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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: The Royal We ch.2 (baon)

Summary: Family helps family. Sometimes right into the path of an oncoming car.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

Note: Just remember as you're reading this that all endings are eventually happy ones in 'By Any Other Name'!

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One of the first things Red set up for the newly created security department in New New Home was a phone tree for calling out in case of an emergency. The first contact called their contacts, those contacts called theirs, and so on. Slightly archaic, perhaps, but Red had his reasons, bluntly explained, “if you actually talk to ‘em, you know they got the message and it don’t get jumbled up in a buncha chat replies. no one ever has ta call more’n three people, so it don’t take long and we got a better idea of whose gonna show up.”

In this case, it worked perfectly. It hardly took more than a couple of minutes for Edge to call his contacts and within ten, Monsters were already showing up at the house.

Edge spread out a map of New New Home on the hood of his car, using a felt-tipped pen to mark off grids. Next to it was a picture of Jude taken from their own refrigerator, proudly holding up the lumpy volcano he made one weekend in one of Stretch’s impromptu science classes. So young, only six years old, still an infant when they came to the surface; he would have no memories of living underground, nothing but his entire life on the surface to look forward to.

He glanced back at the porch where Stretch was sitting with Janice, talking to her in a low, soothing murmur, her other son sitting at their feet. She’d tried to rush off again to search, but in her panicked state, Edge was more concerned that she’d end up hurting herself than finding her son. He didn’t know what Stretch told her that convinced her to stay, but then, Stretch was always good at finding the right thing to say. If she couldn’t be coaxed to sit inside, then the porch was a reasonable alternative.

The Dog family was unsurprisingly the first to arrive, their oversized SUV pulling up next to the curb. Their protective nature towards children extended far beyond their own and every member of their family was present, even the youngest pup tucked sleeping into a carrier strapped to Dogamy’s back.

Without a word, Edge held up a small jacket, one of Jude’s, brought to them by his older brother, Oscar. If he weren’t already heavily invested in finding this child, Oscar’s expression would have cemented it, his fears hidden beneath brave determination to help protect his little brother in any way he could. It stirred old memories, ones that Edge rudely shoved away as the Dogs passed the jacket around, each of them sniffing intently.

“Dogamy, you and Dogaressa start in grid one,” Edge ordered, tapping the square on the map with a gloved fingertip. “That’s the last place he was seen, see if you can pick up a scent. Greater Dog and Doggo, grid two. If you find anything, call my cell phone before you come back, all right?”

“Got it,” Dogamy growled out. His wife nodded and the two of them loped off, their kin at their heels even as more cars began arriving, other Monsters walking up to get their own search grid.

Not long after, Undyne pulled up and came to a screeching stop at the curb, struggling to get from behind the wheel of her jeep. For most of her pregnancy, she’d hardly showed, but in the past couple weeks, she’d…blossomed, was the word Alphys used, her eyes glowing with adoration behind the lenses of her glasses. Privately, Edge thought ballooned might be more fitting considering the waddle she’d recently gained as she made her way towards him.

“Whatcha got left,” Undyne pushed in next to him to examine the map. With her belly leading the way, she very nearly bounced him into the yard.

Edge recovered and returned, leaning back in. “There’s a few grids left,” Edge said. He pointed out a sector. “We started closest to where he was last seen and spiraled out.”

“Good plan,” Undyne murmured.

“If you’re thinking of taking a grid for yourself, I’d like to invite you to think again.” Edge let his gaze drop meaningfully to her swollen belly. Her t-shirt could no longer contain it and from beneath the hem an expanse of taut, deep blue skin was peeking out, paler stretch marks striping along the sides, battle scars, according to her and Edge did not doubt it.

She graced him with a shameless, needle-sharp grin and gave her exposed belly a scratch, “Like you could stop me? Nah, Al already gave me a fin-full, I’m here for support purposes only.” She leaned in again, bracing a clawed hand on the hood as she studied the marked off grids with a nod, “Looks like you’ve got it mostly covered, anyway. Kid couldn’t have gotten too far, Dogs’ll sniff him out.”

Edge glanced up at the porch again where Janice was sitting, holding a coffee mug in clenched hands. Next to her on the table was a pile of crumpled tissues, the box close by. His competent assistant was nowhere in sight, lost in her worries for her son. Edge pitched his voice low as he said, “Let’s hope so.”

At that moment, there came a burst of sound from behind them reminiscent of the false flatulence from San’s whoopy cushion. To Edge, it was annoyingly familiar, the sound of his brother’s teleportation caused by the displaced air. Stretch’s sounded more like the sharp pop from a bubble of chewing gum, and Edge did not assume that the shortcutters in their family had control of the sound it made past the fact that it made sound at all, but he couldn’t help noting sourly that it suited their personalities nonetheless.

Undyne was less accustomed to having short skeletons popping in and out around her, and she jumped, her unsteady balance almost sending her sprawling on the car hood as she swore, “Fuck me, Red, give a little warning!”

Red snorted loudly, “ya look like someone beat me to it.”

He ignored her renewed curses, crawling up on the bumper to get a view of the map, sneakers squeaking against the fiberglass while Edge grit his teeth. He still hadn’t forgiven Red for his earlier cruelty, but this wasn’t the time. “Where is Sans?”

Red shrugged, his eye lights intent on the map, “checking a few things.”

Casually said and Edge left it at that. As this world’s Judge, Sans might have some insight into possible scenarios, he always knew more than he should. Like his brother. Like Stretch.

Edge knew little about Judging, by design. He hadn’t even known his brother was one until he became Captain of the Guard and it was Asgore who advised him of what it might entail, a discussion best forgotten. Stretch never brought it up, even on the very rare occasions when he spoke of Chara. It was easy to forget the unpleasant role he was forced to play in his own world.

“this area here is clear,” Red tapped a finger on grid seven, the one near the school. Edge didn’t question him, only crossed out the square and a low, distant howl made them all look up to see Dogaressa loping towards them, her long pink tongue lolling out as she ran.

“Report,” Edge said crisply even as she panted, catching her breath.

*Scent was strong, leaving his yard, went two streets, south,* she pointed at the map and Edge circled where she indicated. *then gone.*

“Gone? How could it be gone?” Edge demanded.

Dogaressa shook her head sadly, *Bike, car, vehicle of some sort, maybe. Not enough trace to follow. We’ll keep scouting, see if we can’t pick up the trail again.*

“Thank you,” Edge said, heavily. He chose not to look at Janice; seeing the crumbling hope on her face wouldn’t help find her son any faster.

Dogaressa nodded and loped off again.

Red hopped down from the bumper. “gonna head off, too, bro, got some cameras i can check, see if we can get a bead on him.” He reached up and pointed with a sharp-tipped finger. “get someone out to grid eight.”

“That’s very far for him to have traveled.”

“not with a bike or somethin’ and there’s a kinda treehouse out there that the kiddos use.” Red lowered his voice, “if it was a car, we got other problems than a simple lost kid.”

“I know,” Edge murmured. He spared a glance at Undyne who was listening silently with her hands folded over her belly. Her expression was a thundercloud; none of them wanted to voice their suspicions aloud. Much as he wished otherwise, Monsters were not exempt from criminals in their ranks, even where children were concerned. That was one of the few areas that Edge left in the control of others. He couldn’t trust himself to face anyone who would deliberately hurt a child, his soul burned even to consider it, a coal set inside his ribcage as he struggled to rid himself of the very thought. Janice needed his cool competence, not undefined rage at someone who might very well not exist.

Next to him, Undyne visibly struggled with her own anger, cradling her belly in both hands. “Go see if you can figure out what happened to the kid, Red,” she said low, “we’re depending on you, boss.”

Red grimaced, teeth gnashing, “don’t go giving me titles now, i’m more the take-ya-to-my-leader type.” He stepped back, vanishing into the void.

There was nothing to do but continue the search until Red reported back. Edge returned to the map, considering who to send to the next grid when a tug at his elbow made him jerk, very nearly lashing out. He stifled the reaction back, forcibly tamping down the agitated LV in his soul; his frustrations and anger were not serving him well here, blast it all.

At his side, Oscar looked up at Edge without the slightest clue to his inner turmoil. He was entirely too invested in his own, twisting his hands together with bright tears glimmering his eyes. Edge crouched down, close to his height, and asked with as much gentleness as he could muster, “Oscar? What is it?”

The child mumbled something too low to be heard.

Edge glanced at Undyne and handed over the pen in a silent ask for her to take over. She nodded, already grabbing her phone, as Edge said, coaxingly, “It’s all right, Oscar, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“It’s my fault,” Oscar said, low. The tears standing out in his eyes finally shed, dripping down to wet the short fur on his face. “It’s all my fault.”

Edge exhaled slowly. “How is it your fault?”

“I yelled at him,” Oscar burst out, his voice breaking on a sob, “We were tryin’ to set up a fort and he kept knocking things over, ‘n getting in the way. I yelled at him to go away and now—”

Of course. Children were alike no matter where they were from, it seemed, so often taking on a disproportional amount of blame that no one expected them to carry. Edge slid a careful arm around his quivering shoulders and gave him a gentle little shake, “Oscar, I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?”

He nodded, sopping at his wet face with his sleeve.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is--!”

“No,” Edge said firmly. “Sometimes brothers fight, sometimes they say things they don’t mean.”

That caught Oscar’s attention. He frowned, reluctantly intrigued, or perhaps hopeful to think an adult like Edge still squabbled with his brother. “You and your brother fight?”

“Constantly,” Edge said dryly, “and as recently as today. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love him or that I wish any hurt on him. It doesn’t mean I don’t care. You didn’t mean for Jude to wander off, it is not your fault. All right? Now, go sit with your mother. She loves you both very much and she needs you right now.”

He nodded, a little less miserably and headed back to the porch where Stretch and Janice were still sitting. Janice enfolded her son into her arms the moment he was in reach and the two of them clung to each other. Stretch leaned in to say something and Janice nodded. He stood and headed towards Edge, quick strides that were nothing like his usual lazy saunter.

“babe,” Stretch said, low, “i'm gonna head off and help look.”

Edge resisted the initial, ridiculous urge to deny him. Stretch was an adult, older than him as Stretch so often liked to point out, and Edge could hardly forbid him the right to join the search groups. They were in New New Home, not out in Ebott amongst the Humans, he couldn’t play at the protector by keeping his husband under lock and key. “All right,” Edge agreed, softly. “What grid do you want?”

“none,” Stretch said. He reached over and waved a hand loosely over the map. “babe, this is the right direction for everyone else, but i'm not about to stick myself to one spot when i can be halfway across town in two steps. you,” he pointed at Edge, “stay put, rally the troops or whatever, you do not need to be tromping around on that leg.”

“I hadn't planned on it.” He did not say he’d already mentally calculated the damages vs what assistance he could provide. The possible benefits did not outweigh the costs, it was not worth losing searchers if they were forced to assist him. Before Stretch could vanish, Edge blurted out, “I love you.”

It earned him a lopsided smile in return, “love you, too.” And with a single step Stretch was gone, shortcutting away nearly silently while Edge turned back to the map and Undyne, readying the next wave of searchers.

Hours went by, various groups checking in as they finished searching their grid. As soon as their section was cleared, a person was assigned in it to stay while the others moved on.

A text came from his brother, terse information that Jude climbed on a scooter where the Dogs lost his scent, and he’d been traveling north when he disappeared from camera view. The relief that he hadn’t gotten into a car was brief and the search was redirected, grids marked off. Jeff and Antwan reported nothing, as did the Bun family, who paused only briefly to comfort their kin before heading back out in search of hers. Doggo returned, tail between his legs, to report that the scent hadn’t been found again.

The day was dragging on, the weather cooling as the sun dipped lower, but they weren’t giving up, not with a child out there lost in it.

Undyne went inside to use the bathroom twice, muttering about her abused bladder and pausing to talk with Janice and Oscar each time. On her last trip, she brought out the blanket that was usually draped over the back of the sofa, bundling the two of them in its warm folds. Her earnestly encouraging expression fell when she began walking back to Edge, replaced with more grimness with every minute that ticked past.

“There was nothing in grid twenty-five,” Papyrus said. His normal exuberance was dulled, his earlier confidence that Jude would quickly be found wavering into disbelief.

Undyne gave him a punch on the arm that nearly sent him to the ground, “Don’t you even give a hint that you’re giving up, nerd,” Undyne hissed. She jerked her head towards the house. “And sure as fuck not in front of moms back there.”

“Of course not!” Papyrus lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders, “Now I need a new grid to search!”

It was starting to get dark, the sun cresting the horizon and sending the neighborhood into dim twilight. Edge went into the garage and flipped on the outside lights, illuminating his car and the map on it.

“Edge,” Undyne leaned in, her voice pitched low, “Look, I know none of us want to think it, but we might need to look into contacting the Human Authorities.”

“Noted,” Edge said tersely.

“Humans have gotten in here before, and if one did and snatched the kid, the longer we wait, the—”

She broke off, grimacing, her shoulders hunching as her hand hovered over her belly.

Edge could only stand with his own hands hovering uncertainly even as he said, sharply, "Are you all right?"

A long moment passed, then she managed, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Don't you bullshit me, if you make me deliver your child, I will never forgive you."

Undyne gave a rough laugh, "Pal, giving you a front row seat to my shrimp salad is nowhere on my menu. Braxton Hicks contractions, been having ‘em for weeks." She took a couple of long, slow breaths, then straightened, “Now, about the Humans.”

“I have no issue with Humans, I have plenty of issues with the Human authorities,” Edge snapped. Behind him, he heard a small, alarmed sound from Janice and lowered his voice, “even if a Human somehow managed to get into New Home without being seen, snatch Jude, again without witnesses, and miraculously leave with him the same way they came in, I’m not convinced the Ebott Police would actually assist us.” Edge paused, his mouth twisting, “That said, Asgore contacted the mayor’s office already, they are aware of the situation.”

Undyne made a rude sound, “Should’ve known you were a step ahead of me.” She glanced at the porch. “I’m gonna sit with mama up there for a few, it’s getting dark, she’s worried out of her mind, and my dogs are barking the moonlight sonata.”

“Go sit,” Edge told her, softly. He watched her waddle up the sidewalk, that encouraging expression already pasted into place, then he looked out into the neighborhood. The streetlights were coming on, bright puddles of light spaced out along the road that left dark patches between them.

Flashlights were on their way, but what were the odds of their search parties finding the child in the dark when they couldn’t find him in the daylight? Edge shook the thought away, despair had no place here, they would keep searching until the child was found. No matter what.

Even as he thought it, he heard the sudden pop of teleportation, bubblegum sweet, and he turned to see Stretch tumbling out into the middle of their front yard with Jude in his arms. Both of them were filthy, their clothing stained and soiled with dried leaves clinging. One was tangled stubbornly into one of Jude’s floppy ears. Jude’s small face was awash with tears and Stretch’s pale and sweaty, as if perhaps he’d teleported them some distance and was at the end of his endurance.

Before Edge could demand answers or even move, Janice was stumbling from the porch, tripping into the grass and crawling towards her son, laughing and crying in the same breath.

Stretch handed him awkwardly over, "he's okay, mama, little cold and tired, maybe."

"Thank you," she sobbed out, clinging to her child. Jude was holding on just as tight and both of them slung an arm around Oscar when he joined them. Janice managed to pull away long enough to ask, laughing around her tears, “Where? Where was he?”

“out in old new home,” Stretch slumped back into the grass, sockets tiredly closed. “there’s some paths out there that the kids like, leftover from when they were putting up those first houses. looks like when they stopped construction, they tossed some boards over a pit and didn’t fill it in. kiddo was lucky enough to find it, huh, champ?”

Jude only clung to his mother, his sobs muffled into her shoulder. Headlights were already coming down the street, groups returning from the search. Chances were Red alerted them the child was found, and as they poured from their cars, all their expressions were ones of purest relief.

“I’ll get a team out first thing in the morning to fill it in,” Edge began, “Stretch, can you show me on the map where—”

Undyne’s voice interrupted him, soaring over the growing crowd. “Now that we found the kid, can, uh, someone take me to the hospital? Think it’s time for me to meet my rugrat in person.”

The brief silence was almost as deafening as the sudden chorus that rose up of Monsters volunteering. In the end Papyrus took her, loudly claiming his right as Best Bud. Edge only stood back, grateful that it wasn’t him, and watched as Undyne nearly punched him for trying to help her into the car. The crowd began to thin, Jeff and Antwan heading off to retrieve Alphys and the Bun family claiming Janice and her children in between profuse thank yous.

Janice paused as she walked past him, Jude in her arms and Oscar at her side. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was hoarse from crying, brimming with gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Edge told her with quiet sincerity, and when he awkwardly held his arms out, she immediately leaned into the brief embrace. As she headed towards her brother’s car, Edge called out impulsively, “You can pay me back by handling all the press briefings tomorrow!”

