#somebody should patch that next update
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if i had a nickel for every time beloved fictional characters sacrificed themselves to save others this week, i would have two nickels- which isnt a lot but its sad that its happened twice
#critical role#cr spoilers#x men 97#x men spoilers#bumble chirps#i have cried#SO MUCH this week#also its such bs that crying can give you headaches lmao#somebody should patch that next update#HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP AFTER THAT
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hoax ~ p.p
chapter nine: the night we met
series masterlist
At 5:30, after changing your outfit several times and putting on the perfume you were wearing the day you first encountered Peters alter ego, you went downstairs to wait outside your dorm. It was a little early, a lot actually, but you were too anxious to just sit around in your room. You said bye to MJ and promised to text her with updates before you left.
After waiting on the dorm steps for a few minutes, a guy a couple years older than you started walking towards you. You pulled out your phone but kept your eye on him as he got closer and closer. Once he was near you, you turned your back on him and pretended to look busy so that he wouldn’t talk to you.
“Excuse me, are you Y/n L/n?” He said, making you turn around in surprise.
“Um, no. Sorry. Not me.” You smiled tightly and turned around again.
“You’re a friend of Spiderman, aren’t you?” He continued. You froze and started to type out a text to MJ that she needed to come outside. You thought you hit “send”, but you didn’t.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” You played dumb.
“You should probably come with me.” The man said and took a step closer to you. He sounded more concerned than threatening, but you still felt fear.
“I’m waiting for somebody. He’s going to be here any minute. And my roommate knows I’m waiting out here, so.” You said to subtly let the man know that if you went missing, people would know right away.
“No, I know. Spiderman, right? He got held up. But I can take you to him, if you want.” The man said, making you frown.
“Held up where?”
“There was a robbery down the block. He got hurt pretty badly.”
“He got hurt? Where is he?” You asked and put your phone in your back pocket.
“Follow me. I’ll show you.” He said and motioned for you to walk with him. You were so worried about Peter that you took a step forward, then came to your senses.
“I can’t. I’m just going to wait for him here.” You said and took a step back from the man.
“Sweetheart, he’s not coming. But he told me to come get you. He said a girl named Y/n is waiting for him outside her dorm and that I needed to find her so she could help. He said you’ve patched him up before. He described you and everything.” The man replied. The man had known your name and that you’ve patched Peters wounds up in the past, which made you want to believe his story.
“Where did you say he was?” You asked skeptically.
“He’s right down here. Follow me.” The man said. You looked back up at your dorm before sighing and following the man. Something in your gut was telling you to turn around, but you didn’t listen to it. If Peter really was hurt, he needed you to be brave and go find him.
“Go right down there. You won’t be able to miss him.” The man instructed as he pointed ahead of you. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up but kept walking while the man hung back next to a black van.
“I don’t see anything. Are you sure he didn’t leave?” You asked and turned around.
“He’s there. Use your flashlight. It’s dark.” The man instructed. You pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight to shine it down the alleyway. Your phone was suddenly grabbed out of your hand and smashed onto the ground, rendering it unusable.
Right as your head turned to see who had smashed it, the man slammed his hand over your mouth and wrapped his free arm around your waist. He lifted you up and threw you into the back of his van before slamming the door. When he climbed into the front seat, you opened your mouth to call for help but were instead met with a flashlight to the head that knocked you unconscious.
Back in present time, all your friends were getting your voicemail as their texts went undelivered. A silence settled over the group after a few minutes of failing to get in touch with you. No one wanted to say it, but everyone was imagining a worst case scenario.
“Okay, let’s not freak out. She could’ve just crashed at her parents apartments and turned her phone off.” Kate said to calm every down.
“Without telling any of us?” Gwen said skeptically. Peter rubbed his face with his hands and felt himself getting closer to freaking out by the second.
“We don’t know what happened.” Kate said calmly. “We shouldn’t panic until there is something to panic about.”
“I’ll give you something to panic about.” MJ spoke up. “She left half an hour early because she was so eager to talk to Peter. She fixed her hair a hundred times, changed her clothes, paced the floor, the whole bit. Why would she do all that just to ditch and go to her parents place?”
Everyone was silent as they realized MJ was right. As much as they hoped you were just sleeping through your alarm at your parents place, they all knew that probably wasn’t what happened.
“If she didn’t ditch, where the hell is she?” Gwen asked slowly.
“Hang on. Her location is still on. It says she’s just down the road from her dorm.” Kate said and showed everyone your location on her phone.
“Is she moving?” Gwen asked. Kate looked down at her phone again to check when your location last updated. Everyone watched her face go pale as her eyes slowly looked away.
“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.
“It says she hasn’t moved since 5:40 last night.” Kate said quietly.
“You don’t think…” Ned trailed off when everyone gave him a look. All at once, everyone got up from the table and ran out of the building. They all went to your last known location, which was just a block from your dorm. Peter was the first to find your smashed phone on the ground. He picked it up and fell to his knees as he stared blankly ahead.
“This is my fault.” Peter said as his voice cracked.
“Just because she was waiting for you when this happened doesn’t mean it’s your fault.” Gwen said and rubbed Peters back. Peter and Ned made eye contact and Ned nodded his head. Peter then looked at MJ and she did the same.
“It is.” Peter insisted. “I know it is.”
“What do you mean, Peter?” Gwen asked. Peter looked at Ned and MJ one more time before taking a deep breath.
“She was taken because I’m Spiderman.” Peter said finally. “Whoever took her must’ve done it to hurt me.”
“Ohhhhhhh.” Kate and Gwen said in unison as suddenly, everything made sense.
When you woke up, you were sitting in a chair in the back of the black van you had been thrown into. The can wasn’t moving anymore and you could not see the man who took you. You tried to stand up and realized your ankles had been tied to the legs of the chair. You started to panic and looked around for anything within reach that could help you. You didn’t see any weapons, but you did notice that the van had a police radio in the corner. It looked similar enough to the one Peter owned that he had once shown you how to use.
“Oh good. You’re awake.” The man’s voice came from behind you, making you jump.
“You need to let me go.” You said as you turned your head to look at him.
“It’s funny. I didn’t know Spiderman was even allowed to have a girlfriend.” The man chuckled he tightened the restraints around your wrists. Your stomach sank as you realized Peters worst fear had come true. Someone had finally went after you because of your relationship.
“We broke up.” You said quietly and winced from the pain of your throbbing head.
“Yeah, I had a feeling. I gave it some time in case he was just busy destroying other peoples lives, but after two months of not seeing him walk you home, I figured you guys broke up. It was the perfect time to go after you because I knew he wouldn’t be there to protect you.” The man said as he circled around you. You felt a chill go down your spine over what the man was saying. You had no idea you were being watching for that long and wondered what Peter wasn’t going to be there to “protect” you from.
“What do you want with me?” You asked him. The man laughed and bent down in front of you, giving you a better look of his face. He look around late twenties early thirties but was not aging well. His black hair had been combed in a strange way in an attempt to cover up his receding hairline.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” He asked with an angry laugh. You studied his face but shook your head when you were sure you’d never seen him.
“Yeah, didn’t think so.” He sighed in annoyance and started to walk around your chair in a circle.
“My name is Aaron Davis. Five months ago, I was driving down the same road I use everyday to get home from work. Was I going the speed limit? No. I wasn’t. But only ten miles or so above it. You know how strict school zones can be.” Aaron said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And before you judge me, sweetheart, we both know you haven’t looked at a speed limit sign since your road test, so don’t bother.”
“What does any of that have to do with me?”
“I’m glad you asked.” He smirked and walked over to the wall of the van. Aaron shone his flashlight over a newspaper article that he had taped up. You squinted your eyes to see the headline and felt your stomach sink once you read it.
“Spiderman saves college student from near collision, driver involved arrested.” The headline read. Below the headline was a picture of you in Spider-Man’s arms.
“On my way home that day, you decided to walk into the street without so much as lifting your head from your phone. Before I could slam on my breaks to stop myself from running you over, Spiderman swoops in and stops my car.”
“You were the driver that almost hit me that day?” Your jaw dropped as you stared at the man.
That’s when you noticed that he had just about every article written about the situation taped up on his van wall. There were photos of you were circled in red sharpie. The name of your college was also circled in an article that talked about where the accident happened. In collection with all the articles were photos that you could only assume the man took himself. Photos of you walking home with Peter, photos of you outside your dorm, and photos of just you crossing the street.
“Smart girl. Good job keeping up.” Aaron smirked and patted your cheek. You moved away from him in disgust and gave him a dirty look.
“While you were getting whisked away by Spiderman for the very first time, I was getting my license suspending for speeding. The cops cut my license in half in front of everyone. It was humiliating. But nobody would’ve even noticed what happened if Spiderman hadn’t been there. He made a spectacle of the situation. Even if you had so carelessly walked into the street the way you did, and I slammed on my breaks to stop, we could’ve just apologized to each other and moved on with our lives. But no. Spiderman had to save the day and bring attention to the scene. That’s why the police were called. And if they hadn’t been called, I wouldn’t have lost my license and spent a night in jail. I have a criminal record now because of you two.” Aaron said as he angrily gripped your shoulders. You gasped in surprise at him grabbing you and stared into his eyes. He was shaking with rage and you could tell he had thought long and hard about this situation. But the longer he stared at you, the funnier the situation felt. A laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it and once that one slipped out, you couldn’t stop. You kept your head down so he wouldn’t see that you were cracking up.
“Damn. Not me getting kidnapped and held hostage.” You mumbled.
“What was that?” He asked angrily.
“Nothing. Sorry.” You said through a laugh.
“Are you laughing?” He asked in shock. “You think this is funny?”
“I mean, kinda?” You admitted. “I’m sorry, but that’s the dumbest villain origin story I’ve ever heard. You seriously stalked and kidnapped me because you’re a bad driver and lost your license?”
“I’m not a bad driver. You’re a bad pedestrian!” He snapped. “I have a few DUI’s sure, but who doesn’t? Nearly hitting you was the final straw and if you had bothered to look up for even a second that day, my life would not have gotten ruined.”
“It’s sucks you can’t drive anymore but I don’t really think that can really ruin a life.” You shrugged, only making him madder.
“Oh yeah?” He said mockingly. “Well did you know it was my dads car? And when he saw the damage that Spiderman did to it, he was so mad that he stopped speaking to me. And when my mom found out I was in jail and had to be bailed out, she was so embarrassed that she stopped speaking to me too. So I was out a car and my parents support.”
“Dude, I know like 10 people off the top of my head who don’t have a car and don’t get support from their parents. That’s pretty common and very much not life ruining.” You replied. When Aaron realized you didn’t feel bad for him yet, he grew angrier and more determined to win your sympathy.
“Well did you also know that I had to take the bus to work the next day? Mhm. Yeah, I did. But don’t worry, I never had to do that again because when my boss saw the viral video of Spiderman saving you, he fired me. He said a footage of me nearly killing a college kid wouldn’t reflect well on the company. I lost my job because of you!”
“Whomp, whomp. I take the bus all the time.” You shrugged. “So do a lot of people in New York. And no offense, but I’m on your bosses side there. That video of you speeding was everywhere. How could you expect him to continue to let you work there?”
“Okay, well, if that didn’t impress you, how about this?” He smiled tightly as he lost his patience. “When I went home that day after being fired to get a little sympathy from my girlfriend, she tells me she’s leaving me. Apparently, she didn’t want to date a carless, jobless loser who was all over the Internet and news for nearly killing a sweet little angel like yourself. She kicked me out of our apartment. I had to use my severance pay to buy this rusty old van so I could live in it.”
“You do realize you can just get a new job and a new girlfriend, right? You already got a new car. You should’ve been working on replacing the other things you lost instead of stalking me.”
“No I can’t. And it’s all your fault. No one will hire me because of my criminal record, your fault. And girls won’t date me because when they Google my name, the video comes up. Also your fault.”
“Right. That’s why girls won’t date you.” You mumbled.
“What was that?”
“I said that I’m pretty sure all those things are your fault.” You replied. “I wasn’t the one speeding. Neither was Spiderman. You got yourself in this predicament.”
“No! You got me in this predicament! You didn’t look up when you crossed the street!” He shouted. “And you know what really grinds my gears? How come no one bothered to ask why was the sweet little college kid crossing the street when the walk sign wasn’t on? Everyone took your side without even considering that it was your fault I almost hit you in the first place.”
You stared at him for a minute after his little outburst and started to laugh again. You held it in as best as you could but you found the whole situation too silly to be serious.
“I’m sorry, but I have never seen someone so passionate about a walk sign.” You laughed.
“You ruined my life!” He screeched. “You crossed the street that day without looking both ways and it ruined my life. And when I finally get a hold of you to confront you, you laugh in my face?”
“Okay, look, I’m sorry I didn’t look both ways that way.” You said sincerely. “But holding me hostage isn’t going to get your job or your parents or girlfriend back. It’s just going to get you into more trouble.”
“No it’s not. Because I’m not going to get caught.” He said with a smug smile. You dropped your smile and felt chills go down your spine.
“Get caught doing what?” You asked quietly.
“You know, you were so easy to track down. You’re really not observant, are you? Every time you took those walks with Spiderman, I followed you. I learned all the details I needed to know. When your classes ended, where you lived, where you liked to hang out. You were always too wrapped up with your little boyfriend to notice me. And even after you guys broke up and he stopped walking you home, you still never looked around. You put your headphones in and kept your head down. Some days, I was right beside you and you never even noticed.”
“Oh God.” You whispered and felt the fear creep back in. You no longer found the situation funny. You assumed Aaron was just some crazy daddy’s boy who wanted to scare you but wasn’t actually going to do anything. But now, you feared he was capable of much worse. Aaron noticed you had lost your sense of humor and smirked. He gripped your shoulders and bent down to stare you in the face.
“The other day, I saw you crossing the street without looking up. The walk sign wasn’t on but you still went. That’s when I knew you hadn’t learned your lesson, and it was my job to teach it to you.” He said with an eerie smile.
“Don’t you think this is a little extreme over a walk sign?” You laughed nervously.
“It’s not about the walk sign. This is about you ruining my life and getting away with it. Why should you get to be happy when I’m not? Why should you get to be in a happy relationship with the guy who helped you ruin my life?”
“But I’m not happy. I’m not even dating him anymore.” You desperately reminded him.
“But you were. And it’s both of your faults that I lost everything.”
“Then why didn’t you take him too?” You wondered.
“Do I look like someone who knows how to kidnap Spiderman?” Aaron asked you, making you stifle a laugh. He was three times smaller than Peter and clearly did not stand a chance against him.
“I guess not.” You answered honestly.
“You were the easy target.” He shrugged. “And I need you in order to ruin Spider-Man’s life.”
“Why? What are you planning to do?” You asked as Aaron walked over to his wall of articles. He tapped one of them before letting out a short laugh.
“You know what I’m wondering? How come I never saw you with another guy? I’ve been watching you for months now, sweetheart. I saw you with Spiderman every night but never any regular guys. Didn’t you ever go out with him when he wasn’t in the costume?”
“No.” You lied. “I never knew who he was under the mask.”
“What?” He asked skeptically. “There’s no way. You had to have known.”
“Nope. I never did. If I knew him, you would’ve seen me with him, wouldn’t you?” You tried to use logic to make him believe you even though you very much knew who was under the mask.
“Maybe.” Aaron agreed. “Or maybe he’s just really good at keeping his identity a secret.”
You gulped and looked away as Aaron got closer to you. He cupped your chin and made you look at him.
“Are you good at keeping secrets?” He asked you.
“I’m gonna keep it real with you. No.” You answered honestly. Aaron smirked and went back over to his wall.
“This is what’s going to happen. An eye for an eye, okay? You ruined my life, so I’m going to ruin you and your boyfriends life.“
“How?”
“All that vigilante shit your boyfriend does is illegal. Did you know that?”
“Did you mean to quote Taylor Swift just now or was that an acci-“
You were cut off by a sharp smack to the face. You gasped after not expecting him to actually hurt you.
“In the state of New York, it is illegal to act as law enforcement without legal authority to do so. And I’m willing to bet your boyfriend never got authorized to swing around in his little tights and shoot webs at people.”
“Wow, that’s really interesting.” You said sarcastically. “Do you know what else is illegal? Speeding, kidnapping, holding someone against their will, stalking-“
“Shut up and let me talk.” He whined and stamped his feet like a little kid. He then ran his hands through his comb over and sighed.
“If I expose his identity to the world, he will be arrested for his vigilanteism and get thrown in jail with all the guys he put in there. And those guys are big, mean, and have nothing left to lose. Without his stupid costume or fancy webs, he won’t last a day. I’ll get my revenge without lifting a finger. And his life will be ruined the way he ruined mine.”
“And you built this master plan off the assumption I know his identity? Because I don’t.”
“I know you know.“ He snapped.
“Nope. We broke up because of he wouldn’t tell me who he was.” You lied to him.
“Why are you still protecting him?” Aaron asked you. “He doesn’t care about you. You’ve been missing for over 12 hours now and no one has looked for you. I bet he’s off somewhere right now and you’re not even on his mind.”
Elsewhere, you were the only thing on Peters mind. He was exercising every possibly resource he could think of to find you.
“She was here. Her footprints end here. That means she was either carried off by a massive bird or someone threw her in a van.” Tony said as he scanned the sidewalk Peter had brought him to. Your friends were standing back in awe and watching Iron Man and Peter, now clad in his suit, work the case.
“Exposing his identity will ruin his life but what about me? I did just as much damage, didn’t I? How will you ruin me?” You asked to change the subject before he grilled you too hard.
“Don’t worry. I have special plans for you.” Aaron said and rubbed his hands together. “Once I expose Spider-Man’s identity, you and I are going to take a drive in this very van. You’re going to go 100 miles in a school zone. And when the police pull you over, you’ll get charged with speeding, stealing my car, and being an accessory to the illegal vigilanteism Spiderman was conducting. That’s a whole lot of jail time, college kid. Your life will be ruined before it begins. You will lose the scholarship I know you have, get kicked out of school, become a disgrace to your parents just like I did, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll start turning your head when you cross the street.”
The van was silent as Aaron’s plan set in. He stared at you and waited for you to beg for mercy or comment on how great of a plan that was. Instead, you blew a raspberry before cracking up. His jaw dropped as you threw your head back laughing.
“That’s your plan? Grand theft auto? That’s the stupidest fucking plan I have ever heard. Oh my God. I’m dead. You cannot be serious.”
“I’m dead serious.” Aaron said as he pressed a gun to your forehead. All your laughter ceased immediately.
“You’re sure the car went this way?” Peter asked into the intercom as he swung behind Tony.
“Tire marks are for sure heading this way. It looks like whoever took her drives one of those cars with four back tires.” Tony replied and continued flying along the tire tracks that Aaron’s car had left.
“I hate those cars.” Peter grumped. “They’re so wide.”
“Bad news, kid. The tire tracks stop here. He must’ve stopped speeding.” Tony said and landed on the street. Peter landed as well and sat down in defeat.
“What do we do?” He asked desperately.
Back in the van, after going back and forth for several minutes about Spidermans identity, you managed to convince Aaron that you really didn’t know it. He was starting to spiral now that his plan was going the way he imagined and slowly became more unhinged. You’d seen enough episodes of Criminal Minds to know that once the unsub started to spiral, they also started to make careless mistakes. And once he started making mistakes, you had a better shot of freeing yourself.
After giving up on exposing Spiderman first, Aaron left you in the back of the van and drove to a school zone so that he could execute the second part of his plan. You could see the top of his head through a tiny window at the top of the van wall and decided to execute your plan as well.
“Fuck this.” You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself backwards as hard as you could. The chair fell back and broke under you, just like you’d seen the the movies. You were able to slip your ankles out of the rope he had tied around them now that the chair was broken but you had no way of freeing your arms. You quietly got up and went over the the police radio you had spotted before. Next to it was a pad of paper that had the time and location of multiple Spiderman sightings written down.
“Weirdo.” You mumbled before biting the cord and pulling it so that the speaker part came loose. You pressed a random button with your nose and heard feedback come through.
“Peter?” You asked into it.
“Nah, this is Big Larry.” Some guy answered.
“Damn it. A trucker.” You whispered to yourself and pressed another button.
“Peter?” You asked again.
“I’m sorry, the old Taylor can’t come-“
“Not who I need right now.” You sighed and pressed another button. “Peter? Is that you?”
“Y/n? Is that you?” Peters voice whispered through the radio.
“It’s me.”
“Oh my God! Hi honey!” Peter said excitedly. “I mean, Y/n. Sorry. Oh my God. Mr. Stark, I got her! She’s on the radio. Oh my God, I’m so happy to hear your voice. I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ve been looking for you all day. Iron Man is helping me. Don’t worry. We’re gonna get to you soon, okay? I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. Unless something had already happened. Then I’m really sorry and I’m gonna kill whoever did it. That’s a joke. Not really. I’m actually gonna kill them. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. I just need to get out of here.”
“Ask her where she is.” Tony instructed.
“Right. Good call. Where are you?” Peter asked you.
“I’m in some big ass black van.” You told him. “But we’re moving. He said he was going to take me to a school zone.”
“A school zone? Why?”
“Because the guy who took me wants to expose your identity and he wants me to get arrested for speeding.” You explained.
“Arrested for speeding? What? Why?” Peter laughed at the strange plan.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when you get me. Can you look this guy up? His name is Aaron Davis. He said he had a criminal record so his information should be online. He moved so his address isn’t accurate but his phone number should be the same. Look for schools in his old area code because he’s probably taking me to one near where he used to live.” You said into the radio. Peter and Tony were silent for a moment and they processed what you were saying.
“Did your girlfriend just solve her own disappearance?” Tony asked. Peter smiled proudly and nodded his head.
“Yeah, she did. Are you looking for schools in his area code?” Peter asked Tony.
“Yep. And I’m only seeing once. Let’s move.”
“Honey, I’ll be right there, okay? We’re on our way. Hang tight.” Peter said into the radio.
“See you soon.” You whispered just as the van came to a stop. You quickly put the radio down and got up off the floor. The doors to the van flew open and Aaron was standing there with his gun in his hand.
“You broke my chair?” He asked angrily.
“It was an accident.” You lied. “You were driving too fast. I hit the wall when you turned the corner and it broke.”
“Are you using my radio?” He asked and pointed to the police radio. You looked down at it and quickly shook your head.
“No.” You said as your eyes darted to the side. Aaron didn’t like that answer and slowly made his way towards you.
“So you use my radio without asking permission and you break my only chair? And then lie to me about it? I can wipe down the radio, but what am I supposed to do about the chair?”
“I’ll buy you another one.” Peter said from behind him, making Aaron turn around in surprise.
“What? Spiderman?! How did you find us?” Aaron asked just as Tony dropped down beside Peter.
“Your wide ass car.” Tony replied before blasting Aaron in the chest. The gun flew into the air as Aaron’s body went limp, so Peter shot a web at it and stuck it to the wall. He then ran to you and untied you with ease.
“Are you okay? Did he touch you? If he hurt you, he’s a deadman.” Peter said as he cupped your face to inspect it for any cuts. He found the wound on your forehead from getting hit with the flashlight and nearly activated Instant Kill. Once your arms were free, you threw them around Peters neck and hugged him tightly. Peter hugged you back and let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m okay. I swear. He smacked me and hit me with a flashlight but it wasn’t so bad. He’s just really weird and obsessed with the walk sign.” You said into his ear.
“Wait, what?” Peter asked as he snapped out of it.
“I’ll tell you later.” You replied as Peter helped you stand up. Tony had been listened to your conversation and slowly turned to Aaron.
“You smacked that little girl?” Tony asked and pointed over his shoulder at you.
“She was laughing at me.” Aaron weakly defended himself. Tony grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground.
“You think it’s okay to smack girls? How about I smack you into the next borough? How about that? Better yet, I’ll smack you all the way into Long Island. Maybe that will teach you not to put your hands on women.” Tony threatened.
“No, please.” Aaron whimpered. “Long Island is disgusting.”
“So true.” You agreed.
The police arrived on the scene just in time and Tony turned Aaron over to them. Peter helped you out of the back of the van and brought you over to the ambulance. He sat beside you on the back of the ambulance rig as you got your injuries checked out.
“No! Why should you be happy? You don’t deserve it.” Aaron shouted at you and Peter as he was shoved into the back of a police car.
“Seriously, who is this guy?” Peter wondered and slung a protective arm around you to block you from Aaron’s view.
“Remember when I almost got hit by a car on the day we “met”?” You reminded Peter. Peters eyes widened and he looked at Aaron again when he realized what you were saying.
“No way. That’s the guy who took you? Talk about a callback.” Peter chuckled in disbelief.
“I know, right? Who would’ve guessed?” You laughed as well and leaned into him. It felt good to be with Peter after two months without him, and you especially needed it now. You snuggled into his side as Tony approached you.
“Glad your girlfriend is safe, kid. And don’t worry, that guy won’t be bothering you again. I asked my team to install some more security cameras around your dorm so you don’t have anymore middle aged weirdos hanging around it. And if you agree, I’d like to place a tracker in your phone. Just for emergencies. I don’t think something like this will happen again, but I think it would make me and Peter rest a lot easier if we had a way to know you were safe.” Tony said as he warmly shook your hand. You smiled in appreciation and nodded.
“That’s totally fine.” You told him.
“Thanks a bunch, kid. And Peter mentioned your phone got smashed so take this one. It’s a Stark original. And it already has a tracker in it.” Tony said as he handed you a new phone. You lit up in surprise and graciously accepted the phone.
“All my favorite songs are on here.” You smiled happily when you realized.
“Yeah. He talks about you a lot.” Tony said and nodded towards Peter. You looked at Peter fondly before wrapped your arm around him.
“Thank you, Mr. Iron Man sir.”
“Anytime. I’ll leave you guys to it.” Tony winked at you before closing the helmet of his suit and flew away.
“You got Iron Man to come rescue me?” You asked and playfully punched Peters arm.
“I had to pull out the big guns.” He smiled shyly under his mask. You wanted to pull the mask off and kiss him, but the police interrupted you.
“Hi, miss. We need your statement.” An officer said to you. You nodded and explained the story from start to finish.
“Basically, he was just really corny.” You said once you finished explaining what happened.
“You haven’t seen the last of me. I’ll be back. I always come back.” Aaron called out the cop car window.
“What kind of cartoony ass villain is this?” Peter whispered to you, making you laugh.
“I think he’s trying to have a cool exit.”
“You’ll rue this day! You hear me? You’ll rue it!” Aaron shouted at you as the police car took him back to jail.
“Rue? What show is that from?” Peter gasped when he heard the familiar phrase.
“Icarly.” You laughed and leaned into him.
“Right.” He nodded. You let your legs swing as you sat in comfortable silence. A doctor came by to stitch up your forehead and Peter held your hand the whole time. You were numbed, so it didn’t even hurt, but he still wanted to do it.
“Sorry I didn’t correct Mr. Stark when he called you my girlfriend.” Peter said quietly.
“It’s all right.” You shrugged. “That reminds me. We still need to talk.”
