a hand on her chin. “It's... it's a spider!”

“No! It's Phobia!”

“Because he’s ugly!” Nova laughed.

“He’s ugly indeed!” What other shadow? What other shadow? “And what about this one?”

“A duck!”

“What duck!” Winston laughed. “It's a swan!”

“It's Honey!” she screeched, pointing at the shadow with her finger.

“The one and only, Novie, the one and only!”

One more. A dog.

Nova immediately knew the answer. “Ingrid!”

“YES! BECAUSE SHE’S A TOTAL BITCH!”

At this point, both were laughing so hard they were almost out of breath.

If Leroy or any of the others had listened (which they surely had), Winston wouldn't mind at all if they got mad at him and ignored him for the rest of the week. They could pretend he didn't exist for the rest of his life and he wouldn't care. Seeing Nova happy made it all worth it.

Winston was happy too.

Nova wiped a small tear from her eye and looked at Hettie fondly. “Do you know what my mom did when I went to sleep?” she asked.

“What did she do?”

“She read me stories,” Nova replied. “She said that pretty stories would scare the nightmares away.”

Winston nodded. Probably someone had read stories to him when he was little, he just didn’t remember.

“Could you tell Hettie a story?” Nova begged. “Shadow puppets and everything. That way, he would have pretty dreams.”

Hettie? Dreams? Hettie couldn’t dream. And neither did Winston.

But he didn't want to ruin the mood.

“Of course.” He wiped the sweat on his pants. Again. “Let's see… Pay attention, Hettie. Your prettiest dream is about to start.”

He cleared his throat.

Pay attention, Hettie. Your worst nightmare is about to start.

“Once upon a time there was a rabbit,” Winston said, “that lived in the Land of Rabbits.” A rabbit shadow emerged from the corner of the stage. “The Land of Rabbits was… not a good place to live. There were eagles in the sky—” the eagle replaced the rabbit for a second “—that watched the rabbits, waiting for the first chance they got to eat them. So the rabbits had to hide in their tunnels.”

Nova stifled a comical gasp of astonishment.

“But there was this rabbit—”

“What was the rabbit’s name?”

Winston couldn't come up with a better name. “Hettie.”

Nova nodded in approval. “Did you hear, Hettie?” she asked the puppet. “You and the rabbit have the same name.”

You. You. It’s always you.

Everything always ends up being about you.

Fucking Hettie.

“Yeah, so Hettie was there. Being a rabbit.” Hettie Rabbit jumped happily throughout the light.

“He lived with Mama Rabbit and Papa Rabbit. They were the Rabbit family.”

“You say ‘rabbit’ a lot.”

Winston laughed, a little more tense than before.

Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit.

Hettie.

Fucking Hettie.

“But one day, Mama Rabbit and Papa Rabbit had to leave Hettie alone,” Winston continued. “And they left him with their friend…”

Hettie Rabbit became a hungry, violent, and heavy-breathing creature.

It became him .

“Their friend the wolf.”

Him. The wolf. The wolf. Him.

Hettie.

Winston sighed. Fucking Hettie.

“So… so…”

So. So. So. So what happened?

Nova turned her head slightly. She had the same question.

Winston knew the Rabbit was a fucking idiot. What else happened to rabbits that entered the wolf's mouth? No one told that rabbit to go in there. But that rabbit had no other choice. He had nowhere else to go.

Or maybe he did have another place to go. If only he had been smarter…

“Um… Hey…”

If Hettie had been smarter, he would have warned Winston that when the wolves got too close, nothing good was going to happen to the rabbits.

But Hettie was a jerk.

Hettie. Hettie. Fucking Hettie.

“Winston!”

Her voice was like a needle that broke the bubble that enveloped him for a second.

“Novie?”

“What happened to Hettie?” she asked.

The mere question made his blood boil.

More shadows. The wolf, hungry and dangerous, on top of the rabbit, terrified and defenseless.

Nova was no longer smiling.

“Well, what happens to all rabbits,” he replied. “The wolf ate him. The end.”

The flashlight gave up and went off again.

Finally.

Winston turned to Nova. He didn't expect her to be happy. Winston certainly wasn't.

But he didn't expect to see her furious either.

“What a shitty story,” she spat.

“Excuse you?”

Nova stood up abruptly. Her turquoise pants were as dirty as his. “I said it was a shitty story. It isn’t like my mom’s stories.” She crossed her arms. “Do it again.”

“I won’t. I'm not going to tell another story,” Winston replied, standing up as well. “This is how it ends.” He walked over to her and put his finger on her chest. “El fin. The end. The end of all endings.”