Her sudden laughter was a relief from the previous onslaught of tears, “That’s a deal, boss!”

The other searchers had already headed for home, happy ending achieved, and Edge turned back to their house…and saw that Stretch hadn’t stood up yet. He was still sitting in the damp grass with his skull cradled in his hands.

“Love?” Edge knelt and saw with some alarm that his sockets were tightly closed. He was trembling, his hands rattling against his skull as they shook, and the bones were bleached nearly white, the soft orange glow of magic that usually lit his joints was dim. “Rus? Are you all right?”

“help me inside?” Stretch asked, tightly.

He very nearly scooped Stretch into his arms, injured leg be damned, and right into the car to head in for a room next to Undyne’s in the hospital. Instead, Edge tamped that impulse down and did as Stretch asked. Carefully helped him to his feet and guided him to the door, pausing only to snatch up the blanket from the chair Janice had been sitting in before leading him inside.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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eboyhitoshi · 4 years

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Can you write about the reader confessing to shinsou after a date, about their past. They used to to be an underground villian and now they are in the hero course!

I’ve never thought of something like this before but I think it’s a really cool idea! Thank you for requesting love!

Also I’ve returned from the dead lmao, once again I sincerely apologize for my hiatus, and I’m super thankful for y’all for being so patient with me!

Regrets // Hitoshi Shinsou

Master List

Warnings: Swearing, crying

Summary: Shinsou finally learns of his girlfriend’s past

Rating: Mostly angsty, kinda fluffy at the end

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader

“I had a really nice time tonight” Hitoshi’s voice said softly, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand as you made your way back to the dorms. You smiled over at him, nodding in agreement.

“Me too” you replied, putting your free hand on his bicep as you walked down the sidewalk. Biting your lip while staring at the ground, you debated if right now would be a good time to tell him.

Hitoshi has been the best boyfriend ever since you got together in your first year right after the sports festival. When he got moved into your class in second year you were elated and it allowed you to get even closer. But now it was third year and the secret you’ve been keeping from him for about two years was fighting your willpower to tear its way out of your mouth. You felt horrible about keeping a secret from him for so long, but you never knew how he was going to react and you didn’t want it to tear him away from you.

You turned your head to look up at him. He looked so at ease, glancing around the streets at cars passing by. You hated to break his mood but you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Hitoshi” you mumbled as you stopped walking, his continued step forward made you pull his arm slightly so he stopped. He turned to face you with a concerned look on his face.

“Is something wrong babe? You look like you feel sick” he said, bringing a hand up to be placed on your cold cheek. You swallowed hard, staring into his violet eyes as your own (e/c) ones started to tear up. His other hand found your other cheek and his thumbs immediately started rubbing soft circles on them. “What happened kitten?”

“‘Toshi, there’s something I need to tell you” your voice was barely there, and the threat of it breaking loomed ominously. You cleared your throat slightly as he looked at you expectantly. “I understand that if after I tell you this, you don’t want to be with me anymore”

“Woah babe, did you cheat on me or something?” He asked with a small laugh but you could tell he wasn’t fully convinced you hadn’t.

“No! God no, I’d never” you reassured and he nodded. He let out a small breath of relief but stayed silent for you to continue. “I just” you let out a huff while glancing away from him. The cold nipped at your cheeks as you brought his hands down to be held in your own. “You know how I said I don’t have any immediate family left alive? Well that wasn’t true” his eyebrows knitted together confusedly. “My older brother is still alive, and I know you’d know his name if I said it. The only reason I’m alive is because I wasn’t home when his quirk manifested and killed our whole family. I was away, staying with a distant relative, and when I came back he’d figured out his quirk so I didn’t get hurt by him” you started explaining slowly. Hitoshi was nodded along slowly, trying to comprehend everything you were saying as you said it.

“From then on it was just him and I, until this man came along and took us under his wing. It was an interesting time to say the least. When my brother eventually formed his, business-“ you furrowed you’re eyebrows slightly, careful when choosing your words. “I helped him out a bit. I came to UA, observed teachers and students and all the activity around, and reported back to him.” a few hot tears ran down your face, contrasting the cold temperatures surrounding you.

“Wait so you’re saying-“ he let go of your hands and took a step back. He brought a hand to his hair and stared down the busy street. “It was you, you were the traitor?” He asked softly, disbelief coating his tone. The tears streamed harder and faster now as you nodded sadly.

“But I never meant for anyone to get hurt, I swear I didn’t know what he was gonna do. As soon as I saw what I caused I cut off ties with him” you added.

“You were behind the USJ, and the camp thing where Bakugou got kidnapped, you’re the reason Aizawa has that huge scar on his face” he listed, his eyes filling slowly with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but you knew wasn’t good.

“I didn’t want them hurt, I promise Hitoshi! I didn’t realize what I was doing. But now I do! I changed, I stopped talking to Tenko altogether, I don’t want anything to do with villains ever again” you cried. You stated at your feet, ashamed at yourself and your past actions. Hitoshi was silent. He hadn’t moved from beforehand, and it didn’t seem like he was going to for a minute or two. “I’m sorry” you whispered, your fists clutched at the hem of your jacket tightly. So tight that your knuckles turned white, despite how cold your hands were.

“How could you not realize what you were doing after the USJ? Why would you keep going after that if you didn’t want anyone hurt?!” He accused, talking with his hands. You paused for a moment, staring up into his now anger clouded eyes as he continued. “How couldn’t you see what he was doing after that? Your teacher was in a full body cast for god’s sake!” He yelled. The two of you were starting to catch the attention of passerby’s but no one stopped to intervene.

“Hitoshi I-“ you started but seeing the tears starting to well in his eyes made your heart break. Your tears involuntarily started to flow harder and you started choking up.

“Well (Y/n)?!” His voice cracked as he shouted, impatiently awaiting your answer.

“I-I” you stuttered. “I honestly don’t know, ok? I don’t know why I kept doing it. A loyalty to the only family I have left alive and the only father figure I’ve ever had maybe? I guess my head just shut out the fact that I did let my friends get hurt in the process” you sobbed sadly, putting your head in your hands. “I regret everything I did, and everyone I’ve hurt. If I could take it all back, take away all their pain, all their suffering and hurt, and scars and PTSD from everything I caused I’d do it in a heartbeat. Even if it cost my life Hitoshi, I’d do it” you cried. Though you couldn’t see it his mouth was open slightly in shock. He didn’t know what to say. “Maybe that’d work, maybe I should just go. Everyone else would be better off” you thought out loud, sniffling as you brought your arms down to your sides. “I’m sorry Hitoshi, I love you” you whispered, slowly starting your way back to the dorms.

You felt a hand grab your wrist after you’d taken a few steps. You turned and saw Hitoshi looking down at you, a few stray tears falling down his slightly pink cheeks.

“(Y/n) wait” he said quietly. “Just because I may be upset at you for this, doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. Please don’t go, don’t make any rash decisions right now either please. I can see you regret what you did, and I know I can’t exactly forgive you right off the bat but, I can try” he whispered. “Don’t go, it’d just make everyone sad and I wouldn’t be able to stand not seeing you”

“Even though you’re upset with me?” You mumbled, looking up at him slowly.

“Like I said, just because I’m upset doesn’t mean that I don’t love you” he replied, placing a short kiss on your head.

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mccarricks · 3 years

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( brittany o’grady / demi woman ) WESLEY McCARRICK is 23 years old and is a SENIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in FILM and is known for being THE MAVERICK as THEY can be HUMOROUS and OPEN-MINDED as well as DITZY and IMPULSIVE. every time i see HER/THEM, THEY remind me of PURPLE SKY IN THE DESERT, SKATING AS FAST AS YOU CAN TO FEEL THE WIND ON YOU, A JOKE TOLD WITH A TOOTHY GRIN.

hero’s back w character no. 2 and yet......

full name: wesley ‘wes’ elaine mccarrick

birthdate: february 2, 1997

age: 23

gender: demi woman

pronouns: she/her/they/them

zodiac: aquarius

nationality: american

ethnicity: black (louisiana creole) and white (irish)

hometown: santa fe, nm

languages: english, intermediate spanish

family:

theodore mccarrick, father

elaine barlow, mother

ruby mccarrick, older brother

delphine mccarrick, older sister

sherri barlow, maternal grandmother

many cousins

orientation: bisexual biromantic, pref. towards women/nb people but will date men

religion: agnostic

height: 5 ft 4 in

distinguishing features: eyebrows, hair, lips

character inspo: ilana wexler (broad city), harley quinn (dc comics), phoebe buffay (friends), prob more

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

TRIGGERS: divorce, mentions of crime, drug and alcohol use

the youngest child of ted and elaine mccarrick, wes was a kid who is full of life. she’s the kind of kid who did things to make you smile, and it usually worked. she was warm and inviting, a little naive, but she had a strong support system.

her parents divorce when she’s six, she doesn’t quite understand it but her dad moves out, and her grandma and multiple cousins move in. it’s a lively household, between her mom, who works as a nurse, and her siblings, and her cousins, it was never really quiet and there was never a lot of room.

despite the split, her parents maintain that their children have a relationship with both of them, and truthfully, wes is a daddy’s girl. she and her dad were cut from the same cloth, happy go lucky, fun loving, a bit silly, he’s the one who introduces her to movies. it’s their thing, watching and critiquing them together, and it’s not whatever is in theatres either. they went for all times of filmmaking, new wave, surrealist, and more.

it really stuck with wes, who herself had begun making movies, mostly horror/fantasy/scifi stuff with her friends-- she writes and directs and occasionally, she’ll don a costume and star in them. they’re silly little things, but her family always sat down for her “premieres.”

her formative years are marked with plenty of things, sports, deaths of distant family members, a cousin or two who gets caught in the wrong crowd and ends up in jail, and throughout this, wes remains a rock for her family.

she’s in high school, and she gets into the eclectic crowd, the outcasts, the weirdos, the ones who smoked under the bridge, and partied out in an abandoned trailer near the desert. these freaks were her freaks. they accepted her with open arms, as she them.

she chooses thales because she always wants to see the east coast, and frankly, as much as she loves her family, she wants to be free of them. and they have a fantastic film program. so!

she meets steven in their first film class together, and they’re fast friends, despite her usual weariness of YET another film bro, steven proves to be a good egg. so she thinks. she finds out through him talking that he might not be the most faithful to his girlfriend, and as much as she doesn’t like meddling, she thinks it’s only right to let clarissa, who she doesn’t really know well, know. however, before there’s a chance, everything happens-- now she’s stuck wondering if she should reveal the truth, or let sleeping dogs lie.

nana is different, nana and her dated her sophomore year, nana’s freshman year. it wasn’t serious. but they were fond of each other. they eventually break up, but they stay friendly, waving to each other in the halls, chatting at parties.

both the disappearance and the murder is weird for wes, who by all accounts, isn’t great at dealing with bad shit. she prefers to laugh about things. laugh about everything. because if she doesn’t laugh, she’ll cry.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

wes is a mess, a free-spirit, a walking contradiction. she’s very independent minded, the kind of person who does things without thinking so much about the consequences, this leads her into trouble sometimes. like nicking something from a convenience store, or stealing a stop sign as a prank. she’s definitely the kind to goof off and not exactly dedicate her full attention to something. and while she’s in genuinely good spirits on most occasions, she has a staunch ‘no asshole’ policy. the type to defend the underdogs, and go after bullies. she’ll punch you with a smile on her face, and yet it ends up being more unnerving than you realize. she’s a bit of a ditz, as well, never the best at school, but can talk your ear off about the going ons of the world. she’s a lovable dumbass, for sure, and loyal to a tee once you get her as a friend.

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

horror movie fan! her favorites are some of the oldies, like dracula and the bride of frankenstein! and some new ones! big fan of jordan peele’s work, as well as ari aster’s! but mostly really advocates for women directors and directors of color!

also does roller derby! she picked this up her first year at thales and fell in love with it, i can’t think of a name for her yet, but she’s a blocker, won’t hesitate to elbow some dick at the bar

kinda a tomboy? she’s always been! she’s rough and tumble and not afraid to get down and dirty with someone, i.e. will join those football games on the quad or crawl through the mud for a scene to shoot

doesn’t know if she wants to be a director/writer or a cinematographer honestly.... she loves the technical aspects of film as much as the making the stories

definition of a bruh girl, says it a whole lot, but also just if you tell her you love her, she’ll just roll her eyes and be like you’re an idiot (which means she loves you too) she’ll be affectionate if she’s close to you

kinda a wh*re oops....... texts multiple girls at a time and doesn’t want to hurt any of their feelings she doesn’t know how she keeps ending up in these situations... also a bisexual disaster

a stoner as well..... always has a massive jar of weed

unclear whether she lives on campus or off campus but if she does live off campus she has a pet turtle named elsa lanchester after the bride of frankenstein actress

a drummer! she’s in a band (name tbd) she started drumming at a young age and found it was a good way to manage her aggression

doesn’t really do well with emotions, so she’ll either be like there, there, or try to make jokes.... she really said kids can you lighten up

walking meme... such a walking meme... doesn’t know so many things she’s like a cute puppy with no thoughts head empty but she’s so fun to be around

life of the party.... nana she came fr ur spot and she took it and she’s not sorry but she does miss u a lot

doesn’t rly feel like she’s allowed to be upset anyways bc some people have it...... way worse.... can u say Imposter syndrome

kind of an enabler...... will be that person to push u to try things but not in a peer pressurey way, more like if u are unsure abt sending a text she says do it

wears fun earrings and socks! think lollipops or gummy bears or found objects like she collects that shit it’s her lifeline

boxes! she’s been boxing since she was abt 12, courtesy of her older brother (who is now a doctor thx ruby) and it’s a good way to exercise and release stress

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

best friend -- two of a feather, cut from the same cloth, or complete opposites it doesnt matter to her (the abbi to her ilana)

roller derby friends -- she’s p close to the team, margs on her

makeup artist pal -- i think it would be neat fr someone to try and teach her makeup whether its normal or sfx bc she wants to look like a monster or smthn

she’s gullible, u take advantage of that -- u just tell her lies p much and she’s like yeah ok that sounds right

party friends

classmates

fwbs (f/m/nb) -- tbh she might have one or two of these but they literally are the def of pals who bone sometimes... like v good abt being like you good? u dont want more? cool me too

exes (f/m/nb) -- mostly dated women or nb people but def cld have had a guy

she smokes you out -- p much the only reason u hang out w her is bc she has good weed

someone she’s fought -- like fully decked in the face, prob said something that rubbed her the wrong way and it just devolved from there

people who dislike her -- she could definitely be seen as annoying bc shes loud and dorky and funny so ??

breaks someone out of their shell -- p self explanatory, pushes them to have fun, w everything happening shes rly like lifes too short to not take the opportunities around u

cousins! probably on her dad’s side! i figure she has some east coast fam

anything? truly?

#pyrrhic.intro #intro.#divorce tw #crime mention #drug use tw #alcohol use tw #i pulled this out of my ass

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hypnotica-ships · 3 years

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how abouuuuut... 1,3 and 4 too?

Oh boy, this got suuuuuuuuuper long, but I’ve been holding a lot of this in, and I didn’t even get to mention the crow raisings...I’ve tried to keep this short and skipped a ton of things, so if you want some more info about anything, let me know, I”d be more than happy to answer! The last two questions will be under the cut, cause wow, can I talk....

1. What is your s/i's name & pronouns? Legally- Mathew E. Sionis However, only a few very close people know it, and even then they all still call him Crow. Even when he still had his deadname. No one but him and his father know what the "E." stands for. Also he goes by He/Him and They/Them. Mostly the first set though.

3. Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it? Oh boy, do I. It's fairly messy, and you need to keep in mind that the first media I inserted myself into was DC Comics, plus I was 15 and never knew about the whole Self-Shipping Community until like last year, thanks btw. It gets dark and some spots, my bad, blame 15 year old edgelord Crow.

Let's start at the beginning yeah? Crow was born the second child to Circe, not much is know about her, and Roman Sionis who at the time had just started to make his name big in the underground crime scene, in Gotham City. She had an older brother and a younger brother, each sibling was born with some darker magic powers, but showed no sign of it at the time they were in his care. After Crow's younger brother was born (both siblings have names, but I'm a bit shy about saying who each one is, but as we'll see later, they don't really get along anyways...), their mother died. Which sent Roman into a bit of a spiral, he became incredibly paranoid. He thought the only way to save his children (who are all a year apart, so the oldest is about 2 and a half to three) was to kill them, but he had a hard time doing it directly after what he did to the older brother.... So he sent the other babies away in basket down a stream hope that would solve the problem. There was a fork in the stream, one child went one way while the other one went another. Crow's way went into a run off into a sewer, not just any sewer, (oh boy...here we go...) the Arkham Asylum sewer, where a big ole' Mr. Killer Croc found what he thought was a dead child. Once he realized the child was still alive, he tried his best to get one of the orderlies of the Asylum's attention. They....had no idea what to do, so (even though I"m pretty sure they probably would of sent the child to an orphanage...) they decided to have the inmates, with constant security around, raise the child (15 year old me had some ideas....to bad i never changed this...).

