#while i normally have the edge of not listening to much radio
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the battle has begun
#adw's ramblings#the race to see which of us siblings can go the longest without hearing wham's last chirstmas#while i normally have the edge of not listening to much radio#i do have to spend an undetermined amount of time at walmart this weekend#however my brother listens to the radio every night to fall asleep#so really who's to say
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can u pls write some katie mccabe x reader where reader has dyslexia?
I'll Have the Special - Katie McCabe
Y/N felt her body heating up as she heard everyone placing their order to the waiter. She tried to tune them out, re-reading the menu options again, then jumping back to the start when she would catch what someone else said.
“Oh umm, just the special,” she offered the teen a smile, handing him the menu when she was nudged for her turn to order.
The teen seemed overwhelmed with the large group and scribbled her order down without looking up.
Y/N sunk into her seat when he walked away, and conversation resumed. The anxiety of racing to read the menu and not hold up the group slowly seeping away. She took a couple sips of her drink to settle her nerves before joining the conversation again.
Her stress quickly spiked when her plate was set in front of her. Two large, battered fish filets sat on a pile of French fries. Being allergic to fish, there wasn’t anything she could eat off the plate. Having been so stressed about attempting to read the menu, she hadn’t actually listened to what the special was that night. Ordering the special had been a panic response when the menu kept getting jumbled in the noise of the restaurant.
“Oi! Switch with me!” Katie quickly reached across, trading plates before Y/N had a chance to say anything. Y/N sighed in relief when she saw food in front of her that she could eat.
Katie gave her subtle wink before stabbing her fork into the fish, helping cool it off quicker to eat.
“You didn’t have to switch meals with me,” Y/N mumbled while the team walked back to their hotel after supper.
“You didn’t seem happy with what you got, and I’m not a picky eater, no biggie,” Katie shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m allergic to fish,” Y/N muttered out, embarrassed that she ordered something she wouldn’t have been able to eat.
Katie paused her step for a second when she heard what Y/N said, “why’d you order the special then?”
Y/N flushed and refused to look up, continuing to walk a couple steps, Katie quick to take a few large strides to catch up, “I wasn’t listening when he said what it was, and I wasn’t ready to order, so I just panicked and said the special.”
“The team would have waited for you to decide,” Katie furrowed her brow, the team was always patient, some nights it took forever to place orders, much to the frustration of many staff having to make multiple trips to take orders.
Y/N hesitated her steps now, glancing around to see how far they were from some other groups of people having separated during the walk, “it wasn’t about being indecisive,” she huffed and dropped her chin to her chest, “I couldn’t read the menu. It was too loud to read in there.”
“Too loud to read? That’s the dumbest thing ever,” Steph push her way between the pair, not stopping as Katie told her off.
Looking back at Y/N, Katie could see her jaw set as her cheeks flushed pink, eyes focused on the ground as she shuffled to follow the group again. Katie caught the fabric of her coat, pulling her back to a stop. Glancing around, she realized they were at the back of their pack of players, “what do you mean it was ‘too loud to read’?”
“Nothing, it’s dumb, like Steph said,” Y/N shook her head and tried to pull away.
Katie tightened her grip, “it’s not dumb. Especially if it means you end up ordering something you’re allergicto.”
Y/N kicked her toe into the pavement, watching as a stone bounced off the edge of the sidewalk, “you know how you turn the radio down in the car when you’re looking for an address?”
Katie nodded along, “it’s like that, but I can’t turn down the world. Normally, if I take my time and really focus on just the menu, I can manage it. I’m just tired from the game, so the restaurant seemed extra loud, and people kept talking to me, I couldn’t do a good job to focus on reading.”
“You’re dyslexic!” Katie caught on quick to what Y/N was saying, quickly mumbling an apology when she realized how loudly she spoke.
Y/N nodded, “I’ve gotten pretty good at covering. I try and order last or look the menu up ahead of time, usually both. Most places have pretty good specials, so I just get that if I can’t.”
“You never actually get what you want, do you?” Katie frowned.
Y/N shrugged it off, “it’s usually fine. Tonight was kind of the exception I guess.”
They started walking again, keeping the pace slow, uninterested in catching the group.
“What about during film and meetings and such?”