“No!” Nova yelled as she clenched her fists and slammed her foot against the ground. “That is not the end!”

“I don’t care! It's my end!” Winston exclaimed imitating her. “Just like Hettie is my puppet! And I won't let you play with him!”

Nova's cheeks puffed out like a balloon. “Well, I'll play with him anyway!” she yelled, yanking Hettie off his bed. “You don't play with him! He feels alone! He told me!”

Winston tried to grab Hettie, but Nova pushed him away just in time.

It was a six-year-old girl versus a nineteen-year-old teenager. He could just kick her in the face and run.

But for some reason, he didn't do that. “Idiot!” he said taking Hettie’s arm. “Puppets don't talk!”

He tried to snatch it from her a second time. Nova grabbed his leg. “They talk to me!”

“It’s not true!” Winston insisted. “Liar! Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

Nova struggled too. “Your pants are on fire! You’re the liar!”

Hettie sided with Nova. You know that this is a very serious accusation, right? Why are you making up that kind of thing? Why are you lying to us, Winston?

Winston Pratt was many things. But he was not a liar.

He would never lie about that.

Why don’t you believe me? Why do you think I’m lying? I don’t want to make you suffer. Why would I want that? Only villains want to make people suffer.

Why would I be a villain?

Why would I be a liar?

He pulled Hettie toward him so hard, he ended up bringing Nova with him. She slammed into his chest and gave a slight groan.

Winston, not quite sure what he was doing, hugged her. He hugged her as he would have liked to be hugged.

When he told his parents the truth of his nightmares, his sleepless nights, and his constant fear, instead of covering him with kisses, hugs, and words of affection, they had called him a liar. Just like he had just called Nova.

He would never lie to them. Not about that.

Winston thought she would run away. He thought that she would also be terrified of any display of physical contact.

But Nova didn't. Nova hugged him too.

And Winston… Winston burst into tears.

Hysterically.

“Why are you crying?” Nova asked, worried.

“No, it's just... it's just...” he said between sobs. “It's just that I'm so sorry I made you angry.”

“I was not angry,” Nova corrected slightly defensively. “I panicked.”

That made him let out another sob. “Did I scared you?”

Nova clung to him tighter. “Yes. Your eyes changed.”

Winston sniffed with her purple jacket. “How?”

“They were... angry,” Nova explained. “Not sad. They didn't look like Hettie's.”

Winston separated from Nova. Hettie was crushed between the two of them. Despite the fight, he had remained intact.

Seeing him was like looking in a mirror.

Winston was not the puppeteer. He was a puppet.

It was Hettie’s fault. Winston’s fault.

Nova was looking at Hettie as well. She took him in her hands and caressed the buttons of the little suit with affection. Winston put his arm around Nova and gently shook her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry,” Nova replied. “I won’t tell my uncle.”

Winston tried to laugh, but all that came out of his mouth was another sob. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Nova turned to see him. “Don’t cry. Stop it,” she ordered sternly.

He stopped crying. It was like… magic.

You have balls, Novie. You have balls.

Her expression changed from annoyed to astonished. “Your makeup isn’t ruined.”

Winston stroked his cheek thoughtfully. “It’s… it’s not makeup.”

Nova reached out her hand and caressed it as well. “It's your face,” she whispered.

“It's my face,” he repeated.

She sat on his outstretched leg, looked away from him, and didn't let go of Hettie.

“Did the wolf really eat the rabbit?” she asked.

You and your damn rabbit.

“Really, really,” he replied.

Nova frowned sadly. “Poor little thing…”

“Poor little thing?” Winston snorted. “He deserved it.”

“Why?” Nova asked, very confused.

Why not? Why wouldn't he deserve it?

“Because… he shouldn’t be hanging out with wolves.”

And Nova turned to see him as if he had said the greatest nonsense in the world. She crossed her arms again, and very confident of herself, she said, “But the wolf shouldn’t be eating rabbits in the first place.”

Winston raised his eyebrows.

She was not an idiot.

But that was not how the world worked.

Nova returned her attention to Hettie.

Seeing her there, sitting on top of him, so helpless and confident, made him realize that he couldn't let something bad happen to her.

Not like others had let it happen to him.

“Nova,” he called her. Nova raised her gaze from the puppet. “If you ... if you ever meet a wolf, you have to tell me.”

“There are no wolves in the city,” she chuckled. “But if I do, I'll tell you.”

Winston chuckled too. “No, I mean... a wolf is not just an animal,” he explained. He scratched his back. He fucking hated bugs, really. “A wolf can be anyone who makes you feel bad. Has someone ever made you feel bad?”