Yadda yadda yadda, time skip, Crow now has realized she has shadomancy powers and just basic magic as well, but no clue how to use em, so they 'wing it', they also have a pretty good gig at stealing things, since she can travel through the shadows real sneaky like. She finds out at some point who her dad is, and the younger brother, Crow is furious, and vows to never speak to her father ever again, but he insists on buying her love and gives her an "allowance" of like a billion a month, but she refuses to keep it all and only saves enough to live on while the rest gets sent to charity. She's about 13 at this point and has bought out an old hotel to live in that was ment to be torn down, so it's basically falling apart except for one room and the roof. Safe enough to live in though. Yadda yadda, still the same age, she meets Lonnie while looking for one of her pet crows that went into his cell at juvie, stuff happens they become friends, he finds out about her living situation, tells his folks, and now they basically adopted her. Crow and Lonnie cause trouble for a few years as a fucking awesome team. When they are around 16 or so, Jamm just shows up, and he needs a place to stay, and at this point Crow's hotel is fixed up a bit more thanks to help from Lonnie. So they let him stay in an extra room.

He now forever part of this group.

They make a band, The Nest, but it's kind of a cover up for vigilantism. At this point, since I like to keep things as cannon as possible, Lonnie fakes his death, which cause Crow to spiral, similar to how her father did when he lost her mother. It's sad and depressing time, lot of plot points, but I'll try to sum it up: Drinking problems, lots of failed relationships good and bad, possible murder, the older brother comes back and explains some stuff he may also be Satan, Crow and Jamm bonding time, and ect.

I dunno, about 18-ish now or whatever, I really don’t have the best concept of time, Crow dates Jimmy, thanks to some old connections with Lois who set them up, it goes pretty well, Crow is healing. She's not fully healed though, and Jimmy recommends getting out of Gotham since it seems to make things worse and she needs a vacation. Cool, she'll just move to Metropolis where Jimmy lives, nah, doesn't last long, but she does take a trip to Washington D.C. Crow sees a figure on the roof tops lurking around on her trip. One rainy night she confronts it, whoops, Lonnie is still alive! They end up fighting about him not telling her for a few months or so, until he finally says he's sorry. Crow and Jimmy adventures happen, (such as Crow finding out about her Uncle Guile and meets Holger and Marnie, which leads into like a year long hijinks, one relationship that ended in an uncertain way, and now Crow goes back home but has a distant little sibling now, they call and text each other now and again, even go out to lunch), but Crow is still not happy, and Jimmy takes note. Stuff happens, and he proposes.....Crow says no. She realized that she.....probably should of been a he. Crow with this knowledge dumps Jimmy, he takes it well and understands, but Crow still feels bad about it.

After, Crow moves back to Gotham, he talks to Lonnie about going about transitioning. He helps Crow with the whole process, killing whatever ill will was left form the faking death for years bit.

Crow's about 19-20 now, dates Jimmy again, he takes him to meet his cousin Archie in Riverdale. As he visits, he notices a kid and his dad. Said dad is....abusive....and Crow takes note. Stuff happens, Crow and Jimmy breakup again, but Crow moves to Riverdale, cause he needed a change and felt happy there. He remembers the dad and kid, and confronts them, big mess happens, and now Crow has an adopted son, Reggie (who's about 16). Tiny time skip, more garbage happens and then a dying bloodied kid shows up on Crow's doorstep, after helping him and saving his life he asks about the kids family, stuff happens, and now he has kid x2, Julian (also 16, but like 5 months older then Reggie, who hates that.) Stuff happens. Crow is happy with his family and the occasional visits from Uncle Lonnie and Uncle Jamm really help keep Crow sane, (a lot of trauma, a lot of mental issues here, same s/i, same) things are about to get a lot more interesting when the band Reggie is in is asked to open for Josie and the Pussycats....

4. How did your s/i feel when they first met your f/o(s)? How do they feel about them now? I decided to kinda make this a continuation of 3.

Crow was hanging out backstage of his son's performance, checking out the food and making himself a little serving even though the sign said "For band members only!". All of a sudden, a guy in a blue suit, sunglasses and a smug aura about him, slid up next to him. Crow immediately did not trust this man.

Dude asked if Crow was THEE Crow from the Nest, mentioned he was a fan, and wondered what they were up to since they went silent a few years ago. Crow answered as nice as he could, against his better judgement. This guy, Alexander, had the gull to offer him a contract to manage The Nest to "give them a second chance..." The Nest need not a second chance, if they wanted to go big, they would of years ago without this clown’s help.

Yadda yadda yadda, Alex doesn't stop pushing, and Crow ends up becoming a sort of mentor to the Pussycats, while also helping them keep their manager at bay, aka a distraction. Crow and Alex somehow become friends after he realizes that Alex was super lonely growing up and at this point Crow might be his only friend besides the Pussycats (who pay him/he pays them). They get quite close, and Crow, even though he hates that he let this happen, kinda has a major soft spot for this dork.

It took them over a year or so to finally tell each other that though. Not my fault they needed to go through a bunch of agnst/yearning adventures....

Sorry this got super long, but oh boy, did it feel good to finally get this off my chest. I clearly skipped a ton to keep this "short", but that doesn't mean I don't have those ideas fully fleshed out. So if in any point in the future you want me to elaborate, I"d be more than happy too! Thanks for the ask, and sorry to bombard you with a huge wall of text. <3

#asks #holey moley #sorry its so much #...and not even everything...#but this was a short as i could go #hope you make some sense out of this ramble #<3 #s/i info

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91daze · 4 years

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The fluffiest Frate headcanons you can write 🅱️lease i’m desperate (Also more Volpe i’m begging you) tysm 😭

wowee!! third request!! (technically fourth request if u count volpe)

like with the angelo req, i wasnt sure if u meant individual fluff headcanons or relationship fluff headcanons, so i did the liberty of doing both. this is also the first part to this request (volpe’s must be done in a seperate post because of how long this one is). enjoy~

this has a bit of angst sprinkled in. frate’s an angst magnet tbh

( frate vanetti - fluff headcanons. )

( individual. )

vincent’s been a distant father to him ever since he was a kid, so personally, i think frate’s a big mama’s boy.

he and nero used to fight a lot for connie vanetti’s attention—usually nero would do a magic trick and frate would counter with all the lessons he had learned lately with his tutor (unlike vincent though, connie never played favorites with her children; she loved to say that she was equally proud of all of them. vincent would reprimand her on being “too soft” on them, but she never stopped).

even though nero and frate had their fair share of squabbles even as children, frate had always idolized his brother. nero’s just so cool! so strong! so smart! at some point, young frate had even stated that he wanted to be like his big brother when he grew up (which all went to shit at some point, but because these are fluff headcanons, we’ll be saving this story for another time).

unlike with nero, frate’s bond with fio never broke; it had been her who took care of him post-connie’s death, and she never really stopped looking after him (which, as we all know, lead to the death of ronald). he will never admit it, but he’s always been attached to fio and truly wished the best for her (which is partly why he wanted her to marry ronald; he believed he was the best for her).

he was actually a sucker for hugs; it had been ages since he’d received one. he secretly believed nero gave the nicest hugs, though he never admitted that.

as a child, frate was a HUGE bookworm. connie had these old, battered storybooks of italian fairytales and legends and she read them to them at bedtime. soon enough, he was able to read them on his own (but when she was healthy, connie still insisted on reading to him before bed). eventually, though, the roles reversed and he was the one reading the stories to her, when her health was waning and she had to be confined in bed. the storybooks remained in his possession after her death, and he kept them tucked away behind his dusty encyclopedias in his bookshelf. he hardly ever brought them out because he was afraid he would get ridiculed (mostly by ronald), but everytime he needed to relieve stress, he turned to those books.

in addition to those books, frate had a soft white plush rabbit, similar to the velveteen rabbit. he had it ever since he was a baby and clutched at it until he reached his teens. however, he never disposed of it and kept it away, again, in his shelf.

he was actually an avid daydreamer. his imagination, as a child, was vast, and he usually had fantasies of becoming a valiant knight (like big brother nero and big brother vanno!) or being the prince of his own castle. he started to dismiss these thoughts once he grew older, though there had been moments where he caught himself daydreaming; not his childhood dreams of wanting to be a knight or a prince, but instead, dreams of a simpler time, when connie was still alive and his relationship with nero wasn’t so strained…

( relationship. )

out of all of the characters, i’d say frate is one of the most touch-starved. his family wasn’t exactly the most affectionate when the situations changed (except fio, though once she got married, he saw less and less of her), and no matter how much he admired ronald, he wasn’t exactly a warm and caring man. so show him your affection (gradually though, as he would be guarded towards it at first) and he’d eventually melt into it.

no matter how arrogant he tries to present himself at first, he’s weak to all kinds of flirting and affection. give him a kiss and he’s putty in your hands.

he’s kinda insecure about his freckles (he thinks they make him look too childish), so any compliments about them or affection doted on them make him go weak in the knees.

he actually loves showing affection to his partner. he won’t be outright with it, but there will be moments where he’ll just slip his arms around you or sneak in a kiss.

he equally loves receiving affection too; in public, he won’t be as susceptible to it (or so he likes to pretend), but he’s pretty open to it in private. he especially loves kisses or laying his head on his partner’s lap, so take note of that too!

despite not being as open to affection in public, he’s not opposed to pda. not the overboard, mushy kind, but the subtle kind where he’d sneak a kiss on your cheek or intertwine your fingers together. it’s both a discreet way of showing his love for you and a way of showing others that yes, you’re taken, and yes, they should back off.

his love language is gifts. he especially loves giving romantic, expensive gifts to his partner, so he’d probably gift you the pretty diamond necklace you admired while window-shopping…or a box of pure chocolate truffles…or a splendid bouquet of red roses. only the best for the best, after all.

he also loves doting on his partner with fancy dates, so don’t be surprised when he takes you to an expensive restaurant for dinner and to an elegant hotel for dancing.

keep in mind he’s a son of one of the most prominent families in lawless, so you’ll be quite featured for a bit once you’re seen with him. he doesn’t mind it, he wants others to see that his beautiful partner belongs with him only, but if it bothers you, then he’ll demand for them to back off.

this was a fun request! i love frate ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you for requesting!!

#( frate v. )#( fluff. )#( long post. )#( headcanons. )#frate vanetti #91 days #this is the longest post i have so far #my frate favoritism JUMPED OUT

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chibikinesis · 4 years

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Can I get some trivia regarding Theo and Wes? :D What brought them together, etc? (I love both of them sm)

Okay, this got stuuuuuupid long, and either I’m sorry, or you’re welcome depending on how much meat you wanted on the bone? 😂 I’ll put everything after the first few paragraphs under a read more because this wound up being like a 2 and a half page google doc asdfasdf

And it’s 2AM so some of this might be a little incoherent too so bear with me lmao

Wes has been close friends with Theo's younger sister for most of their lives. But even back then, after Zoey was born, she and Theo's parents often put her needs first. Their father moreso, and it didn't stop Theo from growing pretty attached to his mother. From a fairly young age, though, he started to sort of shut himself off to people because of it. He never got quite the amount of emotional development and support that he deserved from his father especially. When he was young, for a short stint, he used to be resentful towards Zoey for this reason, but realized fairly quickly that it wasn't actually her fault. He comes to adore his younger sister.

He never really got to know Wes until they were a bit older. Until then, he was always that weird orange-haired boy that Zoey hung around with. If he wasn't hanging out with Zoey in their quarters, he was picking Zoey up from the ginger kid's family's quarters. He never disliked Wes, but he never really engaged with him. He never really engaged with many of the other kids in the vault, though, if we're being honest. He was never really properly socialized. He mostly just interacted with his family, and even then, it was mostly just he and Zoey and their mother.

Wes was always curious about him, even as a kid. Theo was a little shy of a couple years older than he and Zoey, but he carried himself like he was older. Most of the vault residents assumed he was stuck up or thought he was too good to spend time with the other kids, but Wes never got that impression. But Wes wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed; not always the best judge of character, either, but his gut told him Theo was just misunderstood. He's seen the way he treated Zoey all those years, and conversely, he'd heard her gush about her big brother so much. He had to be a good guy, deep down. Didn't he?

During their high school years, they start to see a bit more of one another; mostly in phys ed. Without much to do in the vault, this is where Theo's channelled a lot of his energy into. He's a stand out athlete amongst the kids, and in turn offers counsel to a lot of the students who aren't doing so well. Weenie Wes is one of these students 😂 They're still not close at this time, but Wes comes to admire him during this time. Not even in a full-fledged crush, but in a hey, this dude is really cool and is a good role model way. But he also can't deny that Theo's easy on the eyes.

But those who already assume Theo is a holier-than-thou sort of guy resent him even more when he becomes a 'star athlete's. And sometimes these troublemakers pick on Zoey just to get under his skin. Theo, being a known protective big bro has had more than one tussle with such idiots. But one of these tussles comes shortly after Theo and Zoey's mother starts showing signs of her sickness. She's the only parent Theo's ever been close to, and it's taking quite a toll on him. They catch him off guard, and he winds up with a bloodied nose before someone calls out nearby and they flee.

He's surprised to see that ginger in this seedy wing of the vault, much less rushing to his aid. Wes makes sure he's sitting upright against one of the walls and offers him a handkerchief before taking a seat near him on the floor to wait it out with him and make sure he's alright. They have their first real chat here. What really draws Theo in is the simple question of "Are you okay?" He laughs. He's sitting in a questionable wing of the vault with his kid sisters friend who just indirectly saved his ass, and a bloody nose. He laughs bitterly, spouting some cynical, half hearted reply.

It's when Wes reiterates, "No, are you… okay-okay? You seem off today." And it's maybe the first time in Theo's life that anyone aside from his immediate family took the time to honestly, truthfully ask him that. And he's not sure why, but he opens the flood gates for Wes. They spend hours in that wing talking, bonding especially over questionable parenting. When the conversation winds down, Theo feels like a weight had been lifted off him. He admires how warm and kind Wes is, and how even in spite of his upbringing, he looked for the good in everything and everyone. He also admires the freckles splayed across the slope of his nose, and the way it crinkles when he smiles, and the warmth in his brown eyes peering out from behind orange fringe as he turns to meet his gaze. Oh shit. His stomach flops a bit at the small realization; his preference was something he was already aware of, but this drove it home somehow.

"It's getting kinda late. We probably should head back. I'll walk with you." Wes beams. Theo barely knows this guy, but this feels like a role reversal to him somehow. Given the circumstances, though, he's not about to object. He enjoys the company on the trip back, and even more so the surprised look on Zoey's face when Wes drops her older brother off at their quarters. Maybe even more than the bloody nose. Theo thanks Wes, and they exchange "see you around"s.

Over the next couple of years, they grow very close. Theo's learned a few things about being more warm and open, and he's even started making a few more friends because of it. He's doing better than he ever has, and he's happy. And their respective crushes have only amplified over time. There's even some light flirting here and there, but neither one is brave enough to make a move. They're worried about what the other residents might thinks or say - what their families might say.

But as Theo and Zoey's mother's health deteriorates and the inevitable closes in, Theo grows more distant, and sort of reverts to his old ways. Wes tries his best to be understanding, but he ultimately feels alienated and hurt. After she passes away, Theo's father's mental health takes a downturn (it had always been bad prior, but after Shelley's death he just kind of snaps). He takes most of this out on Theo (verbally and physically), who recoils back into his old ways and breaks off most of his new friendships because he's so scared his father will if he doesn't. Wes is on the receiving end of what's probably the nastiest severance, and it breaks both of their hearts. But Theo's father has been much more vocal about his homophobia since Shelley's passing, and Theo's terrified he might try to hurt Wes if he ever catches onto what was going on between them.

So he does his best to bear it and wait it out. If Theo's his target, Theo supposes at least his father isn't hurting Zoey or anyone else he cares about. He endures this for about two years before his father goes into cardiac arrest one day and is unable to be saved. By this point, Theo's only confidant is Zoey. He opens up and tells her everything - about Wes and his feelings, and the abuse their father had put him through and why he dealt with it in silence for so long.

