#i love nicky but i really did think it was going to be him considering he doesnt play either special team
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dewey scratched tonight.......
#sheldon giveth and sheldon taketh away#like yeah alright man lets mess with a solid line and remove a good pker when special teams have been the difference maker#i love nicky but i really did think it was going to be him considering he doesnt play either special team#and eilly would slot into his current role PLUS willy plays special teams#hmm#once again i wish hockey would let us have a couple more guys on the bench that we could just put out whenever we need them#let us have 18 players just two little bonus guys#leafs lb
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the hurt is good
part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi
billy hargrove x fem!reader
word count: 5,163
warnings: swearing, cops, talk of jail/billy's abuse, neil, fluff and love
a/n: well, here it is. this is the very last part of my very first series. i am very proud of the ending i've created for these two. i like to think i've given billy what he deserved. i'm so grateful for all of the feedback and support you've given me on the previous parts. also, a part of this relies heavily on hopper’s letter from season 3, so that’s that, and then some of his other dialogue. i’ve found that it fit billy effortlessly. i really hope you enjoy this and maybe find some solace in it. i love you all <333
before you read, listen to: time after time by cyndi lauper and/or the promise by when in rome
————
The first night without Neil, Hopper sits in his car outside the house. He promised no one would hurt them. He means it.
Nicky went to high school with both Hopper and Joyce. In fact, she was suspended for dealing them weed under the bleachers at one point. She regrets nothing to this day.
Because of that, it really wasn’t too difficult to have a heart-to-heart with the man, to get him to sit down with Billy. And Max and you. Susan.
Hopper had shown up at the house to speak with Neil. When he arrived, he told you to keep Billy in his room, though that hadn’t mattered. The second Billy realized he might actually get out of this, that he might live without fear of his own father, he buried his face in your chest, tears wetting your collarbones, your t-shirt.
You’d let him get it all out, stroking his loose and frizzy curls, occasionally laying your hands over his ears to muffle any shouting. Billy squeezed you each time you did so.
Even if he was a little hopeful this might work, Billy couldn’t help but think about that night when he was a kid. When his mama left him with Neil.
He’d sat on his bedroom floor, trying to be quiet while his dad showered, pleading with her.
“Please mom, don’t do this. Please come home.”
“How long? How long?”
“I miss you.”
She was the last person he felt safe with, before you. And she’d gone, leaving her boy with him. Trapped. Part of him wasn’t sure this would work out. He’d hoped for so long that his mother would return, and she hadn’t. Neil had dictated everything in Billy’s life so far, so how was it possible for anything to change?
Hopper had given Neil Hargrove one option.
“You’re gonna sign these papers,” he’d said, gesturing at the divorce packet lying on the table, “and I’m going to quietly take you down to the station and expose you for the piece of shit you are. Lock you up for abusing your child.”
Neil had started screaming about how Hopper had no right to do any of this, to barge into his home claiming all of this.
“Sure, yeah, pitch a fit. Like that’s gonna change anything,” Hopper said, entertained by the fact that Neil was acting like the victim.
During one of the intervals where your hands were pressed to Billy’s ears, the hoop in the left one biting into your palm, you’d caught something Hopper said.
“I suggest you shut your mouth before you give me something else to report.�� By the tone in his voice, you could imagine that he was inches from Neil’s face.
“You’re a coward,” Hopper had said. “Beating on your kid because your life didn’t turn out right. Well let me tell you something, that’s not his fault. It’s yours.”
There’d been a knock on Billy’s bedroom door followed by Hop’s gruff voice.
“Y/N, kiddo can I have a minute with you?”
Billy had looked up at you, eyes puffy. “I’ll be right back baby, I’m not leaving, I promise.”
You’d pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he’d held onto your hand until it was too far out of his reach.
Shutting the door carefully behind you, you’d looked at him. “We’re taking him away,” he said.
You blinked. “Really?”
“Really. He signed, so Susan is good to go.”
Hopper considered letting Neil run away, making him just disappear, but he didn’t want to chance him doing this to someone else. He’d already done that once though, hadn’t he?
“I’m really proud of you for helping him through this, kid. You remind me of your mom.”
His hand had been warm on your shoulder.
“If you want me to be honest, he’s lucky this prison isn’t very big. But that doesn’t mean nothing will happen if others figure out what he’s in for.”
You nodded, knowingly.
“Powell and Callahan just got here. We’re gonna be quiet. No lights, nothing. I don’t want to make this worse for Billy. But if he wants to see, we’re going soon.”
“Thank you, Hopper,” you’d said, hugging him. He’d let you. He’d had his fair share of a shitty father as a kid. Helping someone like Billy is something he’d always wanted to do.
Back in Billy’s room, you’d taken his face in your hands.
“Baby, they’re taking him now. Do you want to watch or stay inside?”
His back had straightened. He knew what he wanted, and he told you as much, so you led him through to the back steps, holding his hand the whole time, Max behind you, resting her chin on her brother's arm.
Billy got to watch them shove his father in the back of a police car, hands behind his back.
He was finally free.
————
Susan pawned most of Neil's more expensive things, that way she'd have money to cover bills for a while and have something to put towards the house payment. She hadn't really been trusted with the financials when Neil was around, aside from basic spending. Now that she had two children to look after, she really didn't want to be in a bad spot.
She had a feeling most newly divorced women would use the money to buy themselves something nice, but she didn't see any point in that. This wasn't about her. This was about making a life where Billy and Max could feel safe.
Even if Billy had whined about it to you at first, having dinner with Max and Susan at least three times a week to start was helping. And he would never admit this, but Susan was actually a pretty damn good cook. Whenever she'd prepared food pre-inmate Neil, they'd been kind of shitty. Billy supposed this had been her tiny form of protest.
It's pretty late now, but Billy is sprawled on the couch watching reruns of whatever. He's really not even entirely sure what's happening on tv. He thinks this might be Cheers. It's the fact that he can be on the couch that he's doing it. He doesn't have any particular reason to hide in his room unless he wants to.
He's missed this couch. It's the same one he's sat on since he was a kid. Since his mother was still around. It was one of the few items that made it to Hawkins when they moved.
Susan has the day off tomorrow. She said so at dinner. Hence why she's still up.
Billy hears her footsteps and looks up when she walks into the room. She gives him a gentle smile.
"I'm making Max some hot chocolate. You feel like some? I have marshmallows too, if you want those."
"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks."
She smiles again and then disappears for a while before returning with a mug that has a six-year-old Max's hand print on it.
Billy sits up and takes a sip. He can't remember the last time someone made him someone other than you or Nicky made him something like this.
Susan sits down a little ways away from Billy in an oversized chair that Max usually claims as her own. The only time anyone else gets to sit in it are in times like these when she's being forced to do science homework with Dustin yapping in her ear. She'd asked for help, not an entirely new lesson. Dustin did not care.
Susan starts to read a book, and Billy almost forgets she's in the room when she speaks.
"Billy?"
His eyes rove across from the television to her over the top of his mug. She sets the book down.
"I just wanted to apologize. For not doing anything to protect you from your dad. I don't really have a reason other than selfish ones, like I was afraid he'd start on me, or Max. I guess I just thought if he got it out things would be okay." She buries her face in her hands.
"God, I'm so sorry, Billy. This is your home, and I came into your life and took you away from where you'd grown up, and I never stopped to think about what it was doing to you. I was only thinking about myself."
“I should’ve helped take care of you. You were just a kid. You’re still just a kid. And I’ve done nothing but let you down. I want to be better. I’m not saying I want to replace your mom or anything, but I don’t want you to feel unsafe or unwelcome here anymore.”
Billy keeps drinking his hot chocolate but he has to hold it with both hands because they’re shaking now.
“I feel like I don’t even know you. And maybe that’s because you didn’t want to know me, or maybe because I just avoided you.”
“I’m just so sorry, Billy. I want to try. I am trying. The both of you deserve so much better and you don’t have to accept this. I just wanted you to know that and that I care about you.”
Billy is quiet and for a moment it scares Susan, but she understands he might not have anything to say. He might not want to say anything. He might be waiting until he can afford to move out of this fucking house.
But Billy finally sets his mug down. It’s empty. He looks at Susan and he nods.
“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I understand. I don’t blame you and I appreciate that you want to try. I want to try, too.”
Susan nods back, a sweet smile on her face. It’s gentle, the look she’s giving him.
Billy does understand though. His being the target of Neil’s abuse prevented both Max and Susan from it. He understands that Susan was afraid of her husband and the man that she might not have known he’d unveil to be. She was scared. He understands.
He’s willing to try. To let her in.
She stands and picks up Billy’s empty cup. “Was it okay?” she asks, “It’s just the store bought kind.”
“Yeah. Yeah it was great.”
When she grins at him she looks young. She looks tired and upset, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it means change. Maybe it means she’s learning. She’s trying.
————
“Wear mine.”
Billy looks at you through the mirror in front of which he’s been primping. He claims he doesn’t like it when you say he’s “getting pretty.” His blush says otherwise.
“Yours?”
He rolls his eyes and puts down the hairspray he was holding. “Yeah. It’s fuckin’ cold tonight. Just put mine on. I don’t want you to walk all the way back to your house just to get something I have.”
You snort, making for his closet door. “All the way back?”
He bumps your hip with his, a common you-little-shit gesture.
“Because I live so far away.” You greet the pornstar taped to the thin wood before sliding it open.
“Should be on the right,” Billy says, ignoring your comment and shoving cologne down the front of his pants while you aren’t looking. It’s a habit at this point. Shit, he doesn’t even think about it, and he knows he doesn’t have to impress you.
You push around the clothing hanging in his closet, a couple button-ups, leather, a sweater you’ve never seen him in. It’s this cream color, thick and cable knit. You pull it out.
“How come you don’t wear this?” you ask, holding it up to him. He unsnaps another button from his shirt and your eyes follow the movement even though you don’t mean to ogle.
Billy looks the sweater up and down like it’s grossing him out. “I wore it once,” he tells you.
“Once,” you mock playfully, putting the shirt back into his closet.
Billy’s hands are on your hips in an instant, spinning you around. “I thought you were getting a jacket, not raiding my belongings.”
You stick your tongue out at him. It’s childish and you know it, but you do it anyway. He smacks your ass in retaliation, and you go to squeeze his but he grabs your wrist, pulling it to his mouth so that he can kiss your pulse point.
“Barf.” The voice makes you turn your head, and Max has pushed the door open fully where it had been cracked.
“Hi, Max,” you say, pulling your hand from Billy’s grasp, even if he pouts, and moving to actually retrieve the denim jacket you’d been instructed to wear.
You can feel Billy and Max staring at each other. “What do you need?” he asks her.
“Just came to see if we were planning on leaving today or if I should maybe hitch a ride elsewhere.” She enters the room and sits down on the edge of her brother’s bed.
Billy glances at his watch. “You said to have you at El’s by seven-thirty. We’ve got time.”
She crosses her arms and Billy faces the mirror again. He thinks he’s finished. “Did you even finish packing your bag, shithead?”
You shove your arms through the jacket sleeves, looking at Max. She raises her eyebrows. No, she definitely did not. There’s a flash of red hair as she hops up, and then she’s gone, the sound of dresser drawers being yanked open and shut echoing down the hall.
You start rolling up the cuffs, and Billy reaches for the collar, adjusting it for you. You’re focused on getting your hands free when you feel Billy’s finger lifting your chin up. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you once. He pulls away and you move back in, wanting one more. He obliges, albeit grinning at your eagerness. When you’ve gotten your fill, you kiss his cheek, and that’s the one that makes him blush.
He moves away from you, pulling on his own jacket. “I’m gonna go start the car, okay?”
“M’kay.”
Max let it slip once that Billy always went out to warm up the car before taking them to school. She wouldn’t have assumed it was for her right off the bat, but when she realized he didn’t do that when it was just him in the car, she figured out it was him being nice. Now he just does it for the both of you. You won’t ever say anything about it.
You look at yourself in Billy’s mirror, listening to his footsteps down the hall and out into the living room. You put your hands in the pockets of his jacket, and to your surprise you feel something. It’s not spare change, or a lighter–anything you would’ve expected to find.
It’s a sheet of paper. You pull it out, thinking it might be homework he tucked away or a receipt or something. It’s not, though. It’s notebook paper, and it’s been neatly folded like it was done with purpose.
You sit on the edge of Billy’s bed, and unfold it. To your surprise, it’s a page covered in his handwriting, that pretty, sometimes faintly cursive scrawl. There are some lines scratched out because he used a pen and couldn’t erase. But the thing that catches your eye is the very first line. It’s just your name. It’s a letter. A letter for you.
Your heart starts to race and you find yourself beginning to read, sinking further into his mattress.
There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, it reads.
Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long I’d forgotten what those were. I’ve been stuck in one place. In a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave. And then I sat with you at lunch, and bought you a book, and suddenly you were part of my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy.
But, tonight I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like I’m pulling away from you or something. I’m sitting here and I’m thinking about the way you looked at me that first night at the record store. The way you held on to me when I slept over for the first time. I’m not even sure if you remember it, but every time I tried to move throughout the night you whined like you were afraid I was going to leave you. Like you needed me.
But you didn’t know about my dad or that I was falling in love with you then. And I can’t stop thinking about how I raised my voice at you when I came over today.
You pause, realizing when it was that he wrote this. The day he fought back.
And I’ve been afraid for so long that I might turn out like him. That I might be just the same. And I’ve been scared that you might realize that too and leave me behind. But I didn’t feel that way today when you spoke to me like a human being and you wanted to work things out. I’m changing. You’re changing me. We’re changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change. Because there’s a part of me that worries you might still change your mind. The rest of me knows you won’t.
So I think maybe what I’m saying is that when you didn’t know about how I felt or who I really am on the inside that it didn’t feel like I’d lose you. But now I’ve let you in and you can see all of me. And now that you’ve said you love me I really don’t want things to change. I don’t want to lose you or want you to go.
But I know that’s naive. To think you’ll leave. That’s not who you are. I know you’d look at me and say that’s not how this is going to work.
My whole life everyone has picked someone else over me. Left me behind. Left me on my own. And I know that’s how life works. It’s moving. Always moving and people change whether you like it or not. But you’ve taught me that change can be good. That it doesn’t always mean people changing their mind about me. About caring about me or that I’m good enough to keep around.
And sometimes change is painful. Sometimes it’s sad and sometimes it’s surprising.
Happy.
So you know what? I don’t think change is bad anymore. I think I’m supposed to learn from it. I think that when life hurts, because I know parts of it are going to hurt and there will be things that always hurt, I should remember it. Because the hurt is good. It means I’m out of that cave.
I just want you to hold my hand while I figure it all out.
You finish reading and fold the letter back up, putting it back where you found it. You hadn’t realized you were crying, but you were, and you spend the next few minutes fixing yourself in Billy’s mirror.
When he returns he thinks you’re the one primping.
“Ready, baby?” he asks. “Max is in the car.”
You turn to him, and he smiles at you. That pretty, pretty smile. You kiss him on both cheeks and then shut off his bedroom light.
“I’m ready.”
————
Billy pulls away from Hop’s cabin after dropping Max off, but he’s quick to stop the car again.
You were quiet the whole way there. Sweet as always, no doubt, but it was clear something was bothering you. He doesn’t like it when things upset his girl.
“What are you doing, Hargrove? We’re gonna miss the movie if you keep this up.”
He raises his eyebrows at you. “Well excuse the hell outta me, hon’.”
You slap your hands against your face, peeking through your fingers at him in hopes that he’ll go ahead and scold you.
“I want you to tell me what’s wrong, baby.” Billy doesn’t have to elaborate. You never seem to have to explain your feelings to him much anymore. It’s like he’s figuring you out, like he understands and knows when something’s bugging you or if you’re hurting.
“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” you say.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”
You nod, and reach into the pocket of the jacket, pulling free the paper. It’s seconds before Billy sees the striped sheet that he remembers what it is, what he’d left in there.
It all comes back to him, his wrist hurting from pouring his heart out, the relief he felt at putting his feelings somewhere.
You hand it to him. He unfolds it and scans it over. “You read it?” He knows you did.
“Yeah.” You smile shyly at him, and it’s the same smile you gave him that very first night that you came to check on him. Billy wants to kiss you, so he leans over the center console and does; he presses his mouth to your forehead, warm and sweet. His presence is all-encompassing: heady cologne, minty gum. So very Billy. So much like home.
He hands the paper back to you. “Feelings, huh?” he says, his mouth pulling up at the corners.
“Feelings.”
You sandwich your hands between your thighs, taking a deep breath. Your eyes start to water and you can’t help it.
“Billy, I would never leave you, okay?” You were hoping the tears wouldn’t spill over, but it doesn’t matter because your voice fails you. It wavers and you sound fragile, young. And then he’s taking your face in his hands, wiping under your eyes even though there isn’t anything to wipe yet, just soothing motions over the apples of your cheeks, calloused thumbs and warm skin.
He stares at you, his eye contact unbreaking. When he looks at you like that, blue eyes boring into yours, you can’t help but feel a little full. Because he’s looking at you like that. You.
“I know that. I know.”