“Yeah. You stood me up last time.” Peter teased, making you playfully smack his arm.
“Sorry.” You said sarcastically. “I was a little busy.”
“It’s okay. I guess.” He humored you. You both laughed and when the laughter died down, you were left looking at each other. Neither of you felt that painful longing for the other anymore. Now it just felt easy to be near the other.
“Can you walk me back to my dorm? I need a thousand showers.” You said and rubbing your aching head.
“Walk?” Peter questioned.
You smiled when you picked up on what he was saying and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter then swung you back to your dorm in his arms, just like what you used to fantasize about.
🖤🕸️🖤
There will be one more chapter 🤗
Tag list 🏷️
@miwagila @gidgett11037 @hoetel-manager @deffnotnia
@uncle-eggy @freakofmusic25 @loveleesthings @katerinaval @tom-hollands-wifey
@helen-on-earth @amberpanda99 @freyaxx @xorderedkaosx @riordanness
@crxmxnzl-c0rpzes
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker x y/n#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x y/n
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So You Want to Mod Sims 4
I love playing the Sims, but quite frankly I find the gameplay in Sims 4 to be a bit empty and lacking. The base game is now free, but expansion packs are ridiculously overpriced and still do not add enough to really pique my interest. So I dove into the world of Sims 4 modding, and would now like to share my findings with you!
My intention is to make this as a guide for people starting modding. I won’t get into the technical details, as there’s a wonderful guides for those in many places such as this one by CarlSims, and a beautiful troubleshooting guide by SimsAfterDark. I’m just going to provide some suggestions of mods for you to get an idea of what’s out there and what you might be interested in!
The Basics
The Sims 4 actually has a fantastic modding community. If you’ve never modded games before Sims 4 isn’t that hard to figure out, and there’s plenty of tools and guides to help you along the way. Sims 4 is now connected with Curseforge, which is an app that you can download mods from, but there are plenty other places to find mods such as Mod The Sims and The Sims Resource; lots of modders also have their own custom websites, tumblrs, or patreons that they post mods on. There are plenty of Discord servers too; Sims After Dark is an especially helpful hub for modding.
Because mods are adding or changing code in the game, it is possible that your game will break or have some errors or bugs. This is why it’s reccomended that you back up your saves before making any changes, and clear your cache (there’s even a wonderful free app for that!).
According to EA’s terms and services, mods cannot be permanently locked behind a pay wall. There may be early access for mods, and if you can financially support one of your favourite creators feel free! But you should never need to pay for a mod; if there is VIP access it will eventually be publicly released.
Game patches or updates can break mods, as they might not be compatible with the new code. If you’re downloading a mod that has not been touched in years you may want to double check with the creator or other modders to make sure it’s still functional. Scarlet’s Mod List is the best resource I’ve found, as it lists a TON of mods and whether they’re broken, and updates with every new patch. You can also keep an eye out for blog posts and discord announcements, as active modders will usually check their mods and ensure that they’re up to date. Always read the information modders provide about their mod, as sometimes it will require specific packs or other mods, or conflict with other mods. Never download an entire mod folder from somebody else, as it’s important to understand what you’re putting in your game to keep it running.
Despite these warnings I absolutely recommend looking into mods if you’re at all interested. It’s up to you whether you just want to download a few new hairstyles or completely overhaul the gameplay, but its a great way to have a unique and engaging gaming experience!
Getting Started - Utility Mods and Essentials
There are a few mods that are so commonly used among the entire modding community that it’s nearly impossible to not use them. And in most cases this is because they’re incredibly useful! Foremost among these is MCCC, or MC Command Centre. This mod is basically a back window into the code of your sims game. It will allow you to cheat nearly any setting imaginable, from the age to career to relationships to the needs of any of your sims, and even NPC sims. There’s a ton of functionality in this mod that can seem a bit intimidating at first, but honestly even the most basic understanding of this mod will allow you to greatly enhance your gameplay. It will automatically fix a lot of bugs and help your game run smoother, and even will create bug reports that can help you find broken mods!
Next up we have Scumbumbo’s XML Injector. The majority of mods that change ANY aspect of your game will require this one, as the functionality is essential for adding new code to your game! You won’t notice any differences if you just have this one installed, but if you try installing anything else that requires it this is essential to keep your game working.
If you’re planning on downloading a lot of mods, Better Exceptions by Twisted Mexi is a brilliant tool that will scan your mods and create a full error report. It can find duplicate mods, zip folders and other weird files, and flag mods that conflict with each other; it will also allow you to read the error code from your game, if you really want to dig into modding. The error reports are longer than the ones created by MCCC, but they’re more comprehensive and can be a huge help.
Have you noticed your Sims game running a little slower? While some extra loading time is to be expected if you have a lot of mods or packs, there are also some very dumb bugs in the heart of the game code. If you’re fed up with your sims getting stuck and freezing, you need Turbodriver’s Simulation Unclogger. This mod is designed to stop a sim getting stuck and freezing the rest of the game, and I can’t imagine playing without it.
There are lots of smaller mods that add utility to your game when combined with other mods, like frankk’s pack tests and SashaT1804′s custom channel injector and MAL22′s Trait Tracker Injector, to name a few. You should ONLY download these mods if a creator instructs you it’s needed for their mod. Some creators will also have core libraries that contain code used in several of their mods, in which case you’ll need to download that to make sure everything functions. Always read the instructions before you download a mod to make sure you have everything you need!
All the mods listed here are fairly important to gameplay, and thus may have errors or break with patches BUT will also be very quickly updated, because so many modders depend on them! Unless it’s the day of a patch you can usually count on these mods to be up to date and compatible with your Sims 4 game.
CAS and BB: The Wonderful World of CC
Likely the easiest bunch of mods to install and maintain, there are a lot of mods that simply add Custom Content (CC) into your game. This can be anything from new hairstyles to new skin colours and eye colours, to new outfits and accessories, to furniture and toys and new wallpaper colours. You can find CC for nearly any kind of aesthetic or look, and CC also rarely breaks with patches so it can be easy to keep it all working smoothly. To help your CC adventures, here’s some commonly used terms:
Meshes make up the shape of every object you see in the Sims 4! Some CC will add a new mesh, such as a new hat or beanbag chair, but some will simply recolour an existing mesh, like adding new hair colours to base game hairs. These new colours and appearances are called swatches, and you can see them in game from all the different colour options! When you’re downloading CC it’s important to ensure that you have the required mesh. Some CC has the mesh included, or edits a basegame mesh, while some CC requires certain packs because they use the mesh from that pack. Some CC is designed to work with a mesh from a different creator, and simply adds different swatches to it; you will need to download both for the CC to work. Missing meshes will look very broken; fortunately it’s just a cosmetic error and is easy to spot and remove.
Alpha is an art style for CC that looks more realistic, and Maxis Match refers to the in game art style of the Sims 4. You can use whatever suits your preference, and even mix and match if you’d like! Many creators will specialize in one type of CC, so if you see them talking about “alpha hairs” or “MM shoes” this is what they mean. Alpha CC can sometimes have a high poly count, which basically means that it’ll be harder for your computer to run. While installing any mods you should be careful to not overtax your computer, and removing alpha CC and high poly CC can be an easy way to speed things up. But if your system can handle it go wild!
Some creators who make fantastic sets include Harrie, Syboulette, Dudley’s Trailer, marsmerizingsims, SIXAMCC, Peacemaker, amoebae, The Plumbob Tea Society, simkoos, and littledica, to name a few! There are literally hundreds of talented CC creators, so I encourage you to look around and see who you can find; I’ve literally just linked a few at the top of my bookmarks but I am absolutely missing some of my favourites, so please just take this as a starting point.
There can also be CC that will add entirely new interactions and animations to your game! This CC can come with other mods and is slightly more likely to need updates to patches, but also can add a lot. Pandasama has plenty of toys for toddlers and kids, Ravasheen has created everything from functional elevators to newspaper stands to vending machines, Cepzid With Hakrabr has barbells and a stun gun, and Mercuryfoam has functional ballet bars (along with smaller mods that will add interactions like slow dancing and hopscotch). If you want more historical gameplay JaneSimsten has a playable harp, archery, and functional hairbrushes. For more food options amellce and Littlbowbub are my favourite options, but you can even overhaul the whole cooking system with something like Srsly’s Complete Cooking Overhaul or BrazenLotus’s mods.
A particular category of CC I enjoy are called overrides, which will change an in game resource to act in a new way. You can only have one override per object, so be careful that you don’t install multiples. IlexSims has an entire series of mods that add functionality to basegame objects like toothbrush holders, shower caddies, decorative bookshelves, and even insects, fish, and frogs that you can feed and interact with. And if you’re tired of your sims standing in a void while you’re styling them, there are plenty of CAS backgrounds up for download; I’m currently using one by littledica but there’s so many options for you to choose from. As with any overrides, only install one at a time!
Default is how some things like skin tones and eyes are described, which means they will override the basegame version. Someone-elsa’s soulmate eyes are particularly stunning; you can also get EmmeSims’s baby skins and onesies, Keth’s Freckles, or EachUisge’s Werewolf Legs. There are even Luumia’s height sliders and various other sliders that will allow you to change the look of your sim from their hands to their ears to their neck! Some of these mods will allow you to make drastic changes to your Sims that could lead to animations clipping, or your computer might have a hard time loading your game, but you can really make your Sims look entirely different and have a lot of fun doing so.
Making it Easier (or Harder) - Game Fixes and Changes
One step above CC is mods that alter or change Sims 4 gameplay. These mods can fix bugs, add traits and interactions, add aspirations and careers, and fine tune sim autonomy and relationships. These mods have a greater chance of breaking with different patches, but also can really enhance your gameplay. Whenever there’s a new patch introduces a new game-breaking bug, like the HSY patch bug that broke games saving, chances are there’s a modder who will have a bug fix freely available within the next twenty four hours! This modding community is truly fantastic.
LittleMsSam has a huge collection of mods, ranging from letting toddlers spawn in parks to giving your kids the ability to walk dogs to overhauling the in game nanny, butler, and gardener to be more useful and less frustrating! You can also download mods that will make it harder to dig rocks, or add autonomous jogging, or let kids have a crush and find their first love. I personally cannot play without her high chair fix that makes it far less frustrating to play with toddlers.
Bienchen also has a lot of tweaks that can improve your game, from autonomous first kisses to adding more quick snacks to the fridge to disabling popups you might find annoying. Some of these tweaks are small but really help develop gameplay, such as the pregnancy conversations and the customizable family photo, really make Sims feel more alive.
Wonderful Whims by Turbodriver is THE mod for enhancing romance and relationships in this game. This adds a menstrual cycle and fertility, an attraction system with first impressions, and even adds sweat when your sims work out! There’s also a more nsfw version, Wicked Whims, which is similarly customizable. My favourite thing about this mod is how everything is truly an opt in situation, so if I don’t want to deal with birth control or the crabs STD I can simply turn off or edit those settings. There are a lot of creators who make mods that work well with WW, such as adding traits or new interactions within the WW system.
Lumpinou’s RPO is also a mod that overhauls sim relationships; it adds lots of settings that aren’t specifically centred around romance, like a new adoption and surrogacy system, an overhauled divorce and custody system, and new family preferences and reactions to new additions to the family. She also has some other fantastic mods that can give your sims talents and weaknesses, make conversations more affected by context, and even give your sims psychic abilities!
Chingyu has one of the most comprehensive collection of new traits I’ve ever seen, along with plenty of options to add or change traits, or even have your sims inherit traits. Other modders with many interesting traits and interactions include maplebell, triplis, KiaraSims4Mods, Kuttoe, and YourFalseHope.
If you’re feeling like your gameplay is getting old, there are also mods that will add entirely new challenges to overcome. Lot51 will allow you to add an entire heating, cooling, and plumbing system to the game, as well as a wifi system, doorbells, alarm clocks, and bug infestations. frankk has created a mod that will introduce different language barriers to your sims game. Waffle’s Mix Ins will allow you to overhaul werewolves or plantsims, and adeepindigo has a downloadable health care system, education overhaul, and a wedding mod, all base game compatible!
What if you really want to add chaos to your game? ShinoNox has some regular careers and also some tweaks like an arsonist trait. NC4T is maintaining the lifetime aspirations mod, which makes the aspiration system similar to older sims games with one difficult aspiration, and also creating mods that will allow your sim to be a burglar or pickpocket. Natethel0ser has a fantastic milestones mod that adds memories, and also Misery Traits to give your sims dry skin, asthma, and all sorts of insecurities.
A few honorable mentions I’ll refrain from linking are Basemental’s mods, which add drugs and gangs and are absolutely 18+, and Sacrificial’s mods, which do have some tuning errors but are also the best way to add an unprecedented degree of murder and chaos to your game.
In Conclusion
As long as this list seems I promise this is barely scratching the surface of Sims 4 mods. Of course not every mod on this list is for everybody, and there are plenty I’ll only use in one particular save file or situation. I advise that you use caution when using some of the more impactful mods, like the mods adding mental illness and more mean interactions; you know your limits and are responsible for keeping yourself safe and healthy when it comes to downloading mods. You can choose to add these things, and you can also choose to only engage with smaller mods or none at all. That choice is what I really enjoy about Sims 4, and I hope that by making this list I can help others enjoy it too.
This is only possible thanks to the amazing mod community in Sims 4. Please do not harass creators or demand they create mods or update old mods; they are usually doing this for free, and modding is a labour of love that we should be grateful for. I do encourage you to make your own lists of favourite mods, or leave comments for the creators about what you enjoy, or post CC screenshots and share links to your favourite discoveries! Happy modding!
#sims 4#ts4#sims 4 mods#sims 4 modding#ts4 cc#gaming#this was so long but also kind of fun to write#also its kind of just a reference for me but if it helps others thats great!
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slsdblr part 3
i feel like i should mention that these fake posts aren't necessarily canon canon and the only thing really real about them is the character dynamics. general time period (??) of these posts is within about 0-2 days after the world update
also pguy would absolutely start discourse over the most random things lmao.
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☀️ solarisricefield Follow
world update
we made it through another month !! say congratulations everyone !! with may just around the corner the snow-rainy season is ending and we will soon be entering the dry season. good luck with the weather it's about to get fucking crazy
patch notes - 30/04/2024
sol gets over their inability to name things. congratulations to everyone who got a name! i hope you're happy with what you have. sorry sleepy better luck next month
added the past
removed the past
added the past, but different
humanity is 0.63% less annoying. cant really do much at this rate sorry
added birthday updates in patch notes. i thought it would be nice.
removed herobrine
birthdays !!
08/04 - ya boi turned 18 three weeks ago. too late to say happy birthday now but you can still say it if you want.
14/04 - happy 23rd birthday to ruby!!
#world update #30/04/24 world update #slsdverse
#sol's stuff and things
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🎒 no1parachutelover Follow
WHERE'S HEROBRINE
☀️ solarisricefield Follow
i removed him
🎒 no1parachutelover Follow
NO WHERE WAS HE BEFORE THE UPDATE. I NEVER SAW HIM.
☀️ solarisricefield Follow
i removed him in the update before this one
🎒 no1parachutelover Follow
THEN WHY DID YOU REMOVE HIM AGAIN.
☀️ solarisricefield Follow
somebody's gotta make sure
#reblog
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🔥 ratinacage Follow
thanks sol (and everyone) for the (very late) birthday wish...
#btw i meant this in a lighthearted way hehe... no hard feelings! i get it /gen
#rue.txt
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☀️ solarisricefield Follow
none of you wished me a happy birthday
#sol's stuff and things
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🎼 parachysonata Follow
you guys only remembered to wish rue a happy birthday today? pathetic. i did that just in time and even threw a whole party for her. do better.
🎒 no1parachutelover Follow
OH MY GOD WE GET IT you have celebrity influence over the whole world and you two are lovebirds who love each other soooooo much you have to keep reminding everyone about it
🧵 craftswithoutarts Follow
P guy can you shut up? She probably meant it as a joke. It doesn't mean much. Piper is just commenting on how everyone forgot, and also how good of a girlfriend she is. Leave her alone let people express themselves
📘 giftedkidburnout Follow
okay normally i wouldn't be on board with pguy's tendency to fish for discourse over the most random things but he's right you know. ruby has already said that the late birthday wishes aren't a big deal, this post wasn't necessary.
🎼 parachysonata Follow
you all aren't even real friends if you can't even say happy birthday on time.
🎒 no1parachutelover Follow
see? it's not a joke, acacia. parachy if you just wanna make everyone else feel bad about themselves just quit it. youre just fishing for attention at this point
🎼 parachysonata Follow
Haha i'm sorry WHO'S fishing for attention? you're the one who decided to respond to my post with that confrontational-ass shit. i'm just making a statement. i'm not fishing for attention. tell that to sol, they're the one who keeps posting about "ohh nobody wished ME a happy birthday boo hoo" bitch nobody cares.
🔥 ratinacage Follow
piper please, i already said i didn't mind. it's not a big deal...
🧵 craftswithoutarts Follow
I take back everything I've said. Stop it. Don't bring Rice into this, you're lucky they muted tumblr notifs otherwise I pray for the well being of your ass
📘 giftedkidburnout Follow
@solarisricefield
🧵 craftswithoutarts Follow
Anemone no
☀️ solarisricefield Follow
.
🐟 fishfinderrr Follow
🎣 FISH FOUND!
There are 4 FISH in this post!
🧵 craftswithoutarts Follow
SANDY
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#original character#slsdverse#slsdblr#solaris ricefield#parachute guy#ruby flare#piper sonata#acacia woodlen#anemone sparks#sandy waters#rice's thoughts#fake post#unreality#realising that sol has their full real name as their username. just deity things i guess
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Life update
Hello Tumblr.
It's TJ here. I know I haven't posted much lately. I'm a little frustrated about my loneliness. I've been feeling like I've been missing something and that nobody cares about how I feel. I hope writing about it helps but gosh... I don't even really know any one of my followers like that. Heck... I don't think I really know anybody like that.
I've always liked Tumblr because it's been a place I could literally dump anything going on in my life. I don't even know if anyone cares enough to read about this but here goes nothing.
I've been very successful lately. I've got my sobriety on lock. I've quit smoking cigarettes. I've been keeping in touch with my family regularly. I've got a job. I'm getting a promotion. I own a business. I lack a girlfriend and the confidence to find a girlfriend. I live in a sober living home and share a room with 2 other old guys not even close to my age. I'm religious but I'd like magic in my life, not the sloppy fake kind but like ACTUAL magic. I know it sounds silly as heck, but seriously, there's been like this hole in my life that it just fits perfectly into.
I miss the crap out of my 3 children. It seems like there's nothing I can do about it though because through legal issues, there's this shitty barrier that I'm ready to break through by all means. Right now I should be asleep because I've got to get up hella early in the morning volunteering for something I'm literally losing interest in very fast because in this recovery crowd, it just feels like it's got people running around in circles for someone else to take the next best thing of yours while they give away their last. It entirely sickens me because although it feels like I'm bettering myself, it also feels like I'm being robbed of my time and relationships.
It's been about three months since my last relationship went to shit and anyone I've tried anything with just hears shit talked about me because it's the same, stupid crowd OR their not emotionally available. And I'm not about that whole closed off, hideaway until I die alone, kind of life.
I'm tired of reaching out to people and not being reached out to. By the way, I absolutely hate AI. Since AI has been out, nothing has seemed legitimate and I'm tired of fake ass people turning into some sour puss seeping from a sopping wet burrito.
Like, is there something wrong with me? Am I that fucking repulsing to be around? I get along with people at work just fine. My family seem like they love me. And I love myself unconditionally until the day somebody finally decides to love me.
Emotionally, I'm doing so great. Physically, I'm exhausted. I've made it easy for some girl to wiggle her way into my life by patching myself online and throwing myself into a crowd. Like damn, I'm only 28 years old. What kind of life am I living if I can't live a life with a female who's remotely interested in anything I care to do with her.
Trailing along, I don't want to carry my success much further because I feel like I have to find someone who's interested in me while I'm not successful otherwise the only thing that'd be lurking in the back of my mind would be something like, "is she with me only because I'm doing good in life or is she going to disappear as soon as things go to shit someday unexpectedly?"
Trudging forward, will someone just message me and make an effort at a friendship with me because I'm the kind who sticks around as long as the chemistry between us is fair. I'm too freaking young to feel this alone and I'm not ready to say fuck everyone and go my own way just to wind up happy being alone.
For real, I know I don't need anyone but God in my life. I care enough to post something about myself and hope someone gives 2 shits and a half about putting in their two cents out of the kindness of heart.
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A Secret Weapon For best squishmallows
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Eboot resigner 4.76
#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 HOW TO#
#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 INSTALL#
#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 SOFTWARE#
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#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 SOFTWARE#
Most people should understand that charging that kind of money for aging PS3 software is daylight robbery.ĮDIT: Oh, i should probably mention that my internet speed is 128kb/s 3G connection, so re-downloading isn't an option, as is purchasing it legitimately on the PSN.
#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 PLUS#
Oh, and save the "just buy the game" nonsense- I live in Thailand, a country where PS3 launch titles are still worth what they were in 2006 PLUS a bit more due to my dwindling Australian dollar and poor exchange rate.
#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 HOW TO#
Please, oh please, somebody please point me in the right direction on how to get this game to work before i play the "how many pieces can i break this consumer electronic device into" game. I guess spu-selfs are much harder to find.
#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 INSTALL#
But keep in mind Portal 2 does not work on Cobra-systems if u dont install the new patched stage2.bin from deank. The updates fr Portal 2 have lot of.sprx files. I've also tried fiddling with various rebug DEX settings (spoofing certain things and this and that) to no avail. edit: deIeted this vrsion with bug fund by jo3tmas, download version 0.1.4 below. Searches only lead to dead filehosting links. Nor can I, with my nifty search skills, find an unmodified EBOOT for this game. I'm pretty handy with google, i can BOOLEAN until the cows come home, but i can't find a straight answer or PC-side utility that can resign my EBOOT and SFO for higher firmware. PS3TrainerLoader.sprx only need setting one time ,next game trainer not need replace anymore. 2:Put extract files in Your devhdd0 / 3:Hard Reboot. Cobra CFW 7.1+ watch here 1:Make Sure Your cobra mode already toggle ' Enable '. My games got a PARAM.SFO too and i can't find a utility to resign that for higher firmwares so i'm guessing that's why it doesn't work on my 4.76. Extract files will have a one devhdd0 folder. No problem, I've tried an EBOOT resigner and i still get this error. i've been led to believe my game-rip isn't an official scene release and it's probably been resigned 3.55 for CFW's and ODDE etc. My setup is REBUG 4.76 CEX, I use Iris Manager to launch my games (And yes i have played with all combinations of game settings already) and no matter what I try, i always get error 80010007. I must be upto at 8 hours at the very minimum, trying to get Red Dead Redemption GOTY BLES01294 working on my PS3. Simple-Eboot-Resigner/README. Regarding the missing values: Created packages install fine here, so this might be a minor problem isnt it Regards Rudi.Please, somebody help me before i throw my PS3 from my 4th story apartment balcony. Simple quick tool to resign retail PS3 Eboot to lower firmware version. Ive changed it a bit and compiled it (using pyinstaller) and heres the result: makepackagelicense (source is included) It was developed by CaptainCPS-X back in 2012 i guess. So obtaining originaI makepackagenpdrmrev1732 and patching it could this be the way to go Regards Rudi. Ive found á patcher for maképackagenpdrmrev1732 but unfortuanally not the original makepackagenpdrmrev1732 itself. Next PS3xploit Resigner (for HAN) updated to v3.0.0 by habib. Hope someone here knows about this problem and may be its solution Regards Rudi. 4.75,4.76,4.78,4.80,4.81,4.82 CEX or DEX,4.83 CEX,4.84 CEX or DEX VSH module loading. Program will check the hash of each file and see if it matches the original disc.
#EBOOT RESIGNER 4.76 ISO#
PKG installs finé but the instaIled edat looks totaIy different to thé orignial one.Ĭopying manually thé original edat tó exdata-folder wórks fine. It's got to be the EBOOT and other files being resigned for 3.55 gunner007 said: If you're not sure if it's been resigned, try using PS3 ISO Rebuilder and see if you can find a matching IRD file. Ill probably be able to add the pause for edit in the other tools this next week.īut now im somehow stucked on one (small) problem, which is may be somewhat off-topic, but u guys are so amazing that i hope to find some help here: I try to make a PKG that installs a license-edat(for C00-Demos) to exdata-folder.īut whatever i try, and ive tried a lot of things, while making the PKG the edat gets corruptedmessed-up somehow. I wouldnt try level 5 unless the section had turned out smaller than I like with level 6.
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: {Y/n} Was at the top of her class at the Red Room Academy. Sought after for her expertise in the field by Dr. Zola, who purchased the widow for his Hydra Program. {y/n} Excelled quickly, and began teaching the new recruits using her previously taught skills. All was well until a James Barnes entered the program. His presence turned the entirety of the Hydra program on its head. Rules, hearts and trust broken time and time again.
Maturity: This book is rated mature for graphic descriptions of violence, foul language, and sexual content that may be sensitive to readers under the age of 18.
a/n: This story was originally posted on wattpad and will be updated there first. Follow there for quicker updates! https://www.wattpad.com/user/smaptin-smerica
Master List
Chapter 14
Bucky and I were now on our way to a small town outside of Calais, France in search of a betrayer of Hydra. I recognized the name of Fredrick Meier from our last mission. He is the man who has been selling Hydra weapons blueprints. Hydra spies and intel had last seen him in Calais eating lunch with a few other larger names in French manufacturing. He was then tracked heading East out of the city.
I looked across the small plane at Bucky, who looked back at me and gave me a small smile. We had been briefed on our assignment previously and now being flown to another temporary underground base in France that we would operate out of. By the sound of it, this mission would take a few days of tracking and gathering information before we finally execute the plans.
And of course, no witnesses.
"We're about 5 minutes out." The pilot informed us over the headphones and earpieces we were wearing. I simply nodded in response to him, unsure of what to say. I was nervous to say the least, Bucky and I haven't had a chance to talk after what I accidentally let slip earlier today. He didn't seem upset, which was good I suppose.
I noticed him motion with his hands which drew my attention over to him. I tilted my head as I watched him attempt to tell me something.
I'm Sorry about earlier.
I smiled gently at himbefore nodding my head as a signal that it was okay.
I'm sorry I was mean to you.
I responded back to him. He simply huffed out a laugh and shook his head.
We can be friends again, I know it.
I smiled sadly at him, nodding my head in agreement. There wasn't much else I could do but agree. We were going to be spending a lot of time together in the next upcoming days, we should probably get acquainted.
"Cleared for landing, starting our decent."
Our attention was turned to the pilot as he announced we would be landing. I felt the planes weight shift down as we gradually descended and landed with a couple thuds on a small patch of paved runway. We were allowed to get up, moving towards the doors that opened for us. We were in a lush green field freckled with wildflowers and surrounded by a wall of dense trees. The grass yard was unkempt and the house that sat in the middle was small and deteriorated. It was definitely unsuitable for living and had been left to sit for years.