“Jonas gives me a printout with his notes so I can follow along easier. And I try and sit in the back of the room, I can follow better if I can say what I’m reading. But listening I’m alright.”
“What else can I do to help?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Y/N shook her head, not wanting anyone’s pity.
Katie sighed, pushing the button for the elevator, she wanted to help, but she wasn’t going to push the girl when she seemed uncomfortable as it was, “alright, but if there is ever anything I can do. Or if Catley, or anyone, says something dumb or bugs you about this. You tell me.”
Katie fixed her with a hard stare, showing how serious she was being.
The next team meeting the defender watched as Y/N settled in the back of the room with a few extra papers. She kept glancing over to make sure Y/N wasn’t struggling to follow along, readying herself to jump in to help if needed. Each time, she would see Y/N’s lips moving as she quietly whispered the words Jonas had on his screen or watch Y/N’s finger slowly move along her page.
Over the next couple days, Katie watched Y/N. She didn’t know much about dyslexia, so she didn’t know if there was anything she could help Y/N with, but she wanted to make sure she would at least be aware and help avoid putting Y/N in any more situations like the restaurant. Katie knew there wasn’t much she could do to help, and Y/N seemed to be fine on her own, even noticing the small things she did that seemed to help. She would place one ear bud in during breaks to have her phone read messages to her, ducking off to the side to use voice to text to respond.
Katie felt a little bit of guilt settle in her gut when she thought of all the times the team had gone out for dinner or coffee and Y/N felt rushed to order something she didn’t want because she felt to embarred to admit her struggle. She had seen the panic on Y/N’s face while they went for coffee after training, and someone suggested a new place. Y/N had been participating happily with the group, but dropped back and grew quiet as she put her ear bud in, attempting to search the café’s menu while keeping up with the group.
Y/N kept to the back of the group as they entered, scanning over the large chalkboard, lips moving while mouthed the words slowly to herself. Katie quickly skimmed the menu, recognizing they had gone to an unnecessarily witty café, all the names of the drinks long, poorly executed puns, forcing you to read the description. Looking beside her, she could see Y/N quickly growing frustrated with herself. The bright, multi coloured chalk and overly designed boards creating chaos in her brain as she tried to decipher any of the drink names, none of the words coming together for her pretend to make an order.
One by one the girls each order and moved to the side, waiting for their names to be called. Leaving Katie and Y/N the last to order. Y/N’s jaw clenched when a couple entered the café behind them, putting more pressure on her to decipher the menu.
Katie could tell Y/N was about to give up and potentially decline ordering all together.
“We need another minute, you can go ahead of us,” the defender nudged Y/N over, motioning for the couple to order before them.
“I have no idea what I want,” Katie stayed close to Y/N, “maybe whole latte love?” she pointed to the first drink on the board, “or smashing pumpkin spice latte?”
Katie continued to read some of the obnoxious names, pointing to each one as she went, watching out of the corner of her eye as Y/N’s shoulders slowly dropped.
“Blah, who came up with these? AC/DECAF? The count macchiato?”
“Thank you, Katie,” Y/N whispered when she had finished reading the menu.
“Anytime,” she winked and moved to order, Y/N ordering quickly behind, tapping her card to pay for both.
Katie made a point of sitting next to Y/N at restaurants, sharing a menu, causally pointing things out, and reading them out loud. She did her best to be subtle and avoid drawing attention to them when she did it. She had learned what Y/N preferred to eat and only read those options out for her, patiently holding the menu up her to continue reading at her pace in case there was something else she wanted.
“Oh, this one sounds good, filet mignon with bearnaise sauce and seasonal vegetables,” Katie dragged her finger under the words as she read it out loud, Y/N softly whispering after the brunette finished speaking.
Katie continued reading the options to herself, then reading out another she thought Y/N might like, “herb crusted chicken breast with rice pilaff.”
Y/N would forever be grateful the way Katie patiently read menus to her, never making her feel dumb for struggling over the process. Her ability to offer help so casually and discreate amazed her. The defender was normally so brash and blunt, that she was caught off guard at how she just made it seem like she was thinking out loud the way she read things off to Y/N.
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If requests are still open, Ghiaccio and ideal date headcanons please?