You nod, and he nods with you, so much that it looks silly, the both of you nodding, and you start to laugh.
“I made you feel that way? Really?”
“Of course you did,” Billy says. “My whole life I’ve felt like I’m like a black hole or somethin’. You don’t make me feel that way.”
Your heart aches for him. For this boy who’s had no one tell him how good he is. Who’s finally let you in. Who’s finally realized he can have better, and that he deserves to.
“I love you, Billy.”
He kisses you on each cheek, your face warm against his lips. He grins and you can feel it on your face.
“I love you too.”
When you get to the movie theater, you do pay for popcorn, and you do hand him the snacks you kept in your bag after you take your seats. Your mother said movie candy was getting much too expensive.
You pop a handful of Sno Caps in your mouth, and Billy opens his mouth. You sprinkle some in his, and then reach for his hand.
He looks down at your clasped fingers while a kid almost faceplants with a bucket of popcorn on the way up the stairs. Thankfully their father caught them first.
“You did say you wanted me to hold your hand.”
“I did,” Billy says.
—————
“Sit still, I’ll be right back, I swear.”
Billy crosses his arms, but it’s hard for him to look entirely brooding when he’s got plum shadow on his eyelids. You stand. “Here, Max, supervise.” You hand her the brush between your fingers, and she snorts at her brother from where she lays across your bed.
You make for the living room, suppressing a grin at the sounds of laughter emanating from the area. Susan and Nicky sit on opposite sides of the couch, watching The Golden Girls and talking about whatever it is that mothers-of-dating-children talk about.
“Mom,” you say, coming to a stop in front of her.
“Hi, honeybee. What’s the matter?”
“Can I use some of your makeup? There’s some things you’ve got that I haven’t and–”
She smiles at you, adjusting the well-loved pillow squished behind her back. “You know you can. Whatever you need.”
Her grin is contagious, and you find yourself smiling back just the same. “Thank you.”
She nods. “Playing dress up?” Your mother gives you a knowing look, thinking about the idea you’d had in mind ever since you watched Rocky Horror with Billy that first time.
“You could say so,” you tell her, and then you’re off to raid her bathroom cabinet, pulling free the large and full bag of goodies.
You start to rifle through the corduroy pouch, but decide it’d be easier to take the whole thing with you to your room, so that’s what you do.
When you return, you settle on your knees in front of your boyfriend, still finding it odd that you get to call him that now, even if that is exactly what he is to you. Your pretty, pretty boyfriend. Your boyfriend who’s letting you do his makeup.
Max hands you your brush back, raising herself up on her elbows so that she can watch the show better.
“Hi,” you say to him, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Hi,” he responds, his voice showing all signs that he’s both enjoying this, yet also grumping about the fact that he let you do it in the first place. He settles back on his hands, legs spread so that you can sit in between them and reach him. You pull free both the pencil of thick liner you’d been looking for, and a pot of blush you know to be much pinker than the one you’ve got. Yours has also been broken on multiple occasions so that now it’s just little bits of pink powder sliding around in the pan.
You uncap the liner first, a warm brown shade, clearly freshly sharpened by your mother. “Close your eyes, pretty please,” you tell him. He obliges, lids fluttering shut.
You reach out, and starting to drag the tip of the pencil across his skin, you realize your hand isn’t as steady as you’d like, considering the fact that you’re also half-focused on not kneeing Billy in a place you’re quite sure he’d prefer to not be kneed.
You let out a frustrated sigh, and Billy blinks up at you. “What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t working. Just–” You shove the eyeliner pencil into his hands, and then move from between his legs. You grip his calves and move his legs together, then crawl forwards a little and straddle his lap.
He grins up at you, a cocky and mischievous look. “Comfy?”
“Shut up and close your eyes again.”
“Well you don’t want much.”
You pinch the squish of his side and he swats blindly at your arm. You take Billy’s face in your hand, resting the pinky of your dominant one against his cheekbone. This go around you’re able to drag the liner effectively across his eyelid. A tap at his face signals he needs to look up, and when he does, you do the same to his lower hip. Afterwards, you take a super small brush that Max found and use it to smudge the eyeliner out some, that way the lines aren’t so harsh.
You finish and take Billy’s face in your hands again, turning it to face Max. “Thoughts?”
She taps her chin, though smiling all the same. “Very nice.”
With a little more manhandling, you get some mascara on those lashes of his, though not without a little pleased squeaking in the process. It’s at the blush that you get excited enough to make him laugh. You swipe your brush heavily across his cheeks, and then the tip of his nose, where you’re probably much too generous. You don’t care. He looks so, so pretty, all blushy like this.
“Part your lips.” You say, thumb tugging at his bottom one. You put a gloss on Billy’s lips and almost lose it for good. He’s so gorgeous.
When you finish, you wipe your hands clean on a towel and back up a little ways from him to survey your work.
You clap your hands. “Max, help me. Would you look at this?”
She does, laughing gleefully. “Oh my god, this is so good.”
You look Billy in the eyes, and Max hops up off of your bed to get a better look. “You look so gorgeous, my love.”
He’s thankful for the blush in that moment, because without it you’d see the effect your using that name had on him.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Wanna see?” God, you look so happy.
“Do I have to?”
You bite your lip and Billy pulls it free, taking the little handheld mirror from you.
And, honestly, he thinks he looks kinda hot. You picked a good eyeshadow color, one that makes his blue eyes stand out even more, and he just looks pretty. Just as you’d said.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. You did a very good job.”
He goes to kiss you, but you stop him. “Nope. You’ll mess up my work!”
Billy rolls his eyes and flips Max a bird when he sees her giggling at your enthusiasm and his compliance.
“Can I take a picture?” you ask.
Billy holds up his hands. “Oh hell no.”
“Billy, she needs to document her masterpiece,” Max says, though really she knows it’d make great blackmail. That and she loves how happy the both of you seem. She’d like to remember this too.
“Please?” You give him your very best puppy dog eyes, making sure they’re watery and everything. You know he’ll give in.
“Fine. But you show this to anyone, and you’re both dead.”
You laugh, grabbing for your Polaroid camera. “Who the fuck do you think I’m gonna show? Everyone I know is in this room.”
Billy’s smiles then, and you’re just quick enough to catch it. You get another after you kiss his sparkly forehead. And when you’ve finished, you stick them in the frame of your mirror so they’ll always be there.
That night, after Max and Susan have gone home, you sit in the bathroom to help Billy wash the makeup off, but only when you’d let Nicky see, and she thought he looked stunning. Showstopping, she’d said.
And it’s then, as you wipe the rosy tinge from his cheeks, revealing his freckles once again, that you realize months before this you’d been so alone. You’d ached for a moment like this.
And here you were. So even if the journey to get here had hurt, even if it’d been hard and pushed you to your limits, it’s okay. Because that’s how life works. It hurts sometimes. And that’s okay.
Because the hurt? The hurt is good.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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The Raven King - Chapter Seven
Day: Thursday, October 5th
Time: 11:30 PM EST
"I mean literally soft. Too many curves, see? I feel like my hands would slide right off. It's totally not my thing. I like..." He drew a box with his fingers as he searched for words. "Erik. Erik's perfect. He's a total outdoors junkie, rock climbing and hiking and mountain biking, all that awful bug-infested fresh-air stuff. He's stronger than I am, and I like that. I feel like I could lean on him all day and he wouldn't break a sweat."
"Funny," Nicky said. "That didn't used to be my type. None of the others I crushed on growing up were anything like that. Maybe that's why none of them could help me."
Nicky turned his hands palm-up on the table and considered them. "My parents are kind of crazy, you know? There's religious and there's super psychotic religious. Me and Renee, we're the decent sort, I think. We go to different churches and have some different ideas, but we respect each other anyway. We understand that religion is just an interpretation of faith. But my parents are the black-and-white crazy kind. It's only right and wrong with them: hellfire and damnation and judgment from on high.
"For some reason I tried coming out to them anyway," Nicky said. "Mom was pretty upset. She locked herself in the bedroom and cried and prayed for days. Dad took a more direct route and shipped me off to Christian gay camp. I spent a year learning that I was infected by a disgusting idea from the devil, that I was a living test for every other good Christian on the planet. They tried using God to shame me into being straight.
"It didn't work," Nicky said. "For a while I wished it did. I went home feeling like an abomination and a failure. I couldn't face my parents like that, so I lied. I pretended to be straight for the rest of high school. I even dated a couple girls. I kissed a couple of them, but I used my faith as an excuse never to get further than first base. I knew I just had to keep it together until graduation.
"I hated my life so much," Nicky said. "I couldn't do that, you know? I couldn't live a lie like that day after day. I felt trapped. Some days I thought God abandoned me; sometimes I thought I failed Him. Halfway through my junior year I started thinking about suicide. Then my German teacher took me aside and told me about a study abroad program. She would set it all up for me, she said, if my parents would sign off on it. She'd handle admissions and get a host family and everything. It'd be expensive, but she thought I needed a change in scenery. Guess she knew I was that close to the edge.
"I didn't think Mom and Dad would go for it, but they were so proud of me for my so-called recovery they agreed to let me go my senior year. I just had to last another semester and then I could go. I was so desperate to get out of there I didn't even really pay attention when Aaron and Aunt Tilda moved to Columbia that spring. All I cared about was keeping it together until May. I know now I should have tried harder, but I would've been no good to him how I was.
"When the plane took off from Columbia, I was scared to death," Nicky said. "I was so relieved to leave my parents and everyone I knew, but I didn't know if being in Germany would change anything. When I landed, my new host brother was waiting for me in Arrivals. Erik Klose," Nicky said, sounding it out like he was saying it for the first time. "He taught me to believe in myself. He showed me how to balance my faith and my sexuality, and he made me okay again. I know it sounds dramatic, but he saved my life."
Nicky flipped his hands over and laced his fingers together. The look he turned on Neil was as reassuring as it was worried and made Neil want to edge away. "That's what love is about, see? That's why Exy isn't ever going to be enough, not for you or Andrew or anyone. It can't hold you up, and it won't make you a stronger or better person."
Art used with permission by Kurra. Thank you @kurra !
#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#trk#the raven king#the foxhole court#andrew minyard#palmetto state university#psu foxes#andreil#on this day in aftg#otdiaftg#palmetto state foxes#otdi all for the game#nora sakavic#the foxes#on this day in all for the game#kevin day#nicky hemmick#aaron minyard#coach wymack#betsy dobson#abby winfield#matt boyd#dan wilds#renee walker#allison reynolds#artists#kurra
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Okay this isn't like all the others but how good do you think they are at aftercare do you think they would just let you go to the toilet by yourself or do you think they would help you clean up
I think this really depends on like, the scenario for each!
Aftercare is sexy tho like damn you got me some saltines after blowing my back out? Get back in this bed rn-
HAHAHA anyways. I’m assuming this is after each member’s version of what “intense” is like Nicholas’s intense is tying you up and flogging your clit different than like, Jolly’s intense yknow? There’s different needs to be met.
With Nicky I feel like it’s balls to the walls aftercare. There’s a warm drink and an iced water, there’s a charcuterie board for snacking, he’s running you a bubble bath and lighting candles, there’s a playpen of kittens in the living room and he paid Samuel Beam to softly play ukulele on the couch. He knows he’s a lot okay. So it’s really about making sure you know how much he loves and adores you and appreciates how much trust you put in him.
Noah is throwing an old t-shirt at you and asking if you want a room temp Gatorade AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH I’m so sorry okay I’m joking I don’t actually hate him guys it’s just a bit now- no but really, he’s less hands on than Nicky bc I don’t think it’s as necessary. Like. He might be choking you a little bit and calling you names but it’s nothing a kiss to the forehead and pulling you into his chest can’t fix. He’d get you water after a minute and give you some privacy to wipe down all your bits, but he’s joining you in the shower afterwards and scrubbing your back with the fancy soap y’all only use after sex (so domestic Awh)
Nick needs like, 5 minutes apart to breathe okay like that was a lot for him too!! He put in the work!! Once his body temperature is below 400 degrees tho he’s pulling you in for a sloppy kiss and asking if you had fun even though a quick glance at the wet patch on the bed would confirm that you did. Probably fist-bumps you and says “that was some of our best work yet” (he says this every time) definitely uses humor to make sure you’re doing okay. Hands you water from the bedside table because he’s always prepared!!
Y’all don’t worry about what jolly is doing during aftercare that’s our grown folks time anyways who said that uhhh yeah jolly is a-okay being gross and covered in sweat and cum, that’s tomorrow’s problem to him! After sex he just really wants to be close, spoons you tight and peppers your face and neck and shoulders and whatever else he can reach with kisses. I have a headcanon that jolly is the one everyone has walked in on naked the most bc I don’t think he even considers putting on clothes after sex he just needs a nap. Might put on sweats to get you a drink and a snack but they’re coming off when that door shuts. Likes staying up and talking with you about anything and everything afterwards, both to make sure you’re okay and also because he just likes talking to you. Very touchy feely. I’m crying.
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Yeah to add to that anon, I've been coming across some stuff on different platforms as well in the last 24 hours and honestly, I'm very disappointed in some individuals. I can see where show fans were coming from to some extent only accepting what was shown. Some of them got way out of hand, but some of these comments are now coming from people that have been in the fandom. I know Sam was also subjected to this but if I'm being honest, I think it's worse for Jacob because he already had to hear, and still is hearing it, just for being casted. There are the normal comments on YouTube making comments about Claudia/Assad/Jacob's race which I think as a fandom we have come to sadly expect, but I'm very disheartened to see it with some individuals in the fandom who were criticizing the group (and rightfully so) doing it to Sam last year that are now being just as ugly and/or insensitive toward Jacob, Claudia, and/or Assad.
-I've seen someone refer to Louis as Amber Heard and Sam as Johnny Deep.
-Tumblr posts saying Louis has manipulated Lestat the entire time and only did anything wrong (Antoinette, etc) in response to Louis' manipulations.
-There are some comments on a subreddit not under the IWTV subreddit saying that the the showrunners need to realize that Sam is the only reason people are watching the show.
-Another stating they are glad Louis is going to be exposed as a liar so maybe people will lose interest in Loustat and consider replacing him with Nicki.
-Another comment saying Louis/Jacob should be killed off along with Claudia because he is the true abuser and they don't want to see Lestat yearning for him after wronging Lestat.
-Another conversation that started as a discussion with Lestat's bloody frame from the trailer that ended in criticizing Rolin's comments about keeping Jacob around longer than season 2 because they would prefer to see Lestat with other love interests that are worthy of him.
-Another attacking Assad's looks.
-Another suggesting other actors who should have been casted as IWTV characters, rating them lowly, and detailing what is wrong with their looks in a discord. Poor Assad is getting the brunt of that one.
-A tweet from someone outside of the fandom complaining about the iwtv fandom for crossing the line with Eric and saying they should be jailed so I'm assuming it was not a pleasant exchange.
It is ridiculous and I had to get off IWTV related media today because it also crossed my mind that Jacob and Assad could probably see a lot of this. I commented this and was told "well they did it to sam so now it's jacob's turn."
How… nice.
Some points of this I actually saw, so…
Tbh, the cast is aware of the backlash just look at how nervous Sam was at the SDCC panel (and that was before the main shit even started). They know. And I also think it is no coincidence that Jacob withdrew a bit or that Assad was shit scared of taking on Armand.
This story comes with baggage because for some reason people just cannot stay polite. Don’t see the human behind the screen. Separate them from the role. Ugh. It makes me want to scream.
I really wished I‘d been wrong there, honestly 😒
I expect it to get worse before it gets better and I can only recommend that everyone curates their bubble / feed accordingly.
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An Attempted Explanation of Andrew’s “Manic Pills”
One of the things that bothers me about AFTG is Andrew’s medicine. The way most of the characters talk about court-mandated psychiatry and sobriety and mania is a questionable and often harmful representation of what it’s like to experience mania/hypomania — which like, it’s fiction, that’s fine, but it’s also something that I take a lil personally. So I’ve decided to try to legitimize the whole thing for myself, just because I can!
Necessary to note: I’m not a medical professional, a lawyer, etc. I’m usually a pretty good fact-checker, but I could definitely be wrong abt stuff, and I’d love for you to tell me if I am. I ran a lot of this by the lovely @the-greater-grief, who does have a medical background and also inspired me with this analysis they did on Andrew’s mental health. They were really helpful in explaining a lot of the more technical drug information, so they’re largely responsible for most of the theory that makes sense lol. But, they are also not responsible for me saying things that are wrong, lol! Alsooooo, I’ve been in the fandom for less than a year so it’s possible I’m saying stuff people have said before. Idc. I’m having fun reinventing the wheel lmfao. Okay, onwards!
The post has two parts:
Lovingly dismantling a lot of the bullshit Neil tells us in the books
Setting up a more realistic version of Andrew’s mental health situation
Apologies in advance, this got long-winded. Let’s do this!
Dismissing Neil’s framing
AFTG is told from Neil’s perspective, so we as readers are limited to the things he knows and understands. We know that Neil is often unreliable, and as perceptive as he can be, he makes a lot of questionable assumptions that he internalizes as fact.