"The bunker is in the basement, everything you'll need is there. Clothes, weapons, coms, cars, the whole ordeal." Our pilot informed us as we passed by his cabin. He was cute, fluffy brown hair and very dark brown eyes. His skin was deeply tanned and littered with dark freckles. He was younger, I'm guessing somebody's son of a hydra operative who grew up in this environment.
"Thank you." I thanked him kindly while giving him a smile. He returned my smile and tipped his hat. "Hail Hydra."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to push out a wide grin.
"Hail Hydra."
I turned around to see Bucky already on the ground, holding his hand up to me with a large smile on his face. This caused me to smile, taking his hand and using him as a crutch to lessen the impact of my landing. Truth be told, it wouldn't have affected me either way. How could I turn down such a sweet gesture?
We began our walk through the thick grass to the front steps to the porch.
"I think I might fall through if I step too hard." Bucky commented, tenderly walking up the stairs beside me. I laughed in response to this.
"It wasn't in the job description to rescue my partner from broken porches." I joked. He looked over at me, a big and goofy grin on his face.
"I like you more this way, talkative and cracking jokes. I thought you hated me before."
Unsure of the right words to say, I hummed in response instead. We reached the door which Bucky jumped at the chance to open for me. I took a step in, smelling the dirty and musty smells of the old house which made me crinkle my nose. The floor was open, dirty and naked. No furniture in sight, a kitchen sink without a faucet and one metal folding chair were the only appliances available. The windows were tinted with a yellow film, casting an eerie glow into the room. Directly in front of the door was a staircase leading up. Some of the stairs were missing or broken with a pathetic unwoven carpet hanging on for dear life.
"This is... homey." I commented, partially disgusted. I then noticed a door next to the staircase. It looked out of place, a brand new, white, heavy duty door with a padlock on it. I walked over, gently reaching for the doorknob to turn it. The door wouldn't open as I tried. The smooth pad underneath it shone red and began blinking.
"Maybe you have to put a fingerprint on it." Bucky suggested from behind me. I shrugged before placing my thumb flat on the surface. The lights turned blue for a moment and then I felt a stabbing sensation in my thumb that made me jump and retract my finger.
"Ouch!" I hissed, looking down at my now injured thumb. I saw a drop of blood drawn from my finger.
"Did that hurt?" Bucky asked, his hand gliding down to mine to look at my thumb.
"No actually, it surprised me more than anything." I admitted which made us both chuckle.
The light turned green and a lock clicking sounded. I put my thumb in my mouth to clean the blood off of it while I opened the door with my other hand. The stairwell was well lit, obviously the staircase to the basement had been altered. The walls were smooth concrete and overhead lights a bright white color.
We both descended, heavy boots thumping on the way down as we walked. The room was rather small at first, two beds on opposite corners of the short wall with a large dresser in between them. We walked further into the room and looking to the left, the room opened up to push behind the stairs. On the right wall was a large wooden bookshelf that was rather empty. On the left side of the bookshelf was a darkened room with the door open. I thought I saw a sink with a mirror so I hoped that was the bathroom. In the middle was a small dining table with two chairs. To the left of the dining table was what I assumed was the kitchen, a fridge and a stovetop was the only options offered to us. Cabinets lined the bottom of the counter tops as well as above on the wall. Along the back wall was a series of doors that I could only assume held any equipment that we would need. One lone white door resided in the back of the darkened room. I narrowed my eyes and began to walk towards it.
Bucky had made himself at home, already looking around and inspecting which bed was going to be softer. I reached the white door, turning the doorknob and swinging it open. Inside, the lightly slowly flickered on. My jaw went slack In shock at the amount of cars lining each wall. The back wall came up to a slant and it looked like there was a hatch where the roof would open up to drive out of.
"Oh wow," I turned around to see Bucky now in the doorway. His face lit up like a child as he quickly walked into the room and looked at all the cars with complete fascination.
I watched him with a smile on my face as he brushed his fingers tenderly over the cars hoods.
"At least one of us knows how to drive." I joked, stepping further into the room to stay within the listening range of Bucky. He looked over at me with somewhat disbelief.
"You're telling me you don't know how to drive?" He huffed out in a laugh. "Oh come on I was driving when I was 13 sitting on my mother's lap."
I chuckled and shook my head, watching as Bucky walked back over to me.
"I've been captive by training facilities my entire life. I don't even know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich."
His face faltered a bit, sadness showing as he put his hands on my shoulders reassuringly.
"Then I'll make us some grilled cheese sandwiches and you can tell me all about my partner." He suggested kindly. It didn't seem like I had much of an option because he walked back to the door that went into our room.
I followed slowly, making my way to the table and pulling out the wooden chair and taking a seat. Bucky began to look through the kitchen, flipping open all the cabinets to see what we had to work with. It was mostly canned foods, non perishable items that required to be heated up. Though they were nice and stocked the fridge with some bread, milk, eggs, and lunch meats. Some vegetables to possibly make sandwiches.
"Tell me what you meant just then, who were you held captive by, Hydra?" Bucky asked as he prepared the ingredients. I sighed, nervously biting the skin on the inside of my lip for comfort.
"Well, when I was twelve my parents were killed and I was taken and recruited into a secret underground program called the Black Widow program. It trains young women to become skilled assassins. I was a part of their first batch while developing the regime for their program. I graduated, started going out on missions. Dr. Zola and his men sought me out and made an offer to Dreykov that he couldn't refuse. Hydra purchased me for their super soldier program."
"Purchased you?" Bucky asked astonished. "Like picking a puppy from a litter?" His analogy had a lightheartedness to it, but he was exactly right.
"That's pretty accurate. My entire life all I've ever been a tool for whoever was in charge." The last sentence made my heart drop. I hated to admit it, but it was true.
Bucky kept working, it was clear he wasn't sure what to say. He stood in front of the stove, waiting to flip one of the sandwiches over.
"Have you ever killed anybody?" He asked, his tone of voice emotionless, hardly able to direct.
I took a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. It was something I was not proud of, something that haunted my dreams constantly.
"Yes."
"How many?" He hesitated before asking his next question, I could tell he was purposely not turning around to look at me which made it hurt even more.
"9."
I knew the answer to this instantly. I never forgot the faces or the names of the people who's lives I took. That is the sort of think that never leaves your mind in this kind of work. No matter how hard I tried to forget the images flooded my mind and haunted my dreams.
The silence between us was deafening, only the sound of the butter sizzling in the pan filled the air. My heart grew heavier as I thought more about the daunting past I carried with me. I could only wonder how bad it was going to get from here.
Bucky finally turned around with two paper plates in his hands, a grilled cheese sandwich on each of them. He gave me a weak smile upon seeing the saddened expression on my face. He set the plate down in front of me and sat across from me at the little round table.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say." He admitted, looking sheepishly down at the table. I shrugged, not knowing what to say either. The growing hunger in my stomach became evident the longer I sat there and smelled the food. I picked it up and took a bite. The cheese was warm and melted and the bread crisp and buttered. The simple meal made me more satisfied than I could have been.
I had taken a couple of bites of my sandwich before looking over at Bucky, his head down and staring at the table.
"What are you thinking about soldier?" I asked him, interrupting his thoughts.
"It's not fair. None of this is fair. I want to get us out of this. Maybe we can live a normal life. You deserve to live a normal life." I could hear the anger and frustration in his voice. These thoughts I have had years to come to terms with, I would by lying if I said I hadn't thought them too.
"That's what happened last time. I can't ask you to do that I don't want to go through it again." I demanded, feeling my emotions rise while thinking of previous events.
There was silence between us for a moment before Bucky took a bite angrily of his sandwich, chewing it deep in thought. I reached my hand over, brushing against the skin of his right hand. He looked down and then back up at me through his curtain of long, dark hair.
"It'll be okay." I made the empty promise. The truth was I wasn't sure. How could I ever be sure anything was going to be okay? I just hoped that there was a plan for us out there somewhere. That somehow, someway, things will get better; for one of us at least.
Next Chapter
#marvel#marvel characters#marvel mcu#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#chris evans#weiner soldier#sebastian stan#winter soldier#captian america#steve rogers#falcon and the winter soldier#marvel fanfiction#bucky x you#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky#james buchanan barnes#james barnes#sam wilson#hail hydra#black widow#mcu#the winter soldier#bucky x y/n#bucky angst#bucky fluff#winter solider imagine#winter solider x you
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Just text me!
Prompt: Jade doesn't like talking on the phone, but Reader always calls her instead of texting. Reader admits that it's because they want to hear Jade's voice. | or: Two times reader got away with calling instead of texting, and one time they didn't. | Jade x Gender-Neutral!Reader |
-ONE-
Jade hated lots of things, wet door-nobs (but then again, who likes them?), ducks, and this list could go on but then it would take hours to read. And one of the things she hated most was talking on the phone. She never understood why anybody would want to talk on the phone when you would just type and not have to listen to anybody's annoying voice. Hence why she only answered the phone 5% of the time and hung up the rest of the time. By now everybody had gotten the memo to stop calling her, and they did. Only calling when it was an emergency. Everybody but you understood this unsaid contract. You always opted to call her rather than text her, and nine times out of ten she always answered, because anytime she didn't you'd send her voice memos of you pleading for her to answer. She was always rendered powerless to you when you sounded just so sad.
Now was one of those nines times. Jade had been reading 'Animal Farm' by George Orwell when you called. She groaned and went to press the little red button until she saw your face in the contact picture. Her thumb quickly switched course and she immediately pressed the green one instead.
"Hi~ Jade!"
"Y/N."
"So I just saw the cutes-" She cut you off.
"No! Do not start about a cute dog again!"
"But it's just so cute! the owner said his name was Mr.Doodles! Mr.Doodles!"
"This was just something you could've texted me you know." Your line went quiet for a moment before she started again.
"Why do you always call me? I think I've only ever gotten texts from you when we were in class."
"...What's wrong with me calling you huh!? You meanie!"
"I'm not mean! Don't lie you liar!"
"If I'm a liar you're a meanie!"
"I'm no- Hold on. Don't do this."
Whenever you wanted to get away with something you just went off on a tangent and distracted her until she forgot what she was even talking about in the first place.
"Do what?" Your tone was almost sweet and almost innocent. Almost.
"Forget it, but next time you see a stupid dog with an even stupider name, just text me."
You hummed in response and she hung up the phone.
-----------------------------
-TWO-
You always found a way to bypass Jade's no calling rule. You always made sure to curve her questions so that you'd never be lying but not exactly telling the truth. It wasn't like Jade ever truly hated your calls. She did, of course, hate everybody else's but when your number popped up on her screen she'd answer always. She loved your weird squeals, snorts, and giggles you made when the two of you were talking. Everything you did was cute to her. But after a while, she got suspicious of you. The way you'd always call her over the smallest things. As if looking for any reason at all to call her. The way whenever she asked you to just text her you never directly said 'yes' or any time she asked about your calling addiction you just changed the subject.
Right now you had just noticed a bunny hopping along through the long stretch of grass of which you were walking along. You'd often take an afternoon to just wander this 'park' that was really just grass, trees, flowers, and animals. Few children were ever spotted there but you and a few others were frequent visitors. Your favorite thing to do there was just sitting on one of the many benches and watching for any and all animals. One of the animals being bunnies. Animals of which happen to be your newest reason to call a certain loud-mouthed-dark-haired girl.
It only took two rings before her voice came from the phone's speaker.
"Y/N! Again? What is it this time?"
"Bunny!"
Jade grumbled about you wasting her time but you just went on about the small animal you'd noticed. You didn't talk for very long as there wasn't much about the animal to describe. It was fairly small, grey with some brown patches, beady black eyes, ears that stook up toward the sky, and two long front teeth.
"I will ask again, why did you call me for this?"
"Because the bunny was so super cute and you needed to hear about it!"
"Needed, did I?"
"Uh-huh!"
"Then why didn't you just text me."
"What's that Jade?" You started to blow into the mic of the phone.
"You're breaking up! Call you later!"
You stuffed your phone back into your jacket pocket and started the longish walk back to your car.
-THREE-
This time you called her when you were in the supermarket, getting snacks for you and Jade's monthly movie marathon. You two got together monthly to watch movies all night and spend the day together the day after, every last Saturday and Sunday of every month. It started when Jade's parents went on another business trip for the weekend and she had gotten lonely and invited you over for the weekend. Though she would never admit to being lonely, you knew. Anyway, you each took turns buying the snacks. Last time Jade bought them so now it was your turn. And at the moment you were trying to decide between strawberry pocky or cookies and cream. It took you a minute but you ended up deciding to call Jade and ask which one to get.
And, in true whipped sapphic nature she answered almost as soon as you called.
"What!"
"hi, love."
It took a minute but she mumbled a 'hi' in return.
"Should i get strawberry or cookies and cream pocky?"
"Really, Y/N?"
"hm?"
"You call me.. over Pocky?!"
You pouted, even though you knew she couldn't see you.
"Mhm! Now tell me!"
"You could've tex-"
"I know I know I could've texted you, but I didn't, so tell me now which one to get!"
"If you know to text me, then why, why, do you always call?"
"because i- forget it, ill just get Oreos."
You pulled the phone away and went to press 'hang up' but a 'wait!' coming from the small box stopped you. You pressed the phone up to your cheek once more.
"Hm?"
"Get the strawberry ones."
"Okay! Bye-bye, love you!"
you hung up before she could say it back.
--------
It was an hour after the whole pocky incident and you were now on your first movie of the night, which was of course, 'The scissoring'. You always started the night off with some type of horror movie, per Jade's request of course.
She was pulling out one of the four pocky boxes you had purchased.
"Y/N?"
You turned your head from the screen to her.
"Why do you always call me! And don't call me mean, or a liar, or anything! Just tell me the truth. Or I'll end this weekend early. I swear on it!"
At that, you frowned. You were on one hand embarrassed at the true reasoning behind all your calls, but you wanted to be with jade for the next twenty-four hours so you gave in almost immediately after she said that.
"Well I just," you tilted your head down and mumbled out the rest in a confusing sentence. "Ilikehearingyourvoiceandijustiguessitrytolookforanyreasontohearitagain"
"Huh? Speak slower, love. Look- I won't make fun of you, I swear."
You look up at her and nod slightly.
"I said, I call you all the time because I like hearing your voice, so I guess I kinda just started looking for any reason to call you and hear it again. I'm sorry..."
At this, she tried to bite back a smile but in the end, the smile won and she look your face into her hands.
"You don't need to say sorry, Y/N. It's kind of cute."
You smiled once more and nestled yourself in her arms after you gave her a sickeningly sweet kiss.
A/N: *me walking in after not updating for like a month or two* hey yall... how yall doin?.
No, but for real, I just started streaming and I guess it's distracted me a bunch. I took it up after my hamster died cuz I used to talk to my hamster a lot and since she was gone I needed to talk to somebody who wasn't my large stuffed animal collection. Any-who, I'll try to update more! And i wrote this at 3 am after streaming for like an hour soooooo, sorry for the fuck ups.
#jade west#victorious#wlw#wlm#fxf#gxg#fxm#bxg#gxb#fanfiction#fanfic#y/n#jade west x reader#jade x reader#xreader#x gender neutral reader#cat valentine#tori vega#women#Elizabeth Gillies#liz gillies
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Not-a-Jedi (1/?)
Pairing : Din Djarin x reader
Summary : Since Grogu kept having nightmares about his father, you were sent to reunite them both. But nothing goes according to plan.
Warning : violence, sexy thoughts and yearnings.
Author's note : This was supposed to be a one shot but it's not.
When Master Luke had come to you with Grogu, you hadn’t thought much of it. The kid had been restless, he’d explained, visions of his father plaguing his mind every night.
‘I think he is meant to see him. His father might be in danger. Grogu won’t rest until he can help.’
You were no Jedi, but you could fly a ship, fire a blaster, kill, even, and Luke knew you and trusted you so he’d given you Grogu, and the name Nevarro to start with. Lured by the idea of leaving the little shop you worked at, after years of trying to settle down, live a quiet life, and knowing that grumpy boss of yours would take you back when your mission was over, you’d agreed to take Grogu to his father.
Now, though, with a blaster pointed at your head and a Mandalorian at the other end of it, you weren’t so sure. Screw Luke Skywalker and his sweet smiles.
‘Where did you get the kid ?’
You swallowed, your heartbeat picking up. As you were struggling for an answer, Grogu just cooed and his hands shot up towards the Mandalorian.
Luke hadn’t updated the very Mandalorian father about the whereabouts of his kid, you were slowly understanding. And now there was a blaster, pointed directly to your head - that deserved to be emphasized.
You tried to explain, hating how you were struggling, stumbling on your words like a new-born babe on an uneven sidewalk. When you were done, the Mandalorian stood so still you blessed whatever god you didn’t believe in because death was sure to be quick and painless. But it never came.
Instead, you felt Grogu’s weight being lifted from your arms as you heard the Mandalorian whisper :
‘Miss me, kid ?’
The baby cooed, while a lady you hadn’t noticed at first lowered her rifle, tapped the baby on the forehead.
‘Nice to meet you, Jedi. I’m Cara Dune.’
You shook her offered hand and corrected her :
‘Not a Jedi.’
You gave her your name, but she playfully smiled and answered :
‘Nice to meet you, Not-a-Jedi.’
The Mandalorian had turned away, already walking back into town. Cara motioned you to follow. You looked around as you walked. So much sand. You could feel it slipping in your boots, too. Not a fan of that, you decided. It was hot, and your weapon of choice was heavy against your back. Cara was talking to the Mandalorian, though you couldn’t make up her words. You’d rather trail behind, unsure of what to do next. Luke’s words hadn’t been specific. Stay with them or don’t, but if you don’t, know that a time will come when you need to get Grogu back here. When, though, I don’t know.
You liked Luke, really, but the cryptic wizard bullshit was getting old. You briefly wondered how you had been so fascinated by the whole thing in the first place.
Once you were sat at a table in the local cantina, a drink in front of you, Cara casually asked :
‘So, Not-a-Jedi, how come the Jedi trusted you with the kid ?’
She was leaned back on her chair, legs spears apart, but somehow you could tell she was ready to break you in half. And maybe, she could. You might have had five whole teenage, foolish years of something akin to street-fighting behind you, but she was huge and clearly military-trained. And there was a Mandalorian sitting next to her. You weren’t about to take that chance, not after many years of keeping to yourself, the hard muscles softening with a bit of fat here and there, not with the slight softening of your belly. The street-fighting had been about adrenaline. You’d been too young, too cocooned by parents scared of the world, and you’d wanted out. You’d liked the danger of it, back then, the very idea that one wrong move could leave you with a broken spine turning you on, but never scary enough to dwell on it. You’d felt invincible, back then. Fights had been foreplay to encounters in a dark street, quiet fucks to release a tension you shouldn’t have felt. You’d had a family, a roof. You were privileged, but it was boring. A spoiled brat. You still were, in a way. Spoiled brats don’t fight military-trained huge lady, and they surely don’t fight Mandalorians.
‘The Temple needs supplies. Luke gets them from me - from us. I work at a small shop in a town not far from the Temple.’
She nodded, while the Mandalorian kept quiet, visor trained on the kid who was happily downing his food like you hadn’t fed him since you’d departed.
‘Slow down, kid.’ You muttered without thinking and raised a hand to stop him. The stare of the Mandalorian stilled your movement, though, and you brought your hand back to your own cup.
‘You must be tired’, Cara continued. ‘Long journey ?’
Your hands gripped the cup harder at that, the words out of your mouth before you thought better of it.
‘Can’t tell you that.’
She leaned in.
‘Why not ?’
You swallowed, and met her stare.
‘The Temple’s location is secret. If I tell you how long we’ve been travelling for, that’s a piece of information. I can’t do that.’
‘Not even to the kid’s dad ?’ She quipped back, gesturing the unmoving warrior. There was a slight simmer of tension in the air. They don’t know you, they have every right to be suspicious, you reminded yourself. But you didn’t know them either.
‘He’s not the one asking. I don’t know who you are. This is the kind of information I could give to him, but not with you here.’
‘Yes, you can.’ A modulated voice interrupted. ‘I trust Cara with my life. She was there when the Jedi took the Child.’
It wasn’t so much the sentence itself that moved you, but the way Cara’s body slightly turned towards the kid and his father, the way her face grew grave.
‘A week or so.’ You quietly admitted, after a beat.
The Mandalorian hummed in answer and silence fell over you all. You were starting to feel uncomfortable when he spoke again, his voice harsh and cold as the Beskar he was wearing :
‘You’re gonna spend the day and the night here, but tomorrow morning, you’re both gone. It’s too dangerous.’
That, you hadn’t expected.
‘That’s- That’s not what Luke said-‘
‘If I’m in danger, then you both need to leave as soon as possible.’
———
The kid was screaming. You’d figured it would go down that way, with the Mandalorian intent on having you go back to the Temple. Then, a three-fingered hand landed on your cheek and everything went elsewhere.
The Mandalorian was on the floor of a ship you didn’t recognize, chest heaving up and down, and blood everywhere.
‘Stay with me’, you heard yourself say. ‘Come on, stay with me. I’m here, I’m gonna patch you uo. It’s going to be okay. Grogu- Grogu can do it too.’
When you came to, you were on the floor of your own ship, and Grogu was softly crying in the arms of the Mandalorian.
‘We can’t leave’ you choked, as Cara was helping you up. ‘We can’t leave.’
You took a few steps, and you threw up.
When you woke up, you were in a bed and a doctor was checking your vitals. She probed, and asked too many questions, but couldn’t find a single thing wrong with you. You weren’t about to tell her that a fifty-year-old kid had shown you a vision of yourself trying to save his father, so you let it be.
Instead, you used your best bed-ridden voice to convince the Mandalorian that you both should stay with him because you might just die if the kid pulled that kind of stunt again - and maybe you were right, because Grogu meant well but you felt like that time you’d had one week of sexy times with a nice Zeltron lady. You couldn’t walk properly, and your mind was elsewhere, though this time, the elsewhere was definitely not as nice as it had been back then.
Which is how you ended up on Mando’s ship, the Galactica, strapping up for a journey through memory lane. Apparently, since he was stuck with the two of you, Mando wanted to take the kid back to people who mattered to him.
Next stop : Tatooine.
And the welcome on that planet was something else. You liked Peli the moment you met her, with the way she gave shit to Mando just because she could. She took to you, too, and when, your nerves vibrating with excitement, you asked her where you could see a good fight, she pointed right where you needed to be and added, for good mesure :
‘Keeping the kid will cost you extra, but I can take care of him if you want.’
This was the Mandalorian’s money you were playing with, but you figured that if you bet some and won some, that wouldn’t be an issue. You agreed, and went on your merry way while Mando was out shopping for rations.
Except, when you got there, the thrill of it all got to you. Your skin itched to go up there, on the ring. To knock somebody out. You hadn’t felt that way in years. Maybe it was the thrill of the adventure. Maybe it was the Mandalorian, and his cold front. Maybe it was the Mandalorian, but for other reasons : you were supposed to save his life, you’d seen it. Maybe you could prevent this from ever happening if you went back in there.
No matter the reason, you did it. You watched the winner, raised your hand, and got up.
———
It had been easy. Easier than when you were younger. You’d been stuck on the Galactica for a while, and you’d needed release.
You won, fair and square, and went back to the ship, covered in blood but the weight of the ten thousand credits comforting at your side. You went to pay Peli but her answer surprised you :
‘Did you win ?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you ended that idiot ? The blond one ? I can never remember his name but he’s a pain. So smug.’
‘Yes, I did.’
Peli looked at you, and smiled.
‘Free of charge, then. I hope Mando is smart enough to keep you around.’
Mando himself said nothing about the bruises and the cuts on your body, but he let you heal yourself. You figured, then, he knew you could take care of yourself.
You spent a while with Peli, time passing like a blur, the days almost all the same. Mando didn’t seem in a hurry to see you leave anymore, indulging in the selfish feeling of joy to have the kid back. You kept going back to the cantina to fight. Kept winning, and the grin you wore every time you got back must have intrigued Mando because he came to see you fight, one night.
The moment you spotted him in the crowd both threw you off and cleared your mind to a point of concentration you’d never reached before. You didn’t stop to try and understand the feeling, not with the way you could hear every cheer, not with that visor looking right at you, not with that beast suddenly clawing at your belly with new ferocity. You didn’t stop and understand the feeling, because suddenly you were fighting him. Your faceless opponent became Mando in your mind, and as you threw punches with renewed ferocity, images - fantasies - spilled in your mind, of him taking you in a dark alley, both of you still sweaty and dirty from the fight. Even better was the fact that you knew you could never beat him. Would you yield, though ? Would you get on your knees and beg for mercy ? Or would your pride take over your lust and lead you to fight until he had you pinned down and unable to breathe ?
It was amazing, you’d reflect later, how one’s body could move on pure instinct, before for the rest of that fight, your mind was elsewhere but you were moving with a deadly precision, ready to strike, ready to hurt, ready to win. And win, you did.
He wasn’t in the cantina anymore when you came back in after collecting your winnings. The fire in your belly went out suddenly at that, an empty feeling replacing that burning sensation, your fingers no longer tingling but heavy with ache. Your opponent - you still hadn’t caught his name - offered you a drink you accepted, but drank too fast for it to lead to anything more. The urge to get out of there was only made stronger when the man in front of you asked, innocently enough :
‘You travellin’ with the Mandalorian ? You guys showed up here at the same time and he only ever shows up when you fight.’
So he’d come here before, was your first thought. The second, though, was much more unpleasant : the kid.
You were drawing too much attention to yourself. You left the cantina eager to get to the Battlestar, only to be stopped by an iron grip on your arm. Your reflexes kicked in and you landed a hard punch on - something very hard. The pain was so intense it travelled through your whole body and made you shiver, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as your body curled onto itself.
‘It’s me.’ You heard, the modulated voice now familiar. And then, as an afterthought : ‘Sorry.’
‘A little warning, next time. That’d be nice.’ You all but wheezed, the pain in your hand burning you whole.
‘Sorry.’ The helmet repeated, even though the hand on you was not easing its grip.
You had some bruises on you, the morning after. A split lip, too, and an almost nasty wound on your left eyebrow. The biggest bruise of all, though, was the one on the hand that had struck the Mandalorian, a huge ugly shape, purple and green and blue. You couldn’t flex your left hand without tears coming to your eyes. You wondered how sick you were, because you couldn’t look at it without being turned on. It was a good thing that you were right-handed, too : you weren’t that incapacitated, and you could also keep touching yourself in a very capable way. Small blessings.
———
That grip thing, Mando squeezing your arm to lead you wherever, that iron grip to stabilize you, became a thing. And you were quickly getting that what he represented, that sense of danger about him, turned you on almost all the fucking time. The rest of the time, well, he was being a very good dad and that-
Fuck.
Let’s just say you had it bad.