By this time, it's only about a year until reclamation day. Theo wants to get a fresh start out in the wasteland once the door opens - put this place and all the bad memories behind him, and to be a better person. But even after months outside and on his own, he still finds himself unable to let go of Wes. But now he has little hope of ever seeing him again. He kicks himself for not trying to rebuild just that one burned bridge. He knows full and we'll he may never see Wes again, or that if he does, it might be in the one way he would never want to see him.

And he continues to kick himself, and to miss that sweet, stupid red head with every fiber of his being - until a fateful day at Fire Base Hancock - which is located right down the hill from Wes's C.A.M.P.

#theo anderson #wes helms #fallout 76 #fallout oc #fallout charater #tarberrymentats #tw abuse #tw homophobia

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arianakristine · 4 years

Text

So, I really did not except Ready or Not, horror-comedy that it is, to hit me with a ship.

But I suppose with a blonde bride who grew up in foster care and is kickass, with a weak but self-preserving groom, and his stubbly curly-haired self-loathing brother? This was only inevitable.

@skagengiirl, I also was taking into account letter L of this prompt, but it turned into something a lot longer to get to that point.

Title: Ready or Not Summary: AU. On her wedding day, Emma thinks she has finally found a family. But her groom is a mess of nerves, her new brother-in-law is distracting, and her in-laws are requesting a game at midnight. If this is what it takes, she can deal with a game of Hide and Seek, right? Note: Strong language, blood, violence, death, and attempted-sacrifice tw? I guess? Also time resetting. This is so not my usual gremma feels kinda fic (but it also kinda is). Taking a little from OUAT, a lot from Ready or Not, and then throwing in a fix-it because why not. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The actual wedding was a blur.

She had expected it would go quick, but it was like a gunshot how fast it went by, almost like a joke. She barely even registered it until the sun was low in the sky and she was getting final photos with her new family in.

She is married. She has a husband. She has a family.

She stands with her hands clutching her bouquet, held smile aching, her in laws over each shoulder. Once the last flash ends, Mr. Gold rushes off to his colleagues. Mrs. Gold squeezes a hand on her shoulder. “Dear,” she says sweetly, her voice more softly accented than her husband’s. “You are doing amazingly.”

Emma feels a buzz of excitement, and she almost kicks herself out of how eagerly she laps up compliments from her mother-in-law. “Thanks. I think I’m keeping it together. Glad I don’t have to get used to it,” she replies, to which Milah bristles and shakes her head.

“Well, the Golds still get a lot of attention on an everyday basis, and you are marrying my golden child,” she says with a laugh. “But if you stay in the right circles, you are correct. You won’t have to keep that frozen smile quite so long.”

She turns and catches Neal’s eye briefly, and he lifts a glass in acknowledgement before turning back to his sister. The redhead is relaxed next to her brother, smile easy. “I’m just glad to be gaining this family,” she admits softly. She needs Milah to know how much this means to her, how much she loves her son and how eager she is to fit in. She’s never fit in before.

Milah tilts her head and studies her with a smile, hand reaching to touch her chin. “Your vows were beautiful. Neal didn’t tell us you were brought up in foster homes. Not that he tells us much of anything these days.”

She freezes, and meets her green eyes head on, trying to see there was any judgement there.

“Ah,” Milah says simply, and chuckles. She winks at her. “I see. You think your blood isn’t blue enough. Don’t worry; they said the same thing about me.”

“They did?” she asks. She feels oddly unmatched next to Milah’s sophisticated demeanor, and couldn’t imagine her being anything other than this composed, no-nonsense, elegant woman.

Milah smiles, incisors sharp and bright white. “Stand tall. And fuck ‘em,” she says simply, and then nudges her arm as she leaves the staged area in front of the fountain.

She plays with her rings, waiting a little anxiously for the next family member. Her brother-in-law hops down the stairs, drink predictably in hand. He sets it on the ground, loose curls falling over his stubbled face, before he joins her. His suit is immaculate and his posture straight despite the sharp smell of whiskey clinging on him. He rests a hand on her spine gently to turn her towards the photographer before dropping it just as quick, and a familiar tingle shoots through her at the action.

She glances up at him quickly, eyebrow quirking. The Golds are not an unattractive group, but Graham is just … a lot. He looks handsome today, just as handsome as she’d first noticed when Neal had first introduced them weeks ago. It was too bad he leaned so heavily on his vices or else something in his sweet, genuine personality may have changed her mind about which brother she preferred.

She’s kidding, of course.

At least mostly.

“So,” he says, accent tickling her ears. “You’ve decided to stay.”

His words from the bedroom, as she was practicing her vows, come back to her. Not too late to flee, you know. You don’t belong in this family. And I mean that as a compliment.

She actually believes he meant that; he was always a little self-loathing, and loved to jump with an insult or two when it came time to mention the entirety of the Gold clan. And he had almost looked mad at his older brother for choosing to marry her, though she must have imagined that. As much as Graham seemed to loathe his family, he loves his older brother a whole lot. But he’s told that joke before, something along the lines she should run screaming from their family, and sometimes it didn’t quite feel like a joke.

“Observant,” she replies with a nod. Her fixed smile turns to a smirk, and she looks up at him. They’ve always had an easy banter, and she needs a little of that right now. She still feels like a frayed nerve around the rest of the family, too afraid she’ll screw something up and they’ll see just how broken she is. “You look pretty lucid, all things considered,” she states.

Graham presses his lips into a firm line, those soft cobalt eyes more haunted than amused.

“Mr. Gold, Mrs. Gold, please look here!”

She flinches at the technically correct but strangely stated titles.

Graham’s lip quirks up and he is almost back to his old self. He nods toward the camera. “Quick, smile pretty.”

She blinks and wants to smack him or something to get him all the way back, but instead does as asked.

She feels eyes on her as the camera flashes, and she turns her head to find one of the relatives, Aunt Cora, she thinks, staring daggers at her. Shivers unnervingly light up her spine, and Graham shifts to catch her expression.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he says matter-of-factly under his breath through gritted smile. “She’s just trying to figure out if you’re a gold-digging whore. Y’know, like my wife.”

She makes a sound half-way between a giggle and a snort, shaking her head with the realization that he is probably drunker than she first assumed. “Don’t let her catch you saying such flattering things,” she admonishes, teasing in her tone.

Graham smirks and the back of his hand brushes hers as he gives a mock wave in the direction of his wife, who is currently staring down her nose disapprovingly at them. “Oh, she knows exactly how I feel about her,” he says coolly.

Her brow knits a second and she’s a moment away from pressing further before she remembers: pictures. She smiles once more, but ponders his statement a little. Truly, there seems no love lost between Graham and his icy wife. She wonders what put it there. She’d never met the woman before today. Graham … he seems to be completely sickened by her presence. With how distant Milah and Rupert are from each other as well, she wonders if it is just the strain of the very institution of marriage.

Neal and her will never be like that, she vows silently.

Neal didn’t seem suited to the Gold legacy when she first met him, even though he stands to inherit it all. He had been distant from his entire family, except Graham, for almost two years. She guesses that’s what drew her to him in the first place. His outsider-status met up with hers, even if his wealth put them on different tiers. Now she sees just how nicely her groom meshes with the station and tradition. He is laughing with his sister and mother, easy smile on his face. His family loves him, and he fits.

She wants to fit, too.

It had been a whirlwind of only three months, and now his ring sat on her finger as he welcomed her to the higher echelon. She didn’t care about the money, but the big, traditional, perfect family … that was something.

Now that she sees them all together, she can see that Graham, on the other hand, still doesn’t seem to belong. The alcoholism aside, his features and mannerisms and personality are just intrinsically different, enough to be noticeable. And the way the rest of them interact with him: distant, cool. He is definitely the black sheep.

Neal had said that his brother takes after his mother, and that was the problem. Rupert Gold had married three times, but Milah was both first and last. His lovely second wife Belle had died just after their wedding, from what Emma understood. Graham had been lucky enough to be born just before it, though scandalously just after the first divorce was finalized, as Neal would whisper with a grin.

She idly wonders if Graham thinks it an insult the way his wife seems to blend into the darkly pristine family.

She won’t put a strain on their relationship by mentioning how much she likes that difference in Graham, and how vaguely disappointed she is that she doesn’t see it anymore in Neal.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he whispers.

She looks up, but he isn’t looking at her. He still looks sad, and she wonders if it is just the drinking. She ignores the way the compliment bolsters her. “Thanks. You’d clean up nicely, if you’d lay off the whiskey for a bit.”

He huffs a laugh that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Well, guess you’d just have to imagine, then.”

She poses for the last couple pictures, and doesn’t startle when he takes her hand for a few. Part of her remembers the warm feeling when they’d first locked eyes, and how her grip on Neal had faltered. She remembers the easy way they meshed, the silences that were a little heavier and more meaningful than they should be.

She loves Neal. She is married to him. She will spend her life with him.

She needs to stop thinking about his brother.

“Your little school-boy crush is starting to wear thin.”

Graham doesn’t glance up at his wife, and instead continues watching his brother and his new bride posing for the last photos. He doesn’t rise to her bait, though irritation flickers through him. He loves Neal. He would never do anything to hurt his older brother, and that includes hiding his affection for his wife. At least, anything that would be considered inappropriate.

He’s not surprised that she sees it, though; to manipulate someone, you have to know how to read them.

She sniffs and leans over the terrace, lips pursed. “She’s pretty enough. In that ‘last call at the dive bar’ sort of way.”

He half rolls his eyes and picks up his drink, finally turning away. He doesn’t need to defend her. Emma is stunning in her wedding gown, just as she has been in leather jackets and blush pink dresses and flannel pajamas.

He knows he likes her too much. Beyond just the physical attraction that couldn’t be helped, something in her was just … she matched. And she was such a good person, despite the past that she believes makes her unworthy.

Which is why he is absolutely pissed at his older brother right now.

He has always loved Neal. He was the only good one in their dominion. The naïve one maybe, but the good one. Graham had bent over backwards to get Neal away from the family, helped him move as far across the country as possible. Helped to remove him from the sacrifices it meant to be a Gold. Even married first, so Neal wouldn’t feel obligated to add to the family line.

The less they add to this family, the better.

For him to do all this and Neal to still bring back this beautiful, strong, innocent woman with the intention to be married … he doesn’t know where he went wrong.

He wishes he were more callous. Maybe he’d have made a move on her, stolen her away, given her another option. He’d seen it once, in her eyes; if he gave her the option, she might have made another decision.

But he could never do that to Neal, and he could never do that to Emma. Good matched with Good, and he definitely wasn’t that. No, he likely deserves the marriage he has. And Emma deserves much more than any of them.

He’d hoped Neal would tell her before the wedding. Graham knows he should have told her, too, but he needs Neal to. There’s still has a chance he will; Neal has until midnight to get her out.

Prove it to me. Prove to me you’re still the good one.

“She’ll never be one of us, you know,” Regina says, breaking his thoughts. She plucks the drink out of his hand. She takes a swallow, then stares down at her with her penetrating gaze.

He sneers. “Of course not, dear. She has a soul.”

Regina certainly does not.

Just past midnight, Emma finds herself with a black box in her hands, at the edge of a strangely shaped table, in between her husband and his brother. Across the table, dark eyes measure her up from every angle.

She swallows and doesn’t jump when the side pocket clicks out, and she quickly scoops up what was inside.

Emma looks down at the card in her hand, Hide and Seek in a loopy script. She turns the card to show her new family, a smirk on her face. “Seriously?”

She’s a little taken aback when her husband doesn’t chuckle along with her. Instead, Neal has gone white as a sheet, staring blankly at the card in her hands before his gaze seeks out his father at the head of the table.

“Everything … okay?” she asks, a little confused.

“Ah, yeah,” Neal says, and scratches the back of his neck. A stiff smile suddenly plants on his face. “Of course.”

Mr. Gold rises with a pleased expression and claps his hands together. “Ah, Hide and Seek!”

The chair creaks beside her and she turns to her new brother-in-law, expecting at least his weird sense of humor, especially in light of the liters of whiskey he’d been ingesting all day. Instead, his face is grim and resigned, the only time Graham has ever refused to look at her.

Her brow furrows and she shakes her head, wondering if she’s imagining the anticipatory look on the others’ faces. “Are we really going to play that?”

Gold smirks. “Those are the rules,” he says jovially, tongue trilling against the ‘r’ slightly.

She was feeling a little ridiculous as she slides the card back and forth between her fingers. She just wants to tear her designer dress with the million layers off, fall into bed with her new husband, and learn what it means to be a married woman. Everyone is looking at her expectantly, though, and she knows she can’t beg off. At least not yet. “So, then … who hides and who seeks?”

“It’s your initiation, dearie,” Gold says and stands, grabbing his cane along the way to approach her. “You get to be the one to hide.”

She doesn’t love his tone, the too-eager glint in his eye. She hates this Games room with the animal heads glaring down on her. She hates the designated chair by the fire that no one can sit in. She especially hates feeling everyone staring at her with bated breath (except for Graham, who still can’t look).

But she guesses she’s playing hide-or-freaking-seek.

Hopefully the game will be quick.

She shrugs and follows her father-in-law. “There’s no way to win, then, right?” she asks.

Rupert grins. “Stay hidden ‘til dawn.”

She sniggers and shakes her head. “Ah, no thanks. I get a head start?”

He follows her chuckle, but it seems darker. “Certainly. Count of a hundred.”

“Oh, wait,” she says before she leaves, and turns back with her champagne to the others. “To Mr.,” oh, what was his name again, “Uh, Deash?”

They raise their drinks and grin as they toast back, though Graham is staring blurrily at the table. “To Mr. Deash!”

She feels numb when Clara falls to the floor, sputtering from a half intact face. Her breaths come sharp, and her fingers are ice cold as Neal grips her hand.

It could have been her. It should have been her.

She hears someone skid into the room, triumphantly screeching, “I did it! I got her, Daddy!”

“Zelena, you shot the maid!” Gold sharply fires back. “And what were you thinking, aiming for the head? She must be alive for the ritual!”

“Does she look like she’s in a giant wedding gown, Zelena?” Graham’s voice cuts in sardonically from somewhere further away.

“Oh,” Zelena says, and Emma can hear the frown in it. “Well, it still counts, right?”

Emma’s breaths sharpen further. Dead. She’s dead. She was right there, and she’s dead.

She hears not-too-steady footsteps enter the room. “Yeah, let’s be done with this shit,” Graham says, voice tinged with relief.

“No.” The venomous voice could only be Aunt Cora. “It has to be the bride. Those are the rules.”

Those are the rules. The bride. Her.

She doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the clipped jabber. She just knows now that everything she was expecting, the fitting in, the family, is now gone.

When they leave, dragging the body away, and Neal ushers her into the servants’ corridor, she turns big eyes on him. “What?” she breathes, unable to form any other syllables. She feels sick.

Neal’s eyebrows jump up. She sees calculation behind his expression before he begins pleading.

Tradition. They have to kill you by morning. Babe, I’m sorry, but you wanted to get married. If I told you before, you never would have married me.

The more he explains, the more her heart sinks. She thinks she has already lost all her love for him in those words, even when she tries. She tries to press her lips to his and feel that same passion she’d felt just hours earlier.

Did you ever love me at all, she wonders, when he leaves her to turn off the security cameras.

She doesn’t think she wants to know the answer.

The bottom of the dress rips under her shaking hands, and she stands on sneakered feet. Stay hidden ‘til dawn, right? Neal is helping her escape. That has to count for something.

When she enters the study, she is alone. The fire is roaring, and she hides behind a column as she tries to listen out for the Golds. She took a wrong turn or something. She needs to find the service kitchen, wait for Neal to disable the security system.

What she doesn’t expect is the hidden door at her side opening, Graham coming face to face with her.

Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and she knows she must have a crazed look in her eyes.

His sister just murdered someone, and she thought it was her. This family is trying to kill her.

Graham’s face is surprised, to be sure, but strangely impassive. His tie is undone and he is holding the strap of a shotgun over his shoulder. He hesitates a beat, and then steps into the room.

“I just came to get a drink,” he mumbles, and moves slowly to the pool table.

She can’t steady her breathing, but something in her relaxes. Graham. Her Graham, he tried to tell her, didn’t he? Not too late to flee. He’ll help her. She knows it.

He crosses to where the open bottle of Wild Turkey is resting. He blinks, lashes skirting across his cheek, and doesn’t look at her as he pours a fifth of bourbon into a crystal glass. “I have to call the others,” he says softly, his accent pooling regretfully around the words.

“No, Graham, no. You don’t,” she whispers forcefully. Her nails dig into the wallpaper, refusing to move. “No, Graham, please. You can help me.”

He sighs, such resignation in his whole body. He takes off the gun and leaves it on the table. “This doesn’t end well for you.” He pours a separate glass. “I just don’t want to be the one to serve you up.” He holds it out in offer.