This is what he tells us, rather crudely:
Andrew tried to kill some guys, because he might be a psychopath/sociopath.
Rather than being sent to prison, he was court-mandated to take drugs that make him “manic”/less likely to kill other people.
The manic pills make him crazy and also make him sick, to the point where the characters refer to him as “sober” when he is unmedicated.
The withdrawal is severe enough that his psych wants him to be hospitalized to come off them.
We learn all this about Andrew’s treatment from three sources: Information Neil read before he even joined the Foxes, Nicky’s exposition dumps, and Andrew’s actual behavior. The bullshit mostly comes from the first two items on this list, because Andrew never cares to explain much of his situation to Neil. And we can actually brush all of it off pretty easily.
Neil builds most of his perception of Andrew’s treatment on top of information from articles he read about Kevin’s transfer to Palmetto State. These articles were unkind — the Exy world was upset that Kevin was leaving the Ravens, and Andrew was painted in a cruel and probably inaccurate way. Neil mentions an article headlined “The Prince & the Pauper”... I personally would not take anything from that article seriously.
Some of this bullshit is corroborated by Nicky, a 20-something year old jock majoring in marketing. When Andrew was sentenced, we can guess that Nicky (still basically a teenager himself) was very scared that his cousin, who he is responsible for, was going to get sent to prison. Based on the way he talks about mental health in general, I wouldn’t consider him to be an expert on the nitty-gritty of psychiatry. He just saw the outcome of the trial, which was not prison, yay! and instead involved some kind of pills that made Andrew way more social. Also, as much as I think Nicky tries, he doesn’t really get Andrew — he thought Andrew was straight, and then he thought he was hate-fucking Neil. He’s not a reliable source when it comes to judging how Andrew’s brain works/how he is affected by his treatment.
This leaves Andrew’s behavior, because he never talks about his mental health except to say that he’s “crazy” and that he is not a sociopath. When he’s on the medicine, his behavior includes an elevated mood, a short attention span, and trouble curbing his impulses. When he doesn’t take his medicine on time, he experiences withdrawal (nausea, fatigue, etc), and feeling ill seems to curb some of his mood elevation enough to let him think with more clarity. When he’s off it, he is able to shut down his emotional reactions to things, though he still exhibits flashes of the rage, depression, and zingy one-liners from his behavior in the first two books.
Also, the only people who actually seem to understand Andrew’s mental health treatment are Andrew himself, Bee, and probably Wymack. Aaron might also have a better handle on it all because he’s pre-med, and also he understands Andrew enough to clock that he is gaga for Neil lol.
Okay. Bullshit? Gone.
A proposed alternate story
Once upon a time, some homophobes started beating up Andrew’s cousin and the only legal guardian that didn’t treat him like utter shit, so he went feral on them.
He gets arrested, and somewhere along the line the courts determine that his violence stems from mental illness. Rather than being sentenced to prison, he gets some kind of probation that mandates he engage in mental health treatment. The psychiatrist he sees at the time determines that he has depression — which, like, they’ve definitely seen his self-harm scars, so this is a fair assumption — and he is prescribed an antidepressant.
Now’s a good time to mention that no one would ever intentionally prescribe something to induce mania in a patient. Mania is a supremely dangerous state. People get hospitalized to get out of a manic episode. Whenever I even inch toward it, my therapist and psych are like, “CALL ME!!!!” It also would do nothing to curb violence — the opposite, actually, if the manic person often has a hard time holding themselves back from hurting themselves and others. If you look at Andrew’s behavior in the first two books, I don’t think it would even qualify as full-blown mania. He sleeps, he fulfills his responsibilities, he doesn’t seem to have any delusions of grandeur. His symptoms align better with hypomania, which is less severe and accounts for the things we noted before (mood elevation, short attention span, irritability, impulsiveness). I also think a lot of the stuff Andrew does that is attributed to his medicine is probably just Andrew being Andrew — because as Aaron once said, “it wasn’t the drugs that made him crazy.” (I wrote more about this once in an Andrew character study I did.)
So, the antidepressants would’ve been prescribed to treat the depression, which hypothetically could’ve made Andrew so hopeless and full of rage that he was constantly on the verge of flipping his shit on people. There are plenty of antidepressants that will make you sick/be less effective if you fuck with your dosing schedule, and all the alcohol he drinks probably doesn’t help either. Still, the medicine would just treat depression. HOWEVER! If Andrew actually has bipolar disorder (:D!!!), then some antidepressants do have a risk of inducing mania/hypomania!
It should’ve been obvious that Andrew’s antidepressant was not working as intended. But I doubt Nicky, Andrew, and Aaron had great health insurance before they enrolled at Palmetto, so Andrew’s court-mandated mental health provider was probably like, “cool, not trying to kill people anymore, we’re good.” A good provider like Bee would clock that Andrew had been misdiagnosed, and she’d want to adjust his medicine. But this leads to the final part of the theory — actually suggested by the brilliant Grimm — which also could explain how Andrew came to trust Bee.
If Bee diagnosed Andrew with bipolar, she would want to switch him over to lithium, which is the most common bipolar medicine. I’ve never actually been on lithium, and while I’ve heard it can be really effective, it definitely has a bad reputation — some people say it makes them feel like a “zombie.” Fatigue/dizziness/drowsiness are known potential side effects, especially when you’re adjusting to changed doses — and anyone who’s ever been on a psych med knows that it takes a while to get the dose right. I’m guessing (justified) control freak Andrew Minyard would not be down to risk feeling like a zombie.
(Sidenote: people with bipolar II also get put on lamotrigine, which specifically manages low moods, but from what I can tell it wouldn’t have been common in the mid-2000s. it was only approved for bipolar treatment in 2003.)
Maybe Bee made him a deal: He can stay on the antidepressant, which is not working but is also not the most dangerous thing, as long as he fully commits to their talk therapy sessions so that he can learn how to cope with his symptoms. This is similar to the deal Wymack struck with Andrew. He tends to trust the small handful of people who have given him agency.
Alright, that’s the theory! Andrew has bipolar disorder. He’s not on the right meds. The courts are not doing silly illegal things (well, not in this case anyway), and the jocks of PSU are the real stereotypes here.
Because at the end of the day, this is a tale as old as time: People with mental illness are easily made out to be the villain.
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Jason Todd as a Fox instead of a Bat
Request for anon! I took a little bit to turn this over in my brain because the timeline for aftg is so tight and Jason's timelines are... All over the place.
So for reference purposes, I'm calling this an AU where after coming back from the Lazarus pit, he was still trained by Ra's Al Ghul and Talia, however instead of returning to Gotham to become the Red Hood, he takes a detour, quits his life of crime, and signs up for exy.
(It's a bit of a stretch but I think I make it work. This also lowkey made me end up shipping Kevin and Jason)
I'm putting this under a readmore because it accidentally got SUPER long
Jason was first introduced to exy as a pastime sport the trainees from the league of assassins would play. It's good for endurance training, muscle building, etc. etc. and it seemed like a good outlet, so he gave it a shot
His portfolio, much like Neil's, came in the form of a video. He copied and stole the security camera footage from the court they used.
As he gets more into exy he also starts to learn about the teams that are out there and kind of realizes he's not doomed to a life of crime. He can escape this, if he's smart.
And the Foxes are an underdog team. Not many eyes will be on them, so it will be easier to remain hidden if anyone comes looking for him.
The next week, he gets an acceptance email from the school, and a "welcome to the team, see you in a month!" message from a man named David Wymack
(Little did Jason know David would become more of a father to him than Bruce ever was.)
Things aren't exactly rough when he gets there, but he's definitely lived in more pleasant places. The dorm rooms are just fine by him, but the other members of the exy team make him jumpy
Most of them ignore him at first, and he kindly reciprocates.
They get along well enough in practice, Jason preferring to use his larger stature to play a good, solid defense. He's great at planting himself in the way of the oncoming strikers, and they always underestimate his speed because of his size.
(He was always taught to defend and protect, after all...)
It's not until about the events of TFC when Neil starts to bring the team together that Jason really starts to get to know everyone. Kind of reluctantly, since he was happy being on his own with a provided cover story.
But Neil pushes and he gives like a broken dam. There's still that little kid somewhere stuck in there that wishes someone would just care for him.
Eventually he starts to open up on his own to the others, ending up really connecting with Kevin. Kevin and him were both raised by men who wanted the best from them, expected no less, and met disappointment with hard, frozen stairs.
Jason could count on his fingers the times Bruce had smiled at him or told him "good job". Kevin couldn't even name one time the Moriyamas ever did.
And as he opens up he begins to see his family in the faces of his new friends. He sees the bubbly positivity in Nicky that reminds him of Steph. He's hearing the same logical calculations that Tim would make come from Aaron's mouth instead. He sees Dick in every move Matt makes, both of them born for teamwork and support. He sees a flicker of Renee out of the corner of his eye and for a second can swear it's Cass.
While he tells him the things that have happened to them, they're met with stunned silence. But honestly, Jason is grateful for everyone to accept it and go, considering Neil's past is still chasing him. Jason's isn't, at least, not right now
It's not until after the first time Kevin and Jason end up in bed together and they're both shirtless that it really hits them both how fucked up they are. Both their bodies are littered with scars and old injuries.
But there is love and care in healing damaged things and Kevin traces his fingers along the angry lichtenberg scars left by the Lazarus pit.
Anyway they are shortly interrupted by the mob coming after Neil and Jason is basically like "jesus i could take care of this in 0.5 seconds but im not a murderer anymore and Matt has accidentally instilled a moral compass in me"
and then Neil gets fucking KIDNAPPED? and everyone gets roughed up by the crowed and gets taken to the hospital except for Jason who actually kept track of Neil during all this madness knowing there were literal people coming for him and his Vigilante Senses turned on.
NYWAY he tracks Neil to Nathan's hideout and he's basically the one who called it in because he's used to having to do such things from his time as Robin.
Basically Jason would take the place of Neil's uncle because where the fuck did HE even come from and this works better imo.
I decided I didn't want Jason to change much in the story because with his past and ESPECIALLY his time in the league of assassins, he could very easily become an OP Deus Ex Machina instead of a character in a story with ups and downs.
But this also made me want to a) rewrite the whole series but i do NOT have time to do that. but also b) i may end up writing a more in depth fic about Jason and Kevin and if that accidentally evolves into a series then WHOOPS!
Anyway hope you enjoyed!
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— 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
freelancer gets chronic nose bleeds, like they’ve got whole blood clots coming out their nose
sorry that was gross
anyways gavin has learned to always keep tissues on him and the moment freelancer moves a certain way he hands them a tissue
freelancer thinks it’s the most romantic thing in the world
freelancer wears nicki minaj perfume
“are you wearing nicki minaj’s ‘minajesty’ perfume?”
“i am— wait how did you know that? gavin? gavin!”
freelancer gifted gavin a teddy bear and he wasn’t really sure what to do with it so he just ended up holding it’s little paw in confusion
gavin sprays freelancer’s perfume on the teddy before bed, he considers it a nightly routine
gavin let’s caelum borrow the teddy bear when he sleeps over and he loves that it smells like freelancer
freelancer loves doing all kinds of self care with gavin
gavin loves doing face masks the most, likes the slimy feeling on his face for no particular reason :)
freelancer always paints gavin’s nails because they’re longer than theirs and they are starting to get really good at it
freelancer loves to play with gavin’s hand when they cuddle
speaking of cuddling, the positions that these two cuddle in rage for completely normal to how are you comfortable like that?
freelancer loves hearing gavin talk about his kind, they think he’s magical (unicorn magical)
gavin loves to tell freelancer that they’re his favorite charge
“you’re my favorite charge”
“i’m your only charge mr zero bitches”
he usually regrets mentioning it
when freelancer is asleep gavin loves to trace over their features
freelancer loves to make things out of clay, they usually do it with huxley but one night he was sick so they did it with gavin instead
he was a natural at sculpting
he has sculpted freelancers face out of clay but has never showed them
he keeps it to himself so he can remember what they looked like when they’re gone, down to the last detail
tracing their features came in handy
gavin runs cold and freelancer runs warm so gavin loves when they hold him
between classes gavin and freelancer will take a power nap until they have to leave for the next class
one time they slept through a two hour lecture
“gavin we were asleep for three hours”
“well shit. wanna go back to sleep?”
“…yeah alright”
these two seriously love snuggling each other it’s adorable
freelancer showed gavin what an easy bake oven was but that is a whole other story
“you’re telling me you eat the food that was cooked with this lightbulb?”
“this food shaped me into the person i am today”
gavin loves to randomly flush the toilet, he likes the way the water swirls
freelancer has caught him in the act three times already
he shows no signs of stopping
.love always <3 pearl
.masterlist
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redacted fandom#redacted hc#redacted headcanons#redactedverse#redacted fluff#redacted fanfic#redacted gavin#redacted gavin x freelancer#redacted freelancer x gavin#redacted freelancer#redacted vindemiator#redacted dahlia#redacted deviant#redacted audio freelancer#redacted audio gavin#redacted asmr freelancer#redacted asmr gavin#redacted audio headcanons#redacted asmr headcanons
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YOU: season 5
Spoilies for seasons 1-4 below:
Okay so they’ve said that people from Joe’s past will come back to haunt him and possibly bring him to justice. So, I’ve been thinking about who could be part of this group of people who’d want to take Joe down.
Blythe and Ethan would probably not have anything to do with it. Blythe sent Beck’s book to her agent and got it published. Neither she nor Ethan have anything against Joe because they don’t know that he’s a murderer. Paco and his mom also have no reason to go after Joe; he helped them. No one from season 1 knows that Joe is the one who killed Beck- except for Dr. Nicky. But Dr. Nicky found God in prison and has no urge to take Joe down (he says so in season 2).
As far as loose ends from season 2, Ellie is the obvious one. Her sister is dead because of Joe. Joe ruined her life and she’s definitely never forgiven him.
Season 3 has more loose ends than others. There’s Sherry and Cary, and Matthew and Theo Engler. Sherry and Cary were literally trapped in the cage by Love and Joe and Cary almost died. Love killed Matthew’s wife, Natalie, and severely injured Theo. Matthew was on to Love and Joe, too. He was very suspicious of them. You could even consider Dante a loose end because he’s the one who ended up taking care of Joe’s son, Theo.
As far as season 4 goes, Marienne and Nadia are the big loose ends. Joe abducted Marienne and trapped her in the cage for a long time and only got away due to the combined cleverness of herself and Nadia. Nadia is framed for Eddie’s murder at the end of the season, and she goes to prison. But she knows what Joe did to Marienne and the others; she knows who he is.
I’d love to see as many of these people as possible come together to take Joe down. I know Jenna Ortega (Ellie) is booked and busy as hell, but I really hope she comes back. An Avengers-esque team up of all the people Joe has wronged would make me so incredibly happy.
#You season 5#you season 4#you season 3#you season 2#you season 1#joe goldberg#love quinn#penn badgley#victoria pedretti#you netflix
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AFTG Headcanon Series [3] Aaron
part 1, part 2 part 3, part 4
Biromantic asexual but just isn't very open about it, the rumours of him being homophobic make him laugh because he's liked boys since middle school
Favourite colour is all variations of green and purple
Katelyn was his first proper girlfriend
Probably did a lot of bad things for bad people in order to get drugs when he was younger, he tries not to think about it
Got close with Matt after moving dorms
Was also very very sad when he had to leave because Neil moved in with Andrew but he got over it
THE OLDER TWIN i just please please "it's so obvious andrew is older because he" BUT WHAT IF HE WASN'T THEN WHAT I SAY
When he finds out he's the older twin he feels even worse for not knowing Andrew for so long, for not being able to protect him more
Because even if it was only by a few minutes, he wished he could have looked after his baby brother
Definitely loves all colours on the spectrum of blue and/or purple he just finds them so calming to look at (Katelyn paints his nails for sure istg)
Is the type of guy to say he'll be productive and get all his school work done before the holidays begin and ends up cramming it all in the night before the semester starts again
Turned away from religion after Nicky told him how badly he was hurt by it. He doesn't view religion as a bad thing, he just can't be a part of a group that he knows hurt Nicky so badly, also my man has seen a lot in his time
Gets along surprisingly well with Dan due to his friendship with Matt and because she often hangs out with Katelyn
Starts to understand Andrew and his perspective a lot more the more they go to therapy together, deep down he knows that all Andrew did was protect him (just like Aaron himself did)
Claims he doesn't believe in conspiracy theories and then spends hours at night researching them with Kevin
Probably had a boyfriend or two when he was younger but never mentions it to anyone because he knows they'll either a) not take him seriously or b) in Nicky's case, make a huge deal out of it
A very private person
Not in the sense that he is unknownable he just usually likes to keep everything personal to himself, nobody really knows what he's doing unless you're with him at the time
A lover of quiet. Definitely glares at people on the train/bus when they're talking really loudly and always wears headphones
Eventually sees Bee for his own sessions to help him communicate with people better, bro has zero social skills
Overall, I think Aaron is a very misunderstood character
He had a really rough childhood with no one table enough to raise him apart from his cousin he barely saw and was only a few years older then he was (and equally as traumatized)
I think that had a large impact on who he became, however you do have to consider how much he did to prove how he cares for others (e.g, dating Katelyn despite it angering Andrew, killing Dr*ke for Andrew etc)
He has so much potential
I love him so much
Definitely had twin girls with Katelyn when they grow up, a very popular hc but ugh girl dad Aaron and Andrew is the fun gay uncle
RAHHH I love this boy so much
#all for the game#aftg#andrew minyard#psu foxes#andreil#palmetto state university#neil josten#the foxhole court#aaron minyard#kevin day
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Nightshade
Chapter 17 | Chapter 19
Chapter 18: Double Double Toil And Trouble
TW: as per usual language, drinking, smoking, mention of drugs, some depictions of abuse this chapter, some gangish stuff, violence, flashbacks, a hint of suicidal tendencies, some blood, use of a slur (the F slur), Eddie's a flirty asshole but we love him, some deep conversations with Daddy Oz & a tender moment or two, costumes, fake horror (it's Halloween y'all), supportive friends that also make fun of each other, some smutty themes 👀
Enjoy the wild ride that is this chapter y'all! I edited it really quick so please ignore any mistakes I missed!