You left for Mos Pelgo a week later, after Mando asked you why you didn’t go fighting anymore and you revealed your worries about being too much in the spotlight, and how afraid you were that it could affect the safety of the kid. After that conversation, he set course immediately for your next destination, leaving you just enough time to say goodbye to Peli.
‘Thanks for teaching that boy a lesson.’
You thought back on your first fight and answered, your grin predatory :
‘Oh, him ? He was too cocky, but not that good of a fighter, really.’
Peli laughed.
‘Not that boy. The other one. The one with a bucket on his head. Stubborn ass who won’t think for a second about what is good for him. You got him to relax, enjoy his time with the kid and remember people who care about them.’
You could tell it was a lot for her to admit that she cared about the Mandalorian himself so you just shrugged. You watched as she bid her goodbyes to the kid and his father, before she turned to you and added :
‘Hope I’ll see you again, Korra.’
‘Korra ?’ You asked.
It was her turn to shrug as she explained :
‘A silly story my parents used to tell me. In a galaxy far far away, there was a woman who could manipulate fire, earth, air, and water. But she was also very strong. Kicked everybody’s ass. You remind me of that story.’
It wasn’t until later, on the speeder, that Mando said : ‘Korra, I like that.’ With the wind blowing, you thought you’d imagined it. But then, he started calling you that.
Cobb was friendly, funny, a bit too cocky. A few years back, you would have gone for a man like him. The thought that you could, still, and that he might not be opposed to it was nice but not enticing enough for you to act on it. Still, the two of you fell into a rhythm of harmless banter, and flirting. What could have been fun became a game of pushing and pulling : the Marshal would make you laugh and Mando would just grab your arm, the feeling of his grip now familiar to you, something to ground you, even. You entertained the fantasy, for a moment, that he wanted you the way you wanted him.
And maybe, maybe, you were not wrong.
Here you were, a few days after landing, joking with the Marshal as you felt Mando’s hand grab your arm. Tight, like that time after the fight. That shouldn’t have made you restless but it dit, your knees bouncing with excitement at the idea to take on the Mandalorian himself. So when everybody started to go to bed, he grabbed your arm, again, and led you to the Battlestar. Once you were alone, the kid asleep, he dropped all the Beskar except for the helmet, and whispered, a challenge :
‘Come on, Korra, come at me.’
You did as you were asked, a nice obedient girl even though you were feral. He won, though. Of course he did. Your back was hurting against the floor as one of his hands kept you there, easily. He was looking at you, you felt, above you as one hand tied yours together, and the other on your ribs, right below your heart.
‘Din.’ He said.
Din, you understood, as your mind went back to that fight, that fantasy.
Din, you thought after he let you laying there, chest heaving, while he entered new coordinates.
------
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(Author here. I feel very emotionally and mentally tired. I’ve sat here and cried for the last hour or two. I’m high-functioning autistic with Borderline Personality Disorder and I’m just so mentally exhausted. I try to talk to friends but then they don’t respond back to me. The Switch version of Sky has become badly bugged since the new update; some people can’t even get the game to start because it crashes, while others like myself are locked out of realms because the game crashes (I can’t get into Forest OR Valley) and with the upcoming Traveling Spirit this week, this hurts me and other candle runners.
TGC is aware of it, but they won’t even state if they’re working on a patch to fix this. They’re not reassuring any of the Switch players that they’re working on fixing this before the Traveling Spirit comes or before the next Season of Flight quest starts. I’ve heard horror stories about people not being compensated for the last time Sky was unplayable while SOME were compensated.
On top of that, it’s the holiday season. I hate the holidays with a passion. My cousins are coming over, they’re disrupting my home and work life. I’m trying to find somebody to commission. I’m trying to start writing chapter 10 for Alef’s Journey Home but I’m so mentally tired, but I don’t want to leave anybody hanging on for too long and losing interest. I don’t want to be selfish and take a break.
What should I even do?)
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The second of my ready updates:
The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 ?) [Fate Grand Order AU]
We don’t find Ritsuka where we left her. It’s easy to follow the trail of carnage back, but there’s nothing there when we arrive, and Robin curses and hits one of the walls, muttering something I can’t make out. I want to say something to help him, but I’m feeling too much the same way myself. At least she’s alive, but if they’ve caught her…
“I told her to call us! And if she used that much mana, she knew she was in trouble, and she tried to fight instead!” snaps Robin.
“It’s possible something else happened,” interjects King David, “Couldn’t she have found someone else?”
That’s true. That’s true, and that would explain a lot! God, I hope so. I really, really hope so. I try to sense for another connection to a new spirit, but again, I find nothing, just like I can’t find my master.
“Come on,” says Emiya, “We need her back either way, and there’s nothing to do but search. If she left, she’d have started from here and had to head r—”
He stops.
I turn and follow his gaze. A little ways down the hall in that direction, there’s a door whose entire lock panel is melted. Bingo.
“Come on!” I call, rushing towards it.
As soon as I get there, I start to push open the door, but Robin catches me by my shoulder, and when I look, he’s pointing down the hall. “That way.”
“You can sense her?” I ask, amazed.
“No, but there’s faint mana traces in the air, and I’m extremely attuned to my own signature,” he replies, “She was wearing my cloak when we left her, and I can sense it picking up here—the trail goes that way. This way!” he calls to the others, “I’ll trace it!”
We tear off after Robin, turning down halls and up an elevator shaft. Alarms are blaring, and I still hear shouts in the distance. We only hit one patch of guards though, on the floor we get off on. They’re kneeling beside the downed bodies of other guards, whose blood has begun to dry already on the floor, and we catch them by surprise, knocking them out easily. She wasn’t alone, then, I think as I hesitate once the guards are down before moving on, And whoever she was with, they’re violent. And she wasn’t in control of them.
Not Ur-shanabi is good. Violent and not in control is really, really bad.
We go faster. A blur of tense, desperate movement down halls and past empty rooms and faint traces.
“I sense her!” shouts Robin, skidding to a stop halfway down a hall and changing course, “This way!”
He’s right! I check and I can sense her again too—one floor above us now, and a few halls over. King David breaks a hole through the ceiling with his sling and we move up as fast as we can, following her signature. We’re getting close, and overcome with a surge of intent, I pull ahead as we’re right on top of her and round the last corner first, and she’s there! She's there! She’s alive! She’s alive, and then the relief is immediately replaced with fear, because there’s a tall man I’ve never seen before, a heroic spirit like us, with some very intimidating energy coming off him, and two unmoving bodies slung over his shoulder, one a second heroic spirit, and the other Ritsuka, both unconscious and limp.
I draw and let a flurry of bullets slam into the wall all around his head. “Drop her!” I shout, “Or I won’t miss the next one!”
The man spins on his heel to face me and takes a step back, and I see on his face he’s thinking fast as the rest of the group slides into the hall behind me.
Seeing so many of us, the man grits his teeth and summons a long, thin sword made out of something I’m having a hard time looking directly at for some reason, simultaneously tightening his grip on Ritsuka and the other body and turning to angle himself between us and them. “What do you want!” he shouts desperately, “Aren’t all of you spirits too? Why are you attacking! What, are you dogs for this place?”
“We’re attacking because that’s our master’s unconscious body you’ve got highly god damn suspiciously slung over your shoulder!” snaps back Robin, bow aimed and leveled.
Eerily calm, beside me, King David readies his slingshot with a kind of poise and concentration that is genuinely unnerving. I do not think he will miss.
“Your master?” says the man in disbelief, “Do you think I’m an idiot? Outside of a ritual, a human being can barely sustain one spirit alone, let alone a human child—and this girl is my master. –‘Our master’? You expect me to believe this young girl is sustaining not just two, but six heroic spirits at the same time, alone?”
Wait.
Ahhhhh shit. Shit! That makes so much sense. Whooo second time today I’m real glad my instinct is to threaten and not to shoot strangers that only might be a huge threat!
“I don’t know what you want her for, but you’re not getting her!” continues the man with a ferocious intensity that makes him feel daunting, even heavily burdened and so clearly outnumbered. There’s a surge of mana around him, and in one burst of energy the grey suit is gone, replaced by a black and red uniform with a cloak and a full face mask, and the pressure in the room itself has changed and I’m suddenly hearing unsettling whispers in the air, and ah shit shit he’s flinging both bodies he was carrying out behind him and going to move which can only mean heee—crap crap crap; he’s about to use a bigass area of effect noble phantasm, and everyone knows it, and it hits me I’ve got about a third of a second before somebody shoots somebody in here’n—
“Wait, wait, wait!” I call, spinning my gun into my holster and stepping into the line of fire for the first few people beside me, hands up and out, because I like to think we’ve all hit the conclusion I just did, but everyone in the group is exhausted and tense and I’m not takin’ chances, “This was a mistake! Nobody shoot!”
To my surprise, no one does—not even the new guy. He stands, so tense he’s almost shaking, sword still leveled, but whatever he was about to do, he doesn’t—the mana level in the hall holds, and he listens.
Behind him in the sudden silence, I hear Ritsuka and the other guy hit the floor and roll with little thuds, and wince internally. I keep my focus on the guy in front of me and my hands up. “Sorry—We jumped the gun on you there-outah concern for our master,” I say apologetically, “I know this is gonna be real hard for you to believe, but she really is our master too. –If you find that hard to believe, you can check for yourself!—'parrently if you’re co-contracted, you can sense the connection to each other a little—you should be able to sense it from every one of us. Sorry I didn’t notice yours sooner; with our Master right on top of you, I wasn’t picking up the weaker signal under such a strong one. I can find it now, though.”
Taken aback and mistrustful, the man hesitates, then very slowly lowers his sword just a few inches, and beside me I sense the others do the same with their weapons in response. Taking that as a good enough show of faith, the man turns his head towards each of us in turn to sense for connections, then cranes his masked head to look at Ritsuka’s limp form where she landed, and says, “But. That’s impossible.” The earlier viciousness is gone now, and the air pressure in the room returns to normal. Wheeew, thank God! I let myself relax.
“She’s an unusual person,” replies Emiya, “Usually, you’d be right.”
“No wonder she passed out after forming a contract with me, the poor girl,” says the man softly like he means it. I decide I really like this guy. Got less than no idea who he is, but he was gonna get himself killed just now trying to keep Ritsuka and whoever else he’s got there from gettin’ hurt, instead of droppin’ ‘em and savin’ himself, and he clearly already likes her, so what else do I gotta know?
Shit—speakin’ of—
“I’m uh—just gonna go pick her up off the floor then? If we’re all cool?” I declare just in case the guy hasn’t decided he’s on board completely yet.
“… Oh. Yes,” he says with a note of chagrin, turning himself to look at where they’ve landed.
I go to her as fast as I can, unsurprised to hear everyone else coming too. The new guy comes as well, but he goes to the other body.
When I reach Ritsuka, I’m relieved to see she doesn’t look injured anywhere, just a little bit pale. I take a knee and scoop her up gently, trying to make sure there’s no damage I don’t see.
“Well, you look like you’re in one piece at least.” Robin, speaking softly. I glance up and watch as he takes a knee too and looks her over too. She’s still wearing his cloak, and he touches the hood, which is hanging loose, then sighs and pats her on the head. “And you took it off, I see. But I guess your judgement was okay, since things turned out like this. I won’t give you the worst time when you wake up again. You damn fool.”
The others are above us too now, and I glance up at King David and Emiya. I stand up so they can see too without trouble. “She’s fine, right?” I ask, since they both do healing to some extent. She seems like it, but bein’ unconscious always means somethin’ ain’t quite right.
King David reaches over and places a hand on her face for a second, then smiles. “She’s alright—just exhausted. –Good throw!” he adds cheerily to the other heroic spirit, who glances over in surprise from where he’s just stood up again himself with the other body he threw in his arms, “I don’t think that even really bruised her!”
The man seems to consider responding, but have no idea what to say, and shuts his mouth and just kind of gives an awkward nod. He hesitates, then moves closer to get a look at how she’s doing himself.
I haven’t had a chance to get a good look at the second heroic spirit—the one he’s holding—before this, but I do now. And…it is grim.
Shit. Whatever they did to him, it was bad. Weird that after what most have been two months of absolute hell I ain’t comfortable enough with to look at, I still feel like I got comparatively lucky. Least I knew what was going on…
“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is a teenager like her doing here, and with six heroic spirits contracted to her?” asks the new man, glancing over at us.
“Uh, rescue mission,” says Robin, gesturing vaguely, “Happened to see that one in trouble,” he indicates me, “broke him out, summoned him for backup,” he indicates Emiya, “and they came back here to clean house. The rest of us were all in about the same position I expect you two were.”
“Ah, then is that why he’s…?” says the man, gesturing to our unconscious lancer.
Emiya gives a nod.
“What about yours?” I ask.
The unconscious spirit in his arms is in way worse condition than our lancer is—at least, he looks a lot worse. The guy’s body is covered in deep purple runes and markings I don’t recognize that glow and pulse faintly, carved into his skin, and his body is swollen horribly all over and covered in tiny red bumps. The bags under his eyes are deep and his face gaunt and hollow looking, even swollen, which is somehow worse than either would be on its own. His long blonde hair is lifeless, damp with sweat and caked to his body, and he’s breathing raggedly and weak. I have seen spirits in conditions as bad as this from wounds, in the heat of battle, but never…sick? I can’t think of any other way to describe this, but he looks sick, which we don’t get any more—and he looks terminal, at that.
“Yes. This is what they did to him. …I…haven’t been able to fix it all. I thought my master might be able to help me when she woke,” answers the man. He’s stayed in his armor and mask, so I can’t see expressions at all, but he’s got a trustworthy voice—real sad, though.
“Can I take a look?” asks King David, “I may be able to help.”
The man hesitates, then says, “Yes. Uhm. —alright. –Might I ask who the rest of you are?” like he knows it was stupid to still be untrusting at this point, but he can’t help it. I think he and the other spirit must be friends, because I can’t imagine him being this level of protective over a complete stranger, and it’s about how I expect I’d be with Robin or Geronimo.
“You first,” says Robin at the same time Emiya says, “After you,” and they both look incredibly pissed that the other had the exact same impulse.
“Right. My apologies,” says the man formally, and I buy that—he seems frazzled and stressed. “My true name is Antonio Salieri.”
God damn it. I try to smile and not let my absolute lack of knowledge show on my face. Now there’s two spirits in the party whose names I have never even heard—this sucks. It always feels low-key rude not to know. It looks like King David’s in the same boat as me, so I feel a little bit better, but Robin and Emiya I think recognize it.
“And him?” asks Robin. Emiya was definitely about to say almost the same thing, but he stops himself from overlapping this time and gets some kind of an expression on his face.
“—I’m Billy the Kid,” I interject as friendly as I can, because I feel like we’re pilin’ it on a little harsh here.
“Thank you,” he tells me, then turning to the others, “This is Mozart—Wolfgang Amadeus.”
Oooooh, the composer! That’s pretty cool. Robin and Emiya both get incredibly strange looks on their faces, though, and I know Robin well enough to tell he’s suddenly trying really hard not to laugh nervously. The heck’s that about?
“King David,” chimes in King David, oblivious to this and holding up a finger in greeting. Salieri turns to stare at him. Then he begins softly to laugh hysterically, and everyone gets real quiet.
He doesn’t seem to realize how weird that is, and just looks down at the body in his arms and says, “It appears once again God looks out for you only, and particularly.”
“Guys?” I prompt in the hopes of turning this conversation back to semi-normal, and because it’s kinda bad form not to exchange names once an ally tells you theirs.
“Robin Hood,” says Robin, punching his timecard back into the present.
“…Emiya,” says Emiya like he doesn’t want to answer.
Salieri glances back up, serious and normal again, and nods slowly.
“May I?” says King David again, and Salieri obliges. King David starts looking over Mozart thoughtfully, muttering to himself in what I’m pretty sure has gotta be Hebrew, and he flicks his wrist without looking and his kinnor appears by him. As I watch, he shuts his eyes and begins to play. It’s the longest and most intricate melody I’ve heard from him, and it’s fascinating to listen to. Beautiful. Nothing I’ve ever heard before either, and he sings softly with it in his own tongue. It’s…really incredible. I’ve heard some pretty good piano players and guitarists in my own day, but seeing somebody like this, you understand for the first time the concept of a genius on an instrument—it’s so unlike anything I’ve heard before, it’s like it’s a totally different thing than what I thought of as music. While he plays, the glowing purple markings start to twist and dissolve on Mozart’s skin, a piece and a few at a time from foot-to-head, and as they go, his body begins to repair itself. It’s a strange thing to watch, curses leaving a body, but it's pretty amazing too.
“Damn,” I whisper under my breath.
“You said it,” agrees Robin softly with a smile.
“So, uh?” I ask, focusing my attention back on Ritsuka and glancing over at Emiya, “Any way to wake her up?”
“You could smack her,” says Emiya offhand, and then there’s a half-second delay and he gets a look on his face that says very clearly he did not think before speaking and wishes greatly he had. He grimaces, and gives Ritsuka a glance, then reaches out with his free hand.
“—You ain’t gonna smack her, right?” I make sure—to bother him, not because I’m really worried he would.
Emiya sighs at me and I grin. He places a hand on her chest and I watch geometric patterns runs along her skin for a moment.
“She used too many circuits she wasn’t used to using,” he tells me, eyes still on Ritsuka, “Flooded them and burned herself out a little. –She’ll be fine, though—I’ve seen a lot worse of the same. I think it just tired her out, the same way an intense amount of physical exertion someone isn’t used to might after an adrenaline rush would. This should help her wake up.”
He removes his hand, and the patterns vanish. Ritsuka stays still for a few seconds, then groans and turns a little in my arms to snuggle against my shoulder, muttering incoherently, and I smile.
“Thanks,” I say to Emiya. He gives a nod. “How’s the lancer doing?” I add with a little concern. I really expected him to wake up again already. Emiya’s expression darkens and closes off.
“It’s complicated,” he answers after a moment, “But not well. …I can’t really fix what’s wrong with him; neither can David, and the problem’s not his mana supply from the kid. It’s what they did before, and don’t think any of us can fix it.”
“Not even with a command spell?” I ask, taken aback and feeling a chill settle on me. Thinking about him vanishing and getting dragged back here to…that shit again. We got to raze this place to a pile of ash. A part of me wonders if that’ll really be enough, though. We’re lucky in that mages tend to guard any breakthrough like hoard of gold, but at the same time, these mages are selling, and if they’re selling, god knows how much they were willing to part with for money.
Emiya shrugs. “A spell could forestall death a little, but they’re not really meant for repairing a spirit origin with a gaping hole in it. This is something that’d take time and experience to figure out, if it can be fixed. The good news is that he’s not going to die in the next few hours or anything, unless he takes a lot more damage—if there’s one thing he excels at, it’s being damn near impossible to put in the dirt quickly—so, we don’t have to rush for a solution while we’re here. If we stay focused and on task, we should have a chance after we deal with this place. And if not, so long as we bring this place down, he should at least be able to avoid being brought back here.”
He's really thought this through. I know he’s a tactical fighter anyway, even not having known him long, but something about the amount of detail makes me think despite the weird interaction they must be some kind of friends. I’m distracted from considering that any further though, because Ritsuka shifts a little again and opens her eyes about halfway. “Mnnn…” She blinks unevenly at my vest, then turns her head up and squints at me. “…Billy?”
“Heya,” I say with a smile, feeling immense relief seein’ her up, “Feelin’ better?”
“Oh?” says Emiya, moving in too, “You’re up faster than I expected.” I feel pretty sure that’s his version of saying he’s relieved to see her okay.
“I am?” asks Ritsuka, still a little foggy.
“Hey kid,” says Robin, leaning over from the other side, “I see you did the exact opposite of what I asked you to.”
“No I didn’t,” she mumbles, blinking and trying to focus, “I was gonna call. I almost did—when I thought I was in trouble. But it was okay. I met a new…Oh!” Her eyes get clearer, and she tries to sit up before realizing she is being held and can’t very much like this. “Antonio! I met this other spirit—did you find—“
“—Don’t worry,” says Emiya, “He’s safe and sound; we already met.” I move to accommodate her view. “He’s right over there with David and Mozart.”
Salieri and King David are both looking over already, and King David gives a grin in greeting but keeps playing. Salieri starts to say something, but Ritsuka does before he gets a chance.
“With—‘Mozart’?” she asks, face scrunched up, looking from him to the other three and staring with absolute blankness at them “—The…composer?? Where did he come from?”
Wait.
“Wait, you weren’t—you didn’t contract with that one?” asks Robin before I can.
“No—I never saw him before,” says Ritsuka, just as confused, “Do I need to?”
Ohhhhh—of course. Salieri didn’t think she could contract with more than one person, and he said she passed out soon as the two of them made a pact—we’re all idiots. I can’t believe I didn’t even think to check.
“Hey,” says Robin to Salieri, almost accusingly, “How’s your friend still solid?”
“I’m maintaining him,” answers Salieri, almost taken aback, “I can’t for long, but I can slow down his consumption. It’s a…” He glances back at Ritsuka and sees the same confused look on her face and his tone changes immediately, warmer. “class ability. Mana replenishment.”
“What class?” says Robin, in a tone that tracks, because I have never heard that one before either.
“…Avenger,” answers Salieri after a moment. ‘Avenger’? “You’re awake again,” he adds to Ritsuka in the most friendly tone I’ve heard from him, “Are you alright?”
“…Antonio?” asks Ritsuka, staring at him.
It takes him a second to realize why she looks that way, then he gives an, “Oh,” and flicks his wrist, and the helmet vanishes to reveal his face again.
“Oh—hi,” says Ritsuka, a little stunned still, “I’m sorry—I didn’t recognize you for a second—that’s really cool armor you have.”
He doesn’t look like he knows how to process or respond to that.
“I think I’m okay now. A little tired and sore, but pretty good actually—How about you? How are you feeling?” she adds. “Better? -I hope?”
Again, he seems taken off guard by the question, but he glances down at himself, then up at her. “I’m…alright. Certainly better than I was, at the least. Thank you.”
She smiles. “Good. Sorry I passed out before explaining anything.”
“Well, it’s no wonder,” he says, looking at the assembled people she’s keeping up, “And I think I’m fairly up to speed now.”
“Did you rescue him on your own?” asks Ritsuka, indicating Mozart. He nods. “And that’s Mozart? The composer?”
“Yes,” says Salieri with a very specific tone that I weirdly can’t place.
“Wow,” says Ritsuka. She hesitates and looks over the whole group before looking up and settling on me, “How long was I out?”
“I don’t think too long—maybe ten, fifteen minutes?” I suggest.
“You work fast,” she says to Salieri with a grin, “Thanks for saving him!”
Salieri, king of not knowing how to respond, looks back blankly for a moment then gives a hesitant nod.
“Uhm,” she continues, glancing up at me, “I think I can stand up now, if you put me down.”
“Oh! Sure thing,” I say, setting her down but keeping my hands up in case she isn’t as steady as she thinks. She’s not, but she catches herself just fine, then gives herself a second to get her sea legs back before trying to walk again.
“Sure you’re okay?” asks Robin.
She nods. “I’m just a little dizzy. I really do feel a lot better—I think I should be able to anchor another one of you just fine once he wakes up.”
“Are you sure though?” I ask, “You got six contracts runnin’ now, and the last one took you out for a little bit. –Don’t you think another one might knock you out even longer?”
“I don’t think so,” says Ritsuka, who in fairness is bouncing back wildly fast, “I know I passed out after making a contract, but I don’t really think that was why; I was already really faint before that—it happened during the fight with the gashadokuros—when that one popped out of the floor, and grabbed us? I think maybe it just hurt me a little or something, and I hadn’t recovered yet.”
“Oh,” I say, heart sinking a little.
“My ribs feel fine now though!” she assures me.
Yeah, I don’t really think it was the gashadokuro that did it. I feel kinda guilty, too, because I knew when I did it I was putting all of us at risk of vanishin’, but what else could I have done? …I mean, we were about to get smashed, and she’s supposed to be my top priority as a servant. Even though she said that ain’t what she wants, if I’m just pickin’ my own priorities for me, that’s still up top. Plus, we all made it, so it turned out okay.
“That was me, I think,” I admit.
She blinks at me and tilts her head.
“I used a noble phantasm,” I explain, “I’m sorry—I knew you were tapped out already, and we’d agreed we’d all have to not, because of about what happened when I did, but I didn’t see another sure way out of you and me gettin’ smashed—and it did work! And turned out fine—so.”
“But. I thought yours doesn’t take much mana?” she asks, confused.
“Well, Thunderer don’t,” I explain, “But I got more than one. Whole lot of us do. And they ain’t the same.”
Beside me, Robin gives a nod.
“Oh.” She thinks about that, then beams at me. “Well wait, that’s great then! If that’s all it was, I don’t have to worry about making contracts!”
I smile back.
“Oh—how’s the lancer doing?” asks Ritsuka, turning to Emiya, seeing for herself how he’s doing, and face falling a little, “He’s still not awake?”
“He was for a little, but he passed out again—probably when you did,” answers Emiya, “He’s weak, but he’s holding on. In his condition, it’s just going to take more of a mana flow to keep him awake than the rest of us.”
“Okay,” says Ritsuka thoughtfully, “Well. Since I’m awake, that means he’ll probably be feeling better again pretty soon too, right?”
Emiya gives a nod.
I wonder why he doesn’t tell her. I guess he doesn’t want her to worry about something she can’t fix, but I think she should know. I would tell her now, if Emiya and the lancer didn’t seem to be some kind of weird friends, because that means he might know and be doing what the lancer would want if he was up to pick for himself.
“Okay—can you let me know as soon as he wakes up?” she ask. He nods. “Did the plan go okay?”
I give a nod, and Robin says, “Sure thing—we left them on an upper level, made sure to give personnel a chance to flee, but scare them enough to motivate them. It’s gotten quiet too, so I expect they’ve un-summoned the things.”
“That’s amazing!,” she says, “Wow, everybody did a really good job on their own. Thank you—OH! Wait—Mozart—this means we’ve got all seven—six, I mean, right? –One for each catalyst?”
“Think so,” I agree.
“I haven’t sensed any more of us,” adds Emiya slowly, “Which should mean all that’s left is bringing the building down, and destroying research. Taking care of staff.”
Ritsuka looks worried by the last note there, but she nods seriously.
“So we go looking for heads of staff next?” I ask.
Emiya gives a nod.
“We should find the security office then—checking the tech will probably be the quickest way to find them,” says Robin, then with a sigh, “Damn shame we didn’t pick up an assassin. They’d have come in real handy right about now.”
Ritsuka turns to Salieri and David, I think because I’m gettin’ more used to her problem-solving style, to ask about Mozart’s class in case it’s Assassin, but when she gets a real look at Mozart with her full sense intact, what she was gonna say goes right out of her head and she freezes and just looks horrified instead. Then takes a little step closer and asks, “…What happened to him?”
“Some intricate curses,” answers King David, still playing his kinnor, “It’s a nasty bit of spell work, but I can undo it—I’m almost done. It’ll take a little for his vessel to repair itself after the curses are gone, especially with such a weak supply of magic, but it should work just fine.”