Nova had to stop to think about it. Winston felt his heart beat faster.

Finally, she replied, “Honey once told me that I had a terrible accent and she couldn’t understand a word I was saying.”

He sighed in relief. Winston didn't know how he would have reacted if Nova...

If the same had happened to Nova.

“Okay, that's Honey being Honey,” he assured. “I mean... if someone... you know.”

Nova wrinkled her nose. Of course, she didn't know.

It was good that she didn't know, right? Or was it bad?

“Look, for example... We hugged a while ago, right?”

“Yes.”

“And I have my arm on your shoulder—” he raised his arm slightly. “—And you touched my cheek—” he held her fingers “—and right now you're sitting on my leg.”

He moved his leg in such a way that it made Nova jump slightly. “Yes,” she replied with a laugh.

“And is that okay with you?”

Nova nodded.

“I am glad. But if someone ever touches you or puts you in a situation where you are afraid, feel bad, or do not understand... run away. And you tell me, or your uncle, or Leroy, Honey… heck, even tell Phobia or Ingrid. But tell someone.” He put his hands on her shoulders, hoping the despair didn't show in his high-pitched voice. “Don't be like the rabbit.”

Don't be like me.

“But the rabbit didn't know about the wolf.” She stroked Hettie's cheek the way she stroked Winston's a couple of minutes ago. “It wasn't Hettie's fault.”

It was useless. It didn't matter how many times Nova repeated it to him.

Winston knew it was his fault.

But he also didn't want to argue about it anymore. Now he didn't matter. Nova was the only thing that mattered.

Nova was everything.

“Nova. Please, Nova, do you swear you will tell someone if you find a wolf?”

Do you swear you will never be like me?

“My Uncle Ace says swearing is terribly wicked.”

He squeezed her shoulders lightly.

Ace could go fuck himself.

Winston wanted to be certain that she was going to be safe, that she knew what she had to know.

Nova had to know if something bad happened to her...

Winston couldn't speak for the other anarchists. He wanted to believe they would do the right thing, but people kept surprising him in the worst ways. But Winston needed Nova to confirm that she knew that if something bad happened to her, he was going to believe her with the same intensity that others had not believed him.

One thing they had in common was that neither of them was a liar.

“If you swear it to me, I'll let you play with Hettie.”

Her face lit up. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, seriously.”

Nova giggled. “I swear.”

Winston offered his fist and Nova bumped into it.

He was silent, but his mind was racing.

It didn't matter what happened in the future. Winston was going to believe Nova. Forever. Because Nova wasn't going to be like him. And he wasn't going to be like the people who hurt him, either.

“Do you want to play with Hettie?” he whispered to her.

Nova stared at Hettie for a few more seconds. She smiled at him and returned him to his bed with the delicacy that only a girl her age could have. “No. He is already asleep. Tomorrow will be another day.”

And before Winston could respond, Nova squeezed his hand in such a way that she inadvertently pushed him into the void.

Winston fell asleep.

He slept better than he had in a long time.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #fic #ao3 #winston pratt #nova artino #i dont know how else to tag this #um...#*insert funny tag*#*insert childhood trauma*#obsi's writs #the puppet of the sad eyes

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mercurryblack · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10: Hattie

The night is but young.

❃❃❃

“Are you done yet? Are you done yet?” Hattie asked, squirming as she repeated her question for what seemed like the thousandth time.

“For the thousandth time, no, I’m not done yet. Stupid three thousand word count.” Cait groaned, slouched over their desk. “I swear, the day I graduate, I’m gonna kick Professor Rook square in the junk… boring old bastard… ”

“Sorry, time’s getting away from me.” Hattie apologized. “You’re still using that trick I told you about?”

Cait shrugged. “Even if I don’t count it as I go, it still feels like I’m never gonna finish it.”

The two had been spending the entire evening in their dorm room; Cait had been working on their assignment since the moment the Armilde sisters had left, and Hattie had been trying to keep herself busy by dusting, staring outside, dusting again, and even going as far as to read a lesson they hadn’t yet covered in class.

Tossing the Modern Remnant History textbook to her side, Hattie fell back on her bed spread-eagled, disappointed at the evening so far. She regretted how she had never really fostered a social life outside of Haven Academy— or much less her team, for that matter.

She had grown up as a ward of the underground Sisterhood, mostly keeping to herself and her small collection of fairytale books back then. Having dwelled for so long down in the habitable mine tunnels that the Sisterhood called home, she had recently found herself wanting to explore the world outside more often, if only to make up for lost time.