Oh hello sugarplum! My first Ghiaccio request yay, i hope you like what i wrote. My general idea is that our blue haired kitty like really has no idea what he’s doing, but at least he tries hahaha
Request: Ghiaccio x reader ideal first date
Ok the first thing that the reader has to know is that “ ideal first date “ and “ Ghiaccio “ don’t work in the same sentence.
This short tempered mafioso has a very rough and kind of rude idea of what romance is, mostly because of his workplace and the fact that he was raised in the context of a loveless marriage.
But you liked him very much and after some time of “ dropping hints “ you decided to ask him out yourself, needless to say he was speechless.
“ UH?! THE F*CK DO YOU MEAN Y/N?! DON’T YOU DARE PLAY TRICKS ON ME, I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL FREEZE YOUR SORRY ASS TO DEATH!!” After a good half hour spent on the couch with him, explaining that: no it wasn’t a cruel prank and yes you wanted to go on a date with him, his brain started to reboot and of course…panick
You told him to surprise you, and you assured him it was gonna be great whatever he had in mind; but Ghiaccio sat on the edge of his bed thinking “ WHAT DO THEY LIKE?? Ok Ghiaccio think…Oh i could get tickets to take them see MotoGP!! Nah that ain’t first date sh*t…OH MAYBE SOME DR*GS! Ok no that’s a stupid idea….AAAAAAAH WHAT THE F*CK AM I GOING TO DO?! ”
The day of your date, you waited for him wearing your favourite outfit and happily humming the latest radio hit of the month when you saw him….and he looked terrible and adorable at the same time: eyebags that were darker than Risotto’s room, blue hair with some of his curls spiking out like cute springs and he was slightly trembling in his casual outfit he chose to wear for the day.
“ Hey…sh*t…i’m, i’m sorry ok? I really tried to think about what normal people do when they ask their s/o out, but i couldn’t find anything that worked!! AND I LOOK LIKE A LOSER WHILE YOU ACTUALLY PUT EFFORT TO DRESS CUTE AND SH*T TO GO OUT WITH ME OF ALL PEOPLE!! L-listen, forget it…just go have fun with your friends and leave me be. It’s for the best.. ”
You looked at him the entire time, trying to find even the slightest hint that he meant what he said to you in that moment…of course what you saw was actually a trembling young man, scared of let you down and still perplexed about why, of all the more charming and “nicer” member of La Squadra…you chose him
After taking his hands into yours, and reasurring him that whatever he wanted to do with you it was gonna be amazing (your heart melted when his glasses got a lil foggy because of him blushing at your words) you hopped into his beloved red Mazda and darted into the depth of Napoli’s countryside
During the ride his attitude relaxed a little bit andafter some time the two of you were bickering, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. At a certain point he parked the car by a small lake, helped you get down and using his White album froze the entire pond in front of you
You were so surprised you didn’t even notice him creating a pair of blades under your boots, only when he mumbled “ so..you skating or not? C’mon dumbass we don’t have all night” and as you took his hand, he slowly guided you into a very awkward but sweet ice skating lesson
After an hour you were under an old blanket he kept in the back of his car, drinking some cheap hot chocolate you heated up with the help of a small camping stove and stargazing away from the city lights
When you felt his hand caressing yours under the soft fabric, you turned your head towards him “ So…did you, did you have fun?” His cerulean eyes looked into yours, asking for an affermative answer to calm down his insecure heart. Only when you kindly pressed your lips on his he knew, he knew he did a good job in the end.
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No but what happens when there is an argument between Ari and the reader? You know, it’s a small space and lots of time together without any actual escape (honestly, who would want to escape Ari, but you know what I mean). Like, I can imagine that it gets heated in that small cabin. And I can also imagine lots and lots of sex - the angry fucking, the make-up sex and then the sweet (still filthy tho) love-making. 😏😏
Oh boy!
He wouldn't like that one bit. He has a lot of patience, especially when it comes to you, because he is truly a big cuddly bear, but trucker daddy also has his limits.
Highways & Heatstrokes drabble below!
Ari's eyes focus on the road as he drives down the highway, checking his sideview mirror more often than normal.