She is glued to the wall, and her eyes widen even more. No. Graham … he likes her. She can see it all the time. She had almost coaxed the words from him once, in a too-cramped almost-inappropriate space when she had wanted to hear it. Even if he won’t admit it, he likes her. And it’s not just some creepy ‘lusting for his brother’s girlfriend/wife’ situation. It’s real. He likes her. “Graham,” she says forcefully. He’s drunk. He needs to snap out of it. “I’m begging you.”

He stares downward, the glare of flames flicking across his face and highlighting the perspiration coated over his angular features. He briefly looks at her, before turning his gaze to the painting of his father on the wall. “I’m really sorry about all this,” he says mournfully. “I can give you a ten second head start.”

She inhales sharply. No. “Graham.”

He refuses to look at her, but he also refuses to count.

She wants to scream and shake him. She almost does, but changes her mind last minute. Fuck this, fuck him, fuck everyone. Does she actually know anyone? She runs out the door.

“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Two and a half one-thousand.”

The numbers fade as her sneakers pound against the polished floors, as fast as her feet can carry her. Is he really going to call them to her?

“She’s in the study!”

Regina rushes in with her gun on the ready, but slumps when she only sees her drunken husband.

“You lost her?!” she exclaims, disgust in her tone.

Graham swirls the alcohol in his glass and barely nods. He doesn’t look at Regina, bile filling his throat. He swallows it down with the liquor. He sighs. “Indeed.”

Regina lowers her gun and sneers derisively at him. “You’re pathetic.”

He raises his empty glass in a toast and nods sharply. “Indeed.” He rises and walks to the decanter, not even glancing back at his wife.

“You failed. And do you know what happens when you fail, Graham?” He says nothing, and she sets her hands on her hips. “Can you at least pretend to care?”

He pours another drink and squeezes one hand into a fist. “Do you remember,” he begins, and makes sure his glass full. “When I told you about this?”

Regina pulls her shoulders back, dark eyes gleaming with loathing.

He wants to laugh but refrains, and his smile is feral. “You didn’t even blink. You couldn’t wait to sign your soul away.”

Regina had wormed her way into his life, through lies and guilt and ploys and outright blackmail. But he’d prepared her, told her everything about his family and the game they’d have to play for her to be part of them. He’d told her of the chance, the possibility that they’d hunt her down, sacrifice her to the God of the Underworld to retain their wealth.

There had been more than a small part of him that hoped she’d pull the wrong card, and he could admit to a flicker of disappointment when she’d pulled chess instead.

The game has only been drawn twice in his lifetime. He’d only seen it in action once, too young for the actual participation, but he knows full-well what happened that night. Even still, he had hoped to see that loopy script when Regina had turned her card over.

He knows, ultimately, that he could never be the one to end her, even if he had been prepared to see it through. Maybe that’s why he’s resigned himself to being locked to the woman for life; penance for his past deeds and dark wishes.

He isn’t prepared to see it through for Emma.

Regina smiles, cold and sure. “I’d rather be dead than go back to what I was. And you, the fuck-up-lesser-Gold, were an easy out.”

“Love you, too, honey,” he says sarcastically. Then, with more conviction, he levels his gaze on her. “She doesn’t deserve to die.”

“That’s not your decision.”

He chuckles and swallows back his drink. “I hope she kills us all.”

“Well, she’s out,” Milah says flatly, watching the dark of the garden from her window.

Graham smirks and places his gun on the table. “Ah, so. It’s been fun. What do you say, we divvy up the wedding gifts at brunch tomorrow?”

“Do you think this is a game?!”

He is slammed into the wall by his father, and he has a flash of fear before he settles back into the detachment. Rupert Gold is usually in control, cold and horrific, perhaps, but rarely quick to act. He sees a sort of madness in his gaze now, and wonders just how far he can push it. He stares into his father’s eyes and can’t help but bite out, “yeah. Hide and Seek, right?”

He pushes him again and Milah only looks on with her deep green eyes. She pities him, maybe, but she doesn’t speak up. He is not her son, and he is certainly not her golden child.

Neal and Zelena walk through the door, called by the commotion.

“Don’t you realize, boy?” Rupert bites out. He gestures to the window. “If she lives until dawn, we all die!”

He smirks, and shakes his head. He looks to Neal, trying to see if he can discern how safe Emma is by his expression alone. Neal refuses to look at him, and Graham prickles. “That’s what we deserve.”

Gold levels him with a cold stare. “I want you out of the way. Go take the bodies to the pit.”

“Zelena, go with him,” Milah urges. Not surprising, since his little sister is the reason the two maids are dead.

“Ah, clean up duty for the fuck-ups,” Graham mutters, and wonders if he should drink more. He’d probably feel a hell of a lot less. It’s certainly an attractive option when what you feel sucks.

“But—Daddy,” Zelena whines, but he shushes her.

“Listen to your mother,” he says dismissively to his youngest, but places a hand on her shoulder and guides her out of the room. “And dearie? Try not to kill anyone else along the way.”

Graham closes his eyes, wondering if ‘sickened but not surprised’ is his usual state with this family. When they open, his brother is staring. He nods to him, lips in a firm line. Neal will help keep the others away. Emma will get the chance to escape.

Maybe he actually didn’t fuck it up this time.

“Do you really believe that?”

Graham turns his head to his sister, away from the body of the woman she killed. He feels completely impassive, and he knows without follow-up what she is asking. “Yes,” he says simply, and lugs the body into the pit. “We deserve to die. All of us.”

“No,” Zelena says roughly. “I don’t. My kids don’t. My kids don’t deserve to die, Graham.”

For the first time, conflict stirs in him. He considers it a long moment.

He loves his nephews.

He doesn’t doubt the curse is real, so, yes, they deserve to be destroyed, all of these damn adults. Generations of this game has passed, and their debt is long overdue.

But what about the boys? Felix is nine, and Peter is only seven. They are innocent in all this.

And yet, so is Emma.

He sighs, unable to say anything to his sister’s point. Then, there is a rustling from one of the stalls. “Peter?” he calls, watching as his nephew pulls himself from the hay, swaying, a welt over his right eye.

“Peter, baby, what are you doing up?” Zelena cries, and kneels next to him. She rests a hand on his forehead, inspecting the forming bruise.

“I followed her here,” he says proudly. He lifts his chin. “I shot her with the gun I found.”

“You—what?” Graham stutters, his blood freezing, horrified. What was Peter thinking? Is she already gone? His mouth goes slack, and he doesn’t know how to process this. He’s seven. “Why would you do that?”

He frowns and pouts. “That’s what you all were trying to do!”

Zelena grins and hugs him to her. “Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m so proud of you, Graham.”

He is instantly six years old, shaking and frightened, Milah’s hand on his cheek. Neal is behind him, safe and locked in the closet. He can only stare as his new uncle is dragged into the Games room by his father and grandfather, his screams echoing off the walls. He catches a flash of the man with the blue-flamed hair in the chair by the fire, and his Aunt Cora is drying tears off her cheeks as she abruptly straightens, grip on the dagger tightening by the side of her satin skirt.

He hadn’t cared, had he? He had seen the bolt lodged in his uncle’s stomach, had heard him begging him to keep quiet. And yet, Graham had still called for the others, told them where he was.

He let them sacrifice him. It was his fault.

It was the only time Milah had shown any gentle affection towards him, just like now is the only time he’s seen his sister with any maternal instinct.

His stomach churns violently, and he has to look away.

What shade of fucked up is his family?

“Graham, Zelena!” he flinches at the sound of his father bellowing. “Get back to the house. We’re going to need to start the ritual. Sidney’s found her and is bringing her back.”

It’s closer to dawn, she thinks. The stars are still visible and it’s still dark out, but it’s been dark for hours.

All things considered, she’s been productive if not successful in her attempts to escape.

She has managed to crash a pot of boiling tea over the butler’s head so she could break out the kitchen door. She has managed to sock that little shit Peter in the face after he shot a hole in her palm. She has managed to crawl out of a pit of dead goats and human skeletons, a nail through her injured hand for her efforts. She has managed to tear through the wrought iron gate and run to the street with only a ripped slash through her side, even if the only result was a tirade of swears at the damned fucker that didn’t stop his car for her. She’s even managed to wake from the tranquilizer dart Sidney hit her with, managed to flip his car into the woods.

She certainly hopes it’s closer to dawn, with all the shit she’s been through.

Her head is throbbing as rips herself from the wreck, and feels herself scream more than she actually completes the action.

Fucking Sidney.

She has a half second to breathe before there is a rustle in the trees.

Shockingly, it’s Graham. He is stumbling a bit, hand on his shotgun, cobalt eyes wide in the glare of the headlights. He pauses, and takes in the scene. “Déjà vu,” he says, exasperated.

“Graham,” she replies, breathless.

He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know, I came out here to get away from the madness, to get some peace and quiet. Thanks for crashing into it. Kinda shocked, given your shy, delicate sensibilities.”

“Graham,” she repeats, uneasy smile crossing her face. She can’t even respond to his lame attempt at humor. She remembers the swell of affection that could have been more and knows she isn’t wrong about him. She knows she isn’t. “You don’t want to kill me.”

He pauses and looks at her seriously, suddenly very sober. His gun is still pointed down, nowhere near facing her. “No, I don’t.” He looks distressed. He shakes his head. “I like you, Emma.”

He admits it, for the first time. She blinks back tears, and she fleetingly wonders what may have happened if he admitted it before she was married. All his thinly veiled warnings are suddenly clear in hindsight, and she wishes so hard that she had pressed for more detail, either from him or from Neal. She reaches forward, and then immediately drops her hand. “So … so, let me go.” She nods, he will, he likes her. “Okay?”

“I’m weak,” he says with such conviction, something he’s obviously been told a million times over. He shuts his eyes and gives a short shake. He raises the gun. “I can’t.”

Her blood runs cold.

“You’re a good guy, Graham,” she says vehemently, pleadingly. He is, isn’t he? Always. An alcoholic, a little dorky, but good. Glaringly, exceedingly good, she’s felt that. “You’re a really, really, really good guy,” she continues, as if trying to convince him of it.

“It’s the curse. I—I can’t let my entire family die because of you,” he says earnestly.

“What, Graham, no. That’s – you can’t really believe that’s true! No one is going to die. It’s bullshit. This whole curse, the whole ritual, its bullshit!”

“No, it’s not, Emma. I’ve seen it,” he says plainly.

She wants to rip her hair out and scream in his face. “You’re better than this, Graham!” she argues.

He looks pained, then almost angry. “I am not who you think I am.”

She swallows, but doesn’t dare take a step back.

He chuckles humorlessly and rolls his eyes up. “Neal was the one who got out. If anyone was to save you, it wouldn’t be me. It would have been him.” He stares at her, and his deep eyes are swimming with tears that don’t dare fall. “Just ask my wife. She’ll tell you how heartless I am.”

The muzzle is at her shoulder, but he isn’t pulling the trigger, and the kick of the powerful weapon would put the bullet in the trees anyway. It’s as if he’s afraid to hurt her. It’s ridiculous, to be fair: she is hurt enough, blood loss making her faintly dizzy, and the dress that she had painstakingly chosen is ripped and stained with violence and dirt and smells strongly of past sacrifices, and that’s not even mentioning that his whole family is trying to kill her. “Graham,” she tries, one last time. “You have a heart.”

He shakes his head, so utterly mournful.

Then the shotgun swings instead of fires, and she almost welcomes the blackness.

He looks down at the blood-splattered bride, chest heaving. She almost looks peaceful, and he wonders how she can still look so lovely after all that has happened. He swallows thickly, and wishes that things were different. He wishes he was different. But he can’t take the time to consider any of it. His shoulders slump. “You can come out now.”

His father moves around the trees, looking surprised. He is leaning on his cane, but he doesn’t limp despite the uneven terrain. “You knew I was there?” he asks.

Graham barely shows his teeth as he puts his gun back over his shoulder. “I’m drunk, not blind.”

His father grins, shiny and manic, and looks down at Emma. “I do apologize if I startled you during such an … intense conversation, son.”

He says nothing, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He’s been in this family long enough; he knows when to shut up and play his part.

“You did well, for once. Let’s bring her back for the ritual.” Rupert pulls out a coin, heads or tails, to determine how to drag her back up to the house.

Graham shakes his head and pulls her up in his arms, letting her head rest against his chest. She settles against his heart, her breaths only slightly labored. Her left hand is wrapped in lace, dripping blood, and a gash is visible on her side. He presses his lips together, subconsciously pulling her tighter to him. He grimaces and looks up at his father. “Tradition, right?”

Gold stares at him a long moment, that deep stare that says he is not seeing his child but someone else. “You’re doing the right thing, son. I always knew you had it in you.”

Graham raises his brow and gives him a long look but says nothing.

His father could never lie so well.

She wakes on the table where the game started.

She is lashed, ropes tied at all limbs. She pulls, and fights against the bonds, but she is properly strapped down and can’t squirm enough to get any leverage. A muffled scream tears through her, and she knows that she is trapped.

All the Golds stand above her, save Neal. They are cloaked in hooded robes, the patriarch chanting something in Latin. They look unnatural, not the people she’d seen earlier today and had been so willing to let into her heart, flaws and all. These couldn’t be the same people that were going to be her family.

A silver chalice is being passed around, and she watches as Regina licks a thick line of dark red blood from her lips with anticipatory delight across her face; she looks the most eager to see her dead.

She finds Graham’s eyes in the midst of it all. They look hollow, the depth of them suddenly endless. He brings the chalice to his mouth, and doesn’t break his stare before it is passed along.

She wants to scream again around the gag in her mouth, but the ache in her chest says more.

She had believed in him. Even more than Neal, she had believed in Graham. That realization breaks her heart more than anything else.

What’s worse is some traitorous part of her that is still screaming to believe in him.

Gold’s chanting is reaching a crescendo, a call and response from the others. He begins to raise the dagger above his head, and thunders, “hail Hades!”

Graham is watching with dark eyes, suddenly a bit of life in them. She has only a moment to register it before Gold bubbles up with vomit, blood staining down his fancy clothing. Milah quickly follows suit, and the rest grab their bellies, eyes wide.

“Poisoned!” Cora shouts accusingly before she doubles over herself.

“You son of a bitch,” Gold growls under his gagging.

Graham smirks as he unlaces her binds, and barely ducks away from the weakened swing of his father’s last ditch effort to punch out at him. Everyone else is still retching, diving into corners to keep away from the ceremonial table.

She goes to work as soon as her hand is free, helping loosen her injured arm as he moves to the ankles.

He helps her up with an embrace around her waist, hoisting her until she is steady on her feet and they are both running.

“Did you …?” she asks breathlessly. Did he just kill his family for her?

He shakes his head. “No, I just gave them a nip. I googled it. They’ll shit weird for a week, but they’ll live.” He pulls her into an enclave beside the staircase and they crouch down to listen for the rest as she watches one of the hooded figures run through the hall, gagging as he went.

She stares at him, heart tugging. Soft locks curl across his forehead and she has an urgent need to sweep them back. Instead, she smiles. “I knew you’d help me,” she whispers.

He looks back down at her, as if looking at her for the first time. His face softens, warms, and she falls a little in love with him. “I didn’t,” he replies softly.

She shakes her head and smiles at him. “See? You have a heart.”

He cracks a small smile back to her, more genuine than any before it. He shrugs. “All I knew was that someone, at some point, had to burn it all down.”

She takes a sharp breath, and looks down at her injured hand, wrapped up in lace.

“I’m glad it’ll be you,” he whispers.

She’s in his space, gaze locked with his. She wants to tell him that she’s glad it’s him, that he’s the only one with a soul in this damn family, that she wishes she met him first, something.

He closes his eyes and chuckles slightly, and carefully takes her broken hand in his. “I would have never married you.”

Maybe it’s the most romantic thing she’s heard in her life.

It doesn’t matter.

In the end, it doesn’t matter that she thinks they made a wrong decision.

They turn the corner, on the way to the exit, and Regina is at the ready, a gun in her hands.

Emma freezes, and Graham moves quicker than either woman can think, quickly trading places with her.

“Graham,” Regina utters harshly, accusation and anger on her breath, dark hair matted to the side of her face.

Graham shifts quickly, carefully, to block her fully from the brunette’s aim with his body. She disappears behind him, and Emma leans back against the door frame, feeling exhausted and panicked, and she wants so much not to fight any more. She just wants out.

“Regina, Regina, no,” he demands, though his tone loses its edge with the desperation behind it.

“Move,” she demands. Regina stares a long moment, and shakes her head as she glares at her husband. “She has to die.”

“No,” he repeats and holds one hand out as if the action itself could stop her. “Things have to change, Regina.”

“You’re leaving me for her.” Regina’s eyes damn with realization. “You really don’t care if I live or die.”