Those extracurricular lessons with Professor Gormlaith don’t count, she mentally noted.

Hattie didn’t have many friends, either— ironically, the happy-go-lucky girl could be a lot more introverted than extroverted at times. She knew a few students in their year by name, but not enough to warrant anything closer than a “hello” in the hallways. Plus, she didn’t find it to be much fun going out without her friends, which essentially consisted of LLAC and pretty much nobody else.

Well, there is CMYK, she thought to herself, remembering the team of now-second-years that they had tutored in the previous semester. I bet ol’ Mallow or Kara would have been free at this hour… but they’re all over in Vale helping with the set-up for the Vytal Festival, lucky dogs.

And since Lillian and Amaryllis were out doing their own things, she was left cooped up with Cait, who had been taking their time in writing an essay she had already finished.

“…Don’t you have anywhere else to go, Hattie?” Cait asked, glancing over their shoulder.

Hattie turned, wilting slightly as she did. “Should I leave you alone?”

“Nah, it’s not that.” Cait replied. “I just don’t want you to feel stuck here with me, y’know? You could go if you wanted to.”

Hattie shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t really wanna. I’d prefer to wait for you rather than leave by myself.”

“Fair. Are we going somewhere after I’m done, anyways?” Cait said, turning back to their writing.

“I don’t know. I mean, Ammy said we can come down to her boyfriend’s family’s charity event, but it sounds kinda formal.” Hattie said, then shook her head. “I’m not in the mood for formal tonight.”

“So you don’t have a plan for this evening?” Cait inquired.

“I was kinda hoping you had that part sorted out,” she said with a lopsided smile. Having hung out with them the most, Hattie had always left the ideas up to Cait— they did always know where to go for a fun time. Also, she tended to worry that she’d make a big plan and it would turn out to be a flop.

Lost for any follow-up, she wondered aloud, “What do you think Detective Yuen and the old guys are up to now?”

“Probably living their nice and worry-free adult life.” Cait said sarcastically.

“Do you think we should give them a call? You know, check up on them?”

“Nah. I’m sure they’re doing fine on their own for one night.”

Hattie grabbed her Scroll from the far edge of her bed and waved at Cait, sticking out her tongue. “I’m gonna do it anyways! What if they’ve finally found the bad guys or something?”

Cait rolled their eyes. “Whatever you say…”

***

Sardion paced back and forth in Yuen’s office, his gaze fixed on the vinyl floor. The day had been yet another bust— Rudyard had hung back at Yaara’s house, while Sardion and Yuen, with little else to do, had returned to the precinct.

“I’m just saying, don’t you think we should give LLAC a call?” Yuen suggested. “They’re part of this investigation too, and we could really use some help right now. Plus, they might see something we’ve overlooked.”

“They’re having a night off, Yuen. I’m sure they have better things to do.” Sardion replied. “You don’t want to tire the young’uns out before they even graduate, right?”

“Maybe.” Yuen sighed. “Hear anything from Rudyard?”

“Not yet, but he said he’d call if he found anything to go on.”

***

Rudyard stared up to the inky heavens, taking in the starry night sky from Yaara’s old lawn chair, a half-empty bottle of beer loosely grasped in his fingertips.

In the backyard of her humble home, the Huntress had cultivated a small flower garden. In the back of his mind, Rudyard reflected on the visits he had paid her, how she had meticulously tended to them every day; thoroughly watering them, rooting out any weeds, gently humming while she kept her garden impeccable.

Now, seeing as their owner had been dead for a week, the garden had slowly begun to die as well. The bright petals and leaves of the flowers had begun to fade and wilt from a lack of water, and weeds had taken over a small patch of dandelions.

Rudyard rose to pick up a rusty old watering can on the back veranda, then filled it up with a nearby hose. As he let the water trickle down onto the garden’s parched soil, he let out a long sigh— after all she had done for him, it was the least he could do. Eventually emptying the can, he opted to go back inside, as the night air started to grow colder.

Searching for a spot where the police hadn’t tagged or taped anything of interest, he made himself comfortable in a reclining chair in her personal study. Looking around, a single book lying on her desk caught his eye, the tip of a torn sheaf of paper stuck in the pages halfway through. The title on the cover read Eternal Blue Sky, luminescent gold font on a pastel blue background.

“Of course.” Rudyard chuckled to himself. “You would have hated this, Yaara, leaving a book unfinished.” Absentmindedly, he picked up the book and opened it up to the bookmarked page.

He paused.