“We should get moving,” circles back Robin quietly to just Emiya and me, watching them, “The yokai scattered them pretty well for us, but that won’t last us forever. Don’t want to tempt fate here.”
“Which one was the kunai?” asks Emiya in the same tone.
“Huh?” I say, taking about five seconds to mentally shift subjects back to catalysts, “Oh. Uh.”
…Who was the kunai? I try to mentally figure this through. “Picture,” I say pointing to myself, then gesturing to Robin, “Coin.”
“Earring,” says Emiya, indicating the ones the lancer is wearing.
“Earring,” I echo in confirmation, then glance at King David and the other two. “…I…King David’s gotta be the pitcher, right? And one of them must be the letter, the other the knife—could Salieri be the kunai?”
“If it was a common dagger, maybe,” says Emiya, “But a kunai? For a classical Italian composer?”
He’s got a point.
“Let’s find out,” says Robin, then louder, to Salieri, King David, and Ritsuka, “—Hey—sorry, quick question. These people had six catalysts for sure, and we have found six of us now. But we’re not sure they match up. –Don’t want to leave someone behind, you know. So, aside from us, there was a pitcher, a kunai knife, and a letter. We’re assuming you weren’t the letter or the knife,” he adds to King David, who gives a nod.
“From that list, I would have to be the pitcher—it was probably an oil pitcher,” confirms King David.
“That leaves two, and two of you, but neither of you make sense for the kunai,” says Robin.
“No, we don’t,” agrees Salieri, glancing up from the body in his arms, “We were both the letter.”
“You were both the letter?” I ask.
“Yes. It was from him, about me,” says Salieri tiredly, “And it called us both.”
That’s the worst possible timing to get dual-summoned anywhere. Almost any other situation it would at least be nice to be in a foxhole with an old friend. Talk about grim luck, I think. “So we’re still one short?”
“…I guess,” says Emiya slowly, “Or they simply haven’t used it yet. It seems like most of you haven’t been here long yet, Lancer only a few days; we don’t really know what schedule they’re on. The research stations aren’t far from us or the security huh, though—If we go there first, we can probably find the answer.”
“That sounds smart,” says Ritsuka hopefully, “Let’s do that—we can’t leave somebody.”
“So was that a success?” Robin asks King David, glancing over at Mozart. The composer looks a lot better now. The glowing curses are gone, and while his body still looks kind of messed up, it looks a lot less on the verge of death. I guess that’s in line with what King David said. Still, poor guy is still pale and breathing shallow and weak. Whatever the spells were, they must have been hell on him.
“Yes, his vessel is resetting itself,” says King David proudly. He lets go of his kinnor and it vanishes. “It was some intensely specific spell work, they have a gifted and dangerous mage on staff. The mental effects should be already gone as they were more curse alone than inflicted physical damage, but it’ll just take however long it takes for his mana supply to replenish him enough to heal the rest.” He absently pats Mozart’s head once which almost startles Salieri. “Poor man. They really did a number.”
“Will it be enough?” Ritsuka asks, glancing up at Salieri, “To heal him okay, if it’s just from you? –I’d form a contract with him if he was awake, but, I can’t—I could give you a command spell though, for the energy, if you need it!”
“That’s kind,” says Salieri, “but you should keep them for true emergencies.” He looks at the man in his arms fondly and a little sadly. “I can tell he’s bouncing back remarkably fast as well, for all the damage done, so I expect he’ll be alright in a short time if things continue the way they are. He won’t be in danger of vanishing before that happens.”
“That’s good,” says Ritsuka, clearly relieved.
“We should get moving, then,” Robin almost interrupts, “We’ve already been in one place too long, and we can’t afford to lose momentum—especially if they’ve got tricks like earlier at their disposal. They seem to have temporarily lost us, and I’d love to keep it that way.”
“Right,” says Ritsuka, straightening up, “Okay—if David’s done, then let’s go.”
David gives a nod.
“Could one of you carry him?” asks Salieri hurriedly, like he’s afraid we’ll take off first.
It takes me a second to get that he means Mozart despite how obvious that should be, just because it’s so totally out of left field as a thing I’d expect him to say.
“I can continue to sustain his mana if I’m fairly close, and I can trade—I’ll take that one,” he adds quickly, indicating the lancer Emiya has, which visibly throws Emiya more than anything I’ve seen since Ritsuka calling him ‘Dad’, “—I have no trouble fighting while holding someone, but if I keep Mozart with me much longer, I may kill him.”
…
“You’ll what?” says Ritsuka.
“I. May kill him,” Salieri echoes himself quietly, glancing down at the unconscious body in his arms.
“…But.” says Ritsuka helplessly. Yeah.
“I thought you were friends?” I ask, lost myself.
“We are,” agrees Salieri, “Or—I am. I. Was—it’s complicated. I, Salieri, was his friend—am, his friend, but, I, as I am now—as the thing that has been carved onto the throne, am also his sworn enemy.” He’s struggling a little. It’s strange. Aside from the one time he went into hysterics he’s seemed as normal as the rest of us, but it’s suddenly like he’s trying really hard not to completely fall apart—not in a crying way—like he’s frazzled and shaky mentally all of a sudden, and struggling to ground himself. It…makes me sad. Almost agonized, he turns to Emiya and Robin like some last-ditch hope. “Tell me—you recognized my name. What do you know it from?”
Robin doesn’t answer, but Emiya says, “Stories. About you killing Mozart.” There’s something about his tone. Low, and something else too. Between pity and understanding. I think he gets what’s going on, even though I don’t yet. Though. …I think I might be afraid I’m starting to…
“Yes,” says Salieri bitterly, “That’s what everyone remembers, true or not, and so it is what the Throne wanted, and what the throne got.”
Oh.
Oh God. … I—s-shit. That’s…I’ve heard of that happening before, sort of. I’ve met people, just a few, that were a little like this—people from stories so many folks believed were true, the throne grabbed someone as like them as possible, and twisted them—fucked with their personalities and memory and abilities, and threw them on the throne as only a little who they were before, and a lot who it wanted to force them to be, to try and make someone who never was. I hadn’t thought about that happening with personal rumor—public opinion versus the truth, but of course it must. Which is…awful. …
“But you didn’t,” says Ritsuka, a question, but not at all a ‘did you?’—it’s very much a ‘so it doesn’t make sense?’.
Salieri glances at her and smiles a little sadly, exhales slow. “No. I didn’t. But that doesn’t get to matter for me now. I’m an Avenger.”
“I.” Ritsuka looks at him, then us, settles on Emiya, “I don’t know what that means.”
“They’re…embodiments of resentment,” says Emiya in a level tone, “Unlike us, associated with a legacy of skills or feats, they’re tied to an injury or hatred from their life, and manifested as an embodiment of that rage and the desire to chase it—to avenge.”
“So…You’re. …trapped?” she asks slowly, eyes big with worry as she turns back to face Salieri. He watches her solemnly with a kind of resigned, quiet sadness I recognize very well. “As…the desire to. ...”
“Kill him,” finishes Salieri for her simply, “And a personification of hatred of him as well. Always.”
“That’s awful,” says Ritsuka.
He tries to smile at her. “Yes. But there’s no escaping it. I ask only that you take precautions, with both of us here. It will be difficult, perhaps impossible, for me to do so on my own.”
She looks at him, then down at the floor, fist clenched, thinking hard. “But,” she says desperately as she looks up at him again, “But you didn’t do it—you’re still you. From before. You remember everything, right? You said—And you think like you, and—and when I was unconscious, you went and rescued him all on your own; you didn’t kill him!”
“Yes, you could say that,” says Salieri quietly, looking at something far past all of us, and I think maybe long ago, before returning to the present, “But it would be as fair to say that I am only a small part of him—of who I was. And that I am also very much the fabricated Man in Grey whose purpose and desire is to kill him. As well as a manifestation of people’s lies, and their hatred, and my hatred of them for it. I am more than one thing; I am enough things now that I could not say with certainty which one I am even the most, or if I am one the most at all, or if I am truly any of them, but I can say with absolute certainty that I cannot be trusted to stay the one I or you would wish for an entire summons.” He looks at her sadly. “I told you when you offered me a contract that I am dangerous. Not to you, not if you’re careful. But I am afraid I will not be as useful as you would wish. Despite my best efforts…”
“But,” says Ritsuka again, “No—it’s not about that. It’s—"
“—Think of it as like a command spell,” offers Emiya gently, taking a step up to be beside her, “But woven into him on summon, instead of lasting a short time. Even if he’s still who he was, none of us can resist compulsion forever. That’s not his fault or something you can fix for him. It wasn’t added to his manifestation here—it’s an integral part of it. Let him be careful.”
There’s something he doesn’t say, but I hear it just the same, from his tone and his expression, and the one on Salieri’s face. That this is Salieri’s way of trying to be himself, by achieving the goal he’d have wanted, even if it can only be attained by keeping himself at arm’s length and gunpoint.
And I think he’s right.
Ritsuka I think gets it too, at least mostly. She looks from him to Salieri in distress, then lets out a breath and nods. “Okay. …I’m sorry,” she adds, looking up at Salieri with so much sorrow on her face.
He smiles weakly. “Thank you, Master.”
“Oh,” she says worriedly, “please don’t call me that—you can just call me Ritsuka.”
He cocks his head at her.
“Like I said before,” she continues hopefully, “I don’t want a servant—I just want to help.”
“Oh?” says King David, who I’m realizing didn’t get the pitch when we snagged him. He seems both amused and happy about this development.
“Very well, then,” says Salieri, with a little half-bow.
“Oh—and you—” she adds, “Do you prefer Antonio? Or Salieri? Or Mr. Salieri?-“
“Salieri is fine,” he responds.
“Salieri,” she echoes in confirmation.
“Alright then, let’s get moving—Like Robin said, we’ve already lingered here too long,” says Emiya, moving forward and offering an arm, “I can carry him.”
“Alright, I’ll take yours then,” says Salieri.
“I can take both,” replies Emiya.
“But then how will you fight?” asks Ritsuka.
“Oh for crying out loud,” exclaims Robin, cutting off whatever reply Emiya was about to give and shooting him a look, then turning to Salieri and holding out his own arms, “Here—I’ll take him.”
Salieri passes the body carefully to Robin, though he looks unhappy about doing it.
“Oh—your cloak,” says Ritsuka, taking it off and handing it to Robin.
He glances back and takes it with a wink, casually slinging it over his shoulder, “Next time I lend this, you might want to actually use the invisibility.”
“Well, I did as long as I could,” she tries, but he’s already grinning at her, and she gets she’s being teased and smiles back.
“Let’s move,” calls out Emiya, a little annoyed now, and he takes off. Robin follows, but Salieri and King David both hesitate and glance at Ritsuka.
“I got ‘er!” I call, snagging her with an arm and bolting off after the others. She makes a surprised sound between a laugh and a yelp and then grins at me. I think it must be fun, going this fast when you’re still a human. I woulda enjoyed it for sure. Really should bring her goggles though—what if we have to go really fast at some point? I file that away.
Behind me, Salieri follows close, King David taking up the rear. I’m very glad we got Emiya on the team, because he’s got a good sense of direction and an ability to channel his mana into physical objects to read layouts and mechanical workings. I mean, we’re all not bad at figuring the layout of anywhere as heroic spirits, but the level he’s on is truly impressive. Guess Ritsuka got the summon answer she really needed after all.
As one, we dart down halls and through an empty gallery. Instead of hitting the elevator shaft again, now that they know we’re here, Emiya snaps a hole through the floor above with his bow and just takes the fast route from point A to point B. I can sense people nearby and a lot of mana not far above us myself now. I take a corner right after Robin and by the time I’m in the next hall Emiya has already downed six of eight guards, and Robin is taking shots at the next two. They are quite a tag-team, but I have a strong feeling they would both hate being told that.
“They were surprised,” Emiya informs us mentally, “It appears the distraction with the gashadokuro worked better than expected—they seem scattered.”
We race through this floor, passing offices and closed doors. I sense a large amount of mana behind one, and Emiya must too because he stops to kick it down. There’s no one inside, but there’s an automated familiar defense system, and a bunch of little magecraft wasps fill the air in a swarm. My gut tells me they got some kind of poison, and I slide to the side to take Ritsuka out of the line of fire before taking some shots at the swarm from the cover of the doorway. I’m thinkin’ Emiya, Robin, and I can all easily deal with this, but it’s gonna be hard not to damage everything in the room doing so, when I suddenly hear the sound of a grand piano behind me and turn in I think the only emotion one can have hearing a grand piano where it shouldn’t be, to see Salieri with the faint glowing outline of a phantasmal instrument at his fingertips. His fingers flash across the keys with precision and incredible force, and myriad of little grey figures appear between us and the swarm and destroy them in a flash of light.
“Thanks,” I say, kinda stunned. He gives a nod.
Emiya has wasted no time and is already inside, searching.
“What? Why did we stop here?” Ritsuka asks me.
“Something with a lot of mana was inside—we couldn’t tell what,” I reply, then to Emiya, “What was it?”
“Yours,” says Emiya by way of answer, stepping back out and chucking Robin his coin, which he catches in surprise and then turns over in his fingers with a very hard to read expression on his face. “Yours,” he adds to King David, tossing a clay pitcher, “And yours,” he adds, handing Salieri a very old letter in a sealed package.
“Where’s mine?” I ask at the same time King David says, “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“I can carry it!” volunteers Ritsuka, “I brought a backpack!”
He can’t seem to think of a reason not to, and gives it to her.
“Yours wasn’t in there,” says Emiya, “Neither was the kunai, or the earring.”
Huh. I…guess maybe it means they were already setting up a circle somewhere, to try and drag me back. That’s a great feeling…
Nothing to do about it though, so I give a nod and let myself puzzle through that while we move towards our target. There are a lot of alarms going off throughout the building now, which isn’t good, but I am starting to notice as we go that the security cameras aren’t tracking our movement. Emiya was taking care of them earlier, but I haven’t seen him do that in a bit—I think we’re past caring. But…
We hit the end of this floor and move up again, right through the floor like before. I hear Emiya’s voice in my head say, “Focus up. We’re nearing the research stations.”
He’s right. The layout of this building has been fairly similar before now, long halls, large rooms, similar numbers of rooms per floor. Interspersed with open areas like walking intersections. This floor is different. We come up in an abandoned office room, but the second we exit it, I see a huge metal door blocking us. I can feel the enchantments on it too—and it’s not just blocking a room, it’s making the entire rest of this floor inaccessible. On top of that, the thing fuckin’ looks like the entrance to a bank vault.
“Talk about extra,” Robin says, thinkin’ the same thing I’m feelin’. He glances at Emiya. “Can you tell if there’s any weakest point to the bounded field?”
Emiya touches the field, and it seems to shock him. He snaps back his hand and shakes it, then reaches his hand up like he’s going to call one of his swords, stops, and grimaces. “…It’s strong, but it’s far from the best one of theirs I’ve seen. I could break it right here, but it might put too much strain on our master.”
“-Ritsuka,” corrects Ritsuka.
“Ritsuka,” he echoes in our heads. He studies the door, then places his hand on the wall beside it, just before where I can sense the bounded field begin, and I feel a surge of mana from him. “I can point you to the weakest spots in the walls, but you’ll have to break the outer seal with your phantasm,” he informs me, “The rest of us don’t have the firepower right now.”
“Let’s go,” I agree, setting Ritsuka down and drawing my gun.
Emiya summons his bow and blows through a wall on our left easily, then indicates a spot to me on the forward wall, about eleven feet beside the door, and 3/4th the way up the wall. “There’s humans past this. Be ready to fight,” he warns us mentally.
I step up. “Let’s do this here and now.” I feel mana from Ritsuka flood me and level my gun with a surge of energy, “Fire!” The bullets tear into the wall and there’s one moment where they’re there in the wall, stuck on the bounded field, still pushing forward but not moving, like watching a fish try and break free from a net, then the bullets win and the wall shatters in a mass of metal and magic shrapnel. Emiya throws up a shield that looks like flower petals to me between us and the debris, and the second the initial burst is over, he dives in through the haze of dust. We all go with him, weapons ready. And he was right—there are people. About six mages sit at workstations, two of them already on their feet, shouting warnings and sending spells our way. There are four guard on our right side, and I can hear more people in the next room too. The first mage up summons a line of long needles, and is tactical enough to send them flying not at Emiya, but at Ritsuka past all of us. I move to deflect them, but Robin does the same ahead of me, furious, knocking them out of the way with his bracer and drawing on the mage who sent them, sending a bolt from his crossbow into their shoulder. The next one is smarter, summoning two golems from the ground to buy time. Robin takes a shot at one just before Emiya physically collides with it, ripping it to shreds with his shortswords, then spinning on his heel and taking the head off the second one. Panicked, the mage starts to cast another spell, but I hit him in the side before he can, and he goes down. It is real hard hitting someone deep enough with a gun that they go down for good, but don’t die, but I am tryin’ my best here. For the little boss.
The other four mages are all up now, and the guards have drawn their guns. King David’s gone in a flash, reappears by the heavily armored group, and starts taking them down with a shepherd’s staff which has to be one of the most cool things I’ve ever witnessed. He’s so floaty. Keeps springboarding off their machine guns when they try to take a shot and kicking them in the head, spinning around in the air and bringing his staff down right on top of another’s helmet. Springboards off that one’s chest as they fall back, then off the first one he hit too to project himself towards the last two, ramming his staff into both their necks at once.
Pretty sure he’s got that covered, I turn my attention back to the remaining four mages. One of them has summoned an arc shield around herself and the woman next to her, while the other is firing bolts of energy at Emiya and Robin from inside, and the other two have split up, one using mana to accelerate their own movement and try to move to flank us, the other getting some distance and trying to coordinate with the others by firing off stuns at range. He actually gets a hit on Emiya’s sword when the guy goes to deflect it in the middle of bringing down a golem and dodging another bolt, not catching it’s a stun in time, but he shakes it off somehow almost instantaneously—That’s right. The bounded field didn’t do much to him before, did it? Or not for long. Maybe he did know what that was. He’s good at that kind of thing. I call behind me to Salieri to take care of the flanker, and take a shot at the guy firing stuns. He manages to summon a shield fast enough to deflect my first shot, but the second one shatters it, and the third slams him in the shoulder and knocks him hard against the far wall hard enough he goes down.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Salieri pull what looks like violin strings made of blood from out of his own neck, and use his sword like a bow. Bursts of magic slam into the floor in front of the mage trying to flank us, and they fall partway through the floor and are left unable to dodge the last shot, which slams them squarely in the head and leaves them unconscious. I hope. Haha shit. We forgot to tell him Ritsuka pleaded with us to go non-lethal, huh? Whoops…
Ahead of me, the mage in the shield realizes that hitting Emiya isn’t going to work, and takes a shot at the unconscious lancer on his shoulder instead to throw him off. This has the opposite effect. Emiya barely rotates to keep the guy on his shoulder from being shot, then flings his shortswords at the barrier with so much force it shatters, and he’s in there almost as fast, catching the mage by the throat and flinging her into the far wall. Robin slides in and sweeps the feet out from the other, then knocks her unconscious with an elbow.
“Next room!” calls Emiya, indicating the same door I heard noise behind myself. The faster we go, the less chance they have to set up defenses. It occurs to me all of a sudden we have not assigned someone to bodyguard Ritsuka—a potentially fatal oversight—and slide back to stay with her as ahead of me, Emiya takes down the next door.
“Stay close, okay?” I ask her, trying to reassure her because she looks incredibly overwhelmed. Guess for your average teenager this is a whole lot of intense violence.
“Y-Yeah,” she manages, a little pale.
Shit.
“Hey, Salieri,” I call to him mentally, “Forgot to mention—Ritsuka bein’ a soft-hearted teenager, really wants us to kill as few folks as possible.”
“I’ve been informed,” he responds the same way, “She begged me to be merciful when I went to attack.”
I check with the senses I have as a servant to see if I can pick up the sound of the guy breathing from here. I can. Damn, I think, watching Salieri follow the others, And you held back. Guess you really like her too.
“Don’t worry—we’re doing what we promised,” I tell Ritsuka, “I can hear the heartbeats. –We’re holdin’ back.”
That seems to reassure her, and she gives me a nod. I pick her up and run after the others. They’re already breaking into a fight when I make the door. Less people here—just a couple security officers guarding the room, two people working tech diagnostics of some kind at terminals connected to a very large databank, plus one mage who seems to be overseeing things. The tech workers have taken one look at us and gone for the smartest human solution—an attempt to surrender—and curled up under one of the desks with their hands over their heads. The mage is shouting at them, and us, and security. One of the security members tries to shoot us, but King David lands a shot from his slingshot down the barrel faster than he can pull the trigger, and the weapon explodes on the guy. Emiya launches a couple swords at the other and pins him to a wall. The mage throws up a hand and starts to summon something, but I cap him in the knee and he falls to the ground cursing, then gets a kick to the head from Robin that lays him flat.
Beside us, Emiya flips the desk the tech workers are under and sends it skittering across the room and they both scream and try to crawl back. He’s way too fast to avoid, though, and darts past them, hitting them both behind the neck in passing, and they collapse, unconscious.
Emiya informs us mentally we’re almost to the core research station. That means probably a lot of people.
“When we get there, we’ll be able to find out if they summoned the last one?” checks Ritsuka.
“Probably,” comes Emiya’s reply, “Unless they’ve predicted us and flushed the system, we should be able to, so the faster we go in, the better.”
“Do you think they know where we are right now? The defenses have been surprisingly uncoordinated,” says Robin, flexing his fingers absently to keep them limber.
“There’s something wrong with security,” agrees Emiya, “Like we guessed before. Whatever is happening, it’s clearly deliberate, and I think it’s likely at this point we can agree it’s not a trap—it’s someone working towards their own goal.”
“Oh yeah! There definitely is! Someone was helping me earlier,” cuts in Ritsuka, “—I forgot-“
“-You forgot?” asks Robin.
“So much happened!” says Ritsuka, “But yeah, you were right,” she adds, turning to Emiya, “Someone is either helping us, or trying to hurt Ur-shanabi—or both—because they opened the door to Salieri’s cell for me, and sent me a message to go in.”
“Oh my god and she went,” says Robin so quiet only I can hear him. I feel him. You’re so nice but that sounds like such an obvious trap, I think, feeling the same distressed emotion I hear in Robin’s voice.
She reads the look on our faces. “Well, it worked! And they didn’t try and hurt me at all,” she pleads, “So my intuition was right!”
“I understand trusting your gut, and I respect that,” says Emiya very tiredly, “But please. Don’t do that in every suicidal situation that presents itself to you?”
“—Either way, that’s good, right?” says Ritsuka, “It helps us.”
“It does,” concedes Emiya in an exhausted done, “Probably, anyway. I wish you’d given us the full version earlier, because we really can’t postpone hitting the hub any longer without giving them way too much time to flush information or prepare. Once we’re out, please tell us everything.”
“Right,” says Ritsuka with a nod, serious now, “Sorry.”
He returns the nod. Then gets an annoyed look on his face. “…Shit, if whoever is attacking Ur-shanabi is tapped in enough they’re communicating openly and controlling security feeds and doors for extended periods of time, we might run into trouble trying to hit the security station to find organization heads. We might not be able to access their information there at all.”
Oh. Shit… “What then?” I ask, “We still try and figure it out if that fails?”
“It’ll be dangerous to try and comb the whole building, if it comes that,” offers Salieri thoughtfully, “We should move preemptively if we can.”
“He has a point,” agrees Emiya. He considers. “Robin, you’re by far the best scout here. You should split off and try and find any head offices or command centers they have, or any leads on where leadership might be that you can find. If security is totally down, that’s the best shot we’ve got.”
Robin gives a nod and flips up his hood.
“Will you be okay alone?” Ritsuka asks worriedly.
“Sure he will,” I answer for him, “I never knew anybody better at keeping a low profile in a tight situation.”
Robin snorts and gives me a smile. “Something like that. –Who’s taking the composer?”
“I can,” says King David, happily taking Mozart from Robin and slinging him over both shoulders like he’s carrying a sheep. I feel like maybe I oughtta volunteer, since I ain’t at all so far, but I’m even shorter than King David…
“Alright. Best of luck,” says Robin with a two-fingered solute. He activates May King and vanishes.
“Okay!” Ritsuka calls after him, “But if you get into trouble, call to me, and I’ll use a spell!”
I hear him laugh quietly. “Well if that ain’t familiar,” he says, the sound of a smile in his voice, and he’s gone then.
“Okay—let’s be quick,” says Emiya, to the rest of us, “Last time they figured out where we were, they sent yokai after us.”
#fate go fic#the kid (fic)#the kid#fate grand order#fate go au#fate go au fic#fate fic#billy the kid#emiya archer#fate salieri#fate billy the kid#ritsuka fujimaru#fate robin hood#fate king david#writing
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Pins and Needles (Newsies Gang AU)
Chapter 3
Description: Davey's and Les' first day as Newsies and they already meet the famous Katherine Plumber.
words: 1675
warnings: There's no warnings on this chapter but if I did miss something triggering, feel free to tell me.
A/N: I know that there are only approximately two people and a shoelace who are even interested in this story but still - I'm sorry for not having updated this in ages. I kinda had a big writer's block which I've overcame for now, I guess, but we'll see how long that may last.
Also, just stating the obvious here but considering latest complications between my gender and me, I changed my username from "daughterofcalliope" to "offspring-of-calliope", I hope that's not too confusing.
As always, feel free to tell me if I've made some mistakes considering grammar or spelling. Comments in general are very appreciated.
I hope you enjoy it at least a little bit,
Sincerely me,
Lélo
-----
If David had thought that the Manhattan Newsies had been loud before, now he was convinced that the concept of volume got a whole new meaning when being around these boys. Selling with them was like sitting in the front row of an opera performance you hadn't even planned to attend.
David sighed. His thoughts were so misleading that he feared that people who he'd tell them to might think he hated the Manhattan Newsies. It was quite the opposite. Despite his urge to keep everything in order, to not overstep boundaries and to behave like a mature boy his age, being with the chaos that were the Manhattan Newsies filled his insides with joy.
The people he talked to at school couldn't really classify as real friends, seeing as their discussions were always aimed at topics they'd covered in their lessons or some other things that didn't relate a lot to something like free time. They were always so serious and David sometimes felt as if the other people didn't even want to talk to him more than absolutely necessary. With the Newsies, it was different. Some of them were even regularly trying to include him in their conversations, to find out about him as a person. Ironically, every one of them seemed to make a better spy than him, who couldn't even think of important questions to ask them that would lead to something that Sarah could work with.
Right after leaving the circulation gate, some kids named Kid Blink – a guy with an eyepatch and a charming smile –, Race – who constantly had an unlit cigar dangling between his lips – and Jojo – who had the most animated facial expression David had ever witnessed – had pestered him to tell them if Italian or Spanish was the more beguiling language. (While they'd been bickering, David had started to regret telling them that he was currently teaching himself Spanish. That had been the trigger that had started his inclusion to the debate.) The whole conflict had been postponed when a guy named Romeo had loudly declared that neither Spanish nor Italian was the real answer and that no language was as enthralling as his love language. Then, he'd proceeded to lure a pretty woman to buy a paper from him – the other Newsies were too nice to make him aware of the fact that she'd only bought the pape to escape his flirting – by sweetly talking in a language David didn't know. (It had been Tagalog, as Jack had later explained to him.)