He holds up his hands, and takes a step forward. “You really don’t have to—“

The shot rings out and the bullet clips through his neck. Emma isn’t even sure if she cries out as he stumbles to the ground.

All she knows is that she is enraged, and she leaps forward before Regina has the chance to pull the trigger again. Three shots fire harmlessly into the walls and ceiling before Emma gains control. Coldly, she turns the barrel back to Regina and pulls the hammer. It clicks hollowly, out of bullets, and Regina lunges, but Emma is faster. She slams her with the pistol once, twice until she is on the ground.

She raises her chin, proud, until she hears a choked gasp behind her. She spins and the gun clatters. "Graham.”

She falls beside him, fingers going to the thick, warm blood pumping from his neck. She can feel the life draining out of him. “No, Graham!” she says, panicking.

He has just the right amount of worry, of love still in his eyes but he can barely speak beyond the blood filling his lungs. “Go.”

“Graham,” she cries, and presses harder. Maybe if she keeps the pressure.

He weakly grasps her wrist and tugs. “Go,” he chokes out again, barely able to make out the syllable.

She nods once, hot tears spilling over her cheeks. “Thank you,” she cries and leans her forehead against his. She wobbles to her feet, forcing herself to remember the danger. She leaves him behind.

She doesn’t look back, but feels like part of her is missing when she rounds the corner.

So of course that’s when she sees Milah, barely ducking away from the arrow shot her direction. “You don’t deserve this family,” she grinds out, colder than she’s ever been.

It’s not near over. And now every cell in her body is demanding that she fight.

Neal’s face is … lost.

Emma watches as he approaches her, her good hand soaked with the mixed blood of his mother and Graham and her own. She is still panting, feeling crazy. She drops the box on the ground, and it clatters loudly next to Milah’s body.

She rises, but doesn’t walk towards her husband. “Neal … I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” It was deserved, but she did just kill his mother.

But he doesn’t look towards the smashed ruin of his mother’s face. He is like a lost little boy as he aimlessly steps forward. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” he says weakly. His eyes shine with tears. “Graham’s dead.”

She stares, wondering if it hurts worse to have seen him dying or to have his demise confirmed now.

Neal finally looks at his mother, and he shakes his head a little. “You won’t be with me after this, will you?”

She feels stricken. No. Of course not. Your family is trying kill me, and Graham was the only one really helping and now he’s dead. But she doesn’t answer, not sure where he’s going with this.

He takes a step forward, and cups her cheek in his hand. She wants to remember what it was like, to feel loved by him, but leaning into it does not make her feel that warmth.

Cobalt eyes and a gentle squeeze was more than she had ever felt with Neal.

But maybe this is goodbye, and he is letting her escape like he has promised all through the night, and he is letting her go.

But then his other hand reaches to her other cheek, and he presses. Hard. Harder.

“Neal, Neal, you’re hurting me,” she hisses out.

She watches the exact moment he changes, and he flips around, holding her tight to him. “She’s in here!”

This time, there are no hoods. No bindings. No gag.

Somehow it is even worse to see Neal standing above her, chanting, in the remains of his tuxedo, Graham’s blood splattered across the white of his expensive dress shirt.

She is held down by the remaining family, even Zelena’s two boys have taken hold of her leg. She should be weak with blood loss, but when she sees Neal raise the dagger, ready to pierce through her heart, she gets the sudden energy to move and the dagger plunges through her shoulder instead.

She barely registers the pain, too much in too short of time, all on the same damn arm, and she uses the leverage and the shock to yank it out of her. She leaps onto her feet and turns on the family with it raised in challenge.

She thinks Gold looks the most surprised, mouth open and eyes wide.

“But—“

She screams in rage, poising the weapon at a better angle. The family all look perplexed, and Neal’s face is still colored in frenzy.

“Dawn!” Cora calls suddenly, and they all look out the window in fear.

The light of day falls on them all, and they cower for a moment until … nothing.

“Nothing?” Victor asks, then looks around. He points to his wife in accusation and self-righteousness, and Zelena only cowers over the kids. “I knew this was all bullshit!”

“What do we do with her, then?” Regina bites in.

Rupert looks confused, and glances to his sister with a shrug of bewilderment.

Cora shakes. “I know it’s too late, but I won’t fail him. The girl still dies!” she screams and raises her axe.

And she immediately explodes.

Emma begins to laugh. She feels like she can’t do anything else as she watches as one by one the family just … combusts. She is soaked with blood and viscera, and can’t stop the hysterical laughter escaping her. Victor, Zelena, Rupert.

It is an extra feeling of righteousness to see Regina burst after she pathetically pleads for her old life. Emma’s eyes close as she grins at the justice in it.

Was this winning?

“Emma, no, Emma.”

She turns to her husband, the only one left.

His eyes are wide, crazed, pleading. “No, Emma, I don’t want to die.”

“Neither did I, you selfish fuck,” she bites out.

“No, see, you made me better! And—and he’s not taking me! Don’t you see? We can leave together! I can get a do over, and it’s because of you, right?”

“Oh, Neal,” she says and shakes her head. For the first time since the game began, she feels pity for him. He looks pathetic. She slips off her rings. “I want a divorce.”

He explodes as soon as the platinum hits him, but she barely looks. She braces herself on the table, and wonders if she should feel more than this … numb.

She survived. But this doesn’t feel like winning.

She stumbles out of the room, and then falls, cross-legged, into the middle of the floor. Graham’s body is still in the hallway, hand slack at his neck. She stares a long moment, then crawls to him, cradling her useless arm to her chest.

He looks asleep, save for the drying blood across his cheek and half-hidden under his fingers. She pushes back the hair on his forehead. “Thank you,” she whispers again, and tears track down to cut through the gore on her face. She has saved herself, ultimately, but would she had even gotten this far without his help?

“Graham … you have a heart. You’re the only one in your family to claim that,” she says, and brushes back his hair soothingly. She can’t do anything more than that, wrath and betrayal and pain hidden beneath the actual sorrow she feels as she looks down on his face.

She hears footsteps shadow her into the hall, the smell of ash and sulfur following. She looks up, and there is a figure with blue-flame hair and a nasty grin.

She stares at him blankly a heavy beat. “Mr. Deash, I presume?”

His grin widens, and he looks down at the wrecked body in her arms, considering. “Want to play another game?”

She wakes back in the Games room, card flimsy but solid in her hand. Her dress is pristine, lace sleeves intact and pure white again. Neal is beside her, Zelena and Victor opposite, Gold at the head, Milah smiling at his side, Regina cool and sneering.

She looks up, and lastly catches Graham’s eye next to her.

He has that look, that look of dread and realization, but he is looking at her this time.

“Emma—“

“Oh, Hide and Seek!” Rupert exclaims.

She stands, grateful not to wobble, and squeezes her left hand open and shut a few times. “Those are the rules, right?”

Her mouth forms a firm line. She will put on a show for Hades, but she will right her wrongs. She’ll win this time.

Fuck you, Mr. Deash.

When the hidden door opens in the study, she is ready.

She fists her hands in the collar of his shirt and pulls him close. “You remember,” she accuses.

He swallows visibly and nods.

“You die,” she says.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“They die,” she admits, unsure if he knows. He was gone before it happened. “Neal tries to complete it. I escape. I live ‘til dawn, and they all die.”

He looks down at her, cobalt eyes catching the reflection of the flames. “Yeah.”

There is silence a few beats. It feels like a final question. He had been ready to save her before he knew that his family – his parents, his sister, the boys, Neal – they all would die violently. Would he still be willing to save her knowing that they will be wiped out?

He shakes his head, haunted. “He should have told you before he asked.”

She nods, quick to agree. They could have avoided this whole night if Neal had told her before he bent on one knee, and they could have all made it out in one piece. “Yeah. You could have tried better to, too, you know.”

He barely nods, though she can see some doubt in him. “He was always better than me. I wanted to give him a chance.”

She waits through the heavy silence, grip unfaltering in the heavy fabric of his dress shirt.

He swallows visibly, and leans down fractionally. “We need to get you out of here,” he says softly.

She feels her heart twist and swell, affection swirling in her belly. She steps on tiptoes to press a kiss, solid and firm, on his lips, like she hadn’t the chance to the loop before. She falls back to watch his face.

He is stiff a moment before he takes in a ragged breath, and then his hands press at the small of her back, over untarnished lace and silk, as he yanks her lips to his again, holding her close as he deepens the kiss to shape something more desperate and longing.

“Do you need a divorce,” he ponders when they part. “When your wife murders you?”

She inhales and exhales a short laugh. “I don’t know. Do you need one when your husband tries to sacrifice you to Hades?”

His winces, mirth suddenly gone from his face. She supposes it still feels wrong; he put Neal up on a pedestal for so long, his perfect older brother. She closes her eyes and rests her head on his chest, hoping he takes the apology for what it was.

“I still wouldn’t marry you,” he murmurs over her head.

“I wouldn’t marry you,” she counters and peers up with him. She rests her hand over where he bled out, rubbing softly against the whole, unblemished skin. “But I’d be willing to spend some lifetime with you. Like, a lot of it.”

He smiles at her so gently, and takes her left hand in his, skipping past her rings and brushing over where her bullet wound had been. “First we have to win.”

Oh, right.

Murder-family.

Need to deal with that first.

This time, they watch the sun rise over the trees together, on the steps of the sprawling mansion. They share a bottle of scotch, passed back and forth between bloodied hands. She lets him mourn, and she allows herself to mourn a little, too. She can’t cry yet, and she suspects that he can’t quite manage either. It’s fine; they have time.

She expects they’ll be doing a lot of that: mourning. Shared trauma has a reputation for being long-term.

“Shouldn’t I have combusted at this point?” he asks artlessly as he squints into the daylight.

She sniffs and shakes her head. “That wasn’t the deal,” she answers simply.

He rests backwards onto the steps with one arm draped over his eyes and coughs hoarsely. He has a bullet hole in his shoulder now, but she likes it a hell of a lot better than one in his neck. “You didn’t tell me why we got a do-over,” he says without accusation.

She takes a final gulp and then settles next to him. She tugs an arm over his stomach and pulls her body inward, and he takes her automatically closer. She rests her head over his heart and presses her injured hand over his wound. “I didn’t sell my soul, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says dryly.

He laughs, deep and effortless, and then rocks his forehead on her temple. Sirens scream in the distance, slowly approaching, but neither of them pay it any mind. “Ah, my guess would have been the first-born.”

She snorts and sighs. She looks up at him, catching his dark blue eyes made darker with the blood of his family covering his face. She uses her thumb to smear off some on his cheek, as delicately as she is able. For all the horror of it, he’s here. So all she can offer is a shrug. “He likes the game. It gave him a second chance to be entertained, which he wouldn’t have had with all the Golds dead.”

“And you? You won. Why play it again, risk it again?”

She sits back up and he half follows, leaning up on his good arm.

It’s a fair question.

She’s a little worse and a little better this time. Her leg is sliced open from the swing of Cora’s axe, but her side is unscathed. Her hand is still blown through and she still has the wound in her shoulder, mirroring his almost exactly, but she’s without any head injuries from the car crash. Things didn’t happen quite the same, and it was indeed a major risk.

She stares down at a ring hand that never had time to leave a tan line. “Surviving at this level is different, obviously, but surviving isn’t new for me. All my life, I’ve learned how to survive,” she says softly. She turns to him and sees the light and life in his eyes, and she smiles. “But this time I wanted to save, too.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and she can read every bit of why me in his gaze without him saying a word.

“You saved me. I wanted to save you back,” she asserts softly.

He grabs her hand and pulls her back down into his embrace, waiting for the storm of police to invade the lawn. “That make you my Savior?”

“Might make you mine,” she counters, and he grins and pulls her down for a kiss laced with iron.

Maybe she’s found her family after all.

end.

#gremma #gremma ff #ready or not au #graham humbert #emma swan #violence tw #death tw #blood tw #alcohol abuse tw #attempted murder tw #(and by now you know that this is not my usual)#anti neal #anti regina #the rest of them are pretty awful too but the only real anti are those two #weirdest family yet #grace and daniel are emma and graham I don't make the rules

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sakuhai · 4 years

Text

I quite enjoy Oriya❤PJ comics on WEBTOON.I don't think they are homophobic,just extremely intense and mostly focuse on the dark side of humans and relationships because to a certain degree that's closer to reality.

In their most recent project the characters are complicated and full of flaws and some hidden virtues.

The main character is this rich kid who has always been lonely angry and sad.As a kid his mother "abandoned" him and his older sister (who btw once had s*x with a dude who had a boyfriend and a few years later she got pregnant by a married man though so far its unclear whether she had the kid or not,but one thing is for sure.She ALWAYS had her father on her side helping her out and supporting her and being lenient over her mistakes,unlike her brother whome he always judged more harshly and had much more demands for him and on top of that didn't accept the fact that his son was gay and he was never a supportive father.)

Thats one way to look at things but everyone is "morally gray" in the creators works so the father is not a complete monster.He still spoiled his kids providing them with everything.The main protagonist didn't go to college neither did he had a job.He still lived under his "a**hole" fathers roof but he didn't respect him.Like one time he brought in a dude and f*cked him on the couch in the living room.He did it on purpose to piss off his father who caught him and gave him a bloody punch in the face...

The thing with the seme of the story is that he eventually got a job at a bar but he was diagnosed with an extremely serious potentially life threatening heart disease that the doctor said that surgery or surgeries are necessary and can be done at the seme's fathers clinic but he is too proud to ask his father for anything.And he distants himself from his family more and more.And one time he even roasted his sister so hard she slapped him in the face and run away crying.🙄

Now the other main character of this series is the "controversial" one -at least for me-

I guess it's easy to like characters like him.Because he is the uke and he is very pretty and he gets f*cked around all the time so he is the one who provides almost all the s*x in the series so that makes him likable to the audience.

The uke is interesting but also kinda annoying to me.

He was a prostitute for many years.He was picked up from the streets by a daddy and he was offered a job at a brothel.However the contract he signed had significantly more privileges compared to other s*x workers there.

The uke could chose his clients,he could chose whether he wanted to have s*x with them or not and if yes he could chose what kind and set some very strict rules and limitations.No bruises,no hickeys,no any marks.His paycheck was way larger than the other prostitutes as well and most importantly he could quit and leave the brothel whenever he wanted to!And of course he "brought in the most clients"and the boss offerered him special treatment.He told him "Whatever you need I'm always here for you.Don't ever hesitate."

So based on that its understandable why some other s*x workers at the brothel hated him with a passion.And he is always so aloof always smoking a cigarette and has an attitude.

So the uke met the seme at the bar the seme works in and he liked him.They hooked up and continued so for around 4 months until the seme found out that the uke works at a brothel and he was disgusted.The uke answers that he didn't think they were in a relationship and that if he had ever asked him anything he would had answered him.

The truth is that during those months they didn't do anything else but meet and f*ck.They didn't talk or anything more substantial than just s*x but they both are responsible for this because none of them ever took the initiative to try and meet the other better...

So the seme rejects the uke but the latter has a spare key of his apartment and often appears there and he is kinda manipulative because he has figured out a few of the seme's vulnerabilities.He knows he feels lonely that he has anxiety and he is desperate for affection.But the uke translates all this to s*x and he is more "catty" while with the seme things are straight forward.He loses his temper and he yells.He calls the uke hoe and multiple times has declared that he wants nothing to do with him!

Yet the uke always appears in front of him.Some may say he cares he loves him etc but to me all those seem more manipulative and selfish from the uke's part.

He appears at bars the seme goes and he "saves him" from others who want to hook up with him (not that the seme needs physical help) but still the uke magically appears as if he has the right to interfere in the semes life whether for good or for bad.

He still takes care of the seme when the latter is drunk and vulnerable.I can't help but feel that the uke takes advantage of the seme for his own benefit and in a way he does manipulate him psychologically and emotionally.Trying to convince him that they both are "equally dirty" and "horrible people".

Things always end up with s*x for them though no matter how many times the seme has told him he is not interested he doesn't want to see him anymore.He even threatened to call the police on him if the uke didn't give him the spare key back.The uke pretended to do so but he lied.He is so creepy having multiple keys of the seme's apartment and chilling there as he wishes too knowing that in the end the seme will just give in to s*x and things will continue as such.

He even introduced himself as the semes boyfriend to the semes sister when she visited her brother.Before that he had discovered the doctor diagnosis paper which was in a drawer the seme had by his desk.

Btw of course the uke has a "super cool amazing goth girlfriend" who thinks the seme is the a**hole and that her friend should just leave him.She is right but only for the second part.

Anyways the uke once again seemingly got what he wanted.He claimed that ever since he met the seme he hasnt been working at the brothel nor taking any other guys.With the only exception being his ex boss he just couldn't refuse him a "goodbye forever" f*cking.