Written on the scrap of paper in what was unmistakably Yaara’s handwriting was a short message; 1100 apr 23 for further details - stored on hosaki comm log 1138.

“April…?” Rudyard muttered, squinting at the writing. He remembered that April 21st had been the starting date of the last mission on her and Berilo’s record, and it had been marked as remaining within city limits.

He had never heard of a place called “Hosaki” anywhere in Mistral City.

Frowning, he tucked the sheaf of paper into his pocket and rose from the chair, reaching into his pocket. “Wonder what Yuen’ll make of this.”

He paused, fingers fumbling inside an empty pocket.

“…Where’d I put my Scroll?”

***

“Do you know of any other places they might have escaped to?” Sardion asked as he took a closer look at the map of Mistral spread over Yuen’s desk, doing his best to focus despite his inner restlessness slowly clouding his mind.

“Besides the forest, nothing, and if that’s the case then they’re likely long gone by now.” Yuen said, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe the Manju-Shage District, but I doubt it. The whole thing’s cordoned off by a tripwired security fence. There’s no way someone could’ve broken in without us knowing about it.” She continued, tapping her fingers against the armrests in mild frustration.

“Well, maybe they could’ve snuck in, if they had the right Semblance for the job. At this point, I’m ready to try anything if it means we might find a lead,” Sardion paused, sharply exhaling, “Any step we take, no matter how small, is at least a bit closer to the whoever’s behind this.”

“True.” Yuen said, glancing up at him. “After all, there’ve been times that thugs occasionally get the great idea to break in and squat there, to lay low or whatever… you want to check it out, just in case?”

“Might as well. I’ve already got my weapon on me.” Sardion shrugged. “I’ll call up Rudyard first, see if he’s up for it.” He pulled out his Scroll and sent a call to Rudyard’s contact.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. A small buzzing hum came from beneath a stack of papers on the right of Yuen’s desk. The Huntsman and the detective exchanged confused looks, before realizing what was making the noise.

“Oh, for the love of…” Sardion muttered, sticking his hand underneath the stack and pulling out a Scroll— Rudyard’s own. “Perfect time to forget this, you freakin’ cueball…” He stuck his Scroll back in his jacket and tossed Rudyard’s onto Yuen’s desk.

“Okay, well, that’s a bust… like I said before, we could call up LLAC.” Yuen suggested.

Sardion was inclined to disagree with her, given that it had been the students’ night off— calling them in for duty at such an hour wouldn’t be the most gracious move. However, he figured that they’d best bring some backup, if only to cover more ground if nothing else.

“Alright, go for it.” he said.

Yuen took out her Scroll and pulled up Lillian’s contact. “Here goes. Hope for the best.”

***

“Why do I always have to be the one to make the food?” Rosario asked, swinging her now-empty basket from one hand as she walked alongside Lillian down the cliffside path.

“You’re a great cook, and I can’t even season my food correctly.” Lillian replied. “Do you remember the last time when I tried to make instant ramen unsupervised?”

“Point.” Rosario said. “You did literally set a pot of water on fire. I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty certain that violates every law of thermodynamics that there is.”

Lillian nodded. “See?”

“Riiiight.” Rosario drawled. “Imagine what adult life would be like. Every night, it’ll just be me greeting you, ‘Welcome home, mi amor! What do you want first? Dinner? A bath? Me?’ And then you’ll go, ‘I’ll have you for dinner in the bath!’”

“I know you’re trying to make fun of me, but you’re drooling, Rosario.” Lillian said, giving her girlfriend a flat stare.

Rosario flushed red, wiping the corner of her mouth. “I am not.”

Lillian snorted.

***

“Damnit, her Scroll’s turned off.” Yuen groaned. “Her sister’s offline as well.”

“Thought so. They have private lives too, you know.” Sardion shrugged, slinging his coat over his shoulders. “C’mon, might as well see if any airships are available and just get this over with.”

Yuen rose from her chair. “Fine. I’ll leave them a message if we do find anything.” Just as she was about to follow Sardion out, her Scroll suddenly vibrated in her coat.

The profile picture that displayed the caller wasn’t Lillian— rather, it was the Lazuli kid calling her.

It’s something, I guess. Yuen thought to herself, swiping to accept the call.

“…Hey, Detective Yuen.” Hattie chirped up on the other end.” How’s it going? It’s Hattie from, uh, Team LLAC. Uhm, we just wanted to check in, and—” She continued, stumbling slightly over her words.

“As a matter of fact, I’m glad you called.” Yuen replied. “Listen, Sardion and I are going to investigate a possible lead down in the old Manju-Shage District, and your help would be very much appreciated.” She hesitated before continuing. “That is, if you’re not already preoccupied.”