AO3 is also not working for me. I know they've been having issues all day and I'm not sure if they've fixed it or not yet, but I'll be keeping my eyes peeled and will get this chapter up there as soon as possible.
Edit: It is now up on AO3!
"-Fire burn and cauldron bubble!" Quinn wiggled her fingers in my face, dramatically cackling.
I brushed her hands away, shaking my head at her dramatics as I reminded her, "Halloween is still like four days away."
"So?" She questioned. "I'm not allowed to be in the spooky spirit?"
"You're allowed to be in whatever spirit you wanna be as long as you keep that spirit outta my face," I responded.
She put her hands up at her sides, eyes widening and brow arching. "Well damn! Somebody's grumpy today!"
I shook my head. "I'm not grumpy."
"Spill it," she urged, leaning on the hostess stand.
Normally I'd just wait her out. An easy enough thing to do, considering Quinn's impatience. Sadly, that wasn't an option when she stood inside my workplace just an hour before we were supposed to open back up for the night. So, with a careful look over my shoulder at the bar where Nicky polished glasses, and Jake began pre-slicing the garnishes, I sighed. "I'm playing nice with Simone, and she's been… Taxing today."
With a glance at the second floor, where the blonde was setting tables Quinn smirked. "Want me to hit her?"
"No!" I growled. "What part of playing nice would make you think hitting her is a good idea?"
"I never said it was a good idea," Quinn defended. "It'd be fun, though."
"It would," I whined, planting my face on the hostess stand. "It really would."
My friend gave me a pat on the back, carefully rubbing my shoulders. "What'd she do this time?"
I shrugged. "She's just… Everywhere. Helping me with my jewelry in the locker room, insisting on doing my hair, reminding me to double-check the reservations, to smile, and just everything."
"Okay, that's annoying," she agreed. "Why the fuck is she doing all that now?"
"I opened the door," I replied bitterly. It was a term Quinn, and I had used often, mostly referencing relationships with people we knew were going to be toxic as hell. Opening the door was essentially allowing someone with a reputation for turning your offered step into a mile a chance to do so again.
Quinn was notorious for chasing off men Prue had unintentionally opened the door for, while she herself opened the door to very few. Those she did open it to were usually the worst sort of people. People like Simone.
She clicked her tongue and shook her head at me. "It's been a hot minute since you opened the door. I think I'm gonna gloat."
I deserved that. The last time Quinn let an ex get away with too much, I was pretty smug about it. "Gloat away."
Her eyes narrowed. "It's no fun if you're fine with it. The least you could do is make some fuss."
"Holy shit, would you ju-"
"Lena," Simone interrupted with a polite smile. "So sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to remind you that it's the Peterson's anniversary tonight, so we'll want to show them an extra warm welcome."
Grinding my teeth through the smile, I nodded. "Thank you for reminding me. I'll make a note of it." Again. I thought, thinking about the four other times she'd reminded me.
"Excellent," Simone said, carefully lifting a hand to fix my hair before she set off toward the kitchen. Jake smiled at her as she passed, and that smile slowly extended to me.
"Jesus, look at that dumb smile," Quinn said, peering over my shoulder at Jake. "You're so fucked."
“Royally fucked.”
“He looks like he’s gonna start asking you to hang out with her for like… fun.”
I jabbed my finger in her face. “Don’t even say that!”
She rolled her eyes and slapped my hand away. “Relax, I’m sure he’ll take your polite refusal very well. It’s her I’m worried about. She’s treating you like a doll. It’s creepy.”
Olive strolled out of the kitchen as if on cue, smiling at Simone’s glare. “Yeah, well, considering the recent loss of her other plaything, I’d say it’s to be expected. After everything I said to her, I just didn't think I'd be her next target."
“It’s still working here?” Quinn asked in a seething tone as Olive made her way toward us.
“Hello,” she said, smug and self-important and very… Simone like. She looked Quinn up and down, taking in the sight of her witch attire. “Making some fun plans for Halloween?”
Quinn’s tongue was quicker and sharper than mine as she sized up the faux red-haired woman. “We already know what our plans are for Halloween.”
Olive smiled, foolishly meeting Quinn’s challenge. “Let me guess, a party at that run-down, old bar?”
"Yep.”
“Sounds interesting may-”
“You even think about showing up, and I'll tear that ugly ass red off your head faster than you can say desperate."
Olive took a moment to consider her opponent, likely thinking Quinn would be less of a threat because of her "simple" dancing background. That, of course, left out the years of fighting she'd done to survive in this city with no connections. Quinn took a step forward, that crazy gleam in her eyes and a smug smile tugging up the corners of her lips. Try it. She dared without words, but Olive heard it. She heard the crazed and wild challenge in Quinn, and with an abrupt clearing of her throat, she backed down. “I wouldn’t set foot in that bar again even if someone paid me. Besides, I have other plans."
Quinn nodded, a winning smile spreading on her lips, bearing her teeth to Olive. "I'm sure you do."
Quinn's body relaxed the second she was gone, and she nudged my shoulder. “Don’t forget we’ve got the hat drawing tonight.”
“Right,” I sighed. “What are the choices again?”
“Fuck if I know. That’s Prue’s department, remember?”
“Shit. That means we’re in for some very elaborate choices.”
She rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine!”
I gave her a look. “Says the woman that had to come up with a whole ass Sailor Moon costume in like three days.”
She nodded, chuckling at the memory. “Riiiigghhtt. We really should do costume picking earlier, shouldn’t we?”
“Probably.”
Her eyes drifted to Jake, and that sly smile returned. “If you could get your pretty bartender to dress up as something, what would it be?”
I glanced at him, focusing on that dark hair, the quickness of his hands as he sliced the lime in front of him, those deep waves of focused blue eyes… He glanced up, catching my gaze for a split second as I turned away. “Jake’s not going to dress up. He’s far too grown up for that sort of thing.”
“Would you just humor me for once?” Quinn complained. “What would you die to see him dress up as?”
“You know this answer!” I insisted, giving her that look.
She knew instantly what I meant, rolling her eyes. “Egon from Ghostbusters. I should have known.”
I shook my head, blushing slightly at the mention of my old childhood crush. “Shut up! At least my answer is simple, unlike your insane fantasy about the Scooby Doo gang."
Quinn smirked, biting her lip at the lewd thought my words brought back to her mind. She shrugged. "I'm bisexual. Sue me."
She moved past me, heading toward the bar. "Where are you going?"
"I've gotta give my girl a goodbye kiss," she replied with a dumb happy smile.
"Disgusting," I teased, watching her approach Ari, who beamed at the sight of her.
Sasha sashayed out from the main dining room, making a face at the display in front of him. "Ugh, young love. Absolutely horrifying, isn't it?"
My eyes drifted to Jake as he sent me a quick wink. "Yeah, it's the fucking worst."
*
Jake was in unusually high spirits. It was an odd feeling, the lack of weight on his chest, the ability to breathe freely for the first time in a long time. It was so odd that he sometimes caught himself holding his breath, waiting for an ache… For something to force that pressure back onto him. But then he just had to look at the beam of red hair standing at the hostess stand, and air filled his lungs again.
Lena was like a beacon, bathed in the low afternoon sunlight. She stood at the hostess stand, her shoulders holding a visible tension as she quietly worked. The stiffness Lena held whenever Simone would speak to her didn't go unnoticed. In fact, it was something that made him tense as well. Jake would always hold his breath for a few seconds, watching closely for signs either woman was bearing their breaking point with the other.
Simone was calm and polite, as she always was, and while Lena mirrored that, he could tell it was something that didn't feel as natural to her. Still, he appreciated the gesture more than she would ever know. It wasn't until Quinn strolled through the front door, dressed in a cheap witch costume, that he saw that tension lift even just a little. He couldn't hear their conversation, but it was Quinn, so he could only assume it was something mildly inappropriate.
As he worked, he caught her multiple glances, smirking at each obvious one. Jake liked her glances - liked the way his body felt beneath the crystal-like gaze of her stare. It made him feel important and desired and perhaps even a bit naked. Lena was the only person, aside from Simone, that could read him as though he were an open book. She saw every emotion and could practically read his mind all with her eyes. An addictive feeling, one he had no quarrel in chasing after.
Quinn happily made her way past the redhead, moving straight for Ari with purpose in her heeled steps. He wasn't at all surprised when she pulled the curly-haired woman into a sweet and lustful kiss. For a quick moment, Jake imagined what it would be like to kiss Lena like that. Out in the open, unafraid and uncaring of who saw them…
This thought was quickly washed away by the sound of Quinn's hand clapping on top of the bar. "You look awfully chipper today."
"I was having a very good time til you showed up," He teased.
She rolled her eyes. "Please, if anything, I've improved your day just by stopping by."
"Whatever you say."
"So, got any plans for Halloween?" She wiggles her eyebrows. "Got a costume in mind?"
Jake shook his head, continuing his work. "I don't do costumes."
Quinn acted surprised, but he could tell she wasn't. "Why not? They're so fun!"
"I'm not thirteen anymore," Jake replied with a flippant scoff.
Quinn's face hardened slightly, an offended and protective look filling her eyes with fire. "You should be more grateful. Some people don't get a chance to be thirteen." His head tilted slightly, noting her words but more so the tiny look over her shoulder at Lena. Interesting. "Anyway. I have a question for you."
"Which is?"
"What costume do you think our darling redhead would look good in this year?"
His eyes slid to Lena, taking in her form as she squabbled with Sasha. From where he stood, she looked like an angel, bathed in light, bright and glowing. "You ever see that Romeo and Juliet movie?"
Quinn's face scrunched up slightly as she chuckled. "The one with Leonardo Dicaprio?"
"Yeah." He shrugged, suddenly feeling silly. "She'd look good as Juliet. You know, from that scene where they first meet or whatever."
"The angel," she replied, looking at her friend. "A wonderful suggestion. See? I knew you'd be helpful."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Have a good day, witch."
She called, giving Ari one last kiss and a soft look. "See you tonight?"
Ari smiled wider and nodded. "Of course."
"Goodbye, servants!" Quinn hollered to the rabble, kissing Lena's cheek as she left.
Even after the door had closed, Ari was still smiling, a bright look in her eyes he hadn't seen even when she was high out of her mind. A longing, but a fulfilled-looking one. He would never admit it, but part of him felt jealous, a feeling he buried as he turned to catch another of Lena's glances.
*
I swiftly carried the plates back into the kitchen, gingerly setting them down on the table for Scott to glare at. “Table four says the chicken is dry.”
“God fucking…” He huffed, turning and tossing the food in the garbage. “Refire, two chicken!”
My eyes wandered to the station near the back, where a bright-colored bandana was still absent. “Is Isaac not here?”
Scott just shook his head, hurriedly working on the steady stream of dishes. “Said he was sick or something. I dunno. It’s been a few days, though. Have you not heard from him?”
“I called, but it just went straight to voicemail. He texted me an hour later with the same response.”
“Well, at least he’s got the sense to keep whatever he’s got out of my kitchen.”
I stared at the cook standing in my friends' normal place, focusing on the heavy pit that filled my gut. Isaac loved this job. There was nothing that could keep him away, not even a little case of the sniffles. If he was gone, for a whole week, no less, then there was something big going on. Whether that was some sickness, like he said, or something worse, I didn’t know. But, then and there, as I turned on my heel, I decided that after service, I was going to find out.
The night was long, filled with too many people that overcrowded the bar and the entryway. I triple-checked the reservation book, searching the pages for all the names of the guests that showed up claiming to have made a reservation. It was hell trying to appease them and investigate the sudden and unexplainable amount of individuals claiming to have been booked.
While I saw to the guests' comfort, Howard did some investigating. He asked who each guest spoke to when making their reservation but got multiple names of the morning hostess as well as a few prestigious servers that sometimes handled reservation calls. There was a string of phone calls made after that, asking them why they wouldn't check the books before making such reservations, but all of them claimed to have done so and found the time slots empty. There was something deeper going on, but I chose to let Howard handle it so I could focus on Isaac.
Once things started moving, they didn't stop. Everything flew by in a rush of bodies and fake pleasantries, but I hardly noticed any of it. I'd slipped to the back to text Isaac one last time. I have a hot meal from Nana to help you feel better. Can I stop by after my shift?
I expected to be kept waiting again, as all of us that had texted or called him had, but Isaac's reply was instant. That's nice, but I'm not really feeling very hungry. Best to stay away so you don't get what I've got.
That was the final straw. Isaac had been part of our group for years. He'd dated my brother, and never once in all that time did he turn away a meal from Nana or the chance at having company to help him feel better. Something was wrong. I didn't reply, opting to just show up anyway and deal with whatever he was going through when I got there.
I rushed through the last of service and hurried up to the locker room, stripping out of my lavender gown before anyone else even got upstairs. I rushed the dry cleaning bag to Howard's office along with the earrings and necklace he'd lent me. While everyone else passed to get to the locker room, I was already making my way to the front door.
Nicky noted my quick pace with a chuckle and a glass. “Slow down, Red. You move any faster, and we’ll have to replace the carpet.”
“Can’t tonight, Nick,” I replied, drawing Jake’s attention. “I got something I gotta handle.”
Jake turned, looking me up and down with tight-knit brows. “What’s goin' on?”
I shrugged. “Dunno yet. I’m gonna go check up on Isaac. It’s been like a week since anyone's seen him.”
“He lives out in Queen’s, doesn’t he?” Jake asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll come with.”
I smirked. “Yeah?”
He nodded, tossing me his jacket. “Yeah. Wait for me.”
While Jake changed, I hopped behind the bar to help Nicky clean everything up. I asked him about how things were at home and listened while the older man gushed about his daughters. He reminded me of my dad in moments like this, ones where the love he had for his family was practically pouring out of his eyes. While it was painful to linger on the memories of my dad and the hole now left in my heart his death left me with, I felt a sense of relief that Nicky’s children likely wouldn't know the horrors too many of us had.
Jake strolled out from the kitchen, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand while he held his jacket in the other. From the bar, I could hear Sasha’s taunting. “You really don’t have to come.”
“I know.”
“There any particular reason why you’re so adamant about joining me?” I asked as we walked out the front door.
“Queen’s is a sketchy neighborhood.”
“I think I can handle a few thugs,” I assured him.
Jake rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Put the jacket on. It’s cold out.”
I grinned, shoving my arms into his leather jacket. “Yes, mother. Oh, we gotta stop by Nana’s real quick.”
With a genuine smile, Jake turned down the street. “Good, she owes me a dessert.”
“Nana owes you a dessert?” I asked, tucking my hands into the warmth of his sleeves.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “She lost a bet.”
“Nana bet you?!”
With a chuckle, the bartender shrugged. “It was just over Quinn’s cake. She bet I wouldn’t find one Quinn liked, and I bet I could. Obviously, given how my shirt ended up covered in mascara stains, I won.”
I smiled up at him, watching the city lights bathe his face in that light that just made him look irresistible. “I’m kind of impressed.”
That devilish grin made my heart skip a beat as Jake replied, "That's what impresses you? Not my good looks or my bartending skill?"
"You know, I almost forgot about your superiority complex." I pinched my fingers together. "Just a little bit."
"Well, guess I'll have to dial it up then."
"Guess so," I said with a fearless grin. "Wouldn't want anyone to forget how amazing you are."
The diner was filled with people when we arrived, a bustling hub of family and food, and fun. We didn't even have a real chance to get through the door before Nana pulled us both into her arms, whispering her prayers. "Oh, my sweet children!"
I borrowed into her spiced perfume and her warmth, letting that rare and fleeting feeling of peace fill me. "How's your night going, Nana?"
She pulled away, holding both mine and Jake's cheeks. "Better now that I have seen you both. Are you staying for dinner?"
"I'm actually here to grab some soup for Isaac."
"Yes," she replied with a thoughtful hum. "Quinn told me he has been ill. I'll pack all his favorites! And you," she pointed at Jake. "I assume you'll want your dessert as well?"
Jake chuckled. "Only if it isn't too much trouble."