Yet in his defence, David had also managed to overhear some conversations that hadn't been for him to hear – cue his bad conscience. One conversation in particular had irritated him. Some redhead – Albert was his name, he distantly recalled – had at one point asked Race if “it was cloudy up there”. That in itself hadn't been confusing since it was indeed very cloudy this day but Race's answer had been: “Oh, don't worry, I was just thinkin' 'bout somethin'. Everything's sunny as could be.” The sun didn't even shine! But maybe that was just a code David simply didn't understand.
“Sing 'em to sleep, will ya?” A voice was breaking through his thoughts and David only now registered that he had been blaring the words “Extra, extra! Does somebody want a paper?” for quite some time without actively concentrating on actually selling some newspapers.
The owner of the voice, Jack, - because of course it was Jack, why did Jack always seem to be near him? - took the most recent newspaper from his hand and exclaimed: “Extra, extra! Terrifying flight from burnin' inferno! You can hear the story right here!” It didn't take long for some guy to come and buy the paper.
David scoffed. “This story isn't even in the paper.”
“Well, I didn't say that, did I?” Jack retorted, a cheeky grin on his face.
“My father taught us not to lie,” David said, clutching the remaining newspapers in his hand tighter. He didn't want Jack to take papers from him again, or else it might become a habit for the other boy.
Jack only shook his head, holding one of his own papers into the air. “And mine taught me not to starve. Seems we both got an education.”
“Jack, Jack, look how few papes I got left now! I did everything you said I should do and the people just wouldn't stop buying the papes!” An excited Les ran over to them, smiling brightly and holding up some money for David to put away. “This is so much better than school,” he added.
“Don't even think it.” David tried his best to put on his strict-older-brother face.
A few feet away, Jack laughed. “At least someone listens to me.”
“Yeah, maybe if you'd start to actually say some things that are true, it'll be something worth listening to,” David answered. He didn't even know where the sudden burst of confidence came from. At first it had been difficult for him to focus around the leader of the Manhattan Newsies. However, after getting to know Jack a little, focusing was still difficult but now he couldn't suppress taking out his frustration on the other boy.
“I see you're making a habit out of attracting people who will put you in your place some time.” Suddenly there was another voice and upon turning around, David surprisingly found himself face to face with Katherine Plumber.
“Hello, Miss. Can I interest you in the latest news?” Jack said and his smile grew somehow even bigger. It made David's stomach twitch.
Katherine chuckled and held her hands up. The fabric of her dress wrinkled around her elbows and David noticed some spots on her clothes that were patched up. He'd always assumed that rich people would just buy new clothes when their old ones were torn but apparently Katherine didn't fit this assumption. “I'm sorry to disappoint you, Kelly, but I've bought two papers already. One from Specs this morning, the other from the little boy here.” She was pointing at Les. “He truly is a talented student of yours.”
“Hey!” Les exclaimed. “I'm not that little!”
“Of course not! But compared to Jack's ego, everything is little,” Katherine conceded amused.
Jack, who had somehow managed to sell a paper during the former exchange, crossed his arms before his chest. “Why are you all hating on me now? First Davey, then ya, too. That reminds me – Les, Davey, meet the wonderful Katherine Plumber. Kath, that's Davey and his brother Les.”
It seemed as if Katherine only now started to examine David closer. It made him so nervous that he completely forgot to tell her that it was actually David and not Davey – nobody had ever called him Davey before and he didn't know what to think of that – and without further ado, his hands started to flutter. Eventually, Katherine smiled and said, “Nice to meet you both. Say, do we know each other already? I feel like I've seen you before.”
Panic bubbled up in David's stomach. Did she somehow know that he was Sarah's brother? What if she suspected something and the whole charade – which hadn't really been that good to begin with – blew up? He looked over to Les, maybe to search for help, maybe to feel a little more at ease. And then he remembered that indeed, he had talked to Katherine before. Relieved, he let out a breath. “Yes, we already met each other once. Or better, we talked once on the street. I'm a big admirer of your work, Miss Plumber.”
“Oh, please, just call me Katherine. Kath is fine as well, friends of Jacks are also friends of mine. And thank you, I appreciate that. Perhaps we could talk more about this topic another time? I'm kind of in a rush right now but I would like to hear your opinion on some of my articles – I got this feeling that lately, something is missing but I haven't really been able to figure out, what.” Katherine was just as modest and friendly as he remembered. It was interesting that she also had a teasing side on her when it came to Jack, apparently.
David blushed. “It would be an honour, really.”
“Great,” Katherine said, then proceeded to pat both his and Les' shoulders. “Kelly, it was nice seeing you, maybe I'll stop by the lodging house later.”
“Well, it's not like you's paid a lota attention to me,” Jack retorted with a teasing grin. “Don't flirt with my colleagues that much, a boy might get jealous.”
David only registered Katherine's laugh after that. He didn't really know why but something in him refused to listen further. Well, he did know why but it was totally unfair and irrational of him to be jealous of Katherine. It was not like he was interested in Jack or something. The boy was frustrating and distracting, always had a snarky remark on his tongue and – as even Katherine had said – had a really big ego.
That was also really fragile, at least as far as he could see. The way Jack's smile had faltered for a second upon Kath's remark. The way he wouldn't take credit for the thoughtful things he'd do, like tying Crutchie's shoelaces or trying to help Romeo to court a pretty girl that had watched them doing an impromptu dance performance for a while.
“Hey, Davey.” Breath on his ear, Jack's presence right next to his – didn't he know of some thing called personal space? “If ya keep starin' at Kath like that, maybe I should draw a picture of her and pin it to yer head for a day, aye?”
David sighed and elbowed Jack in the side. Forget the thoughts of Jack being thoughtful – the boy was such an idiot.
#Newsies#newsies fanfiction#newsies fanfic#javid#jack kelly#david jacobs#davey jacobs#les jacobs#sarah jacobs#racetrack higgins#kid blink#jojo de la guerra#crutchie newsies#romeo newsies#katherine plumber#katherine plumber pulitzer#newsies musical#canon era#writer#writing
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Carry You Home • Eric Dier (Part 2)
Part 1
"I knew I'd find you here" that voice that you've learned to recognise by now, Eric's voice, comes from behind you. You sigh, giving one last look at the room in front of you before turning around.
Five days have passed since that episode, three of which you stopped by the hospital to get updates on the baby's condition. You were back to your normal life but your mind was always returning to him. You had tried to find a logical explanation, assuming it was because you had found him - or saved him as that nurse always says.
Your heart only found peace when you saw him, happy to see him away from the blanket, happy to know that he was eating alone, that he was fine. Even though he was still struggling to breathe and had that cannula on his nose to help him.
The night before you went to sleep you wondered what would happen to him. He would certainly have entered the system, gone into foster care. And so he would find a good family, good people who could take care of him? It took you a long time to fall asleep, but ironically, thinking about him could reconcile your sleep.
"Hi" you smile softly at the boy who does the same, you hadn't been completely honest with him in the last few days. Eric knew that the day after the hospitalisation, you went back to visit him but he didn't know that you had kept going. Even though coming to look for you there claimed he knew you much better than you thought.
Eric moves next to you, his eyes going through the glass to the well known place where the little one is resting peacefully.
"I know we said-"
"I came to see him after training the other day" he interrupts you, leaving you speechless.
After your solo visit, you promised not to come back and try to put the episode aside by moving on with your lives. A decision made to not get attached, having done a good action had to be the basis to make you feel good.
The next day, however, you had fallen for it again. One last time to say goodbye to him, you said to yourself. And instead you went back again and again.
Eric, on the other hand, had really found himself there by chance. He had approached the car quickly looking forward to warming up after a long day out training, and his eyes fell on that blanket as he put his bag in its usual place. And he simply thought that a short stop wouldn't hurt anyone.
You squeeze his hand, feeling a strange vibe at that admission, but you're unable to give a proper reading to it.
-------
"We can't go on like this" that statement comes as an unexpected slap, it hurts but it's the truth and it's a wake-up call.
Eric comes and sits next to you holding your hands between his to comfort you. You know it's the right thing to do but you can't stop your eyes from filling up with tears.
"We really have to (Y/N). Sooner or later they will discharge him and take him away and we have to stop while we can" it costs him so much to admit it even to himself, but he feels that if one of you doesn't put a stop to it seriously, the further you go the more complicated it will become to handle it.
"I know" a gasp comes out of your lips as you try to take deep breaths and calm down, "I know. I just... I can't explain it"
"What do you say if-if we go one last time to say goodbye to him? Together and for real this time" he proposes and in a second endless thoughts can really go through somebody's mind. That moment before you nod and then throw yourself into his arms is one of the longest moments ever.
Maybe it's not the case, you think. Maybe knowing that it really is the last time, that you will have to do everything to not give in from that moment on, will make it even more difficult. But Eric is right, it's better to put some distance between us now than to have the patch torn off when it's too late.
--------
How can people forget about someone they have met, who have left a mark along the way, who have changed us in some way by making us open our minds or change.
The truth is that we don't forget, the feelings given are incorporated within us and gradually shaped us. Like a clay pot that has to be shaped, a person makes a change, makes us grow, destroys us and remodels us. Every episode we face adds or removes a piece, and the final work is never really the end because the clay can always be remodelled.
As soon as you arrived, you went on your way expertly. Only once you arrived in front of the room, your little space was empty. That crib you had stared at for the previous days was empty and a sense of panic had overwhelmed both of you, immediately thinking the worst.
Then a nurse, the same as always who had followed you from the beginning, who had seen you arrive separately but with a common purpose, who in many years of her career had witnessed few similar situations, came to your rescue.
She had brought you in front of another glass and happily pointed to a crib, at the bottom right. Because that little miracle no longer needed the little tube with oxygen and could stay with the other newborn babies, on which he was the biggest. The joy had been so great that needless to say, other tears had appeared.
You and Eric had watched him for a long time, happy that he had improved in such a short time and that he hadn't suffered any permanent damage because of the way he had been abandoned. You could have stayed there forever if it hadn't been for another couple who had approached to admire one of the other newborn and without any mischievousness asked which one was yours.
Another bubble, yet another one, had burst and brought you back to reality.
--------
You feel emptied of everything at that moment, so many contrasting emotions that together create an absolute void. Nothing makes sense anymore and your head can no longer think clearly.
An opportunity had been created, one that will surely change your lives and on which you cannot make hasty decisions. It had run across you like a running train, and yet you had never felt so alive in your life.
Almost ten days had passed since that evening, since arriving at the hospital with that almost cyanotic bundle in your arms and the shock in your eyes. Three since the day you had decided to say goodbye to him. Two from the unexpected proposal.
The phone call had been a bit of a surprise, you had both been summoned by the hospital management. You thought it was about the baby, but at first, when you discussed it with Eric, you thought it was more of a scolding on their part. It wasn't normal for strangers, even though they were involved in the situation, to go back and forth to the hospital to check on a complete stranger after all. You thought they would tell you to stay away from that unit, that you had taken advantage of their kindness for too long now; you laughed thinking they would arrest you for stalking or something like that.
You had apologized to the manager once in her office at the time of the meeting, you knew it was unhealthy what you were doing and explained to her that it would never happen again. Both in fear like two students in front of the principal. But you weren't there for that.
The woman had spoken a lot about the child's condition and thanked you once again for your charitable act. Then she started talking about foster care, numbers, adoptions, filling your head with words upon words while you were still trying to make sense of it all.
And then the bomb had been dropped. The woman was asking you to adopt that child, to give him a loving and welcoming home, to continue to fill him with attention and love. To give him a family.
--------
"Do you think we could do it?" you hold a cushion in your arms, sitting on the sofa in front of Eric, legs crossed. You had asked for a few days to think about it and well you had a lot to discuss.
"Well we're both in our 30s, we're both going to start a family sooner or later, aren't we?"
"Yeah but... can we make it with a kid that's not ours? Are we mature enough?" Eric reaches out to hit your thigh and get your attention. He can't lie, the proposal came in like a bucket of cold water. The doubts are many, but for his part, he feels that the proposal has connected all the pieces: the worry, the constant desire to know how he was doing and make sure with his own eyes. And he might not show it, leaving the emotional part to you, but in those few days his whole world turned upside down. He doesn't know how to explain it in order to make sense of it, but the focus of everything is that little creature.
"Listen, I have faith in us. We can do it, if that's what you want too, if we are on the same page. It doesn't matter that we didn't conceive him, he will always be ours. We will have plenty of tough challenges ahead of us, but we will do it together. And we will raise him in exactly the same way as all those who will come after him"
"Do you realize you have already included him in an us?" your voice shaking as you follow with your gaze as he rises on his knees before approaching you, being careful not to fall.
"Everything makes sense now (Y/N), everything makes sense. Think about it, you me and him, here. Playing or watching him grow. First steps, first word, the lullabies to put him to sleep. You as his mother-"
"And you as his daddy" you say in a whisper, your eyes shining with emotion.
"I want to have a baby with you (Y/N), I want to have that baby with you"
"I can see that" you can whisper before his lips meet yours, first in an urgent kiss then sweeter and mixed with your tears of joy.
-------
A few days and everything is ready to make your home welcoming for the new member of your family. It's still strange to say that word in relation to you two, soon three. It all sounds like a dream but it's not, it's all true and in a few hours it will be even more so.
"We're going to be terrible parents, we should be asleep right now" you complain by resting your forehead on your legs curled up to your chest in a dramatic way, Eric's laugh coming to your ears right afterwards.
"I'm too excited and worried to sleep, we'll have time for that"
"Oh really?!" you look at him badly while he holds you tight, disguising another giggle in your neck.
"And just for the record, we're gonna make great parents"
"Why? I mean, what makes you say that?" he lifts his head from your shoulder, suddenly more serious.
"(Y/N) I love you and you love me, this seems to me the most important thing to start with" you smile looking ahead of you, "and then the rest will come by itself, nobody prepares you to be a parent and we certainly haven't had nine months to get the idea but we will work hard to be the best possible version of us"
"I'm sure you'll be his favourite" you mumble, caressing his cheek and he grins leaving a kiss on your lips, "Of course, you'll be the one banning us from having fun..."
"I didn't sign up for this"
"Oh darling, you signed up for this and much more"
-------
One last look between you two and a deep breath before you enter that hospital, ready to start the most exciting day of your lives so far.
Your heart is beating like crazy, your legs are shaking as if they were made of jelly, but there is a bright smile on your faces.
Finally that tag is no longer empty, the miracle child has an identity. Now he is a Dier, he has a name and a surname and people who are willing to love him forever by his side. And it's beautiful.
It's like a deja-vu, with the nurse who makes you approach him and asks if you want to pick him up. But this time no one runs away in tears, those are always there but this time it's because the little one is finally in your arms. Now you can let yourself go with your imagination, you can get attached to him, you can hold him and smell his perfume while the little one is already settled and waiting for you to carry him home.
Tag: @emwritesfootball @footballdaydream @alexajanecollins
#eric dier#eric dier imagine#eric dier imagines#football imagines#football imagine#my writing#original#carry you home
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The Firsts / #2 “The First Time Bringing Him Home”
*not my gif*
---> NEXT BLURB: I hope that I can put it out on October 19th, following the every other week rule, but I’m not sure with my busy schedule. Keep an eye out for updates on the series masterlist!
---> READ BLURB #1
READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST
SERIES MASTERLIST
READ ON WATTPAD
-> SHOULD I CREATE A TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES? IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED, LET ME KNOW! :)
LEGEND:
+ : a break in the story; a time jump.
italicized words : a flashback.
WARNINGS: None
WORD COUNT: 10.7k words (!!!)
SONG: And I Love Her by The Beatles (CLICK TO LISTEN)
* SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *
“A tear collects at the corner of my eye, reminding me that at times like these, I expect to blink and it’ll all be gone. I wait for myself to wake up from the dream, and to have him ripped away from me, just like all of those other times he was. But it doesn’t, because how could my dreams beckon for me when my life was finally better than anything I could dream about?“
“She thinks that there’s one soul out there, just for her. One that will stay by her side forever and that someday, she’ll find it.”
- Kazuya Kujō, GOSICK -ゴシック-
*
“Are you kidding me?”
Groaning, I drop my purse in the doorway where it falls with a thud, and my quick steps echo down the hallway. “Harry Edward, I swear to God,” I mutter under my breath, narrowing my eyes at his laughing figure at the other end, but the happy sound only grows further and further away.
“What would you ever do without me?” I ask nobody aloud, coming to a stop in a patch of sunlight dancing through the tall window. Rounding his desk, I find his brown messenger bag that I still smile at every time, and begin to pack his stuff up.
Pulling open a drawer, I find his Macbook charger that I may or may not be stealing for the tenth or twelfth time. After the last of the unwrapped cord comes out, something pink flutters to the marbled floor. Huffing, I shove the charger into his bag and bend down to pick it up, smoothing down the end of my skirt against my bottom. The thought of standing back up comes to my mind, but as a hint of his recent Sage and Citrus candle trickles through the air, I stop at the words I see.
“Huh,” I sigh, my lips curling into my cheek as the writing on the Post-It clears before my eyes. A certain somebody’s handwriting that I could recognize instantly, but my noggin takes a moment to rouse the reason for this very note.
I hope your case went well today, Harry, and I’m sure it did because you’re so good at what you do. I just wanted to let you know that I really like working with you, and I’m so glad that I found this job, and more importantly, you. You’re one of my best friends, Harry, so thank you a lot for that.
Your Becks xxx
The space between my eyebrows softens when the jigsaw pieces click inside my head, but then it’s followed by the smallest of tears in my chest when I notice that my name is smudged. The paper all over has smudge marks, and looks almost crinkled, as if somebody spilled something on it . . or shed tears onto it.
“Oh, Harry. I hate to think what you did do without me,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over the note I wrote so many years ago, and yet, he still clung onto it. Standing back up, I clear my itchy throat and tuck the note back into the drawer where it sat in the little divider surrounded by coins and pink erasers.
“Can I help you with sumthin’?” a voice teases from the doorway. I almost jump when I hear it, the sleek wooden drawer closing without a sound.
“Yeah, you can stop making us late.”
“What, we’re not gonna be late, Becks.”
“We will if you don’t stop it with your Minnesota goodbyes,” I quip, draping the cloth strap over my shoulder and stepping forward.
“Whatever tha hell that means,” he titters with knitted brows, that breathy laugh escaping his lips to grace the air. He closes the distance between us and I feel zings of electricity on my forehead where his lips touch. “Here, gimme. I was jus’ sayin’ me goodbyes t’ My’ t’ make sure we’re all set with bein’ gone t’morrow and Monday, and you as well.”
“If you say so,” I exhale, letting him take the bag from me. Somehow, it only makes him all the more attractive, clutching onto it across his chest, clad in a teal and black paisley suit with a button up the color of raven feathers beneath.
“C’mon, brat. Let’s get this show on tha road then,” he complains ever so annoyingly, making me roll my eyes.
“Hey! Watch it, you’re on thin ice, bud!” I exclaim, whipping around to find him giggling after pinching my ass.
“Oooo, ‘m so scared!”
+
“Harry, hurry up already! I don’t want to hit rush hour traffic! What more do you need to bring? It’s only a three-four day trip,” I call up the staircase, my hands slapping against my thighs in impatience.
“‘m comin’! Would ya chill yer tits, woman? My God,” Harry chuckles, appearing around the corner of the staircase a moment later. Shaking my head, I catch sight of the large box wrapped in floral paper. “Don’t smile now, Becks. Dontchu’ smile, babe.”
Stifling a giggle, I turn around fast and thread my fingers through the cloth handle, “Dammit, Harry, what do you have in this bag? It weighs a ton.”
“‘s yer birthday presents, bug.”
“It is?” I ask excitedly after an intake of air. His steps stop in front of me, but I ignore him and push aside the fabric of the large reusable cloth bag.
“They’re wrapped, silly. Hey, you were gonna cheat and take a peek, weren’t you?!” Harry exclaims. Looking up slowly, I press my lying lips into a line and shake my head. His own pair rise to pinch his cheeks and now, it’s his turn to shake his head. “Naughty, naughty, Becks. Hmm, maybe I should jus’ leave ‘em here and you can open ‘em when we get back on Monday. Fo’get ‘bout openin’ ‘em up t’morrow mornin’ on yer birthday.”
“Harry, no!” I almost shout, but his stern look dissolves into a giggle. A spark ignites on my cheek when his thumb brushes along it, hooking his fingers into my hair.
“Don’t worry, sweets. I can hardly wait t’ give ‘em t’ you, let alone anotha few days,” he winks, and I feel my shoulders relax when I breathe out. “Now, let’s go put this in tha boot, and get goin’. Yer dad’s expectin’ us soon,” he hums, bending forward to sponge a kiss under my eye. I can’t remember when he had started doing that, but I smile at the feeling of his warm lips on my birthmark.
“Hey, what’d I say earlier?!” I argue a moment later, almost jumping into the air after he pinched my bum.
“I don’t care. Yer gonna be tha one makin’ us late now, if ya don’t hurry that cute bum o’ yers along.”
Giggling, I open his glossy, black front door to step onto the front stoop. Humming a tune, Harry helps me to get the heavy bag into the boot of his Rover, fitting it and his large box amongst his suitcase and my own. Things are shoved to the side, including his windshield scraper, a jumper or two, and his bag of workout clothes with his highlighter yellow Nikes spilling out.
“Becks, I get t’ pick this time!”
“No, you don’t. I don’t even remember who picked last time, but I got to your phone first. That’s the rule,” I return with a mischievous grin pointed towards him. Huffing, he adjusts himself in the driver’s seat before pulling the seat belt across his chest.
“Pick sumthin’ good please, and would ya plug me phone in then?”
“Sure, and wait, what do you mean? I always pick good music!” I say, turning to look at him as he presses the button to start the car.
“I love ‘Dancing Queen’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody,’ babe, but please, can we have sumthin’ different t’day? ‘s a three hour drive, I don’t wanna be listenin’ t’ those songs or bloody ‘Hannah Montana’ tha whole way.”
“You’re no fun,” I groan, finding the words I had just said feeling heavy in my throat when I see his lock screen. A giggly picture of us from the other night fills it, the first time I’ve seen it. Smiling, I unlock it regrettably, and find his Music Library.
“Alright, Ms. GPS, where am I goin’ exactly? ‘s been awhile since ‘ve been up this way, y’know,” Harry says, adjusting the air conditioner until it flows softly.
“Thanks for driving,” I tell him first, squeezing his hand and watching his eyes scan over to me. They instantly fill with the smile that follows on his face.
“Welcome, babe. Take all tha time ya need with gettin’ back t’ it. But, y’know, ya should start lookin’ fer a new car.”
“I don’t wanna talk about this right now, Harry-,” I begin in an upset tone, scrolling through one of his playlists.
“Ya, but I do. I don’t see why you won’t lemme help you pay-.”
“Harry, I can afford it, I’ll be fine. The settlement money will be enough for a used one,” I disagree, settling on a Haim song just to have something to listen to already.
I just hope it’ll help me tune out this impending argument.
“Ya, a shitty used one, Becks. ‘m not gonna let you drive ‘round an unreliable car, I-.”
“Well, I don’t remember needing to have your permission before I did something,” I retort, setting his phone down above the radio on the little mat, noticing his fingers darting around on the touch screen.
“That’s not what I said, Becks, y’know that . . Ya don’t ever need me permission t’ do sumthin’, I can’t believe ya’d think that ‘bout me,” Harry sighs, stabbing at the screen one last time before backing away from his closed garage.
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall against the window, regret pooling inside of me darkly. I try to swallow, but the words I want to say sit there, unsaid.
“I don’t think that about you, Harry, I-.”
“Then why fookin’ say that, Becks?” he spits back, harshly switching gears before zooming along as the directions are spoken to him.
“Because I’m upset and people say things they don’t mean when they’re upset, and I’m tired of-.”
“Doesn’t fricken ‘scuse what ya said, actin’ like ‘m controllin’ when ‘m not like that. You know ‘m not,” Harry grumbles under his breath, stopping suddenly in front of a changing stoplight.
“I’m sorry.”
“Ya well, what have you said t’ me befo’, huh? ‘Sorry doesn’t always cut it,’ ‘cuz y’know, it doesn’t mean a whole lot when it gets overused all o’ tha time,” he continues, a bite in his voice. I soon taste blood in my mouth and release my tongue, unaware I was taking out my frustration on it, as well.
“I don’t want your help buying a car, Harry, why can’t you just accept that already?” I almost explode, wishing I wasn’t, but the words were shoved up and away before I could stop them.
His sigh is automatic and unavoidable, as is the click of his tongue, “‘Cuz we’ve argued ‘bout this how many times, and ya still won’t tell me why not.”
“Fine, because I don’t want to take your help- your money. I-It’s just how I was raised, I don’t know. It’d be so embarrassing, Harry . . ,” I trail off, my voice growing small and choked.
“Oh, Becks,” Harry says in an exhale, lacing his hand with mine and pressing a kiss to it. “Ya don’t hafta be embarrassed, love . . I know that you’d pay me back, and however long it takes ‘s fine.”
“Thanks, but . . I don’t know. I don’t like ‘talking money’ with you, no offense or anything. It’s just . . weird with you being my boss and signing my checks, like you say. You know how much I make, and I know you pay me a little more than an associate because you like me.”
“‘m sorry I give you shit ‘bout tha check thing, but y’know that other part’s a bit o’ an understatement,” he wheezes, squeezing my hand in his. Breathing in, I move my head to look at him and watch his eyes turn to me and soften. “It ‘s. I liked you afta a few weeks o’ knowin’ you at tha firm, then I really liked you, and then I loved you.”
“Harry,” I say with a sigh, looking away and finding our laced hands sitting on his thigh, right where he always places them.
“What, ya aren’t gonna reciprocate me love?” he giggles, and I remain quiet. “‘s okay, love, ya don’t always hafta.”
“I love you too, but-,” I start, but cut myself off, just in time. Or, so I think.
“But what?” he asks, his indicator making a ticking noise while he switches lanes. It takes me a few moments to notice the absence of the music. I think that he’s lowered the volume, but then, I gather that he’s turned it off altogether. “Becks, what’re you thinkin’ bout?”
“Bug? Yer scarin’ me, what’s tha matter?” he says, hurrying through his words. My lips are dry when I swipe my tongue over them, but the landscape outside my window is anything but that. It’s green in between the buildings and the hot sun shines high in the sky.
“I feel like a burden to everybody . . the last few months . . ,” I admit in a small voice, focused on the sensation of him twirling a ring around my finger. An old one I had found in a drawer the other day, from my uni days with Skye. “What are you doing?” I ask hurriedly when I notice he pulls off the road onto the shoulder, and parks.