***

On the other end of the line, Hattie’s face lit up as she heard Yuen’s invitation. For the moment, she managed to suppress the urge to whoop and cheer out of deference to the still-working Cait. “Nononono, no problem. We’ll be there right away, Detective,” she said, struggling to contain her excitement as she ended the call.

It took her a few seconds before she was able to produce words, since all that was coming out of her mouth were muffled joyful squeaks. “…Cait?”

“Gimme a sec.” Cait replied, holding up a finger.

Hattie paused, her smile falling slightly.

“Cait.” she repeated, her tone becoming normal.

“Wait, I’m almost done.” Cait said, focused on their computer’s monitor.

“Cait!” Hattie repeated for a third time, her voice rising slightly as she grew irked by their dismissal.

“I said wait, Hattie.” Cait said, still not turning around. “…’Make sure to provide footnotes along with citations’? Aw, what the hell’s the point of that?” they muttered to themself as they reviewed their essay.

Hattie scowled darkly, thoroughly annoyed at the brush-off. After a moment, she tiptoed up next to her teammate’s shoulder and leaned in towards their ear as close as possible.

“CAAAAAAAAAAAIT!” she screamed.

“AUUUUUUUGH!” Cait screeched, jumping up from their seat in shock as they spun around to face her. Their brow contorted, startled and frustrated at the girl’s outburst.

“WHAT?!” they snapped.

Hattie’s expression morphed into a tooth-bared cheshire grin, her attempt at emulating Cait’s own habit.

“I know what we’re gonna do tonight~♪.”

#team llac #team llac fic #harriet lazuli #cait miya #team sybr #sardion sarikaya #agave yuen #rudyard millard #lillian armilde #rosario garland #fanfic #fan fiction #rwby fan fiction #rwby oc #rwbyoc #rwby

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omgrachwrites · 5 years

Text

Somewhere Across the Ocean (Tom Holland)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Original Character

Summary: Cassidy Porter has always had a hard time being herself, especially in front of her friends. She can truly be herself when she starts online talking with a sweet boy, Tom. But when he unknowingly walks into her real life it’s his heart that might be getting broken. Author!Tom, college au

Warnings: fluff, swearing, little bit of smut, Tom being an adorable cinnamon roll

Words: 2307

A/N: Sorry that this is up a little later than intended guys, I hope you enjoy this next part and please let me know what you think! Also it’s very clear by this chapter that I know nothing about American colleges and how the dorm system works so please don’t @ me lol! I love you all very much! xxx

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Part Two

Monday 23rd June 2018

Tom and Harrison had been living in New York for just under two weeks now and the best friends loved every minute of it, they had been allowed to move into the dorms already. The administration had taken into consideration the fact that they had moved out of their home country. The good thing about living in the NYU dorms before hardly anyone else was the fact that they weren’t monitored very often because there was hardly anyone living there.

Tom and Harrison used this to their advantage and stayed out late into the night, coming back to the dorms in the early hours of the morning. Between hunting for jobs the pair partied in New York like there was no tomorrow.

The horrible, ear splitting noise of the IPhone alarm suddenly blared through Tom’s bedroom, pushing Tom away from his incredibly peaceful slumber. Beth, the girl who was in bed with him groaned sleepily and kicked him lightly, it was the first time that Tom had brought home a stranger, he never slept around.

“Will you turn that thing off?” she complained, digging her head further into the pillows, Tom sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair and leaned over Beth and switched it off before throwing himself back into bed.

His head didn’t feel too bad, he was just exhausted, though not exhausted enough for the pretty girl lying next to him, her cool purple hair spread around her head like a halo. Tom smirked to himself, feeling a surge of confidence as he wrapped an arm around her stomach, pulling her closer. Beth hummed in approval as his fingers trailed down her body to rub her clit in slow lazy circles.

“Want to go for round two darlin’?” he asked, his voice husky in her ear as he nipped her earlobe gently.

“Mm, baby boy,” she moaned as Tom slid two fingers inside of her, “I can’t, I’m sorry,” she pushed his hand away and slid out of the bed, in all of her naked glory and started pulling her clothes on. Tom pouted as he leaned up and rested his chin on his hand as he watched her get dressed.

“Can I call you and we can do this again?” he asked his voice hopeful, he’d had a really good night and he would have liked to see her again.

She giggled at him, running her fingers through his hair, “oh sweetie, you really don’t get the point of a one night stand do you? Once I leave we’re never gonna see each other again.”