Waving him off with an Arabic curse, she smiled. "What do you want, sweet boy?"
"I'll let the expert decide," he deferred, gesturing to me.
"Do you have any sumac left?"
"Lemon?" She assumed correctly.
"You know me too well, Nana."
"Of course I do!" She hurried to the back, emerging with a pile of food and to-go boxes. Jake and I stepped up to the counter and helped her pack it all when she gave me a sly look. "On the topic of wants and knowing, I've meant to ask… What do you want for your birthday this year, my Habibi?"
I sighed and gave her a stiff smile. "You already know my answer, Nana."
"Hadha maratan 'ukhraa?" She sighed and stroked my cheek. "'Ant nur watastahiqu aliahtifal."
I knew the rough translation, having heard the words so many times before. You are a light, and you deserve celebrating. Ignoring the pang of guilt and sorrow, her words filled me with, I nodded to the back. "I'm gonna go say hi to Abdul."
"So I get no answer?"
Rolling my eyes, I kissed her cheek. "I gave you an answer eanzat eajuz eanida."
Nana whirled, the newspaper already rolled and raised to hit me as she shouted after me. "I am no old goat!"
Laughing to myself, I slid into the kitchen where Abdul and the other young cooks were pushed together, slaving over the food.
*
Jake watched Lena scurry away from the old woman with a smile. Nana returned the newspaper to the small holder and shook her head. "Such mischief!"
"She is quite mischievous," he replied.
"Stubborn, too," Nana added, shaking her head. "Every year, I ask what she wants for her birthday. A tradition for all of my extended children, and every year that girl tells me the same thing."
Jake leaned forward slightly. "What does she say?"
"She says: Don't fuss! I don't need anything, Nana."
With a shrug, he considered her reply. "Maybe she just doesn't want anything."
The old woman frowned and shook her head, a deep sorrow filling her eyes as she looked up at him. "No, that is not what it is."
"What is it then?"
She cursed herself quietly. "You are a smart boy, Jake. By now, it is no secret to you that our Lena's past is… It is complicated."
Looking over at the door the redhead disappeared through he nodded. "Yeah, so I've been told."
"It is no one's story to tell but hers," she insisted. "But, you will need to know that her birthday is a very painful and very joyous day."
"Patrick said it was when she got back. Where was she before?"
"An evil place," Nana said with bitter anger. With a quick shake of her head, she muttered another prayer before that anger quickly shifted to pride. "Our girl is so strong. Yet, she still feels the pain that those lost years brought. So, when she says she does not want anything… It is not what she truly feels. She wants so much but does not feel she deserves it because of what was done to her… Because of what she has done."
Jake frowned, the two refocusing on packing the food. In the silence of his own mind, the answers he had raged against the questions that lingered until the words were practically forced from him. "Who was he? The asshole that hurt her?"
Nana met his gaze of burning fire with one of her own. "A man I pray every day you will never have to meet."
*
With the food in hand, Jake and I caught a cab. The drive was quiet, filled with the smell of Nana's food and whatever clearly cheap cologne the cabbie had doused himself in. It felt awkward between us, Jake's playful mood having faded since I returned from the kitchen at Nana's. I could only assume it was because of worry about Isaac or something else that he simply didn't want to talk about at the moment. So, I swallowed my questions and shifted my focus to Isaac.
We approached the apartment with caution. It wasn’t the worst place I’d seen, but it was still very obviously run down and housing multiple gang affiliates. As I knocked, the scuff marks on Isaac’s door made my heart hammer in my chest. “Isaac! It’s Lena and Jake. We've got the food from Nana's.”
There wasn’t an answer, so I knocked again. Jake looked around, taking note of the way a few of the gang members stared at us. “Maybe he’s not home.”
From behind the door, I could hear the floor breaking with movement. With a sigh and a more gentle knock, I said, "Isaac… I don't know what's going on, but… We're here for you. All of us."
The locks clicked, and the door slowly opened, revealing my friend's black and blue swollen face. "Jesus."
A rough sob escaped Isaac's throat, pushing me into action as I stepped into his apartment and pulled him into me. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you, Isaac."
Jake stayed standing while I sat beside Isaac on his couch and held him. I could tell this wasn’t his first time handling a situation like this, but no matter how many times he’d seen such, he still didn’t know what to do. No one did. I stroked Isaac’s hair and let him cry as he tearfully attempted to apologize for lying to us all. “I’m so sorry, Lee… I-”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Isaac,” I replied instantly. “Nothing.”
He wiped his nose with his long sleeve, only highlighting the cuts on his fingers. “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
I nodded into his head and gently pulled him back to look at him. “What happened?”
“It-”
“Don’t even try to tell me it’s nothing.” I shook my head. “This is not nothing.”
Nodding solemnly, he sighed. “My ex-boyfriend recently moved back to the city and heard I was doing well. He’s a toxic narcissist, so that obviously didn’t sit well. Apparently, he took it as some sort of insult or something and tracked me down. Almost busted my door down, and then he and some of his buddies beat the shit out of me.” Tears filled his eyes, and the far-off look in them told me everything I needed to know. “They said they’d be coming back, so I just… locked the door and hoped for the best… you know?”
"Did you call Dom?"
Isaac nodded, roughly wiping his eyes. "He said he'd take care of it. I tried calling him a few days ago, but he never answered."
Stay calm, I reminded myself. Dom was a busy man. He had his business to run, other gangs to keep his eyes on, and his attention was still on making sure Tony stayed gone. He cared about Isaac, about all of us, and if he told him he was figuring it out, then he was. These simple reminders did little to keep the frustrated anger from boiling up in my chest. If Dom was too busy to fix this, I'd do it myself. "Give me a name."
"No! Lena!" Isaac gripped my hands tightly. "I don't want you to get involved."
"Isaac." I gently touched his cheek, grinding my teeth together at the way he flinched. "Give me his name. Please."
"He could hurt you," the man insisted. "I would never be able to forgive myself if he hurt you, Lena."
I smiled a gesture that barely concealed my rage. "He won't hurt me. Please. Let me help."
The room was deathly still for a moment as Isaac cried. "Aaron. Aaron Walsh. He lives a few blocks away. But… He - he's got gang protection. You'll never get near him."
I pulled my phone from my pocket. "Yes, I will."
Jake took my place on the couch, holding an ice pack out to Isaac and calmly offering him any reassurance he could think of. "Come on, I'll help you pack a bag."
The phone rang three times before a grunting voice picked up. "This better be important," I could hear a female voice in the background, moaning as she demanded to know why the hell he answered a call. "I'm in the middle of something."
"Eddie," I replied. "It's me."
"Lena!" He cheered with another grunt. "Been a while, kid."
"Yeah, yeah, pull your dick out of whatever hooker you've got tonight and meet me at Ozzy's."
The man laughed. "Bossy, bossy! I take it this isn't a social call."
I sighed, punching the bridge of my nose. "Bring Alexi and Igor."
He shushed the woman. "This is serious, then? Give me a name."
"Aaron Walsh." I looked over my shoulder at Jake as he helped Isaac pack his bag. "I want to be there."
"Is the big bad Lena coming out of her shell?" Eddie mocked before he continued in Russian, sifter than before. "You know what tonight will be. Are you sure you're up for that?"
"I'm not stupid. Get your shit and meet me at Ozzy's." I replied.
"What about him?" Eddie asked, his voice growing tense. "You know it'll be war if he sees me."
"Just do it. I'll deal with Dom."
"At your command," he said with another laugh and a thick accent as he articulated his Spanish, "See you soon."
"See you soon,” I replied back.
Isaac made a fuss over Jake carrying his bag for him but relaxed slightly at Jake’s calm levelheadedness. It was new seeing the bartender so quiet and not smug, but I assumed it was just because this was how Jake was used to handling situations like this. Despite his constant slew of complaints and asshole-ish comments, Jake cared. He cared about the people he worked with, even the ones he didn’t spend a lot of time with, like the kitchen staff - Isaac included. As we drove to Ozzy’s, Jake was nothing but gentle, making sure that the battered and beaten man sitting between us knew he was safe now and that he wasn’t alone.
Ozzy’s was now fully prepared for Halloween, with lights adorning the old brick walls and fake spiderwebs hanging over the doorway. Even the bikers all did their part in making sure their bikes were scuffed up and looking the part to help sell Ozzy’s theatrics this year. We led Isaac inside, shoving people out of the way until we reached the bar, where everyone looked up to greet us. Their smiles all fell.
Quinn and Patrick were the first ones on their feet, steadily making their way toward Isaac and enveloping him in a hug. Prue asked questions, carefully examining him to use what first aid knowledge she had to access his injuries. The restaurant staff was livid, especially the kitchen, but it was my brother's reaction that made my heart sink even lower.
Peter stood at the edge of the bar, his eyes set in teary anger as he looked at the man he’d once told me he thought he loved. Anger wasn’t something Peter felt often, but when he did… it was difficult to keep his head on his shoulders while he was in that kind of state. So, instead of moving to embrace Isaac like everyone else, Peter disappeared out the back door. Ozzy gave me a calm, reassuring hand gesture as he followed close behind him.
“What’s everyone all riled up about?” Dom’s voice boomed over the music as he and a few bikers made their way toward the bar.
Turning my head to glare at him, I sighed. “Isaac’s been beaten half to death, so everyone’s kind of worried about him.”
Dom’s face turned white as he looked at the bruises and poorly bandaged cuts that littered the kitchen boy’s skin. “Holy shit.”
“He said he called you,” I told him, carefully watching the delayed reaction and the confusion play on his face. “Do you remember that?”
“I don’t,” he answered. Guilt swam in his eyes, along with a misty look that I knew too well. “I-”
"Well shit," a deep and mischief-filled voice boomed from among the crowd. Dom's face twisted in an instant. Shit. Eddie strolled out from the crowd, two of his biggest and best fighters at his sides. He looked Dom up and down with a bitter grin. "You got even uglier than the last time I saw you."
Eddie’s short, dark hair made him look younger, while the tattoos that stained his tanned skin made him look older… more experienced. It was the shit-eating grin of his that really sealed his reputation as the biggest asshole in the world. Asshole or not, Eddie had connections and manpower. He could help me get the justice Isaac deserved. But Dom wasn’t gonna like it.
The bikers moved, surrounding them in seconds as Dom shoved away from the bar and stormed toward him. "Get the fuck out."
Eddie's smile only grew. "You gonna make me?"
"Sure, I'd love a chance to kick your ass again."
"That time doesn't count," he replied, a deep-rooted sorrow in his eyes. "We both know I was holding back."
Dom shook his head. "Last chance. Leave, or this'll get ugly."
Eddie's brows raised slightly as he put his hands in his pockets. "I didn't stop by just for shits and giggles. I was invited."
"No one here would invi-"
"I called him," I blurted out. All eyes turned to me, even Dom's. The anger was mixed with hurt now, scorching me with that look. "I called him Dom."
"Alley," he growled. "Now."
Jake stood, looking ready to deck Dom in the face. I put a hand on his arm and shook my head. "I've got this."
He took a deep breath before he nodded stiffly. "Holler if you need me."
I smiled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, tough guy, I'll be sure to scream your name.
"Promises, promises," he replied with a grin.
Dom had slammed the back door shut behind him. The uncontrolled rage was my first clue that something was off. The sight of him sluggishly pacing was the second. I shut the door behind me, drawing his attention back to me. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that Isaac needed help. And since you have apparently been too busy to answer the phone, I called someone I knew would."
"Jesus," Dom scoffed. "I said I was handling it, so it'll get handled."
Everything was off about him. The anger, the flippant attitude, not already having this whole thing dealt with… All of it pointed to one thing. "Are you high right now?"
He chuckled an entirely angry and bitter sound. "I'm a drug dealer, kid."
"Not one that uses his own product," I replied harshly. "Is this why you haven't been answering your phone? Have you just been getting fucked up all week while Isaac needed your help? What the fu-"
"God, just get off my damn ass about this, Sarah!"
The name broke both of us out of the heated exchange. Anger snuffing out like embers being doused with water. Dom's slightly bloodshot eyes grew wet as he ground his teeth together and turned away from me. I understood the pain that consumed him better than anyone. With a soft sigh and a gentle voice, I said, "I'm not her, Dom..."
"I know."
"I-"
"Don't. Don't you dare apologize," he said raggedly. "You know I hate it when you do that."
"I know."
With a grounding sigh, his back straightened. "Go. Eddie's a fucking moron… He's…" He shook his head. "He can handle this."
I nodded in agreement, carefully asking, "What about you?"
"I'll get my shit figured out."
"Promise?" I asked, almost timidly, holding out my pinky to him. A promise, but also a peace offering.
He looked at my finger, closing his own around it and shutting his eyes, letting one tear roll down his cheek. "I promise."
I carefully wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry."
A choked chuckle made his chest stutter. He held onto me for a second, squeezing me tight in a way that made it clear I wasn't the one he was hugging. Then, he gently nudged me away from him. "Go on."
Nothing I said would offer him the relief he sought. Nothing I said would bring her back. So, I turned and left, moving past the bar and to Eddie's side as he continued grinning and goading Dom's bikers on, hoping for a fight. "Big Brother all done tryin' to play puppet master?"
"Wipe that grin off your face," I replied. "Makes you look even dumber than you already are."
"Anything for you, Sweetheart."
His men stepped in front of us, acting as a wall of muscle as Jake tried to move beside me. I slapped the back of the nearest one, Alexi. "Touch him, and I'll break your fucking arm," I growled in Russian. "He's with me."
Alexi looked at Eddie, who gave Jake a curious look before he waved the men off. His dark eyes gleamed down at me with an unspoken teasing. "Hope your boy has a strong stomach. Tonight's gonna get real messy."
"We aren't killing anyone," I warned him quietly, hoping Jake wouldn't hear.
"Oh, you're no fun sober," Eddie whined as he threw his arm around my shoulder, deliberately cutting me off from Jake. "But, you know I'll do anything for you, Sweetheart."
Jake looked livid as we made our way out of Ozzy's toward the car waiting for us. I slipped beneath Eddie's arm and turned to him. "You don't have to come with me if-"
"I'm coming," he interrupted sternly as he eyed Eddie.
The man made an approving noise saying in Spanish, "We'll see how tough he really is."
"Just wait in the car!" I hissed at him, earning a pinch to my cheek as he followed my instructions. "Jake, this isn't going to be a pretty sight."
"I know that."
Touching his arm, I shook my head. "It's not like the fighting rings or boxing or even Dom's shit. This is… It's going to be a lot. I just want you to know you don't have to be there for it."
Part of me wanted to beg him not to come. What would he think of me when he saw the darkest parts come alive? Would that mild fascination his eyes shined with all the other times he saw me fight finally shift to disgust and fear? Would he finally see me the way I saw myself?
"I'm not leaving you alone with this guy," he finally said.
"Eddie's an asshole, but he wouldn't hurt me." Go home. Please.
Jake's determination didn't falter. "I'm coming with you, Lena."
I sighed. "Jake-"
"This asshole hurt Isaac," he said coldly. "And he's gonna keep doing it if we don't make him stop. I'm coming."
It was then that I finally understood Jake's intentions. He wasn't just coming with me to make sure I was safe, but because he was just as angry as I was that Isaac had to suffer through that kind of pain. More so, he thought he had to suffer alone, a thing both of us knew all too well.
I nodded. "Alright. Just…”
“Try not to get my ass kicked?” Jake asked with a hint of a smile.
I found some small comfort in his attempts to be normal about the whole thing - to act like we weren’t both on our way to kick some guy's ass with a bunch of gang members. It gave me some hint of hope that the insanity that followed me most of my life wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for Jake like it was for so many others. Maybe, when the time came, Jake would look at the darker parts of me and not be afraid. I forced myself to swallow those hopes as we climbed into Eddie’s car and settled into the fine leather seats.
Eddie was insufferable the whole drive. He asked Jake questions clearly meant to get a rise out of him, but he was at least impressed when Jake kept his composure. He was clearly unhappy with the company, but Jake didn’t let it get past a harsh scowl or a snippy comeback. And while Eddie would never admit it, I could tell he was impressed.
The car stopped in front of the alley leading to the apartment building this Aaron Walsh lived in. A group of gang boys approached, hands settled on whatever guns they had as Eddie got out of the car with a grin. “You’re gonna wanna rethink that.”
They kept up appearances as they spat at his feet. “The fuck you doin' on our turf?”
“Got some business with a buddy of yours. Aaron. It’d be in your best interest to let us get it settled without interruption.”
“You gonna kill him?” They asked, looking at one another for a minute.
“Not tonight.”
“Shame,” one of the boys replied. “Guy’s insufferable.”
The biggest of them nodded to the building. “Up the stairs. His place is B8.”
Fishing cash out of his pocket Eddie tossed it to the pavement. "Tell your boss I stopped by."
As we walked, I punched him in the shoulder as he giggled. "Stop being a moron. Mav's gonna fucking kick your ass."
"Relax, sweetheart," he purred in Spanish. "Mav likes me now."
"She does not!" I argued, using the conversation to keep from feeling the rise of anxiety in my gut as we neared the stairs.