It's busy on the road, lots of cars weaving through traffic, and it makes him feel a bit unsettled. He normally plans his drives to avoid this kind of thing, but he was already delayed after yesterday so he didn't have much choice in the matter.
It puts him on edge, though. He doesn't want to risk anything going wrong, because for the first time ever, he has precious cargo.
Although, that precious cargo is currently sitting with her feet on his dash, mindlessly scrolling through the different radio stations, and the changing of loud sounds every few seconds is not exactly helping him keep cool.
"Just pick one, will ya?" Ari gruffs out, both hands firmly on the steering wheel, "Drivin' me crazy over here, sugar."
"But there's nothing good!" You complain, continuing to flip through the radio stations, "Why is it all commercials.."
"Sugar," Ari warns, glancing over at you, "Pick one or I'm gonna lose it. I gotta concentrate here, traffic is thick."
"Fine," you huff, settling on a station that's playing rock songs from the 70's and 80's, "There. Found you something from your youth. Did you use to listen to this while going out with your friends?"
Ari scoffs, "This is from the 70's."
"I said what I said," you chirp, your fingers starting to play with the flossed edges of your denim shorts.
Ari rolls his eyes, "Don't test me right now."
"Or what?" You quip, glancing over at him, "What are you gonna do? You're stuck driving. I'm safe."
"For now," he grumbles, rolling his shoulders back as his hands stay on the wheel, "Just wait until we pull in to stop for the night."
"Speaking of," you quickly interject, "Can that be soon? I want snacks."
Ari chuckles mockingly, "Oh, first you insinuate that I was young in the 70's, and now you want me to stop for snacks?"
"Yeah," you grin, turning your head to look at him, "I'm in the mood for something sweet."
"You really don't know how to play your cards right, do you?" Ari snorts, shaking his head, "What makes you think I'd be willing to pull over to get you snacks after you did me dirty like that?"
"Oh come on, you old grump," you giggle, eyes moving over how his jaw tenses at your words. You can tell he's on edge, and you could be nice and try to make it better, but it's just so much fun to tease him. "C'mon, let's make a stop. Get some jellybeans. It'll cheer you right up."
"Sugar," Ari sighs deeply, "You know we have to keep going!"
"Come on!" You whine loudly, huffing out an annoyed breath, "I'm bored and hungry."
"I'm warning you," Ari sneers, glancing over at you, "I'm at my wits end with you. Stop being a little brat and behave."
"Make me."
You did end up stopping to get snacks because Ari can't resist you. You know that and he does too.
What you hadn't anticipated, however, was just how much he was going to make you pay for your bratty antics.
"Is this what you wanted, hm?" Ari grunts, his large body looming over yours as he ruts into you furiously, "Just needed to be stuffed full of my cock so you'd behave?"
You whine, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you do your best to take everything he's giving you. He's ruthless, thrusting into you at a punishing pace as he has you bent in half on the mattress, your legs folded up to your chest and his heavy body holding them down.
"Answer me," Ari growls, his fingers gripping your chin harshly to force you to look up at him, "Don't ignore your daddy when he asks you a question."
Your eyes open wide, tears trailing down your cheeks as the fire blooming inside your belly burns hotter.
"You're just my little slut, aren't ya? Had to get all bratty so you'd get fucked into the mattress, god you're so spoiled. Now answer your daddy, sugar. Is this what you wanted?"
"Yes!" You cry out, nodding as your bottom lip protrudes into a small pout, tears staining your cheeks as you hiccup, "Yes, yes! Just wanted you daddy, wanted your cock! Fuck, you're so deep, ah!"
"I know baby," Ari groans, somehow moving even deeper inside you, thrusts turning harder, "But you're gonna take it. That's what you get for bein' a bratty little slut, take my cock and don't you dare run away from it. You hear me?"
Thanks for the ask hon!!