Tom rolled his eyes with a disappointed sigh; who ever had come up with that rule was a fucking idiot. Beth finished getting dressed, threw her hair up into a bun before leaning over the bed to press her lips against Tom’s. Tom accepted the kiss, cupping her jaw and kissing her back.

“Thanks for the great night gorgeous, I still can’t believe that I was your first one night stand,” she paused for a moment, “what was your name again?”

Tom stared back at her in disbelief, his eyes wide as he felt offended and hurt.

“Tom,” he mumbled and Beth smiled, she didn’t even have the audacity to look embarrassed at the fact that she forgot his name, even though she’d been calling it out during the night.

“Oh yes of course, well thanks Tom,” she winked and slipped out of the room without as much as a backwards glance.

He moped around his room a little before shaking himself out of it, telling himself that Beth was merely a one night stand. This was why he didn’t sleep around, he simply cared too much, and he hadn’t thought that it had been a problem up until now. He showered and got dressed, checking his messages though he didn’t feel very sociable.

From: C.Rose, 5:45am

‘Uhhh, I can’t sleep, I’m far too drunk and I hate myself. I’m in work in like 5 hours, please send help xx’

Tom chuckled softly, feeling a little bit better as he typed out his reply.

To: C.Rose, 11:15am

‘Oh, noooo! I hope you feel better soon my darling and I hope work isn’t too much of a pain for you! Xx’

Tom flicked his laptop off and made his way out of his room and into the kitchen that opened out into the living room where Harrison was eating some breakfast and scrolling through his phone. He glanced up when he heard Tom walk into the room, smirking to himself, finding it funny that Tom looked so rough.

“Looking rough mate, are you feeling okay? Want any breakfast?” Haz chuckled and Tom narrowed his eyes at him as he sank onto the couch, stealing Haz’s coffee mug and taking a sip from it, smacking his lips loudly because he knew that it annoyed Haz.

“Nah, I’m not hungry and I actually feel okay, just tired. What are you doing today?” Tom leaned his head against the shitty, uncomfortable blue couch cushions as he looked at Harrison.

“I’ve got that interview in that coffee shop today; I’m leaving in about ten minutes.”

Tom nodded, chewing on his bottom lip, “mind if I tag along? I really need to get some writing done, somewhere where there aren’t as many distractions.”

“Sure,” Harrison smiled.

The two friends left ten minutes later and they walked out into the fresh New York air – it was a lot like the weather in London – even though the city was incredibly busy it perked Tom up a little instead of stressing him out. The smell of the hot dog stands made Tom’s stomach rumble and he immediately regretted not having breakfast, just the smell of the onion and sausage meat made his mouth water.

“Let me just get a hot dog,” he said sheepishly as Harrison rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips as he shook his head at Tom as Tom ordered a hot dog with everything on it. The first bite of the greasy goodness was heaven and Tom couldn’t help but moan in appreciation. Harrison pulled a face at his best friend.

“Uh, mate. It totally feels like I’m intruding; want me to leave you and the hot dog alone for a couple of minutes?”

Tom nodded, taking another bite, “yeah, that’d be nice. Thank you,” he joked, his voice slightly muffled from the food.

The two young men walked another couple of blocks until they were outside a cute little bookshop called, ‘as the plot thickens,’ with baby blue metal tables and chairs outside. Tom noticed that Haz was peering up at the building, his skin taking on a slightly green tinge as it always did when he was nervous or sick. He was probably feeling a little bit of both right now. Tom bit his lip and clapped his best friend on the shoulder in an attempt to cheer him up.

“Do you need a couple of minutes mate?” Tom asked, after a couple of beats Harrison took a deep breath and shot a grateful smile at Tom.

“No, I’m okay. Let’s do this,” Haz muttered more to himself as he ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair before he pushed open the door and the two Brits stepped inside.

Inside, it looked like a typical bookshop, homey and welcoming with books of every genre lining the walls. The smell of books mingled with the smell of fresh cakes and coffee, it was Tom’s idea of heaven. Even if Haz didn’t get the job – though Tom was sure that he would because he firmly believed that his best friend was great at everything – Tom would probably be in the shop a lot. It looked like a great place to write, ever since he’d been a little boy it had been Tom’s greatest ambition to write some sort of epic tale.

Tom and Harrison wove deeper into the bookshop, the amount of books lessening as they got closer to the café. Instead of books there were window seats that brought some light into the somewhat dark room, wing back leather chairs were seated around numerous smaller tables and secret alcoves. An antique looking fireplace had been built into the chocolate brown wall and Tom could bet that it would be amazing to sit by it and write in the winter.