Eddie knew, his eyes scanning my face for a moment before he sighed. "Last chance to leave before this gets ugly."
I shook my head, inhaling a deep, burning breath. "He hurt Isaac."
Leading the group up the rickety stairs, I marched across the catwalk and stood in front of the door. Bile wanted so badly to come pouring from my throat as every inch of me trembled with fear and rage. A monster fighting against the shedding of its human disguise. Eddie leaned against the doorframe, hood up and a relaxed nature to him that helped ease me as I pounded on the door.
Eddie smiled wide when it opened. "Trick or treat?"
"What the fuck?" The man asked, taking a defensive stance. In an instant, one pathetically short second, the monster broke free.
My fist collided with his throat, and he stumbled back into the apartment. Eddie laughed. "Well shit, looks like it's trick for you, pendejo."
I stepped inside first, eyes trained on the man as he scrambled to his feet and tried to swing at me. Stepping just off to the side, I let his fist collide with the wall. I grabbed his arm and shoved him back into one of the chairs at the table. His friends, people with bruised knuckles and poorly washed blood-stained clothes, all clamored around, trying and failing to get an upper hand on the sudden attack.
Eddie shot a warning into the table beside Aaron's head, and everything stopped. With a disappointed sound, he nodded to the table. "Sit down."
"I dunno who the hell you think you are-" Aaron tried to say.
"I am Eduardo," Eddie replied simply. "And you are the man that thinks it's fun to beat up ex-boyfriends."
Aaron's lips twitched into a smile as he chuckled, looking at his friends who joined in despite the two Russians towering over them. "So, the fucking fag is still lying bout me being his boyfriend or whatever? Pathetic." Setting his hand on the table, fingers marred with cuts similar to the ones Isaac had, he shrugged. "Seems there's been a misunderstanding."
The voice that echoed in the dark wasn't Eddie's or Alexi's, or Igor's. It was mine. "You like to play games?"
"What?" He replied with a laugh.
I gestured to his fingers. "Knife game?"
He shrugged again. "I play on occasion."
"More fun to make other people play, though, isn't it?" I could hardly recognize my own voice. Keeping my eyes far from Jake, still unsure of what I'd see if I looked at him, I grabbed the gun from Eddie's hand, knowing it'd be his trusty revolver.
Aaron smiled, and it was like I could see the scene Isaac had once described play in his eyes like some fucked up movie. I could picture him holding Isaac's arm down and tauntingly urging him to keep his fingers apart, or else as he moved the blade between his fingers faster and faster, cutting him deliberately. "It is pretty fun watching other people try to play a game you control the outcome of.”
"Play the game, Lena," Tony said, spinning the cylinder again.
I flinched at the mechanical sound of it whirling. Tony held the gun out to me, expecting me to take it, but I couldn't move. My body was suspended in a frozen state of shock. With an annoyed growl, he grabbed my hand and put the gun in it, lifting the barrel to my head and forcing my finger over the trigger.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Click.
"Play." Click. "The." Click. "Game." Click.
He turned the gun on himself, eyes wild as he pulled the trigger. Click. The odd mix of relief and disappointment weighed heavy on my chest as Tony's deranged laugh echoed. With a careless swing of his arm, he turned the gun on the group of housekeepers.
Rada discreetly lifted a hand, urging me to stay in my seat and not draw any more attention to myself. He pulled the trigger again.
Bang.
I emptied the bullets, making eye contact with Aaron as I put one back in and spun the cylinder. "I'm partial to Russian Roulette myself."
Behind me, I could hear Jake make some sort of commotion as I lifted the gun to my head and pulled the trigger once. Twice. Three times. Click. Click. Click. Everything felt surreal, my body acting on its own as my mind lashed out. If I squinted, Aaron looked enough like Tony that I could pretend.
Inside, I was screaming, clawing at the imagined vision of him sitting smugly in front of me. Outwardly, however, I looked calm. My hands didn't shake. My legs never wobbled. It looked like I felt nothing at all.
"Reign it in, sweetheart," Eddie reminded me, the Spanish helping pull me from the memories and the reflex that came with them. He set a warm, calming hand on my elbow. "He isn't your monster."
This wasn't my monster. My jaw clenched, but my body relaxed. This wasn't about me. This was about Isaac. Aaron took my relaxation as a sign of weakness and quickly reached out for his knife.
Bang.
His knee practically exploded in a gush of blood and a sickening sound. Worthless I loaded another bullet into the gun and spun the cylinder. The knife slid across the floor as I knelt in front of the now screaming man, pressing the now rather hot barrel into the hole I'd shot in him. "I don't want to hear another excuse or lie come out of your mouth."
"I-"
I pulled the trigger again. Eddie clicked his tongue almost in time with the guns empty one. "I wouldn't play games with her pendejo. She's shot more men than you've even tried to fuck."
"You sought out my friend, and you beat him." Those were the facts.
Again he tried to argue, "I didn't even-" Click. "Okay! Okay! Fuckin psycho bitch!"
Click. Click. I could feel him shaking beneath the gun as I picked the knife up from the floor and held it to his throat. "You leave Isaac alone for good now. If you even so much as pass him on the goddamn street, I'll come back here, and I'll slit your worthless throat."
With a pathetic whine and a quick nod, Aaron relented. A sick rush of adrenaline and pride hit me as I stood, handing the gun back to Eddie and pocketing the knife. Eddie gave me a close look for a second, focusing on the blood that I was trying to ignore. “And now?”
“Now you do what you’re good at.”
He smirked, nodding to his boys, who didn’t hesitate to follow his orders. “No permanent damage tonight, boys. Just a good old-fashioned beating like the one they gave to our boy.” He fished an old bandana out of his pocket and held it out to me. “Go get yourself cleaned up, sweetheart. We’ll be right down.”
I took it and turned, eyes locking with Jake’s. Jake. I had almost forgotten he’d come, and then the rush, any good feeling I’d gotten from what happened here tonight, was gone. The shame and guilt and fear. His face revealed nothing about what he thought, eyes closed off, and his posture stiff. I swallowed the lump in my throat and quickly made my way past him down to the corner of the alley, where I was forced to sit by the uncontrollable shaking of my legs.
What was he thinking? I wondered, steadying myself with my hands on the cool pavement. Did he finally see it? The monster I was? Jake walked calmly to my side, lowering himself to sit beside me. With an almost painful sigh, I forced the question out. “Well, what are you thinking”
"I think…" He began, and I closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever hideous word he'd chosen. "That was pretty badass."
"What?" I asked, head shooting up and eyes opening wide, practically gawking up at him.
Jake smiled, sitting beside me and gently wiping some of the blood off my hands with Eddie’s bandana. "Don't look so surprised, princess. You know I like watching you fight."
I shook my head. "That wasn't a fight. That was assault."
"Asshole had it coming after what he did to Isaac. He should consider himself lucky."
"Very lucky," Eddie's voice chimed in as he and his men joined us. "He's alive and won't have any lasting damage. Just like I promised."
I quickly stood up, wrapping my arms around him. "Thanks for showing up. I know it was the last thing you wanted to do tonight."
His strong hand rubbed my back. "On the contrary!" Pulling me off him, he swiped a thumb across my cheek, likely rubbing off some blood. "I've always got time for you, sweetheart. Sabes que."
“Still, you know I appreciate it.”
“I know.” He nodded to his car. “Let’s get outta here before Mav shows up and kicks both our asses.”
“She wouldn’t kick my ass,” I argued. “She actually likes me.”
“Whatever.” He nodded to Jake as he stood, now beside me again. “You didn’t throw up. I’m impressed.”
Jake didn’t look too pleased with Eddie’s slightly condescending tone as he shrugged. “Thanks, I guess.”
The drive back to Ozzy’s was less tense now that Eddie wasn’t actively trying to piss Jake off. They dropped us off at the front door, where Dom and the bikers were assembled, each one of them ready to fight. Eddie made a show of pulling me in for a long hug, and I could practically see his grin at Dom’s angry face. “Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart.”
“Don’t get yourself killed, asshole.”
He laughed as they drove off, and the instant I turned, Dom looked me up and down. “You alright?”
I nodded. “Yeah. You?”
With a tense look on his face, Dom just shook his head. “I’m workin’ on it.”
"So…" Jake said with a tense clearing of his throat as we slowly made our way back inside the bar. "This Eddie guy was a real asshole. How do you know him?"
I nodded as we walked. "Eddie is an asshole, probably the biggest one I've met, but he's actually pretty sweet once you get to know him."
Jake seemed to tense at my words as he stared straight ahead. "So, was he an ex or something?"
"Eddie?" I asked with an arched brow. "An ex? Hell no! I wouldn't fuck that sleaze in a million years, not even in my more adventurous days."
"Why does he call you sweetheart all the time then?"
"Cause I am a sweetheart," I teased, bumping into him until a smile appeared on his face. "Eddie's weird. He gave me that nickname years ago when I almost bit his finger off." His head turned, and I could see the glimmering interest in that story shining in his eyes. "It's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. Anyway, he runs one of the gangs. Mostly Russians but he's got a few hispanic members as well. They're the ones that set up all those fun, highly illegal fights I used to frequent."
Jake seemed to relax as he asked, "What is it with you and gangs?"
I shrugged. "I'm just so likable."
Everyone was still gathered around Isaac, who Prue had bandaged up better. Things were clearly less tense than before, but Quinn and Patrick, in particular, kept their eyes trained on the door, looking out for any sign of trouble. The two guard dogs looked relieved when Jake and I returned, both their hackles slowly lowering as they waved us over. Isaac rose carefully from his seat, and I carefully held the knife out to him. “He won’t be bothering you again.”
Though his face was swollen, I could still see the fear vanish from him as he held that stupid knife to his chest before falling into my arms.
*
Peter watched Isaac closely from the back door, not inside but not entirely outside. Ozzy had found him in the alley shortly after he departed, knowing full well Peter couldn’t just walk away when Isaac was still in such visible pain. The two sat in the alley quietly for hours before Lena returned, and the tension finally resolved among them. No one wanted to just move past what had happened, but after Isaac’s insistence, they did. Everyone but him.
Finally, Ozzy spoke. “You can’t keep this up forever.”
“Keep what up?”
“Quit that,” he scolded. “You ain’t stupid, boy. You know exactly what I mean.”
He was right. Peter knew what Ozzy was referring to… he knew he spoke of the relationship between him and Isaac. It wasn’t bad, not really. The two had slept together multiple times, dated a little, and they’d both decided not to pursue it. Such an easy breakup should be a good thing, right? But Peter wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed how reluctant Isaac was to agree to part ways. He’d noticed every single lingering glance they shared every day that followed over the years. Isaac had visited him just as much as Lena had while he was stuck in the hospital. Isaac had spent the night with him on the nights where he felt particularly weak, and he’d done it all with a loving smile and no complaint.
Isaac may have agreed to the breakup, but Peter was the one that was responsible. He’d let his fear… his sickness rob them both of something that could have been beautiful. A life.
“What if…” he didn’t even want to vocalize the words. “What if I get sick again? What if I die? I don’t wanna leave him like that, torn up over some lost love.”
Oz nodded, gently reassuring him that those concerns were valid without needing to add words to it. “That is a very difficult thing to get through. Death is always hard. But, there is something worse than losing a love… it’s realizing too late that they were the love of your life. It’s wasting all the time you could’ve had together.”
Peter sighed. “He and I… we tried this already, and it’s too complicated.”
“Life’s complicated, my boy,” Ozzy laughed. “To have someone you love along for the ride is all anyone can hope for. And you love that boy. I can see it. He loves you too, by the way.”
“He does?”
“Course he does,” the old man pinched his cheek. “You’re your father's son, after all.”
Peter felt the tears stinging his eyes as he looked at Ozzy and shook his head. “I’m scared, Dad…”
The old man’s eyes grew glossy within seconds as he held Peter’s head in his hand and nodded. “I know. Oh, I know, my beautiful boy. But, as a foolish old boxer once said: fear ain’t stronger than you are…”
“Fear’s only got the power you give it.”
Ozzy nodded. “You gotta live this life to the fullest, Peter. Live it because it’s the only one you’ve got. You know that better than anyone.”
With a firm nod, Peter felt the anger and the fear in his chest dwindle. “I love you, Dad.”
Enveloping him in a tight hug, the old man sniffled into his shoulder. “I love you too, son.”
He wiped his eyes and made himself presentable as he walked back into the bar, approaching Isaac slowly. The man’s eyes lit up, still so swollen and black and blue, but the same eyes he’d fallen in love with. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.” Even after being beaten and ridiculed, Isaac was still so trusting. He followed him out to the alley and met his gaze unflinchingly. “Is something the matter?”
“N-no…” Peter sighed. “I just wanted to apologize for leaving earlier.”
Isaac looked disappointed as he nodded. “Oh, right. Well, I forgive you.”
Silence filled the chilled night between them. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, imagining his father giving him an encouraging nod and a thumbs up. You can do this, kiddo. He could do this.
*
I was finally able to relax as the situation faded into the past where it belonged. Prue pulled a small bag out of her pocket and held it out to me and Quinn. “Time to draw costumes!”
Quinn pulled a paper out quickly, taking a quick glance at it before shoving it into her pocket. “What’d you get?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased with a smug grin.
“Fuckin bitch.” I reached over and pulled a paper out, shrugging at the neatly printed angel.
Quinn relaxed in her seat. “What’d you get?”
I answered her with my middle finger and stood up, heading out the back door to meet up with Jake in the alley. Peter and Isaac were lip-locked by the gym door, happily unaware of my presence as they lost themselves in each other. Just like old times, I wanted to tease, but instead just kept my head down and walked past them.
Jake and Whisky were relaxed on the couch when I walked through the door. Jake nodded to the door. “See your brother and Isaac on your way in?”
“Yeah,” I replied with a soft laugh as I sat beside him, scratching Whisky’s chin. “It’s good to see them back at it.”
“They looked happy.”
“I hope they are.” I snuggled into his side, exhaustion finally taking hold of me. “They deserve that.”
Jake turned to smile down at me, nudging me. “Why don’t we call it a night and get you home?”
“You haven’t even gotten to smoke yet.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, you look like you’re about to pass out.”
I groaned when he stood up. “I’m comfy, though!”
With a brilliant look in his eyes, he tapped my knee. “You’re it.”
“You fucker!” I jumped up, hurrying down the alley after him as he ran, Whisky following close on our heels.
*
Jake was sure they looked insane as they chased each other down the sidewalk, narrowly dodging people the whole way to Lena’s apartment, where she finally slapped her hand on his back and breathlessly laughed. “HA! I got you!”
“You did,” he replied, gesturing to the front door. “And I got you to your apartment.”
“How sly,” she replied, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it to him. “Here. It’s cold out.”
He held it, quietly appreciating the warmth that still lingered from her body heat. “Thanks.”
“Goodnight, Jerk.”
Rolling his eyes, he shrugged the jacket on. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
She groaned, flipping him off as she closed her apartment door. He was still laughing as a soft meowing and a gentle nudge against his leg made him stop and look down. Hemingway wove between his legs, rubbing his head lovingly on Jake’s jeans. “Hey, bud. Did you follow us all that way?”
Meow.
Jake looked around at the slightly busy street. It wasn’t like the bar. There were more cars and more loud noises that could spook the little cat. So, Jake carefully gathered him up in his arms, tucking him into his leather jacket. “Well, I can’t just leave you out here. Guess you’re coming home with me tonight.”
Carrying the surprisingly calm cat the whole way home, Jake quickly deposited him on the floor of his apartment, hanging his jacket up as Hemingway cautiously sniffed about the new space. While the small creature was hairless, Jake could still tell he had dirt built up on his skin, so he searched his bathroom for a soft soap and got a bath set up for him.
Getting Hemingway into the bath was more challenging, but thirty minutes and a soaking wet floor and shirt later, the cat was clean. Jake leaned against his counter, shirtless and eating a reheated carton of rice from the Asian restaurant downstairs. He watched the small cat fling himself between the bed and the chair before burrowing beneath the covers and settling with little paw movements that Jake couldn’t help but find adorable. He made a mental list of all the things he’d need to get in the morning to help the cat settle into his apartment, having abandoned the very thought of putting him back out on the street the second he brought him home.
Laying in bed that night with the light snores and purring of the cat buried somewhere in his bed, Jake felt more at ease, finally letting the unexpected stress that the day had brought wash away.
*
Halloween was a popular holiday in the city. New York was always crowded, but on Halloween, it was crowded and filled with costumes, horror, and kids. Hectic and crazy and kind of beautiful. Prue’s apartment was light and colorful, with plants in every corner as Will and I sat across from one another, waiting for her to finish getting dressed.
He was dressed as Fred from Scooby Doo, which meant that Prue 100% pulled Daphne this year. She emerged from the bathroom and squealed happily. The purple dress complimented her skin tone and made her smile pop. She was adorable, and it was obvious that Will agreed by the way he jumped to his feet and met her in the doorway with a smothering kiss.
I averted my eyes, quietly readjusting the small set of wings on my back as the sun began to fully vanish on the horizon. “You two look amazing.”