He told him he has quit the s*x industry for good and permanently.However it seems that the uke has no further explanations or promises to give.And he doesn't have anything in mind about what he is going to do in the future.What other job is he capable of doing?

The thing with the uke is not only that he was a prostitute but he was a criminal who has done some illegal immoral things that are just disgusting and could get him in jail.

Basically he sold drugs to people.And to underage people...Idk but if I was the seme I'd be even more strict with him.Unfortunately this seme seems tough but he is not.He is more like a big kid and he is lonely insecure and vulnerable which the uke I feel like takes advantage of those to guilt trip him.

All it took for the uke to stop being roasted in front of a mirror by the seme was to make a dramatic scene after the seme told him "How do you come here and take for granted that I'll kiss you when I don't know where your mouth has been and how many d*cks it has sucked and how can I be with someone in a normal relationship knowing that he has f*cked half the town!?" After hearing those the uke just grabbed the soap and poured it in his mouth (the dramatic scene) and the seme got worried (exactly as the uke expected) and not only that but the uke then proceeds to once again tell him that they both are dirty.

Idk im mostly leaning towards not liking this uke very much because once again he got what he wanted by manipuation.By psychological threat attempting to wash his mouth with soap.That will make a sensitive person like the seme to think that the uke could do something more serious trying to damage himself if he doesn't get what he wants.

Only time will tell but so far I'm glaring at the uke.Giving him double the attitude he gives to others lol.He is the type of person that thinks that even though the seme rejects him,insults him and even manhandled him few times as long as the uke can still get him to have s*x with him then he will probably fall in love with him eventually...

Anyways the title of this mess is "If tomorrow was yesterday" check it out and make your own opinions if you're interested.

It is an interesting story the chapters are very brief there is a lot of drama and "tea" in each one of them so overall is a easy to binge read comic.Also the art is great though sometimes I feel that the artist goes through the "Same face syndrome" way too often...But that's not so important.

#if tomorrow was yesterday #manhwa #my ramblings #long post sorry

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toocool2btrue · 5 years

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Rare Moments

Lance always took pride at his girlfriend's intellect. For him, she was the most smartest person in the universe and not just humans but a lot species agreed with him.

Unfortunately there was a time, that seemed more like a problem. They had started dating shortly before returning to earth and even before they had started dating, the pair of them had made several plans that they would implement upon after returning.

Unfortunately like always, life doesn't go as expected with a dangerous threat hanging over their lives. The paladins found themself busier than ever, a part of him missed the free time they used to have in space.

It was no surprise, that Pidge had become one of the busiest paladin. Her schedule had become overpacked, hardly leaving time for her to rest even.

But despite the tough schedule, Lance saw the joyful glint in her eyes, her smile could outmatch all the stars in the galaxy.

He didn't want to discourage her so he said nothing. So he kept quiet even though their time spent together became shorter and shorter.

One day as he got out of the training room, he was greeted with a pleasant surprise.

His favourite person was waiting for him.

"Pidge!" he greeted in delight, quickly pulling her into a hug.

"What are you doing here?, I thought you were busy today" he asked.

"A problem came up with the system. They are trying to fix it, so I decided to check up on my wonderful boyfriend" she teased.

He was kinda surprised that his girlfriend wasn't the one leading the operation.. not that he was complaining.

"So is the offer for lunch still up?" she asked slyly.

Lance grinned, taking her pale hand into his tanned one.

"Of course it is" he softly stated, kissing the top of her head.

Lance narrated his week's events, which mostly consisted of training or spending time with his family.

In turn, Pidge gave her usual snarky comments, which he secretly adored though he pretended to be annoyed.

"You should be worried my dear Pigeon" He warned.

"And why is that?" she inquired.

"I have been practicing and this time you don't stand a chance against me in Killbot Phantasm" he declared proudly.

"We can play right now and I will still beat you" she threatened with a confident smirk.

A small hope lit in his heart, he had been dying for a gaming night.

"Can we?" he asked hopefully.

Pidge shifted in her seat, her eyes fixed on her food tray.

"Depends on how long it will take to fix the system" she replied in a small voice.

"Oh" he mumbled, trying to hide his disappointment.

Uncomfortable silence hung in the air, as they quietly ate their lunch.

Pidge cautiously eyed her boyfriend who resembled a kicked puppy.

"Lance.." she started, he reluctantly looked up from his tray to meet her eyes.

"Holt!!" A stern voice called making the pair of them jump.

Iverson stood at the doorway of the cafeteria, there was a glare gracing his face.

What is he so mad about?

Lance wondered.

"Sir!" they greeted as he made his way towards their table.

"Holt, your brother has solved the 'problem'. Get back to work" he ordered marching off.

"That reminds me of our old cadet days" Lance joked, turning back to Pidge. She gave him a concerned look, biting her lower lip as Lance felt pang of guilt in his heart.

"Go, show them how it's done" he encouraged, affectionately ruffling her hair which earned him a grateful smile from her.

"I will try to see you soon" she nodded, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before running off.

_______________________________

As Allura ended her meeting, her eyes fell on the red paladin. He had hardly spoken at all, instead he stared at the table with a distant look in his eyes.

Allura waited patiently as the Garrison officers started to leave, She signaled Keith and Hunk to stay.

Red paladin finally stood up to take his leave as well, he managed to his friends a weak smirk along with his signature finger guns.

"Going to see Pidge?" Allura asked with an encouraging smile.

Lance shook his head with a sad smile, "She is busy today. I am going to have lunch with Ronnie"

The others nodded and Lance took his leave.

Allura resumed her original seat, "I have never seen him so unhappy" she confessed.

"Lance is like an open book sometimes. Even if he tries to hide it, it's eventually written all over his face" Hunk informed and the rest of the two silently agreed.

"He has been occupying himself a lot with training and helping the refugees"

"But man it's hard to catch a break these days, trying to modify human technology according to the advanced civilizations. Pidge and I have gone crazy" Hunk added.

"She is also helping Sam and Shiro with their operation. I am pretty sure that the meetings are the only time Keith and I see her" Allura stated worriedly.

"Bu

Keith sighed, "I ran into Pidge and Shiro in the morning. They both looked like they would fall apart any minute. The Garrison shouldn't be so hard on them!" he gritted his teeth in anger.

Allura squeezed his shoulder in comfort, "That is the price of war we have to pay" she softly stated.

"What's with the long face?" Veronica sternly asked, her blue eyes glared at him from behind her glasses.

"I don't know what your talking about?" he challenged turning back to his food.

"Looked inthe mirror recently?, You look like a grumpy old man"

Lance simply rolled his eyes at the comment, "I am just stressed out. After all there is a death threat hanging on our heads" he snapped.

Veronica's eyes widened in concern as she opted for a more softer way, "I understand that there is a chance we might not survive but acting this way is not the solution. We should be optimistic and try to spend as much time with our loved ones as possible"

"Unfortunately that is not really possible in my case" Lance grumbled.

"A-ha!" her blue eyes glinted mischeviously.

"I should have known it was something to do with the green paladin who has my little brother wrapped around her finger" she teased.

"Is everything alright between the two of you?" Veronica asked.

"Yeah, it's just that I haven't been able to spend time with her since we got back to earth and I really miss her.. I know it's selfish of me to think that way but I can't help with that!" he vented.

"Talk to her" Veronica simply stated.

"But she's busy" he objected.

Veronica rolled her eyes, it was time to give some older sister wisdom.

"From all I know, you two are crazy about eachother. You don't think she misses you as well?" She questioned.

"Now go and call her" she ordered.

______________________

Lance paced in his room, glaring at the phone in his hand. He couldn't believe the last time he had called her was two weeks ago but Ronnie was right, he needed to talk to her.

Communication is the key for a good relationship, right?

Finally he pressed the call option, he held his breath eager to hear the voice at the other end.

But no one answered..

He could feel the dreaded disappointed spreading in his heart. Without another thought, he threw his phone on the floor which mercifully landed on a pile of clothes.

He grabbed his jacket deciding that he needed to go on a long walk.

The weather beautifully mirrored his mood, the sky was covered with dark clouds and there was the occasional thundering.

It was no surprise to him, when water drops started falling on his face. His anger partly cooled as he remembered that it was the first time he was experiencing rain after coming back to earth.

He outstretched his palm, catching rain droplets in his hand. The wind had picked up it's might and blowed powerfully, beating against him.

Lance grinned, pushing his windswept hair back. Any sane person , would have returned home but he simply tugged his hoodie on his head and moved forward.

____________________________

The next morning Keith eyed his fellow paladin questionably as he stumbled.

"Everything alright?" Keith asked, Lance simply gave him a thumbs up and got back into position again.

Keith charged again, Lance deflected the first attack easily but was knocked off his feet at the second one.

"Why don't we take a break?" Keith suggested, Lance simply nodded dropping his bow staff.

He pinched his nose, trying to ignore his pounding headache, stretching his stiff muscles. He took a seat onthe floor taking a big gulp of water , he could feel Keith stare from the otherside of the room.

"What?" he asked wearily.

"Your sloppy today" Keith stated.

"Oh great leader forgive me" he teased.

Keith however looked unamused, "We were really making progress with your close combat skills but today you seem uncoordinated . Are you feeling ok?" he brought his hand forward in concern.

"I am fine" he weakly answered, as he staggered on his feet and grabbed his staff.

"You charge" Keith ordered, getting into a defensive position.

Lance closed his eyes trying his best to focus but the headache seem to be taking over his senses. He ignored his body's demand for rest as he moved forward, ready to attack.

Lance let out a cry charging towards with all the force he could muster, unfortunately his conscious finally gave in and the last thing he heard was Keith yelling his name before being engulfed by darkness.

_______________________

As the early morning light of the next day crept through the curtains.

A certain person groaned in his sleep, Lance finally regained conscious though his eyes only partly open. He tried to recall the hazy memories of the previous day and managed to remember that he was ill.

The headache was still present although now bearable, he could still feel the taste of the bitter medicine they had given him while he was half awake. He shifted slightly trying to get in a more comfortable position, every muscle in his body ached in response.

He tried to lift his left arm but was met with a strong tug. Curiously his eyes opened a bit wider to see a small pale hand holding onto his wrist with a tight grasp.

The tiredness suddenly vanished, as he sat straight in surprise. His expression immediately softened at the sight of Pidge in deep slumber, she was sleeping in a sitting position her back propped against her favourite green pillow which resided in his room.

He stifled a laugh seeing her glasses still resting over her closed eyes. He reached over and gently removed them not wanting to awake her.

After all a peaceful expression on her face was rare sight to see, sunlight gracefully showered on her giving her pale skin an angelic glow.

He simply sighed contently leaning closer to admire the beautiful sight.

Unfortunately the moment was short lived as Pidge slowly opened eyes and almost got a heart attack.

"Lance, what the hell!" She breathed, clutching her chest.

"Sorry" he chuckled, happiness blooming in his heart.

"How are you feeling now?" she asked, her eyes darkening in concern.

"Would you believe me? If I told you that the sight of your angelic face completely healed me" he teased, clasping her hands into his.

Pidge rolled her eyes in annoyance but smiled nonetheless.

"We need to get your eyes checked. Nothing is angelic about my face right now" she gestured to her exhausted appearance.

"Don't tell me you were up all night?" he asked.

"It's alright. Veronica was with me so I wasn't bored" she grinned mischeviously.

"So I heard you once tried to runaway from home with only a lunchbox and swimming trunks"

"I was just five. Cut me some slack" he pouted.

"Fine I will leave it..for now" she smirked.

Pidge glanced at her watch, "It's almost time for your medicine but you need to eat something first. Let me get something for you" she said getting up.

He nodded falling back into his comfortable bed, his eyes started growing heavier and he was about to fall asleep when suddenly Veronica arrived.

"Lance, finally your awake" she smiled.

"Hi Ronnie"

"You idiot!" she took a 180 degree turn and smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" he groaned.

"Who told you to get drenched in the rain. Do you have any idea how worried we all were?"

"I am sorry" he mumbled rubbing his sore shoulder, the early guilt returned. He hadn't meant to get his family and friends worried at such a crucial time.

"It's alright." she waved off.

"Although.." she started her voice taking a softer tone. "Take care of her Lance. Your lucky to have her"

"I know" he replied, his heart filling with pride.

Just then the said person appeared balancing a tray of porridge and coffee while she lightly kicked the door open.

Veronica grinned, "I have to go attend a meeting now. I entrust this idiot in your care"

"You got it!" Pidge grinned, giving a mock salute.

Pidge took a seat beside Lance and handed him the bowl of porridge. He gave her a pleading look, sighing softly she took the bowl back.

"Don't get used to it" She teased, raising a spoon full of porridge to his mouth.

"Oh please you love this"

"I beg to differ" she said, raising another spoon full.

Lance simply rolled his eyes, his grin getting wider and wider. He hadn't felt this happy in a longtime.

But something heavier weighed in Pidge's heart.

"Lance.." she started, her eyes downcast.

"Hmm?"

"I am sorry" she mumbled.

"What?" he asked.

Pidge fidgeted, her eyes scanning the room.

"I haven't been fair to you. I know we planned alot of things for earth but we haven't been able to do any of those things much less even spend time together"

"Pidge..do you think I am mad at you for that?" he questioned softly.

She sighed stiffly.

"You might not be but still it wasn't as if you were happy with the arrangement" she added.

Lance chuckled, "Of course I wasn't happy I wasn't able to see my adorable girlfriend."

"But I know that the world needs you more than I do right now. So I didn't want to come in your way" he whispered the last part.

Pidge frowned at his statement, "You know who I need though?"

Lance quirked his eyebrow in curiousity.

"You. I need you" she stated firmly.

Blood rushed to his face and he doubted the heated cheeks had anything to do with his fever.

"Now Pidge. I thought I was the cheesy one in our relationship" he grinned.

"I am serious. My family, our friends and most importantly you help me stay grounded. The other night in the lab, I was overstressed and exhausted. A part of me felt like I was going crazy but then I saw your missed call. Believe it or not but it provided reassurance to me" she confessed.

"I tried calling you again but you weren't picking up and then I came by your room and you weren't there either. Then the next day you faint during training" her expression turns cold.

"You do love scaring the hell out of me!!" she raised her fist.

Lance weakly chuckled, "Now Honey. I can't be there for you, if you kill me"

Pidge lowered her fist, "Just don't do that again" she warned.

"Wouldn't even dream of it" he assured.

"Good" she declared pulling him into a tight hug.

A moment of unspoken words went between them. Pidge clung on to his neck tightly, He rubbed her back in comfort and when they finally pulled away, she gave him a small smile gesturing to her watch.

"It's time for your medicine. Then you should go back to sleep" she advised.

Lance shook his head stubbornly, "No way! I finally get to spend time with you and you want to go to sleep"

"How about we watch a movie?" she offered, picking up her trusty laptop.

Everyone in this world has a small world of their own, the one which gives them a reason to smile in the dark times. The world for which they would do anything to protect.

Even though they were in the middle of an intergalactic war and survival at times felt a far fetched dream.

Pidge still found hope at the sight of the person softly snoring beside her as she stroked his hair. Cherishing the rare moments they had..

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hiding-under-the-willow · 5 years

Text

Slenderverse Highschool AU Character Descriptions

Warning: Real Long Post

(I think I caught all the typos last time I read through this but honestly who knows)

Part 1, because as I have just learned, Tumblr does have a limit on the length of posts.

Slender/The Administrator

• The Principal

• No one remembers what he actually looks like because they're too distracted by the fact that he's wearing a super fancy business suit

• Seriously, what's with the suit?

• Absolutely terrifying without having to say a single word

• Alex Kralie's dad

• Stan Frederick's uncle

• Gives Alex special treatment

• His nickname has been in use so long he doesn't even bother giving out his real name to students any more. There is literally no student in the school outside of his family who knows his real name.

Alex Kralie

Junior

• Has been friends with Jay since 5th grade

• Was a pretty cool person in middle school but became a huge manipulative jerk by high school

• Has a tendency to get in fights with people, only wins about half the time

• Get's away with basically anything because of his dad

• Gets along particularly badly with Patrick, who has threatened to fight him if he ever comes anywhere near Micheal

• Was friends with Brian from childhood through Middle school but is no longer on good terms with him

• Basically hovers over Jay constantly

• Neutral in terms of his feelings on Stan, but treats him better than he does most others since they're family.