“Becks,” Harry says firmly, pressing his thumb into my hand, but it doesn’t wake me up quite yet. “Rebecca Holte, listen to me. No, I need you t’ look at me too,” he continues, cupping the side of my face and pressing on it until I look into his eyes overwhelmed with something. “You are not a burden t’ anybody, let alone t’ me. I love you, Becks, mo’ than I thought I could ever love somebody. Hell, mo’ than ‘ve loved anyone. Yer never a burden t’ me, ‘ve told you this fer years, and I wish you’d believe it, love. I really don’t mind givin’ you lifts t’ work, and I know Skye doesn’t either. How else would I know that you secretly love Miley Cyrus’ music, or ya still jam t’ High School Musical or The Lion King? I love ridin’ t’ work and home with you ev’ry day, I honestly cherish gettin’ that extra time with you. Sure, ya drive me nuts sumtimes with yer odd music tastes, but I love you fer that. I love you for yer stubbornness, even with this bloody car issue, ‘cuz I dunno if we’d be t’getha if it weren’t fer yer stubbornness. I love you fer how good you are with yer money, tha effort you make fer those you love, like spendin’ tha weekend at yer Dad’s fer yer birthday with Robbie. I love you fer yer dedication t’ anythin’ and anybody that you love - throwing Asher a surprise birthday party tha other week, or organizing that baby shower fer Rose next week. Yer amazing, you blow me off me feet ev’ry day with sumthin’ new ya did. You could never be a burden t’ me, yer tha complete opposite, bug. You make tha world spin ‘round fer me, always done that, you have. Ya make me excited t’ get up in tha mornin’, t’ be a lawyer, hell . . t’ be a person, and mo’ importantly, yer boyfriend and best friend. I never wantcha t’ think yer a burden, ‘specially t’ me, ‘cuz that’s tha last thing you are t’ me. I love you mo’ than I could ever begin t’ tell you,” Harry divulges and not for the last time do I feel like The Grinch, because it feels as if my heart has grown another size, or two.
His warm laugh dances across my head when I fall into his arms and pull him against me for once.
“Dontchu’ cry on yer birthday weekend now, bug,” he jokes against my temple, his lips making a smacking noise against my flushed skin.
My favorite song in the world fills my ears as his words from before drunken my mind with their never ending meanings. I never thought I could love somebody this much, either. Sorry, Skye.
Sniffling, I brush my hand against my itchy nose and peer up. His greens brighter than the grass outside my window peer down at me, softer than can be.
“I love you too, Harry, so much. I don’t know what more I can say after that,” I croon with happiness plastered across my face. “But, thank you.”
“Ya don’t hafta say anymo’, that’s mo’ than enough fer me, sweets,” he assures me, pressing his lips to mine. “‘m sorry ya didn’t get mo’ settlement money, ya would have if it was me who fought yer case.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay?” I giggle and he nods with those dimples on full display for me. He nibbles at his bottom lip, leaving short white imprints amongst the rosy color. I sometimes still amaze myself at getting to run my fingers through his hair whenever I want to, like now. The clean, citrus smell of his new shampoo wafts over me as he smiles down at me, making me think all of my dreams have come true. Almost all of them.
“I know, bug, but it was disappointin’, tha settlement.”
“Your friend at Williams and Knox did great, Harry, and you couldn’t have argued it with your connection to me. Nobody at the firm could, seeing as how I work with them,” I explain to him, my thoughts brushing over the redundancy of it all.
“‘ll tell ya what, I have an ol’ mate who works with cars, and I bet he could knock off a few grand fer me-.”
“Harry!” I begin to protest, but it’s soon whisked away by the softness of his lips against mine. Our giggles tickle the others, and his hand is cold against my hip when he slides up my shirt. “I don’t want you to-,” I start again after he pulled away, but he dives back in for another kiss. Now, I don’t really care if we happen to be late.
“Ya gonna stop arguin’?” he wheezes after ending the kiss, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. My lips part and he raises his eyebrows in response, making me nod moments later. “Good. Now, as I was sayin’, he owes me a favor so ‘ll see what I can do ‘bout gettin’ you a new car. Actually, I think a lease would be best fer you.”
“But, Harry, new cars are too expensive and the insurance as well, and-.”
“Hush,” he whispers against my lips, soon letting me taste his coconut chapstick for the third time in the last minute. Then again, time has seemingly gone out the window these last few minutes, and I couldn’t care if I tried. “I really do think ‘d be best. Ya, insurance would be higher, but then ya have a new car, guaranteein’ no problems, and if there are, tha dealer place fixes ‘em free o’ charge. Inna few years, ya can buy it, or trade it in and sign another lease.”
“Okay, Mr. Convincing Lawyer, you do have a few good points,” I at last agree, watching his sixty-watt smile only grow brighter at my surrender.
“Yer music t’ me ears, y’know that?”
“Ditto,” I say, smiling up at him.
“Maybe if ya continue t’ be good and give a li’l less lip at work, ya jus’ might get a raise when it comes t’ yer six month review next week,” he jests with a lift of an eyebrow, a shit-eating grin plastering his lips. “Reckon that’d help with tha car, bug.”
“Is that so, Mr. Styles?”
“Mmmhmm, it ‘s indeed, Ms. Holte,” Harry answers, but I ignore him and choose to get lost in his lips, and the baby curls on the back of his neck.
+
A Paul McCartney song hums around us, the soft twang of acoustic guitar filling the holes as buildings pass on by. Yawning, I shuffle my feet in front of me and tip my head against the window. The song comes to a gentle end before a Bowie song follows, and I find my thigh warmed by his touch. I lose myself in the lyrics as his thumb leaves circles through my jeans first above my knee, then higher, and higher. Turning away from the window, I peek a look at him to find him biting at his nails while focused on the road.
“Stop biting your nails,” I whisper, my hand falling onto his and dragging it back towards my knee. It’s difficult, but I hold back the grin begging at my lips when I watch him blink with emphasis.
“Stop movin’ me hand. Y’know what, it took me tha last ten minutes t’ get that high,” he retorts without moving his eyes from the traffic in front of us.
“Why are you trying to get so high, huh, Mr. Styles?”
“Yer not helpin’ things by callin’ me that. Y’know how I feel ‘bout you callin’ me it,” Harry sighs, his thumb falling from his lips, and he turns on his indicator. After switching lanes, he reaches into the middle compartment and offers me a stick of gum before shoving a piece into his mouth.
“And how do you feel about me calling you that?”
“Stop,” he says, turning his head to look me straight in the eyes when a light has turned red. “Playin’ dumb, Becks.”
I avoid his eyes with a giggle and peer out at the landscape where buildings soon become far and in between, knowing how it gets to him and in a good way. His tsking tickles my ears and I shove his hand away, sure I’ve only made matters worse. The next few songs tick Queen off the list, as well as The Stones, and Simon and Garfunkel before a Beatles song follows.
“Penny Lane is in my ears, and in my eyes,” the radio sings back to us while Harry cruises at a steady 68 miles per hour. His distracted humming along eggs me on, and without a thought more, I slide my hand across the divider and onto his thigh. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, and when I glance over, he’s blowing bubbles between singing along. “And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen. He likes to keep his fire engine clean . . ,” he nods to the words, and smacks loudly on his gum. I take the chance and slowly lift my hand from the warmth of his leg, and find another spot a little higher up.
“Yer cheatin’,” is all he says while sitting back further and adjusting his hand on the wheel.
Huffing, I look away guiltily and try my darnedest to hide the smile blooming on my lips, “I am not.”
“Yes, you are. Only slidin’, no liftin’, Ms. Holte. Start over, then.”
“Fine,” I groan, replacing my hand to above his knee where I had begun in the first place. His chuckle irritates me, but when he picks up my hand to press a kiss to, I find it hard not to melt next to him.
Throughout the next few songs featuring Jagger, Backstreet Boys, and McFly, I don’t get very far. I hardly beat my record when he picks up my hand and places it back at the starting point.
“Harry!” I exclaim in annoyance, turning to face him. His dimpled cheeks round out with a pink smile. “No fair, I almost won!”
“Ya, and ya were gettin’ a li’l too close t’ me junk, y’know.”
“That’s the point of the game, silly!” I argue but it only collapses into a laugh that he reluctantly echoes. “We don’t actually . . touch each other, you know that.”
“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? You did jus’ tha other day!”
“Stop it!” I whine, crossing my arms over my chest and facing the window once more with hot cheeks. With my face smushed into a line, I find only a few bits of relief when my forehead meets the cool glass of the window, wishing I hadn’t heard those words. “Don’t,” I mutter when he pries at my stubborn arms that coax me back together.
“Babe, I was jus’ jokin’ with you. It was only an accident, ya don’t still hafta feel bad ‘bout that, Becks,” Harry insists, but the harmless giggle feels anything but that when it interrupts the new Busted song.
“I would if you’d stop bringing it up! You know that I’m never going to hear the end of it from Skye, and now, you too!”
“Bug, it was funny. We all agreed it was, ‘s nuthin’ t’ be ashamed of still, I promise you.”
“Oh, hush,” I say through gritted teeth, shaking off his hand only to hear his depressed sigh.
His voice grows low, and somehow, I let his hand remain when it graces the round of my knee, “I didn’t mind y’know, ‘s rather flatterin’ actually-.”
“Would you shut up about it, please? I touched your crotch the other day, I know because I was there, and it was in front of Skye. I almost died from embarrassment when it happened, and if you don’t stop bringing it up, I actually will die from embarrassment and it’ll be all of your fault.”
“Becks, chill out, babe,” he titters, the emphasis held in his hand that tries to rub the worries away, but I remain pouting. “Stop it with tha poutin’, love, ‘s not lost on me. It was an accident that ‘m sorry I keep givin’ ya grief fer. I like our li’l game, and I know ‘s harmless. Maybe one o’ these times ‘ll make it up t’ you and let ya win.”
“Stop talking already, you know I hate it when you let me win.”
“Young lady, ya better stop it with tha whining, cuz yer stuck with me for tha next three-four days, and ya best bet ‘m stealin’ all o’ tha covers,” he gripes, and I at last look at him with my body too.
“Harry Edward, you will not!”
“I will too, ‘specially if ya keep on poutin’ ‘bout that thing, ‘s not worth it,” he insists, pulling free one of my hands to lace with his one, and smatter the skin of with kisses. “I jus’ hope ya like what ya felt, but ya should know, ‘s mo’ impressive when ‘s hard.”
“Harry, would you stop it?!” I shout, yanking my hand away from him and shrinking against the window with a shiver. “You’re gross.”
“What, like ya haven’t thought ‘bout me dick befo’?” he wheezes with that breathy laugh I’m trying not to love right this moment. Sighing, I close my eyes and try to focus on the song, but it’s becoming too difficult as his words spring a leak in my mind.
This little ‘game’ of ours had started shy of a few weeks ago, and I can’t even remember why really. One of us had started laying our hands on the other’s thigh and as a joke one night, I think after some drinks, I got a little handsy and tried to see how far I could slide my hand without him noticing. It’s become a competition ever since and harmlessly, given the fact that a few steamy makeout sessions as of late hadn’t progressed to anything besides that. Running across some old photos the other night with Skye when backing up my phone made me realize again just how lucky I’ve gotten with him. The man I never thought I’d be able to love, and here I am, embarrassed because my boyfriend is talking about his dick that may or may not occupy my thoughts at times.
God, if I could tell Past Becky that sometime in the near future sh-we may get to see Harry naked, she wouldn’t believe me, or the fact I probably get to sleep beside him the next few nights with him wearing nothing but shorts. I can’t decide which outweighs the other, the excitement, or the fear of the f- that kind of future.
+
“No,” I whine, continuing to comb through the contents, despite the fact that I already know that it’s not there.
“Yer bedroom ‘s cute, y’know. Look at all these posters, I love ‘em. Bloody hell, ‘s that a Scooby Doo stuffie? Powerpuff Girls too?” he giggles from across the hallway, and I hear things being moved around. “Becks?”
“I know I packed it, what the heck?”
“What’s tha matter?” Harry coos, coming up from behind me and circling his arms around my waist.
“I forgot to pack a razor.”
Apparently, he finds that very funny, because within seconds he’s laughing, “Why ya frettin’ over a razor, bug? We’re only here three nights.”
“Because . . I didn’t want my legs to be prickly when we sleep together,” I reveal softly, and that sweet sound of his returns, soon muffled against my hair.
“I honestly don’t care if yer legs are hairy t’night, or t’morrow, or tha night afta that. I never have, love. But, if it really matters t’ ya, ya can borrow me razor. Lemme find it.” Facing him, I watch as he picks up his small, black toiletries bag and plucks a silver handled razor from it. “Here.”
“Uh, no thanks. Forget I asked,” I rush, occupying myself by grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste from the bag to set on the counter beside his gray one.
“What, why ya look scared, Becks? Ya never used a safety razor befo’ or summat?”
“No,” I reveal slowly, untwisting the cap of the white tube, and squeezing a dollop of the blue gel onto my toothbrush.
“‘s really not that bad, I promise you. I like it better, doesn’t gimme razor burn and goofy bumps, or ingrown hairs as much.”
“I’m fine, no thanks,” I mumble with the toothbrush in my mouth as I move it around, scrubbing my teeth.
“Becks, c’mon. Really, ‘s not that bad. Hey, why dontchu’ help me shave t’night, and that way you’ll learn how t’ use it. Reckon ‘s easier t’ use on yer legs, not havin’ all tha contours o’ yer face and jaw t’ nick.”
“Really?” I ask, placing a hand against the cool countertop, and facing him. “Wait, but I like your stubble and it was just coming back after you had shaved.”
“I leave the upper lip area and chin, but tha cheeks get patchy, so I shave those. I guess yer gonna hafta put up with tha stache again.”
“That’s okay, you know I like it. You’d really trust me to shave your face?” I respond, turning on the sink and filling a cup with water.
He nods, and with an eager smile, fishes out the large tube of shaving gel from his bag.
“What if I cut you?” I almost whine moments later, with the heavy handle in my hands.
“Babe, ya won’t, and if ya do, I won’t be mad. Rememba, like I showed you - forty-five degree angle, short strokes, and tha lightest pressure. Rinse every few strokes under tha tap. You’ll be fine,” Harry insists with the emphasis placed in his rising eyebrows. “Promise you that I trust you.”
“Okay, I’ll try it a few times, but that’s it. If I don’t like it, I don’t want to continue. I don’t want to hurt you, Harry.”
“Ya won’t, bug. This ‘s how ya learn, anyways. Now, c’mon, give it a go,” he coos, pulling me closer to him by his hands pressed to my hips.
Exhaling, I lift my hand and leave a gap of air in between the safety razor and his cheek covered in the white foam. Tilting it like he had said to do, I wait for him to open his mouth to pull the skin taut. I go with the grain and pull the razor along with short strokes, listening to his encouragements as his cheeks slowly reappears before my eyes.
“God, you look like a baby like this. I’ve always wondered what you looked like as a teenager, I want to see more pictures.”
“Noted, ‘ll hafta have me mum bring some over next time,” he replies and I nod, being careful when his face slopes with his cheekbones, but I save the jawline for him to do.
Goodness, Becky, you’re shaving your boyfriend’s face. Sometimes, I still catch myself when I call him that, Harry.
+
“Bloody hell, ‘s yer dad good at cribbage. I thought I had that last game 'til tha end there,” Harry chortles from across the hallway. Nodding to myself, I flick off the bathroom light, and stop in the doorway to find him snuggled under the covers of my childhood bed. Talk about a sight for sore eyes.
“I told you that I learned from the best,” I reply, closing my door softly and then getting the light. Dashing across the room, I almost jump onto my bed.
“Come warm me up, bug, ‘m freezin’ with that fan on,” Harry says, his teeth chattering, but I wonder if it’s only for the comical effect. “And then, God, what he said when we brought our suitcases in.”
“What’d he say again?” I ask, burying myself underneath the plain, gray comforter, and draping the rainbow colored quilt on top.
“How could ya forget, Becks?” he chuckles from beside me, the sound surrounding me when I place my head on his chest. His laughs continue and grow deeper over the next several seconds whilst I get comfortable under the blankets and his arms find their way around me. “Hey, Dad, where should Harry sleep? Have him sleep with you in yer old bed, I’m not getting any younger y’know, I want some grandkids soon, and Robbie isn’t looking too promisin’.”
“I can’t believe he said that either, I could have died from embarrassment right then and there,” I comment, my laugh joining his to echo around the room. His chest and belly shake and then squeeze beneath me as I nuzzle my head into the middle of his chest.
Little old me had nearly all of her dreams granted after I kissed this fellow, including getting to feel his toned body any time I want to, or lay my head between his solid pecs. Christ Almighty.
“Once again, ev’rybody, but us, thinks we’re havin’ sex,” Harry says, his laugh seemingly not going anywhere. My cheeks warm at his words and I wish that I could bury my head deeper into him, but I only feel the lukewarm metal of his cross necklace against my cheek.
“Hey, that’s not too bad of a deal. We didn’t have to do anything, and people think we are.”
“You have a silly mind, li’l one. I mean, I don’t care what people think, but I wish our parents would stop askin’ fer grandchildren, seein’ as we’ve only been t’getha four months,” Harry giggles, and I nod, remembering my dad missing vague and going straight to obvious when he said he was traditionally named after his father. His elbow into my side didn’t help his case, either.
Suddenly, a disturbing thought whisks my laugh away and I don’t find the joke very funny, anymore.
“Why aren’t you laughin’, hmm? Here, then - it was funny when he hinted he wants a grandson named afta him. Our parents really are obvious, aren’t they?” Harry chirps, and I nod silently, only now noticing the callused tips of his fingers dancing along my arm. “‘m sorry, I overplayed tha joke, didn’t I? ‘s not too funny afta a few goes, ‘s it?”
“No, you’re fine,” I say, but the thoughts kicking up dust in my head don’t feel very fine. No, they don’t make me feel ‘fine’ at all.
Why is it that she always has to ruin everything, ever since I was little? Even now, with her well out of my life, she’s still there despite the fact she’s not . . here.
“What ‘s it, Becks? Did I say sumthin’ wrong, love?”
“No, it’s not you, Harry. I don’t know, just overthinking things,” I reveal, letting my hand rest on the curve of his bicep, wishing I could see his tattoos in the dark to trace them. I know that that wouldn’t make them go away, though.
“Wanna talk ‘bout it, or jus’ go t’ bed?”
“I dunno,” I almost laugh, wishing this was ironic and that it was still funny. But, it’s not. “It’s hard to think about being a mum and mine not being there for it. I know that’s how I’d want it to be, though. It’s just . . hard, knowing how much other mums rely on that and enjoy getting to share the experience with theirs.”
“Oh, love, ‘m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” he pipes up, resting his head against mine, and I welcome the closeness.
“I know you didn’t, it was just my thoughts stirring up ‘what if’s.”
“Hey, ‘m sure when ya get t’ know me mum betta and Gemma, that me mum would be happy t’ step in fer that role, and me sister too. I already know with Gem that me mum would be all over my babies, and she’s a wonderful grandmother. I only wish she lived closer, but she’s always joked if I had kids, that that’s what would take her t’ move t’ London,” he says into my hair, and I nod into his smooth skin, my cheek tickled by his chest hair.
“Gemma must have been annoyed with that,” I titter and he agrees.
“‘ve thought ‘bout it too, y’know. Me dad‘s ‘round fer Harper and Ollie, but I dunno if ‘d ever want him ‘round my kids. He fooked up things with me, so why would I let him do tha same with me kids? I don’t want them wonderin’ why their granddad doesn’t come t’ their birthday party this time but did tha last, or t’ see us have a row . . It makes me sad, but y’know, ‘m glad we can relate t’ each other on this stuff, whatta load o’ rubbish it all ‘s.”
“Me too, Harry,” I breathe, tracing the shape of his necklace as his heartbeat thuds in my ear. “I can’t ever see things changing with my mum, but maybe it could with your dad someday . . It’s a good thing we’re not having kids anytime soon, huh?”
“Ya, reckon so, but ‘m already thirty, Becks. Time’s a tickin’ fer me in that father department,” he shares gently, and I wish I could see his eyes and lose myself in them, and maybe drag him along for the ride too. It’s all that I can think of to get rid of the sour remnants of this conversation, one that’s all of my fault.
“Oh, hush. My dad was thirty-four when he had Robbie and I, so you’ll be fine.”
“Ya, but I dunno, rather sure ‘d want kids soon afta gettin’ married,” he hums happily, a longing for the future in his voice. Boy, is it contagious. “Prolly within tha year.”
“Okay, would you chill it with the future talk? As you just said, it’s only been four months, Harry,” I laugh, nervously. A similar sound rumbles through his chest as he hugs me in his arms, smattering kisses along my head.
“Well, maybe four months will turn into forever one day, ya never know, bug,” he says with a lilt in his voice, teasing dripping from it. “C’mon, ya don’t know yet whether or not ya wanna be my Mrs. Styles one day?”
“I can tell what your answer to that question is,” my answer comes out in between apprehensive laughs, my cheeks surely scarlet against his skin.
“I never reveal me secrets, Becks,” he whispers, as if I don’t know it by now. “So, will ya marry me one day?”
“I’ll have to think about it . . ask again in a few months, weirdo.”
+
The streams of sunlight tease at my eyes while a sensation tickles my neck. Groaning, I shuffle my legs under the covers but they don’t get very far, knocking against another hairy pair.
“Wake up,” somebody coos softly into my ear, followed by a stream of gentle kisses down my face. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pull the covers higher, but they don’t budge. “Becks,” they say, dragging out the sound of my name as they rub circles into my stomach.
I lay there for a little while longer, dipping in and out of sleep, amongst the sound of my name and indiscernible humming. The next time I open them, the sun is beating through the window and the standing fan whirs along. A pair of arms is secure around my waist, and although used to it, I feel somebody’s prickly stubble against my cheek. I smile into the soft kisses pressed along my face and then a last one to my nose. “Wake up, Boops, ‘s yer birthday. ‘s my baby Becks’ birthday t’day,” Harry croons and I feel his cheeks rounding out from a smile against mine.
“Mmmmm, my twenty-seventh birthday,” I reply, stifling a yawn. They reply with an ‘mmmhmm’ before they hide their face in my neck. “And I get to spend it all with you,” I hum, my thoughts waking me quickly. It’s black and white from my birthday last year, pining away for him as he loved somebody else and ignoring his presents.
No matter how hard I could try, I wouldn’t be able to remember how long it’s been since I’ve had a birthday as good as this one already is, and undoubtedly will be.
“‘m so glad I get t’, bug, ‘s ‘bout time,” he yawns from behind me, stirring under the covers. I whine when his leg moves away from mine and takes its warmth with him. “I didn’t imagine ‘d be wakin’ you up in yer childhood bed, but here we are,” he giggles. “Tha first o’ many birthdays spent t’getha, babe.”
“Yeah,” I reply distractedly, propelled back to this day last year and how robbed I felt of a day that was supposed to be all about me and being happy. That was the last thing I was, it seemed, and it’s like a different life to think about that while Harry kisses the hollow below my ear. My boyfriend, who kicks off a blanket with a groan, a laugh rising from my lips as he complains about being hot.
“‘ve taken off all tha clothes I can and ‘m still bloody boilin.’ God, Becks, could ya be any mo’ o’ a heater, love?” he sighs and I only reply with a loud laugh that grows when his hands roam my body to tickle me. I find his sleepy face painted with a smile when I turn around to face his naked upper half, and it makes me wonder how he could ever be any more perfect than he already is. “What? ‘m sweatin’ over here,” he wheezes, carding a hand through his mess of curls while his eyes shine back at me.
“Nothing, I just . . “
“You jus’ what, love?” he murmurs, threading his fingers into my hair and stroking it away from my face.
“I just, really love you,” I confess, watching the contentment blossom on his face to almost embarrassment.
“I love you too, Rebecca Ann,” Harry beams with that contagious smile again, dipping forward to peck me. “More.”
“No, I do!” I protest, fingering his gold cross necklace that’s warm in my fingers. “I love you most! There!”
“Okay, okay,” he titters, batting a hand at me before pulling me into his chest. “‘ll let you have it, but only cuz ‘s yer birthday, my love,” he coos, surrounding me with his arms and covering my head in kisses.
I silently roll my eyes but I know he hears my huff, “Don’t be a pout on yer birthday, jus’ be happy ‘m lettin’ you get yer way with e’rythin’,” he remarks, muffled against my cheek where his warm breath wafts over me.
“Everything, you say?” I tease, and his intake of air eggs me on.
“Oh, what d’ya want now?”
“Hey, it’s my birthday. I get whatever I want on my birthday, isn’t that what I told you on yours?”
“I don’t rememba those exact words, but yes, my girl can have whatever her heart desires on her birthday,” Harry responds softly, his eyelashes leaving butterfly kisses against me. “What ‘s that li’l brain o’ yers cookin’ up now, huh?”
A laugh peeks out from my lips and he groans in response as I ready my proposal, sure he’s falling back asleep in my arms.
“A baby,” I divulge, and begin to count the seconds after the words have met the air. 1 . . 2 . . 3.
“‘Scuse me?” Harry exclaims, pulling away from me and looking at me with a wild pair of eyes. I find it so hard to hold it back when his green eyes widen further, accompanied by a sudden pallor to his face. “Rebecca Ann-,” he begins adamantly, but the moment the chuckle pours from my lips, he stops. “Woman, I swear- Jesus Christ, ya really are gonna gimme a heart attack one o’ these days.”
“The look on your face, Harry! I wish you could’ve seen it,” I giggle profusely, only fed by the crimson appearance of his cheeks as he shakes his head.
“You li’l smart ass, you,” he tuts, swiftly flipping onto his back and pulling me on top of him. “Y’know, ya kinda hafta be havin’ sex in order t’ have a baby, love, sumthin’ that doesn’t quite exist fer us yet,” Harry remarks with the cutest double chin from below me. I adjust myself lying on top of him so I’m not crushing his lungs, or well, his baby making junk.
“Not yet, anyways,” I murmur with a smirk, enjoying the squirming he does at my words. He giggles and covers his face with both of his arms, exposing as well as hiding some of his tattoos.
Propping my chin on my hand, my elbow finds a place on the mattress as my finger finds its way to his chest. I trace the numbers in my handwriting above his heart, so entirely grateful for this year and mostly all that it’s brought along with it.
“Maybe one day I’ll have a baby with you.”
I hear his wheezy laugh and the happy sigh, because they live inside of me too. His greens are stuck on me from between his peeking hands when I look over and my smile brightens.
“If we’re havin’ kids, ‘s gonna be mo’ than one, ‘ll tell ya that right now, missy.”
Somehow, my lips spread even wider, “How many then, Mr. Styles?” I pose aloud with a raise of my eyebrows at him.
“Five.”
“Harry!” I exclaim and he giggles from behind his hands that his eyes peek out from. At last, he drops them and peers across at me, making me believe in the cuteness that is triple chins. “Five children? Five mouths to feed, lunches to pack, activities to put them in, bedrooms, pairs of shoes, car seats, bums to change, new school clothes and well, new everything every year, and five babies for me to push out of my crotch?”