“You look cute!” She signed back, carefully helping fix my hair and simple white dress. “Just like Juliet in that movie.”
My eyes narrowed. “That’s pretty specific. You and Quinn wouldn’t happen to have rigged the draw… would you?”
She clapped, turning away from me to avoid any more questions. “Time to go!”
Sneaky little bitches! If they’d rigged the costume draw this year, that meant I was going to be in for a long night.
*
Jake looked at the box sitting on his bed, oddly actually considering putting the costume on and dressing up for the first year in, well, forever. He didn’t, though. It was like he told Quinn he wasn’t a kid anymore, and he sure as hell didn’t do costumes. So he put his leather jacket on and headed to the door. “Behave while I’m gone, Hem.”
The cat continued to play with the toy Jake had gotten him as he walked out the door and headed to Ozzy’s. It was no secret that Jake wasn’t a fan of Halloween, an opinion that Simone greatly influenced all through his youth. The fake scares and the cheap costumes and decorations just never appealed to him. A sign of maturity, as Simone put it. So he moved through the streets, avoiding the festivities and rolling his eyes at the sight of the pumpkins that lined every block.
Ozzy’s was the only spot he kind of liked seeing decorated. It was clear the old owner put a lot of effort and thought into it, and it certainly brought the business in. The line stretched out and around the block, and he was glad he wasn’t going to have to wait in it. Music and lively celebrations filled his ears as he hurried down the stairs and made his way to the bar where his friends were supposed to meet. Ozzy smiled from behind it, dressed as a skeleton and serving drinks with fake eyeballs in them. “Happy Hallows Eve!”
Jake chuckled. “Happy Halloween, Oz. Where’s everyone?”
“Quinn and Ari are in the booth. Sasha is running around telling people to lift his sheet, and the others are kinda scattered around.”
“Lena here yet?” He asked, ignoring the old man's grin.
Quinn’s voice echoed from behind him, clearly trying to sound like the redhead. “Of course I am!”
Turning he couldn’t help but instantly laugh at her fake red wig and very dramatic interpretation of one of Lena’s outfits. That laughing only intensified as Ari slid into the free space beside her, dressed head to toe in some of his old clothes she’d likely snagged from his locker. “Holy shit.”
“We’re hilarious, we know,” Quinn bragged.
Ari smiled, breaking character. “I’ll put these back in your locker when I’m done with them.”
“Keep em,” he insisted. “They’re old anyway.”
She and Quinn frowned as they looked at his plain clothes. “Did you not get the costume?”
He rolled his eyes. “I got it, but I told you I don’t dress up.”
Quinn made a disapproving sound and folded her arms across her chest. “Fine then, but it’s not us you’re disappointing.”
“I’m sure everyone else won’t care that I’m not dressed up.”
They both smiled as they looked behind him toward the entrance. “I dunno about that.”
He turned, heart-stopping at the sight of Lena standing at the top of the stairs. She was bathed in the lights Ozzy had set up. She was in a simple but stunning white dress with two small wings on her back and her hair delicately half-tied up. An angel. A very specific angel, he realized, turning to look at Quinn, who just nodded at him.
*
I hurried through the crowd and instantly sent Quinn a glare. Her fake red hair was practically glowing beneath the lights as she spread her arms wide and smiled. “Like my costume?”
“You look like a cheap hooker,” I replied.
“Careful,” she warned with the most smug grin I’d ever seen. “These are your clothes.”
Ari emerged from the bar, dressed in a familiar t-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket. “Holy shit.”
“I’m Jake!” She giggled happily.
“I see that.”
Quinn pulled Ari in close. “Should we make out to really sell the act?”
Ari wiggled her brows. “Yes, please!”
I moved past them, meeting Jake’s widened gaze with a hot blush rushing to my cheeks. He was in is normal clothes, not dressed up in anything festive or remotely Halloween themed, just like I’d expected. Hiding the pang of disappointment with a gesture to Quinn and Ari I cleared my throat. “Those two are quite the pair, aren’t they?”
Jake just nodded, casting his eyes down at his feet. “I gotta go.”
“What?” I asked as he made his way past me, quickly heading toward the door. “Okay then…”
The night carried on, and after an hour or two, I decided to finally stop watching the door, hoping Jake would come back. Ozzy slid me another drink as Patrick and Katie finally showed up, dressed Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family. “You look amazing!”
“So do you,” I replied, meeting her hug.
“Where’s the boy?” Patrick asked, looking around at the sea of people.
I shrugged. “He left.”
Katie frowned. “Not a fan of Halloween?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered, trying not to sound too bummed out. “He didn’t even dress up or anything, so I guess I should’ve seen it coming.”
Patrick’s lips curled into a smile as he nodded to the door. “Oh, I wouldn’t count him out just yet.”
I turned, eyes finding him in seconds as he stood above the crowd on the stairs leading in from outside. My eyes widened, jaw growing slack in awe. He was dressed head to toe in a Ghostbuster costume, Egon judging by the glasses, my childhood crush. He looked like a dork, and I fucking loved it. I…
Shaking my head, I looked at Quinn, who fixed her red wig and nodded me toward the stairs. I should have seen it coming. Of course, she would set Jake and me up in hopes we'd fuck before the bet between her and Sasha expired. As I watched Jake vanish into the crowd, my heart thundering in my chest and my body moving to find him, I realized she might've just pulled it off.
We met in the center of the crowd, bodies all dressed in various costumes, moving to the music beneath the everchanging green, orange, and purple lights. Jake looked even better close up, I quickly realized as my mouth went dry. Quinn 100℅ pulled it off. His eyes trailed down, taking in every inch of my costume while mine did the same with his. “Hey.”
He smiled, looking almost nervous. “Hey.”
“I thought you didn’t do costumes?” I gestured to him.
“Usually, I don’t,” he chuckled. “But, I figured, why the hell not?”
"You know," I started with a burning face as I moved closer and dragged my finger down the buttons of his costume. "I've always wanted to fuck a Ghostbuster."
Jake chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"
I shrugged, daring to meet his heated gaze. "That your way of saying you're not interested?"
He shook his head. "Oh, I'm interested. Always thought girls in angel costumes were sexy."
"Why's that?"
"I don't know," he replied, distracted. "But I am very interested in seeing that dress above your hips and those legs wrapped around my waist while you moan my name."
I smiled, my body shifting closer to his as if on instinct. "These wings aren't the best quality, but they'd be a good place to pull on, you know, to help bounce me." The on your dick bit of the sentence didn't need to be said aloud for Jake to catch my meaning.
His eyes shifted to them, hands grabbing a fist full of my dress. "That's a very good idea. Though, I am very tempted to just rip it all off you."
"How blasphemous." My eyes were practically glued to his lips. "Meet me in the alley?"
He opened his mouth. "Are you-"
"I'm not drunk or high or anything." I pressed my lips to his, soft and short, pulling away to whisper against them. "I want you."
His fingers traced down my spine, testingly tugging on the base of the wings. "Good, because there's nothing I want more than this."
I pulled back, lifting his head with a finger beneath his chin to correct his wandering eyes. "Don't keep me waiting."
"I wouldn't dream of it, princess."
As I slipped out the back door and practically sprinted through the gym to the alley, no one seemed to notice. I paced, heart racing and body feeling hot even in the cold air, waiting. When the door opened a minute or two later, and Jake closed it behind him, both of us just stood there and watched each other for a minute. I moved first.
My hands fisted into his costume, pulling him down to meet my ravenous lips. His hands instantly pulled my dress up, exposing my bare legs to the October air. With one hand keeping my dress up, he used the other to pull my thigh up to rest along his waist. Jake turned us both, pressing me into the rough brick wall where he pulled his lips away from mine to breathlessly order. “Take your underwear off.”
Suppressing a moan with teeth to my bottom lip, I followed his desperate command and slid the simple pair of panties down my legs, kicking them off to the side and looking up into his black eyes. “Better?” It was meant to sound smug and confident, but instead just sounded so… wrecked.
Jake’s hands slid up higher, fingers gliding along the curve of my bare ass with a nod. His hips pressed into mine, forcing a shocked moan from my lips. “Yeah, that’s better.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, burying my hands back into his shirt and pulling until the buttons popped and his chest was exposed to me.
My hands slid down his shoulders, helping him pull the material off so I could run my nails down his back. “God damn.”
Hoisting me up, Jake used the wall to help steady me as my legs wrapped around his waist, his deft fingers reaching between us to roll his thumb along my already sensitive clit. I ground down on him, the hot moans filling the air between us with fog. “Jake.” I threw my head back, opening my neck to the desperation of his mouth. “Couch. Now.”
He pushed himself back, stumbling until we both flopped onto the couch, his fingers buried inside me as my hands fumbled with the rest of his suit. My hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him in time with each lift of my hips. His mouth fell open, and a sharp gasp filled the alley as his free hand grabbed the base of my wings and started pulling, guiding me up and down. “Fuck, Lena!”
Withdrawing his fingers, his pulsing dick settled between the lips of my pussy, each movement of my hips making the tip of him catch against my clit in a way that made my legs quiver. Our lips hovered over one another, moaning and breathing into each other like it was what our lungs needed. Our dark eyes reflected one another's hunger and our desire, but deeper inside them was an unnamed thing… something so vulnerable and tender that it made the reality settle over us. This was real. This thing between us was more than sex… more than want.
Real.
“Jake,” I whispered, my hand moving between us to help guide him.
“Come on, princess,” he encouraged, roughly tugging on the straps of my dress. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
The gym door slammed against the brick. “GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ONE ANOTHER!”
Sasha’s thick accent made Jake and I freeze, but not in shock or in embarrassment. Rage, pure fucking rage, filled my lungs and Jake’s eyes. “SASHA!”
Quinn and Ari drunkenly grabbed at the Russian. “This is cheating!”
“You can’t just barge in on them!”
“This is America, lesbians! I can do whatever I want!” Sasha yelled, also drunk.
Grinding my teeth together, I moved off of Jake’s lap, ready to start punching people. Jake got himself redressed and grabbed my arms to keep me from lashing out. “Are you guys fucking serious?!” I yelled. “Our sex is not any of your business, and you absolutely have NO RIGHT barging out here when you know we’re-”
Sasha’s watch beeped. Midnight. He cheered and waved his hands in the air. “I WIN! Pay up, you vaginas! I WIN!”
“On my god!” I groaned.
Ari and Quinn fished cash out of their costumes. “You guys couldn’t have jumped on each other like two minutes earlier?”
I pointed my finger at Quinn. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
Jake and I spent the remainder of the night bitterly watching everyone else around us enjoy their night, unable to sneak off again because of Sasha’s constant and loud presence announcing to everyone that we almost did it in the alley. If he hadn’t been plastered, I would have punched him. “And I stormed into the alley and pulled them off one another!” He drunkenly proclaimed again.
I still might punch him.
When the time came to go home for the night, I got saddled with the idiots that were too hammered to handle themselves. Quinn, Ari, and Sasha. Of course. The drunken fools rushed down the sidewalk, leaving Jake and me a pissed-off horney mess behind them. The whole walk to my apartment felt like torture as I listened to my friends laugh and tease all the way to my front door. Sasha slammed into it, giggling as he turned to shush everyone else. Fucking idiots. I shook my head and turned to Jake, who looked just as pissed off as I was.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said somewhat dejectedly as I turned to go inside.
Jake's hand cupped my elbow, gently pulling me back to face him. Our lips connected, fire igniting between them as we both sank into one another. We'd kissed so many times in the past month that this shouldn't have been much different, but it was. This kiss felt the same as our first one had. Raw and too real, filled with something deeper than either of us were capable of admitting. It went beyond want or need… Beyond everything either of us had known up till now.
As we pulled away from one another, our eyes locked, the emotions in them mingling together. Wanting and not wanting. The longer we looked at one another, the more obvious it was that we both had the same realization. Jake's breath fanned across my face as he bumped my forehead with his. "Night, princess."
"Goodnight, tough guy."
*
Peter stood next to Isaac as they looked out at the dark waves from the top of the bridge. They took their time, enjoying the silence and the breeze before Isaac finally lifted his arm and threw the knife off the edge. From where Peter stood, he could almost see the anger and the pain leave Isaac. Their hands intertwined, and the two walked away together, just like they had all those years ago when Peter had stumbled on the suicidal boy with dark curls and eyes that reflected the light so beautifully.
Hand in hand, they walked away from the painful chapters both of them had been stuck in. Hand in hand, Peter and Isaac shared a look - a promise. They’d face whatever came next together.
Together.
#fic: nightshade#sweetbitter#sweetbitter jake#jake sweetbitter#sweet bitter#sweetbitter jake and oc#sweetbitter jake x oc#jake x oc#jake x lena#sweetbitter jake x lena#sweetbitter jake x oc smut#sweetbitter simone#sweetbitter ari#sweetbitter scott#sweetbitter smut#sweetbitter fanfiction#sweetbitter fandom#sweetbitter fic#sweetbitter ocs#sweetbitter oc#sweetbitter sasha
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Can i just say how much i freaking love the work you two are doing, Holly hell this is some wild stuff as veteran of hello neighbor you two are making me proud of this small community that is running on tumblr!
Also i hope you two don't mind me asking two questions.
Firstly, If one of you two had the control over welcome to ravenBrooks show what will be some things you two will change.
Secondly, What are you're thoughts on the artstyle of the show considering that Man of Action is working on the show?
Okay to start, I know I say it every time we get asks like this but y'all are genuinely so sweet and nice and it's just really really cool to see people enjoy our stuff. Like- especially fellow old fans of the franchise. I know Kaydin also really appreciates how sweet you guys are but just idk it feels like my fandom dreams come true when people like things like our au and art for this series
As for your questions...
Personally, to start, and this is Jack being slightly particularly- idk nitpicky? But there are three things I'd want to just- fix immediately and all three of them are Nicky related.
Number one, his shirt. I'm sorry guys but I've been here since the alphas and I didn't even realize this was his Sharkotron T-shirt. It's- It's just an egg
Number two, I realized after intense studying of Nicky's- face that it looks really weird when he's front facing, but his nose is facing right. So scenes like this suddenly seem- off model for no reason? I've poorly edited the image below to fix both of these
Yes I am too lazy to edit them properly, sadly. Did make his shirt logo still one colour for ease of animation. Idk why but left facing nose Nicky just looks less weird. Just me and kaydin? Maybe.
Number three- uh... that hairline is atrocious /lh
I know he wears his goggles in the show like constantly but also- this is a 13 year old boy guys. I was 13 once and I have a very flat (minus a widows peak) hairline, but it did not stop my hair from falling all over my face, and I think it's fair to assume the same for the kid who's hair refuses to behave anyway
Just fluff him up a lil (again I'm sorry these aren't better edits lol)
You don't even have to have it show when his goggles are up because like a headband or headphones it pushes hair back, or otherwise
Although ironically while I'm explaining what I would change in the designs, I don't mind the art style at all, actually I kind of love it. Sure some things you kinda of have to get used to, like their ears being pretty low to the head, but in general I think it really fits the franchise. I know it didn't look too drastically different from the pilot, but there's so many little nuances in the designs that just make it better (especially when you look at characters like Trinity)
I've told Kaydin a dozen and a half times how I think show Nicky is the franchise's second best design for him. The first being this singular piece of art from Nicky's Diaries, like I have gone on for hours about why this rendering of him is just perfect.
Third being fan renders, followed by the book artstyle, the pilot and finally games
And while other designs I wasn't sure about when watching through the show the first time, really just lore hunting instead of caring about anyone who wasn't Trinity or Nicky ngl, when I started doing my expression analysis I realized just how nice the designs and individuality of the characters are. If you put Nicky's expressions oh Enzo or Ivan's on Trinity it wouldn't fit and that's something I don't think people would expect from a Hello Neighbor cartoon.
They also have things I can just appreciate as someone who's special interest is animation (but doesn't have the patience to animate TvT gotta love audhd) for example, just having shading even in shots where they could completely go without it. It makes it less drastic and a smoother transition when lighting gets intense. They're also now afraid to switch up camera angles and push the rigs for a more intense shot.
Also something I really appreciate
Smear frames!
God I love smear frames!!! It's another one of those things that It's like- knowing how much this cost Tinybuild, they could've easily cut it down to save money. But it just wouldn't have been as nice without it.
Sure there are probably people who look at the fact that Man of Action is working on the show and are disappointed by the art style. But I say this entirely genuinely when I say I couldn't picture this show looking any other way and working as it does.
Yeah, they could've used more realistic proportions for these kids, but it works so much better when it's pushed like this when Mr. Peterson is nearly double their height. He's visibly a hulking intimidating man who could lift a middle schooler and lock them away. You fear his build which contrasts his outfit best (really feels like they took the book description of him and just pushed it, as we know he doesn't have this same stature in the games)
Plus it feels like in general, they stopped focusing on that dumb "Oh we need to hide things in every frame" which- thank God. Sure they are still hiding little details, hell I have changed a whole chunk of theory about Theodore's relationship with his son because of something I found on accident
This photo of (seemingly) 12 year old Aaron Peterson.
I'm not gonna go into it here lol because this is already long and it's supposed to be about the animation.