“I’m gonna go and ask the barista where to go,” Haz smiled.

Tom nodded eagerly and glanced up to look behind the counter and it felt like his brain had short circuited for a split second. The girl working behind the counter was beautiful, she had long dark hair that Tom guessed would have framed her face beautifully, it was tied up with a couple of tendrils tucked behind her ear. Almost as if she could sense Tom’s eyes on her she glanced up and smiled at him softly when her eyes found his. Tom’s cheeks lit up with a blush and he quickly turned his attention back to Harrison.

“Damn, that barista is really bloody gorgeous,” Tom chuckled nervously as Haz rolled his eyes playfully.

“Please, try and keep it in your pants buddy, I heard that girl sneaking out this morning, you little whore,” Haz teased.

“Yeah, well that was just a one-time thing,” Tom sniffed, raising his eyes to the ceiling, trying to act like it had been his decision not to see Beth again.

Harrison chuckled, shaking his head as he waked over to the counter. The pretty barista smiled at Haz as he approached the counter and she took him into a room somewhere in the back of the shop. Tom dumped his bag onto the polished table; the loud thunk that it made caused other struggling writers to glance up at the newcomer before going back to their work. When the pretty girl came out of the room where she took Haz Tom walked towards the counter, dying to speak to her, butterflies creating havoc in the pit of her stomach.

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When Cass left her manager’s office she noticed the cute guy approach the counter, he’d been with the other cute guy who had had a killer British accent so it was probably the case for this guy. That curly hair really worked for him – along with his puppy dog brown eyes but Cass tried to ignore them. Some guys looked ridiculous with fluffy, curly hair but it worked wonders for this one.

“Hi, how are you?” he smiled, that slow British accent making every syllable sound much more attractive.

“I’m pretty hungover,” she grimaced, making the pretty stranger chuckle, “but otherwise I’m okay thank you, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he grinned, “could I get a large flat white please?” Cass nodded, took his money and got to work on his order.

“I take it that you’re staying in to wait for your friend?” she smiled at the Brit as he nodded, “I’ll bring it over for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, go sit yourself down,” Cass winked, satisfied when a pink hue spread across his cheeks.

“O-okay, thank you,” he practically stumbled over his words before turning to walk back to his table.

Beside Cass her co-worker Jacob laughed out loud, “did you have to give that poor guy a heart attack?”

“It’s what I do best Jakey, thanks for having my back and getting me to serve him by the way,” Cass giggled, tracing a smiley face – instead of a leaf – in the coffee with the steamed milk.

“It’s Jacob, and you’re very welcome,” he beamed at her, Cass patted his cheek and she brought the coffee over to the British stranger.

“Thank you so much, nice touch by the way,” he chuckled, gesturing at the smiley face in the coffee, “I’m Tom by the way,” Cass smiled at him, the guy who she was talking to online was a British guy called Tom too. Though, the chances of it being this guy were very slim. Thankfully. She didn’t want to meet the online Tom in real life, he wouldn’t like her.

“I’m Cass, I love your accent by the way, where are you from?”

“Well thank you, I’m a native of South-West London darling,” he grinned at her cheekily.

She blushed lightly at the pet name that he gave her before walking back to the counter, resisting the temptation to turn back around and look at him. For the next couple of minutes Cass kept on stealing glances at Tom and vice versa, though Cass was never looking at him when he looked at her. She suspected that it was starting to annoy Jacob.

“Uh-oh,” Jacob sighed, causing Cass to look up to see one of her trust fund brat friends walk in, she was pretty notorious, “can you serve her?”

Cass smiled at him as Emily put in her order, “a regular vanilla latte please babe, the Starbucks that I usually go to recently employed my ex-boyfriend who is obsessed with me, this place really isn’t my scene,” she rolled her eyes, looking around with a distasteful look on her face, then she lowered her voice and looked at Jacob’s retreating back, “that guy is a huge nerd,”

What was this, high school? “He’s my co-worker Em.”

“You don’t actually like him right?” Emily demanded, Cass shrugged, biting her lip, an uneasy feeling in her gut. A couple of moments later Tom’s friend came out of the manager’s office beaming.

“Congratulations,” Cass smiled at him.

“Oh, thanks,” he grinned back before walking over to Tom, performing a victory air punch, like the one at the end of ‘The Breakfast Club’.

This probably meant that this wouldn’t be the last time that Cass would see Tom and she kind of felt pretty good about that.

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@void-imaginations @mutuallynotmutual @marvelellie

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