That really gets him going and soon, a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and from his lips, but I really couldn’t be complaining. It sparks one from mine too, and only makes me think of what it would be like to do this with him every morning. One day, with a swaddled baby lying to the side, or on his chest. What have I started now?
“Yes, five . . Five kids t’ cuddle, make memories with, take on adventures, introduce Harry Potter t’, bake and cook with, watch grow and do great things, have mosey into our bed at night, maybe teach guitar or piano t’ one or two, teach ‘em so many things, and I hope they all have yer eyes and yer laugh . . Can you imagine all that love, Becks?” Harry says, dreaming aloud with an effervescent look in his eye that I’ve only seen a few times before. “Hey, don’t you do that on yer birthday,” he tuts, but I’ve already started and go to sniffle into the crook of his neck. “Did I say sumthin’ wrong? ‘m sorry if ‘s too soon and-.”
“No, you said everything . . right,” I whisper against his neck, the absence of words letting me feel how it moves with every tick of his pulse. Gulping, I wait for him to answer, but I get it when he begins to hum our song amidst running races up and down my back with his hand.
“Maybe one day- Wait, no. Not ‘maybe,’ hopefully one day,” Harry coos as I stare into the darkness, but this time I’m not afraid or fleeing. I could never feel anything but safe in his arms, and I know our children would too. “Mmmm, ‘m lovin’ tha cuddlin’, but holy shit, am I warm!” he continues, our skin sticking together as he separates from me between our laughs.
+
After a few trips to the bathroom between us, Harry plops onto the bed and pulls me onto his lap. His lips sponge kisses along my cheek and his arms surround me, almost swallowing me with their span.
“Well, are ya jus’ gonna stare at ‘em or go and open ‘em, bug?” he coos, the hairs on the back of my neck lifting at his words tickling my neck. Turning my head, my excited eyes connect with his, and he nods. “Go already,” he says, kissing me before I leave his arms.
“Which one first?” I ask, crossing the bedroom to kneel in front of the line of gifts set before my dresser and our suitcases.
“Whichever yer li’l heart desires,” he answers. I grab one of the smaller ones and look over to him. “Savin’ tha biggest one fer last, I see.” He folds his hands together, his long arms already turning golden this early in the summer, and so are his legs that his arms drape across.
Giggling, I stand up and make a few trips to bring the presents to the bed.
“Openin’ ‘em up here, are we?” Harry asks with dumbfounded astonishment gracing his tired features.
“Mmmhmm,” is all I say as I settle onto his lap again, and relax when he wraps me up inside of his embrace. Tipping my head to rest on his shoulder, I stare down at the pink and purple flowers that branch across the crisp wrapping paper, and suddenly, it’s like for the second time.
I’m not going to let it happen again. No, not sitting on the floor with his presents before me, and him so far away, if only a few steps. His chest rises and falls with rhythmic breaths and I remain there, moving my ear until I hear the song his heart plays, needing this to feel all the more real. A tear collects at the corner of my eye, reminding me that at times like these, I expect to blink and it’ll all be gone. I wait for myself to wake up from the dream, and to have him ripped away from me, just like all of those other times he was.
But it doesn’t.
I blink and the tear falls, and his lips rest in my hair, waiting for me. His large hand leaves waves and blossoms against my back, and hopes and promises. I make them too, just as silently against him. I promise myself that I’ll never give up on him, and although he doesn’t know, I promise that to him too.
“Open it up, bug, what’re you waitin’ fer? ‘m dyin’ with anticipation here!”
Smiling, I lift my head and don’t waste any time finding his lips with my own, just because I can. He moans a sound against mine and holds onto me, and I know that he would never let me go, either.
No, not again.
“What was that fer?” he breathes half a minute later, staring deep into me.
“Just ‘cause,” I respond and he only smiles back at me, but then he tips his head to meet mine, resting his forehead on mine. He winks and brushes his nose against mine a few times in a different kind of kiss.
“I hope I get anotha one o’ those afta ya open yer presents.”
“We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Styles,” I grin and he amplifies it with a snort, bumping his shoulder against mine to remind me of the present I hold, and his affable impatience.
+
Wrapping paper still litters the floor, so do purple bows, and Amazon boxes. The shadows of our mingled laughs pepper the air as his hair falls through my fingers, and his slow breaths are whispers against my skin. I let my head fall and my hair dance across his skin before my lips do, ever so gently.
“Sweet dreams, love,” I barely whisper, careful to leave the bed without waking him. At the last second, I turn back and pull the comforter and quilt up his thighs covered in gray shorts, and past his bare shoulders. He’ll need it with his personal heater gone from his side, I think.
Tip toeing across the room, I take careful steps around the pile of presents still sat by our suitcases. The elation and disbelief comes over me in another wave when I see them one by one, starting with the lilac colored Kitchenaid mixer.
“Ya need it fer yer bakin’, love. I know tha kneadin’ part o’ recipes ‘s a bore, and yer handheld one was almost shot. We both know that. Maybe ‘m tellin’ you t’ bake fer me mo,’ I dunno,” he had laughed after my jaw had fallen to my chest, and his faced turned a proud crimson.
“We’re already halfway in, might as well make sure we have tha whole boxset fer when we wanna rewatch it,” Harry told me after I had opened the large box with the five Friends’ faces on it, assuring me that it was just as much a present for him as it was for me. He had kept making it known that that was the theme, so I would stop complaining about him spoiling me too much.
“I can’t take any credit fer that one, which ‘m quite sorry ‘bout, but mum wanted t’ knit ya sumthin’. Told her ya loved blankets, and here we are. Reckon I might have ya keep it at mine so I can steal it too,” runs through my head as I once again rub the chenille type yarn between my fingers at the end of the bed where the knit blanket lies. With a proud grin, I grab two corners and drape it over the sleeping man in my childhood, twin-sized bed, a dated McFly poster hanging over his head.
“This one’s jus’ as much fer me as it ‘s fer you, too,” he kept saying, then for Paul McCartney’s second show at the O2, and then for another pair of tickets to his daughter Stella’s fashion show in just a few weeks.
The same phrase, give or take a few words, flowed from his lips when the bag of candles graced my hands. He explained that we nick so many candles from each other’s offices that it was only natural that he bought me some, seeing as how he’d be stealing some here soon, especially the Tobacco Vanilla, Whiskey Cedar, Sage and Lemon, and the highly coveted Cinnamon Roll one.
The cribbage board was just a bonus, him claiming that he could finally bring his office one home and keep mine at work for us to play on.
What he couldn’t claim his rightful ownership to as well was the card full of unintelligible scribbles from Harper and Ollie, that thank the Gods, Gemma helped them write. The tears in my eyes since the first present grew and grew, and didn’t waver at the message of how Harper wanted to have a sleepover at Harry’s soon with me - nail painting, baking cookies, and all.
But, when I met his eyes with my sad, puppy dog pair, he melted right then and there.
“Harry, this is too much. I can’t accept all of this,” I had told him and he shook his head, lifting my own with his thumb to look in his eyes.
“Please, Becks. I-I hate t’ say it, but I have too much money than I know what t’ do with, and ‘ve been so excited to give you all of these. Don’t worry ‘bout tha money. Alright, my love?”
I gave in, and with the kisses he smothered me with, there was no way in hell I could say no to that face.
He stirs underneath the covers behind me, and so do my thoughts, but with a huff, Harry returns to snoring softly. I carefully open my suitcase and fish out my last clean outfit, and without a sound, walk across the hall and into the shower.
I thought I had made out like a bandit, but when I slip back into my room in search of Post-Its and a pen, I find that somebody else is awake.
“Where are you goin’, Becks?” they rasp, pulling themselves up to sit and the covers pool on his lap. Rubbing at his eyes, Harry cards a hand through his tousled curls, quickly yawning.
“Oh, just to run an errand quick. Go back to bed, I won’t be gone long.”
“Mmmm,” he groans, knuckling at his left eye. “Can’t it wait ‘til we leave this afternoon, bug? Y’know I can’t sleep without you, I get too cold, and miss havin’ you in me arms.”
“No, it can’t. I’m sorry . . You’ll fall right back asleep, Harry, I promise,” I shush him, stepping forward and pressing on his shoulder, but he doesn’t fall back in any of the ways that I’d hoped.
“I’ll come with, then. We can grab some pastries from that bakery you love fer brekky with yer dad.”
“It’s okay, I will if you want. Please, Harry, go back to sleep. You were up late, you must have a headache from all of those drinks with Robbie. I dunno why you pair had to have a shots competition,” I insist, and my distraction makes a raspy laugh fall from his mouth.
“I like yer brotha, y’know, he’s a funny git,” he drawls, rubbing his hands down his face once before pulling back the covers. “Can I come? ‘ll be mo’ awake after I have a shower.”
“I dunno,” I nervously laugh, tucking a wet lock of hair behind my ear. Huffing, I smooth down the floral skirt of my dress and sit on the edge of my bed. Thoughts whizz around in my head, flying to that destination and the next, but this one isn’t sure where to go.
“If ya really don’t want me t’, ‘s okay. ‘m sorry t’ pressure ya, babe.”
“It’s okay, Harry. I’d like you to come, but . . I dunno,” I reveal, toying with the ring and starting at the corner of my eye, I watch his hands still my pair that wring each other.
“Don’t hafta tell me if ya don’t wanna, I trust you y’know.”
Nodding, I wonder how I had ever gotten so damn lucky with this one. A split second giggle tickles at my lips, and then the toying turns into twirling, and then, telling.
“She would’ve been eighty-five today, I think,” the whisper fights to make itself known, and I can’t meet his eyes, but I think I hear it in his breathing when he connects the dots. The spinning of the ring, and the tracing of the flower, frozen in time. “I bring her flowers every year, just wildflowers I find on the side of the road. I’ve wanted to bring a cupcake and sing before blowing it out, but it seemed odd to eat it sitting there, when she can’t,” I continue, the frog jumping into my throat at the end there.
His words are absent, but they’re the least bit of that and so is my surprise when my head meets his shoulder, and his fingers trickle through my hair.
“You don’t have to come with, if you don’t want to,” I pipe up, grabbing hold of the smooth chain around his neck. The swallows beckon for me, and I trace their wings slowly, wondering how silky they’d feel if they were alive on his chest.
“I’d like t’ come with, if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, it’s more than okay,” I respond, my thumb and finger holding onto the cross when my arms go around his neck, and he lifts me onto his lap.
“I wish I coulda met her, yer Grandma Ann . . but bringin’ flowers t’ her grave sounds rather special too. Yer tha sweetest, Becks, y’know that?”
“So do I, she would’ve loved you,” I say, watching the tear glide down the slope of his back, and past the golden hairs lit by the sunrise behind the curtains.
“Does yer dad go with you?”
“Sometimes, maybe he will today.”
“‘d like that,” Harry coos, drawing the letters of my name, one by one, along my spine. I only know that because he’d told me last night when I couldn’t fall asleep, and he was happily buzzed.
I think that’s why I couldn’t, because how could my dreams beckon for me when my life was finally better than anything I could dream about?
+
“Ya mean it, tha best ever? In tha whole, entire history o’ birthdays, ever and ever?” they titter and its feeling against my cheek brings one forth onto my lips.
“You’re so silly, but yes. I had an amazing birthday, Harry. One to remember.”
“Good, bug. ‘m glad t’ hear. Only tha best fer me favourite girl,” he coos, dragging his nose along my cheek.
“Maybe next year for my birthday you can grow your hair out again for my birthday present.”
“Oh, really? That’s whatcha want? Hmm, I was thinkin’ o’ givin’ you a baby fer yer twenty-eighth,” he giggles, the rich smell of coffee hinting on his breath. Now, it’s my turn to giggle and I share it into his neck, our chests bumping when he pulls me closer. I steal a kiss from his swallow and nuzzle in deeper as he drapes the blanket his mum knitted for me over us, sinking further into his sofa.
“Stop it with the baby talk, marriage comes first, dumbo.”
“Fine then, ‘ll getchu a ring fer yer birthday,” he continues and I hide my reddening cheeks in the place between his shoulder and neck. Monica laughs at something on the TV behind us, but my focus darts to the melodic kisses he sponges along my neck, and his nose nudging at my shirt.
“Shush it, I’m not going anywhere,” I insist, revealing my scarlet cheeks to his smiling eyes.
“Better not, I dunno what ‘d do if ya did.”
“It’s a good thing neither of us have to worry about that, huh?” I return, tapping my finger on his nose. He nods and brushes his thumb under my eye where he often traces the imperfection that lives there.
“‘m lookin’ forward t’ mo’ weekends at yer Dad’s. It was loads o’ fun gettin’ t’ see where ya grew up, tha house ya grew up in, yer old schools, tha park at tha pond, and bloody hell, that night out back by tha bonfire,” he says, words falling into a sound of happiness. “I can’t remember tha last time I had so much Tequila. Fook, can that brotha o’ yers drink, and yer dad too. And that pizza yer dad made, ugh, ‘m gonna need anotha one o’ those soon. I miss playin’ board games so much like that, I see where ya get tha love o’ it from. I ‘specially loved playin’ on yer family piano with you, reckon we might make a good pair if we practice some mo’.”
Giggling, I agree with him as my fingers mingle with his necklace, “Yeah, it was a birthday to remember, that’s for sure.”
“Reckon so, and I couldn’t be gladder to hear that, bug. Remember last year’s wasn’t tha best, you’ve said. I hope they only get betta and betta, my love,” Harry croons, and I nod, sure that they will.
It all seems to be a hill that I get to climb by his side, but it’s the least bit tiring, and all the more exhilarating with every step that I take.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles wattpad#one direction fanfiction#narrymccartney writes#fanfiction#wattpad#young adult#fiction#adult fiction#romance#love#friends to lovers#the assistant#the assistant h.s.#pa harry#writing#fanfiction writing#keep#my writing#harry x becks#becks holte#hecky#the firsts h.s.#the firsts an assistant series#harry styles blog
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SAGE 2020: The Usual Suspects
Hi, folks! Back when I used to work at TSSZ a lot of people really enjoyed reading my articles where I’d talk about various games at the Sonic Amateur Games Expo (SAGE), and I’ve gotten more requests in the last month and a half to continue doing those types of articles than I think I’ve ever gotten about anything else I’ve ever done before. So, here we are!
But I also need to be real with you: there are a lot of games at SAGE. It was exhausting enough when there were 70, 80, or even 90 games. Heck, the one year I wrote about 85-something games by myself, I sort of felt like I was going to die. This year, there are over 220 games at SAGE. It is physically and emotionally impossible for me to talk about everything, and it may even be impossible for me to play everything. Things will fall through the cracks. Most things, probably. Though I am responsible for basically inventing SAGE 20 years ago, I am also a human. I have my limits, and I am sorry it has to be this way.
Structurally, we’re going to be doing things a little bit differently, and you should expect this to be a little fast and loose. Since I’m not talking about every single game on the show floor, articles are going to be broken up into types:
“Usual Suspects” will be for games that either appeared at previous SAGEs or that I’m at least aware of.
“Fan Games” should be obvious, and it’s whatever doesn’t fall under Usual Suspects.
“Indies” is the same deal, but for original games.
And finally, there will be a “Honorable Mentions” article for whatever random leftovers I don’t cover in the first three articles. Looking forward to me talking about your game, but I don’t mention it? Tell me about it and maybe it’ll end up here.
Without any more delay, let’s talk about those Usual Suspects...
Sonic GT
Sonic GT has always been kind of a difficult game to control, but usually it just took a little bit of getting used to. There was always a period of adjustment, where you had to learn the game’s quirks. But, over time, I feel like the game is also just getting… quirkier. Every time I come back to this, I slam head first into the Sonic GT’s learning curve, and it always feels just a little bit steeper. This is one of those games that tries to fit a lot of abilities into a tiny amount of buttons. It works, but it feels like you have to memorize an operator’s manual. It’s all about figuring out which button to hold when to get what state. But, man… when it clicks into place, it’s still kind of magic. And, at the very least, the levels have all been reworked to take better advantage of Sonic’s high-flying, death-defying acrobatics. You’ve just got to be willing to learn. The real downside of this new version is the inclusion of a proper story mode -- I don’t have anything against having cutscenes in your game or whatever, but for the purposes of reviewing these games, some ability to fast forward through the talking heads so I could get back to the gameplay would’ve been nice. You can skip ahead in cutscenes you’ve already watched, but that doesn’t help when it’s your first time through. Oh well. So it goes. (Update: in the process of getting this article posted, Sonic GT has been patched to make cutscenes always skippable.)
Project SXU (Sonic X-treme Unity)
Another year, another Sonic X-treme recreation. This one’s interesting because it seems to be the most “complete” yet, offering the four most famous levels: Jade Gully, Crystal Frost, Red Sands and Death Egg. Intentionally or unintentionally, this also seems to replicate quite a few quirks we’ve seen in Sonic X-treme’s controls in the videos that have been released of the in-development build. Which means that it, uh, kind of sucks to play. I realize that’s kind of rude, but I’m sort of allowed to say that. 15 years ago, I was basically the only person on the internet that cared what happened to Sonic X-treme, so... I started contacting developers, starting with the game's producer, Mike Wallis. He lead us to Chris Senn, and that broke the dam on information about this game. Now, I don’t claim ownership over everything that came out of this, I’m simply saying I was the one who got the ball rolling. I watched the mystery of Sonic X-treme slowly get uncovered with as much intent as one could possibly have. It is a fascinating piece of lost media, but as a game… well, I think it got canceled for a reason. SXU shows us a clear vision of that, with a game that’s disorienting to look at and hard to control. Heck, if you’re using a controller, you can’t even use the analog stick -- you have to use a d-pad, leading to controls that feel frustratingly twitchy. But that's true to the experience. I probably spent almost as long in this demo accidentally slipping into bottomless pits as I did exploring its levels. Again, this more or less feels accurate to what we’ve seen in videos, though I do think Sonic probably feels a little too sensitive, here. Regardless, it’s still absolutely fascinating.
“Sonic Infinity Engine” Games
I’m cheating a little bit, here. This is technically three entries, but it’s in “Usual Suspects” because there’s been Infinity Engine games at SAGE for a few years now. Listen, it’s my site, my rules, and we’re playing fast and loose, baby!
Adventure Pack 2
This claims to be a “pack” of multiple levels, but the one level I played went on for over 25 minutes without showing any signs of ending. The level is… well, it’s the kind of stuff we’ve seen at SAGE for years and years and years, a space previously occupied by SonicGDK and BlitzSonic before it, where somebody is clearly starting out learning 3D level design, has some prefab assets, and goes to town creating a huge, intricate environment… that doesn’t fit a Sonic game at all. Too many tight spaces, too much enemy spam, and too much labyrinthine pacing. This is “Sonic Visits Anor Londo,” and while it looks interesting visually, it’s easy to get lost, or worse, killed because something isn’t functioning right. Like a lot of Infinity Engine stuff, it’s a bit hit or miss.... And now, also cramped.
Infinity+ Colorful Combat
The primary goal of this seems to be to update the Infinity Engine with extra features, something that I think is pretty welcome. The Infinity Engine is okay, but it’s missing a little bit of polish that the original developer neglected to give it before abandoning the project. This helps tighten some of that stuff up, while also introducing Wisp powers and more playable characters. Some of the new characters could still use some work, yet, but given the project is still in active development, that’s pretty much a guarantee. This could end up being the defacto version of the Sonic Infinity Engine.
Sonic Reforge: Red Ridge (Blockout)
This is what’s called a “Grey Box.” Rather than build out a fully-detailed level, you get a rough estimate on how the stage will flow before you put all the graphics in. What’s here is okay, I guess, but the level loops back on itself in ways that can be kind of confusing. There are a few places where it’s not really clear where you’re supposed to go next, and I spent several minutes running in circles. I’m also not a huge fan of the changes to Infinity’s physics; jumping off of ramps is a key part of the Sonic experience, but there are several places here where that doesn’t work -- to get the height needed to progress, you just need to roll really fast. It works, but it doesn’t feel like the Sonic I’m familiar with.
Sonic World DX
I have a bit of history with this game. Or, well, with a different version of this game. I wasn’t kind to some of the original entries at SAGE many years ago, but over time, they’ve cleaned the game up and streamlined it a fair amount. Now we have the “DX” release, a further cleanup effort splintered off from the main project, but to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s different from the previous release. The main version of Sonic World supports an absolutely gargantuan amount of content, with 50 playable characters and at least that many levels. It was big, and weird, and impressive. This demo ships with three or four playable characters and eight stages. Beyond that, there’s not much else to say -- it’s still Sonic World, though this release doesn’t work right with my controller. It picks up the controller binds from the main version of Sonic World, correctly assuming I’m using a DualShock 4, but none of the buttons are correct. When it asks me to press the X button, I have to press Circle for it to properly register. Not only that, but the right stick camera control is completely broken. Switching to an Xbox controller fixes the camera issues, but now the face buttons have the opposite problem: when it asks me to press A to jump, I have to press X. Throws my whole vibe off, like wearing your shoes on the wrong feet. The menus are bizarre, too -- while adjusting the volume, you can’t push left or right to adjust the levels, you have to use controller face buttons for some reason. This whole thing feels like I stepped back in time to 2013 in a bad way.
Sonic Freedom
I feel like I’ve been waiting to see a major development from Sonic Freedom for half a decade at this point. The art considerations for this game are no joke, and I do not envy anyone trying to make a proper high-def 2D Sonic game that looks this good. But, well… it’s another year, and there’s not a lot here. It plays fine, I guess -- the controls are decent, at least. The problem is the level design. Does this level even end? I’m not sure. I know previous demos for Sonic Freedom have had more than one level, but the stage you start out in here is a confusing, empty labyrinth with respawning enemies and a finite number of rings. You climb up and up and up, but eventually I reached what felt like a dead end. Visually it will always look incredible, but I’m wondering if it’ll ever actually become a game at any point in the future.
BraSonic 20XX
Here’s a strange blast from the past I wasn’t expecting. BraSonic is an old fangame from probably more than a decade and a half ago. It was so long ago that I can’t even actually remember if I played the old version of the game or not, but I definitely remember the name. What really throws me for a loop playing the 20XX version now is how much it feels like a game from back in the early 2000’s. The artwork, the sound effects, the locations, all of it makes me feel like I’m 19 again. Thankfully, this doesn’t play like a fangame from 2004; physics seem pretty solid, level design flows pretty well, and it generally seems to be fun, weird, and most importantly, unique. There aren’t many fan games here at SAGE that open with their first boss fight being against Sonic the Hedgehog. If you find yourself getting burnt out from so many Sonic fan games feeling same-y, this could be a good change of pace.
Sonic Frenzy Adventure
Maybe it’s the fact that this is the 20th Anniversary of the Sonic Amateur Games Expo, but here’s another very old fangame coming back out of the woodwork for an enhanced modern re-release. This game was a mainstay of the mid-to-late 2000’s SAGE events, after which it disappeared before being finished. Well, maybe it was finished. Again, a lot of this stuff was so, so, so long ago that this poor old man’s memory just can’t recall it. Seeing Frenzy Adventure back warms my heart, though. It’s an old friend in what has proven to be a very challenging year. Admittedly, parts of it still feel a bit mid-2000’s, but I consider those charming quirks. Throwbacks to a simpler era. At the very least, controls have been improved, so it does play better than the old releases did. Good stuff. Glad to see you again, dude.
Sonic Speed Course
This was a game that turned up last year, but in the kerfuffle I didn’t get around to trying it, even though I really wanted to. This is clearly a game inspired by Kirby’s Dream Course, but instead of Nintendo’s pink puffball, we have Sonic and friends. Whereas Kirby gained abilities by bowling through enemies, this adapts a more traditional Sonic gameplay structure of item boxes filled with shields and other powerups. But here’s my deep dark secret: even though I love Kirby’s Dream Course in concept, there’s a part of me that feels an intense hatred for that game. I have distinct memories of renting Kirby’s Dream Course as a kid and getting really far into the game, but trying to play it as an adult I’m baffled at how difficult it is. The main problem I have is that every stroke you take subtracts from your health, meaning you can only hit the ball so many times before you just… die. This makes for a very, very steep learning curve that discourages play and experimentation. Every shot truly, deeply matters and eventually I find myself caught in a death spiral and staring at the game over screen. All of this is replicated in Sonic’s Speed Course, which, much like with Kirby, I find myself drawn to like a moth to the flame -- only to come away feeling dejected and like I’m just not good enough. For fans of Kirby’s Dream Course, this is undoubtedly good news, as this means Sonic Speed Course is faithful to the tone of that game. But I find myself wishing there was a practice mode or something that let me play these courses without the punitive health system, because I’m ready to love them.
Sonic: Triple Trouble 16-Bit
When you write about so many games at SAGE every year, things start to blur together... a lot. I seem to recall that Triple Trouble 16-Bit last year was good, but had room for improvement. Well, this year, this demo feels… really quite good. I’ll admit, I was a little skeptical about remaking this game. Sonic: Triple Trouble was among the first batch of Game Gear games I ever owned as a kid, and while I liked the game, in my adulthood, I feel like I’ve come to appreciate Sonic Chaos more. But so much has been added to this game that it’s really come into its own. It uses Triple Trouble more as a jumping off point to become something fresh and interesting, and on top of that, this demo is pretty polished. This game was kind of always on my radar, but it’s really turning into something special.
Battle Cross Fever
Every year, I download this game hoping for some kind of single player offering, and every year I’m let down. Battle Cross Fever is a fighting game that plays a lot like Smash Bros., but contains elements that pull it closer to traditional fighting games like Street Fighter. It’s the kind of game that can check with the server to make sure you’re playing the latest version, but doesn’t have true online multiplayer -- instead advertising that you should use a piece of screen sharing software like Parsec to accomplish online multiplayer. In their defense, the few times I’ve used Parsec, it’s basically been magic for how well it works. But I just want, like… anything that I can play by myself. Even if it’s just a super basic arcade mode with brain dead AI, anything is better than nothing. But, I suppose, I am an outlier. Judging by the horrific character select music I landed on, Battle Cross Fever has enough of a community that they could get fans to sing along to “Ghost Town” from Sonic Forces -- which is a fun idea, don’t get me wrong, but when you have loud voices over cheap microphones, well… I hope you aren’t wearing headphones like I was. Anyway, this game’s always seemed solid, but I’ve also never played it with another human being, so really, I’m speaking from the perspective of admiring the diverse roster and all of the fun arenas they’ve ported in. Maybe someday it’ll get some single player content.
I’ll be back with another article… uh, eventually. In truth, I was only going to feature five games here, but it ended up being ten, so we’ll see how many are in future articles when we get there!
#writing#SAGE#sonic amateur games expo#review slew#sonic gt#project sxu#sonic infinity engine#sonic world#sonic freedom#brasonic#sonic frenzy adventure#sonic speed course#sonic triple trouble#battle cross fever#review
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