• Has probably threatened Alex Koval more than once, definitely meaning he's not on good terms with Jeff

• Wants to be a director, but has trouble working with others since they don't like him much

Jay

Sophomore

• Makes A's and B's

• Basically always hanging around Alex

• Does whatever Alex says

• Low on self confidence

• Used to be good friends with Brian but has grown distant from him because of Brian's bad relationship with Alex

• Wants to be a writer

• Really wants to approach Tim but is too scared of rejection and what Alex might do if he did so

• Lowkey gay for Tim but doesn't realize it

• In search of an after school job

• Major Insomniac

• Kinda paranoid

• Band kid, plays the clarinet

• Enjoys hiking

• Has done a couple of projects with stormy, but never became particularly close with her

Tim

Junior

• Literally just wants high school to be over

• Spent most of his childhood in a psych ward, eventually being diagnosed with schizophrenia, which he now takes meds for

• Only really close to Brian

• Worked on a project with Alex once, it did not go well, they're not on good terms

• Smokes but doesn't want anyone to know

• Works at the gas station down the road from the school

• Thinks Vinnie is alright

• Not on good terms with Noah

• Would probably fight Habit in a Denny's parking lot if given the chance

• Failing more than one class, doesn't exactly care

• Is in theater with Brian, but only really because Brian wanted him to be

• Skips on a regular basis

Brian

Junior

• Theater kid

• Literally constantly on the verge of fighting Alex

• Wants to help Jay get away from Alex but knows that Jay is too far involved with Alex to really help, so has decided to back off

• Bestfriends with Tim

• Get's along well with Jessica

• Kinda worried about Micheal, but doesn't know if it would be the right idea to approach him or not since he seems so jumpy and Patrick is pretty agressive

• Worked on a couple of projects with Noah, still can't quite figure out what's going on with him, but met Milo through him, and they get along well

• Runs an aesthetic poetry blog under the name ToTheArk

Jessica

Senior

• Photographer

• On the school swim team

• Jay's older cousin

• Would literally fist fight Alex if she got the chance

• Good friends with Brian and Steph

• High key worried about Tim, but knows she won't get anywhere by being straight forward about it

• Tries to encourage Michael to get out of his shell a bit

• Not Patrick's favorite person in the world

• Thinks Habit is an overly violent, edge lord wannabe and would probably say that directly to his face if given the chance

• Wary of Stan because of his relation to Alex, but would probably get along well with him if they talked

• Has a girlfriend whose in her first year of college

• Thinks Jeff is pretty cool, but isn't super close to him

• Hangs out in the art room with Steph before school

• Not a huge fan of Eric

• Owns one of the few working brain cells found at the school

_______

Vinnie

Senior

• Goes to the gym with Evan sometimes

• Doesn't really know what he wants to do with his life so he's currently just following after Corenthal by taking psychology classes

• Has known Habit for so long that he isn't scared of him anymore, but fears for others who may be left to deal with Habit alone

• Cares a lot for Evan

• There's some animosity between him and Shaun and Micheal and no one can figure out why

• Best friends with Jeff

• Gets along well enough with Tim when they have class together, but literally can't figure out what's up with him, wishes he would open up more but doesn't have the confidence to try and get him to do so

• Tried to talk to Stan once but caught him in the middle of a paranormal research session and got too freaked out to approach him again

• Was in choir at one point but quit

• Eric makes him uncomfortable

Evan

Junior

• Fitness expert

• Loves hunting

• Works as a trainer at the local gym after school

• Not great in terms of grades, but passing

• In the wrestling club at school

• Best friends with Vinnie and Jeff

• Would like to be closer to Noah but has trouble doing that since Habit and Noah are on such bad terms

• Curious about Micheal and Jay

• Will fight you if you tease him about his height

• Not one to stray away from violence, but doesn't like being associated with it because he doesn't want people to think of him the same way they do Habit

• Punk rock/emo aesthetic

• Gamer, probably plays with Kevin and Noah on the weekends

Habit

Junior

• Evan's twin brother

• Probably a drug dealer

• Has been known to attack kids who mess with him but even the teachers are too scared of him to do anything about it

• Enjoys teasing Noah and Jeff

• Has a collection of knives and other weaponry

• Super over dramatic

• Moves his hands a lot when he talks

• Avoids Alex Kralie

• Big gay

• Feeds stray cats to the point where they follow him around campus

• Skips class and hangs out in the theater

Jeff

Senior

• Really good at math and puzzle solving

• Total book worm

• Takes care of his younger brother, Alex, since their parents are dead

• Good friends with Evan and Vinnie

• Literally can't stand Habit

• Planning for college

• Loved by teachers

• Can almost always be found in the library outside of class

• Would like to be friends with Jay but doesn't want to approach him with Alex Kralie around

Alex Koval

Freshman

• Sticks close to his brother

• Loves his dog, Sparky

• Strugles with mental health in reference to the death of his parents

• Pretty scared of Habit, basically avoids him completely

• Probably doesn't get along well with Alex Kralie

• Very smol, please protect him

• Likes English and writing in general

Damsel/Steph

Sophomore

• Evan's girlfriend

• An artist

• Dislikes the rain, has a fear of drowning

• Wants to go to art school but is being pressed by her parents to pursue something more lucrative

• In medical classes for the above stated reason

• Had some problems with Jeff in the past but has moved on

• Gets along well with Brian and Jessica

• Probably tries to talk to Stan but fails to get him to open up

• Total scene kid

• Friends with Stormy

Dr. Corenthal

Staff

• The school counselor

• Habit, Evan, and Vinnie's adoptive father

• Not exactly on the principles good side, but good enough at his job to keep it

• Has weekly sessions with Milo that Mary doesn't know about

• Tries to talk to Micheal every once in a while but can never get him to talk about his problems

• Has tried to get Tim to come talk to him multiple times but has never successfully brought him into his office to talk

• Helping Jeff plan for college

_______

Noah

Sophomore

• Quiet around people he's not close to

• Has a scar of his left shoulder from a fight he was in with Habit

• Avoids Alex Kralie

• Pretty good friends with Vinnie

• Best friends with Kevin

• Mostly hangs with Kevin and Milo

• Likes old video games

• Would like to hang out more with Evan but doesn't to avoid Habit

• Very confused by Micheal and Patrick

• Judges people he's known for a long time without ever really talking to them

• Not as socially aware as he would like to think he is

Milo

Senior

• Noah's cousin

• Best friends with Kevin

• Literally can't stand his mom

• Can't figure out why Karl hates him but knows it has something to do with his mom

• Camera shy

• Keeps a journal

• Takes art classes but doesn't plan on pursuing it as a career

• Has struggled with on and off Depression as well as anxiety for the majority of his life

• Sleep walks

• On a lot of meds

Kevin

Junior

• Wants to be a game developer

• Hosts a coding club after school on Friday's

• Enjoys memes, probably quotes them a bit too often

• Best friends with Milo and Noah

• Keeps trying to convince Milo to be the artist for his games

• Can't see anything without his glasses

• In orchestra, plays the cello

• Super involved in school activities and organizations

• Tutors kids after school, including Micheal

• Has never met Habit and fully plans on keeping it that way

• Has talked to Jessica once or twice, would like to get to know her more

Mary

PTA Parent

• The overly involved PTA mom

• Very controlling of Milo

• Thinks Noah and Kevin are bad influences on her son

• Probably juggling multiple men at once

Karl

Teacher

• The advanced German teacher

• Very agressive

• Doesn't speak any English

• Tells old war stories

• Will fail you for even the most minor mistakes

• Has a grudge against Milo

• No one knows his full name

#slenderverse #slenderverse au #slenderverse highschool au #character description #long post #lots of text #sorry for how long this is #emh #everymanhybrid #tribetwelve #t12 #marble hornets #mh #to be continued #feel free to ask questions

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tcmpcral · 5 years

Text

full name. basil

pronunciation. technically BAY-zil but my dumb disney-loving brain defaults to BA-zil lmao nicknames. dumbass, dumb as ass (these are, of course, all lovingly given to him by his brothers) titles. basil the kicker, ‘our kicking basil’ courtesy of roh height. 5′11-6″

age. 23ish

zodiac. leo languages. whatever language they speak on his planet plus a few others

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour. red, white eye colour. black with yellow sclera skin tone. body type. very athletic and toned, but a little bit wiry tbh accent. like majora below, he’d technically have one to an earthling’s ear, but they wouldn’t be able to place it dominant hand. left posture. confident. has a definite swagger to his gait, and he sometimes tends to lean on one hip when he stands. other times, he simply has a very open, fearless stance scars. what scars he has are covered by fur tattoos. none most noticeable features. the fact he aint got no clothes on >:u possibly his doe eyes, which gives him a markedly more ‘innocent’-looking expression compared with his brothers

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. currently unnamed planet in U9 hometown. an overpopulated city where it was easy for him and his brothers to ‘disappear’ quite often from under ‘human services’ noses birth weight / height. he has no idea manner of birth. just. the usual, i guess :v first words. it was probably something like ‘bermo’ which was his babyish way of saying ‘bergamo’ lmao siblings. lavender, older brother, bergamo, oldest brother parents. his father died at some point before he was born, so he has no memories of him. his mother either died or was separated from the three around the time basil was one to two years old (which means i need to edit A Thing i wrote recently rip), so his memories of her are fuzzy and nondescript parental involvement. he was loved by his mother and treated overtly affectionately by her from the time he was born-- however, his time with her was short. from her disappearance on, he was raised by his older brothers, who did their best of course, but likely fell short in various ways

ADULT LIFE

occupation. ??? whatever it is, it’s not fully legal current residence. a small apartment with his brothers. thanks to a certain god’s influence, it’s a little more luxurious on the inside than one might expect based on its outward appearance close friends. uhhh. his brothers. minca, at one point. and probably again eventually. otherwise, he has various. uh. basically casual drinking buddies, so i’m not sure he’d consider them close relationship status. single financial status. it’s okay. paycheck to paycheck, but. again, thanks to a certain god, he and his brothers are able to live rather comfortably driver’s license. unfortunately, yes criminal record. Yes vices. impulsive, short-tempered, has a tendency to be irreverent without entirely meaning to (not that he’s not Trying to be, just that he’s not thinking about it), lacks common sense a lot

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. he personally identifies as heterosexual but tbh it’s bc he’s only had one girlfriend and hasn’t really thought about his sexuality in great depth. i could honestly see him being bisexual romantic orientation. ??? preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch | unsure preferred sexual role. submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed libido. h-hahaa er. High turn ons. i don’t. know yet tbh turn offs. anything too Out There love language. how do i. explain it. it’s not affectionate exactly, but it would be very obvious to his partner that he likes them, bc there’d be signs like his face lighting up whenever he spotted them in a room, or the fact that he invites them to go with him everywhere, that he’d rather spend time with them than with his drinking buddies, etc. he doesn’t actually do a lot of PDA, i think, bc i tend to see him as being a little more immature than that tbh, but there’d definitely be signs of affection and. adoration there relationship tendencies. basil, at this point in his life, just wants someone he can have fun with. he doesn’t want commitment, he doesn’t want to think about the future (unless it involves daydreaming about visiting cool places)-- all he cares about is the now, and how he can have fun in the now. as such, he’s drawn toward those with like values and desires, and would be turned off by someone who seemed intent on ‘changing him into a better man’ or something similar

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. here we go again, renegades hobbies to pass the time. sparring/fighting, drinking, parties, tagging along with his brothers, causing mischief mental illnesses. avoidant behaviors but lbr mostly none physical illnesses. none left or right brained. right-brained fears. failure, disappointing his brothers, losing his brothers, embarrassing himself in a way he can’t Come Back From self-confidence level. ehh, tbh, it’s mostly high. he probably gets down on himself at times when he thinks he’s done something exceedingly stupid, but for the most part, he thinks pretty highly of himself vulnerabilities. don’t. don’t pull his tail, that hurts. his loyalty to his brothers, the secret feelings he keeps to himself about his childhood if anyone ever figured them out tbh, his fears that he really is kind of dumb

full name. majora pronunciation. MAH-zheruh nicknames. nurse baobei (an old one from shosa that majora absolutely hates to be called in public these days. not that he. loved it to begin with) titles. has an officer’s rank of some kind? does that count height. 5′8ish

age. Advanced (TM) no sorry i just haven’t decided how he ages compared to humans yet :v

zodiac. capricorn n/a languages. whatever language his planet/region uses, as well as a few neighboring ones

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour. olive green, white eye colour. ???? skin tone. body type. slender, slim, but toned. certain joints like his wrists and ankles are very thin and frail-looking, however accent. he’d have one to an earthling’s ear, but it’d be hard to place dominant hand. right posture. generally straight, tho sometimes a little slouchy just bc he’s tired. while he was a military nurse, he wasn’t required to complete any kind of military training, so he doesn’t have the perhaps expected ‘soldier posture’ scars. what scars he does have are easily hidden by fur. has a scar on his upper abdomen leftover from a splenectomy tattoos. none most noticeable features. his ears are huuuuge

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. some planet in U4 lmao hometown. a currently unnamed city on the coast. presently lives in a mountainous region in the northern part of the country/planet he lives on birth weight / height. ~6 pounds, ~19 inches manner of birth. something akin to twilight sleep first words. it was ‘pig’ bc he witnessed one of his older sisters calling another child the term as an insult siblings. four other siblings (two older sisters, one younger sister, one younger brother is the baby. he is the third oldest of five, right smack dab in the middle). his eldest sister is deceased. he is mostly estranged from the others and only sees them occasionally throughout the year parents. Mother: jima Father: rougu, i haven’t quite decided what it was that they did just yet but whatever it was left them rather well-off financially, enough so that they were able to allow their children to pursue whatever interests and hobbies they desired (assuming they were proper, of course). their beliefs were steeped in traditions and conventional wisdom, and these are what majora grew up with and probably still to some degree practices to this day parental involvement. somewhat negligent once he hit a certain age and was capable of helping with younger siblings and household chores, etc. his parents never were particularly affectionate with him, tho they encouraged certain interests of his (...martial arts, mostly) while discouraging others they felt tarnished his (read: their) reputation. this was especially true as he grew into his preteen and teen years and began showing behaviors they didn’t like

ADULT LIFE

occupation. retired; former nurse current residence. lives in a communal apartment setup. he lives at the end of the hall, is able to claim he has the largest room of the floor, and also has a nice little balcony attached to his room as well that he shares with the newly-married couple who live in the room next to him (who i’ve named chuan and cori). he’s quite fond of his living arrangement, despite what he may occasionally say otherwise close friends. ..........shosa. that’s it. that’s literally it relationship status. single financial status. he survives on retiree and disability benefits........ but altogether, it’s not bad driver’s license. doesn’t need one. both. bc the city he lives in is compact enough to be able to walk everywhere and bc. Blind lmao criminal record. lots of curfew and truancy violations as a teen fjfiea;g vices. proud, aloof, withdrawn, set in his ways, stubborn, self-sabotaging

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. generally identifies as homosexual romantic orientation. homoromantic probably preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch | unsure preferred sexual role. submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed libido. middles toward low, even when coupled, but he’s not repulsed by any means turn ons. ....like basil i’m. not entirely sure yet turn offs. treating him like a doll?? does that make sense, listen he might like to dress up but don’t treat him like a mannequin. and don’t take advantage of the fact that he can’t see what he’s putting on, that should be obvious. Anything without his permission, ignoring his discomfort if it comes up, not letting him know what you’re doing before you do it gdi love language. kinda stiff and awkward in the beginning, but he softens up soon enough. he never does get to be the type who is outwardly affectionate and forthcoming about his feelings, and particularly in public, will seem very distant and cool to his partner, but he is definitely the sort to enjoy being around a partner and seek their company quite often, whether it’s to accompany them about the town or simply to relax at home

relationship tendencies. truthfully, romance just isn’t on his mind much these days, but he’s always gravitated toward those that he could spend time with and not necessarily worry all the time. he’s not like basil and wants only to live in the present, but he does need something or someone to ground him in the present, or he thinks himself into a nervous frenzy about the future, particularly nowadays at his age and at his level of dependence on others. he worries occasionally that he’s too much of a burden, and that his efforts to decrease his status as a burden only exacerbate it

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. cleopatra hobbies to pass the time. fishing, listening to music/the radio, playing music occasionally (usually when he’s been left in charge of kids and they’re being little hellions rip), going to see plays and operas (even if he can’t appreciate the sets or costumes anymore, he can still enjoy the stories and acting, he supposes) mental illnesses. none tbh physical illnesses. some kind of anemia (think pernicious anemia), which results in fatigue and body aches, compromised immune system left or right brained. left-brained mostly fears. death, losing another sense, various small fears related to his blindness and his resulting vulnerability, being helpless/a burden, convalescent homes self-confidence level. relatively high to moderate while he keeps his independence. when he makes mistakes or otherwise flubs up bc of his blindness, it tends to crash a little vulnerabilities. his fear of both dying and debility/helplessness, frequent refusal to accept help, obviously he. uh. can’t see, tho his other senses help him out to some degree there,

#bas;; dash games #maj;; dash games #THIS TOOK ME SO LONG GOD PLS JUST TAKE IT FROM ME

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