Are they still building mysteries and people are still crafting theories? Absolutely! Not a day goes by that I haven't been thinking about whether or not Aaron will ever be seen in the series in the present day and if he is, what he will be like mentally.
But the point is, they're focusing on crafting something GOOD over just theory fodder. Both animation and story-wise, and I can appreciate that so much.
Like- this is gonna be a really hot Jack take here so be aware.
I enjoy this franchise and it's spinoffs much more than the FNAF franchise.
Sure, Hello Neighbor one is and will always be awful. But I am 100x more likely to play Hello Neighbor 2 or Secret Neighbor than I am to play any fnaf game myself.
When I make fnaf content it is almost entirely AU based. Because the idea of getting lore super wrong since I just can't be bothered to try and figure that convoluted mess out is annoying. Why even try to solve lore if I need to read more than 10 books for a minor detail that becomes a major antagonist? We can't even get a full confirmed backstory for the main antagonist!
But with Hello Neighbor they realized that people don't want to be jumping through 50 hoops for lore. Yes we want mystery, but one we can solve without dumb contrivances and plot holes.
Do I still love FNAF? Of course. My senior quote is from William Afton ffs ("You may not recognize me at first, but I can assure you, it's still me") but one of these franchises is growing to better itself and gain more love, while the other is slowly becoming more of something I enjoy without trying to understand, and I think the Hello Neighbor animated series is- the pinnacle of this difference.
I love Welcome to Ravenbrooks. I love Hello Neighbor. I can’t wait to see what comes next from TinyBuild, and how season two will be even better than season one. (As proven by the fact that Nicky gets to yell louder in that one teaser clip alone than anyone got to in season one lol)
#welcome to raven brooks#hello neighbor welcome to raven brooks#hello neighbor#hnas#answering asks#ask response#nicky roth#seriously kinda love fluffed up Nicky though#he's so silly#also nicky's hairstyle in show matches his in book description very well to me#how it sticks up to the side no matter how much he wets it#so real as someone with fluffy hair too
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I think you handled the post about Terry Jr’s design really well! To be fair, I honestly imagined him as white when I listened to the podcast originally 😅
I think you’ve definitely got his personality down, hes on the same level of dumbassery as Nicky half the time. I don’t know why people write him as the competent one of the kiddads, he’s a substitute theatre teacher who kills monsters in his spare time but let a teenager push him “ass over teakettle” down a flight of stairs. I love him, he’s literally my favorite dad in season 2
Thank you, The new Terry design is dropping on Tuesday so I hope it's well received.
Also I totally agree! I think the Fandom has a big problem of mischaracterizing Terry which is very unfortunate because I think he's one of the characters Antony did the best job of portraying in season 2. Terry's lame! He's goofy and he tries too hard. He's off putting and kinda mean to the other kids who aren't his stepdaughter and it's REALLY funny. He stumbles over his words and stutters and is so awkward even when he's fighting Glenn to the death. He cries the most of all the dads. He had to stop and consider if closing the doodlers asshole would kill it. He has a mixed-to-negative opinion of Lark. People often portay him as the therapy friend you go to when you need to talk. Hes NOT that. He is sometimes the voice of reason and the straightman but hes mostly too caught up in his own shit to really be that for the other kiddads.
He's a mess! He's MY mess. I love him.
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Ahhh, Lestat to the rescue! Like damn, man, just take my heart and tear it in two.
What really struck me here, with this whole situation with Louis and him legitimately making an attempt on his own life, is how David and Merrick both recklessly used Louis’ grief to their own ends, leading to this horrible tragedy, and how, in the context of that, one realizes just how much Lestat always, in his own way, treated Louis and his tendency towards melancholia, with respect. Lestat always understood the danger for Louis, likely because of his experience with Nicki. He always understood how easy it would be to push Louis over the edge into suicide. I always felt Lestat’s anger towards Louis’ depression was his attempt to snap Louis out of spiraling, to push him towards a stronger will and desire to live. Because he saw in Louis the same warning signs as there had been in Nicki. Lestat never played with or used Louis’ grief for his own ends, he never treated it as a tool. He tried to pull Louis up out of it. Even the situation with Claudia was, in its way, Lestat trying to give Louis a reason to keep on, and in fact, strangely, it worked. It broke Louis out of his habit of feeding only on rats. It gave Louis a reason to live, in his desire to protect and take care of Claudia. You realize that to a greater degree when you see here how David and Merrick dealt with Louis’ sadness and depression, how reckless with it they were. How David used it as an excuse to get back in contact with Merrick and how Merrick used it, ultimately, to manipulate Louis into making her into a vampire. And the result, most tragically, was Louis making an attempt on his own life.
It feels poetic and right, then, that Lestat is the one to choose to bring Louis back into life, not to sooth any sense of guilt or remorse, the way Merrick obviously does, but in consideration for Louis’ own wishes. This isn’t a decision Lestat makes easily. I found it incredibly touching that Lestat seemed to be the only one while he, David and Merrick discussed what they should do, to consider what Louis himself would want. He hesitated, because he felt that, if Louis really did wish to remain dead, then that should be respected. It’s only when David admits that if he’d attempted to take his own life and failed, he would likely have lost his courage, reminding Lestat that it was that lack of courage that had stayed Louis’ hand before, that Lestat makes the choice to bring Louis back.
I remember Lestat saying to Louis in “Queen of the Damned” that the ghost of Claudia was just an apparition, that it wasn’t real, discouraging him from wallowing in that trap of grief. It’s after that, that Lestat takes Louis flying around the world, giving him this incredible experience and expression of love. Like he was giving Louis a reason to keep going, to keep living. That he could still find joy and happiness, somehow. When you compare that to David and Merrick yielding to Louis’ desire to call up Claudia’s ghost, and see the disastrous consequences of that, with Claudia’s spirit saying all the most horrifically cruel things one could imagine, essentially driving Louis further into despair and self-loathing, whether it was truly Claudia or not, the point remains, a person’s grief and depression should never be used to manipulate them, or for any agenda at all. It should never be played with.
Finally, Lestat’s generosity in giving Louis his blood, in telling him “Harder, yes, take it from me... Harder, more of it, take it, take all that I have to give.” and then, even after Louis is fully restored, asking him to take yet more, speaks further to Lestat’s love for him. Lestat suffered himself for something like 80 years I think in a state of serious injury and suffering, after having been nearly killed by Claudia and burnt by Louis, and then later starved and pushed from a high point by Armand. He only got better, eventually, by burying himself in the earth for 55 years. You would think being denied any kind of help himself would have left him bitter and reluctant to share his own blood to help heal anyone. But that’s the thing about Lestat that I keep saying. He’s someone who doesn’t hold onto resentments or anger. He never holds anything against anyone for very long. Whatever else you might say about Lestat, you can say with certainty that he’s a generous and, ultimately, deeply loving person.
Also, Louis completely broke my heart here. The part when he thinks he finally hears Claudia playing the harpsichord, and the birds singing, was one of the most brutally tragic moments I’ve encountered in any of these books. David’s dumb ass should’ve known right then and there that Louis wasn’t okay, and he should’ve known from that that Louis’ words about being in love with Merrick and that love supplanting his grief was a ruse too, but he let his own jealousy get in the way of seeing it. You could tell Louis was completely lost to his grief, guilt and despair in that scene when he thinks he hears Claudia and the birds, to the point of hallucinating. Ah, Louis is so horribly hurt. To think that pain in him was so selfishly taken advantage of by others makes it all the worse. I know David and Merrick didn’t mean for what happened to happen, but it did, and it was because they put themselves before Louis’ emotional well being.
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Rewatched Cinderella 1950,and now I'm imagining a Camibilly Cinderella au. Instead of two evil stepsisters, Nicky's an evil stepbrother.
That's the Disney old animated one, right? @jesstasticvoyage omg this reminds of that article last year that suggested Sam for a prince in a potential live action Disney (sometimes you find some good articles on Sam, even when they're not written by me). He did play a prince charming character, William in Snow White and the Huntsman (my beloved. If William has one fan it's me, if he has zero fans, I'm dead), which is a darker take on the fairytale and he's not there as much as he should be, imo, bc, I suspect, they had Chris Hemsworth in his early Thor days so ofc they focused on him (tbf, he is the titular huntsman). Then, and I'm the only person who will tell you this: if you close one eye and squint with the other, Philip in Pirates of the Caribbean On Stranger Tides is a near thing to a prince, though he's a priest/missionary. If you just take out his story with the mermaid, it has something in common with the little mermaid tale. (This long introduction serves no purpose other than satisfying my urge to ramble about Sam Claflin, but you enter the blog of a Sam Claflin fan at your own risk). Okay, grab a snack bc I'm really into this idea!
I’ve always liked Cinderella, my mum used to read me a lot of fairytales when I was a child. I’ve not seen the Disney version until I was about 9 (I grew up in communism so we didn’t have Disney, it all arrived after the revolution.) Personally I prefer the 2015 live action one. But the Cinderella film that is really my Cinderella is Three Wishes for Cinderella (1973), a Czech/East German production. It’s considered a Christmas film bc it features a lot of snow and it’s always shown on TV during Christmas time. Norwegians did a remake in 2021 but it didn’t seem to meet with much love. (And rightly so, it’s like remaking Princess Bride. It just should not be done.) A actress named Camila has played a Cinderella—Camila Cabello. There was a lot to like about her version, but I felt it was kinda too self aware and besides, they should have just made it gay. Ever After, otoh, is outstandingly good. (This paragraph serves no purpose other than letting me go on about Cinderella, but you enter a blog of a person who rambles a lot on your own risk.)
I think Cinderella having an evil stepbrother instead of evil stepmother and stepsisters is a good choice, it’s something new. So we imagine Camila in the Cinderella role, all the parents/step-parents dead and Nicky as the stepbrother who lords over the manor and mistreats everyone. Camila can hold her own against Nicky, but she is cautious about setting him off too much bc she is worried he will hurt people she cares about, like all the tenants that live on their grounds. Camila has always been caring towards all of them, when their children got ill, for example, she would go to this herbalist and buy herbs and made them tea, etc. Karen is the steward’s daughter and Camila’s bestie.
Daisy is a young bard who wanders the kingdoms with her lute and sings songs of princesses and knights and dragons and all that kinda stuff. She is very popular wherever she turns up.
Billy is the king, who has just ascended to the throne after the death of his father. He had a strained relationship with his father, bc he used to cheat on his mum, whom Billy was very close to. She has died too and Billy has been a somewhat bitter young man. Teddy Price is the loyal king’s advisor and a better father figure to Billy than his own dad ever was. Rod Reyes is the captain of the guards. Graham is a young knight who lives at the court and is Billy’s bestie. They go riding and hunting together. One day in the woods they meet a young lady rider, who is totally not impressed by Billy, king or no king, she is like, I should think someone in your position should have better manners, YOUR MAJESTY. Billy can’t believe the impertinence but Graham is ROFL-ing at it. The young lady rider is ofc our Camila, but Billy doesn’t know who she is. (Going with the Three Wishes and 2015 versions of Cinderella, also Kate and Anthony of Bridgerton meet cute.)
As with any Cinderella adaptation, a ball is organised where the prince king is to meet his future wife. Billy wants it done and over with, bc he supposes he needs a queen and heirs, but Teddy has a talk with him about how marriage needs to be a mutual respect and understanding, even when it comes to kings, but Billy retorts that it wasn’t like that with his parents. Teddy tells him it doesn’t have to be like that with him.
The young king’s mood is not improved by a conflict with a neighbouring kingdom. Their princess has gone missing, right under the nose of the regent, Eddie. The two kingdoms were always at loggerheads (over a piece of land or resources, pick whatever you like) and it’s only gone worse. There’s even a threat of war, but luckily their foreign affairs minister, Warren, manages to calm the matters down with his amazing diplomacy skills. He and Billy’s kingdom foreign affairs minister, Lisa, find an understanding—in more ways than one, lololol.
Billy meets Camila again in the woods, this time they’re friendlier to each other. She apologises to him for her previous behaviour, bc she really shouldn’t be like that with her king, but he says he deserved it. He asks her who she is but she rides away without telling him. Billy can’t stop thinking about her.
The day of the ball approaches. Nicky won’t hear of Camila going to the ball and locks her in her quarters. This is when the Fairy Godmother Simone enters the scene. You know the drill. Karen is coming to the ball too, bc the palace also has another ballroom for the middle classes, and that’s where Karen goes. Karen’s dad, the steward, is driving them to the palace in a carriage (not pumpkin-shaped, that’s a Disney invention. It’s normal carriage.)
The ball takes place, Camila and Billy meet there so he finally knows who she is and they dance together, yadda yadda. Midnight strikes, but they keep dancing, bc we’re adults here. Also, it turns out Simone is actually the lady who organised the ball, she was friends with the late queen, she just side hustles as a Fairy Godmother. Also that herbalist that Camila has been buying from is her gf Bernie. That’s how Simone knew Camila was good and deserved her help.
Graham takes a peak into the other ballroom, likes it better, dances with Karen and falls for her. Now, you know how much it matters to me that Karen ended up single on DJATS, but I don’t object to her and Graham together in an AU, so here you have it.
Camila explains the situation with Nicky and tells Billy she doesn’t want to abandon her people bc they need her, so she can’t marry him. Billy is determined to sort the situation out. He comes to their manor the next day and has it out with Nicky, who ends up falling head first into a horse manure and everyone sees it and laughs at him. Nicky has no choice but to leave the kingdom in disgrace. The manor then can be managed by the steward and Camila and Billy can get married.
The problems with the neighbouring kingdom don’t just go away, Lisa and Warren only managed a temporary peace. But this, too, gets solved one day when their princess returns. Sure enough, this is Daisy, who has been LARPing as a bard by way of running away from her responsibilities. But seeing king Billy mature in such a way (bc she was in his kingdom just when all of the above was happening) inspired her to get her own shit together. She says sorry to Eddie for tricking him like that, but he is just relieved that she’s home and safe. The two kingdoms sign a treaty and all is well.
Oh and also Rod came with Billy that day Billy went to Camila’s place to confront Nicky and he met Karen’s dad the steward, who is a widower, and they fell in love. Everybody’s coupled up and happy, and isn’t that what fairytales are all about?
Bonus: Actually. Not that anyone asked but. I do have an OC whose faceclaim is Sam and who is a prince. I never found a faceclaim for his love interest, but she is someone who is the type like Camila Morrone. So I just decided it's her. These character have lived in my head for a long time, though I've so far written only one short piece with them which is posted on my writing blog. Link. Maybe this ask is not the place to talk about my OC, but you enter the blog of a writer on your own risk. (Feel free to ignore!)
#answered#djats au#billy x camila#cinderella#christ almighty this thing is longer than some of my stories
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What are your favorite crimes that Armand commits?
When we talk about the vampires' many crimes, it can get sort of muddled depending on whether or not we're looking at what we would generally consider reprehensible (they murder people every night) OR if we're taking the meta standpoint of what they would consider unacceptable amongst each other. There isn't really an established moral code in vampire society until the Court is created. The Children of Darkness did have their own laws and social hierarchies and I imagine so did other covens and cults, but they existed in isolation and were not capable of enforcing them on a widespread scale. (Also, the CoD laws in practice were very much "Do as I say, not as I do." How Mafioso of them).
That said, here's my subject-to-change list in four categories:
The Controversial, Armand pushing Lestat off the tower in TVL.
There's so much going on between Lestat and Armand in TVL, and I think this scene perfectly illustrates how much they fundamentally misunderstood (and underestimated) each other at this point.
Armand was pissed Lestat destroyed his cult and then immediately abandoned him with a special needs vampire. Eleni tells Lestat that Armand "bears him [Nicki] great affection" and I don't think it's a stretch to consider that Armand did in fact mourn Nicolas's passing. Given his fresh-out-of-the-cult mindset, sometimes I wonder if Armand blamed Lestat indirectly (or directly) for this loss as well since it wasn't a burden Armand wanted or asked for.
And Lestat's somehow oblivious to all this when he has the gall to randomly show up several decades later asking Armand for his blood and Armand... well. This is definitely one of Armand's cardinal sins in fandom, and it rivets me every time.
The Tragic, Armand decapitating one of his captors in Santino's cell in TVA.
We clearly see Amadeo's psyche shatter with the Riccardo incident, but I think it's what happens right afterwards that signifies the birth of Armand and his capability for brutal violence when pushed to his limits (later in life, these limits will be very easily reached). Remember, he was very young here, only a fledgling vampire and 18 or 19 in human years.
The Practical, Armand wiping out vermin and "keeping trash away" in Merrick and PL.
Reminder that whether he's at Trinity Gate with Armand or Château de Lioncourt with Lestat, Louis de Pointe du Lac is--for all intents and purposes--a mob wife. Love that for him.
The Fun, Armand stealing a Maserati, famous art, and drug dealer booty in QotD.
Daniel Molloy was a sugar baby, no two ways about it.
#i start serious but i end silly bare with me please#if you think i'm capable of not rambling about armand you thought wrong#crime and punishment armand style#you ask and hekate answers#the vampire armand#vc
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