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my ptsd is baddd today fellas ✌️✨
i keep thinking of Driver rubbing my back while I’m stress vomiting. he wouldn’t be grossed out, he’s literally stomped someone’s head into watermelon mush seen some shit. it wouldn’t bother him. he sits with me the whole time and promises nothing is gonna hurt me. nobody’s gonna get past him. especially when I’m shaky and crying, he keeps repeating reassurances over and over. he’s not gonna hurt me. he won’t let anyone else hurt me either. he’s here to protect me and it’s ok. afterward he holds me and puts his jacket around me like a blanket and squeezes me super tight so I feel safe and secure. when I’m not nauseous anymore he takes us for a drive so we can look at the lights. I can’t stomach anything so we don’t get apple pie like we normally do, but we park by the edge of a cliff by the beachside to look at the waves. we move to the backseat and cuddle while listening to the radio. He doesn’t say a word this entire time until I ask him to tell me a bit about racecars because I need a distraction. he talks about the racecar he’s working on, how he and Shannon are designing it, what colors they might pick for Bernie Rose. Nino’s pizzeria will be advertised, as will Shannon’s Garage. he keeps talking until I can finally exhale without a shake. he pets my hair and makes sure I’m still holding up alright before we drive home again.
Ken’s got this. Ken’s got this. he’s ready. he’s done his research on ptsd attacks/symptoms and he’s prepared. he’s gotten sea sick before, so he knows vomiting is a gross feeling and how much it burns your throat. hes got a glass of water ready (real water… no, I didn’t ask him where he found real water in BarbieLand but whatever it’s fine.) hes got animal crackers for me to nibble on afterward. He’s got Barbie’s hair ties. we’re in a blue painted room and there’s not a lot of pink. I tell him that pink isn’t what’s triggering me right now but he still insists on staying away from it and he makes sure he wears different colors. he’s never seen real vomit before though so I tell him to leave me alone so he won’t have to look at it, but he doesn’t listen. he stays next to me and ties my hair back. he can’t really seem to stop talking because he’s nervous, hugging my shoulders. “sweet girl, it’s okay. it’s okay. hey, you wanna hear something really stupid? I bet it’ll make you laugh. okay, so—“ he tries to joke around. it kind of works. every time I lean over and retch he thinks “oh my god she’s dying oh my god” and his hands get shaky. “You’re so brave sweet girl. It’s okay. It’s okay.” if I start having a panic attack he hugs me tighter and calls Barbie for help. She rushes over and they both realize that it feels so much like the first day they found this scared star, her light going out, and they brought her back to BarbieLand and promised everything would be okay. They still keep this promise now, saying everything’s safe right now, nobody else is here but just us three and nothing scary will happen.
my relationship w/ Jesse is fairly new and I wouldn’t want him to see me in this state. I’d lock the bathroom door and he’d be really anxious, pacing the room and repeatedly asking for me to please just open the door. he’d eventually sit on the other side of the door and say “hey yo I’m not gonna think any less of you just cuz you’re hurling. cmon open the door. let me hold your hair back or something. I’m your boyfriend, and this is, like, my job. Let me do my job.” and when I still don’t let him in, he finds a bobby-pin and tries picking the lock. He sucks at it. “I got this. I got this babe. Here to save the day. Just give me a second.“ He doesn’t got this. Five whole minutes later I finally just unlock the door for him and he fists pumps “YEAH BITCH I GOT IT!!!!!!” He’s so proud of himself. He throws the bobby-pin on the floor. He looks at me and says “oh shit babe are you okay? you look like you got hit by a truck.” and he panics and says “shit no I mean… you’re still hot. majorly.” I just laugh at him and shake my head. and then he sits next to me and rubs my back. he tries to empathize a little by telling stories about all the laced drugs he used to do that would make him nauseous and paranoid all day. he rests his head on the very back of my shoulders and tries to say the most outlandish, stupidest shit that could come to his head to make me laugh. it works. later he draws me a picture of his OCs holding my hand and says they’d want me to feel better. we are dorks.
#rambling abt my f/os comforting me that’s it#I feel so shaky and I can’t stop crying 😭 what the hell I hate my brain#stop being scared of a dozen different things!!!#stop it. stop itttt I want to trade my brain for a different one. i hate this one.#vent#i am so fuckin. scared of my f/os when I get triggered. but thinking about them being comforting helps
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for the wip ask meme: "WIP sweet revenge" sounds like a more than good bet for being starsky & hutch fic, so i'd love to hear about that! 👀
helloooo tysm!!!! u r correct it is s&h!!
so i actually dont rly know where im going with this fic but it's set in the weeks and months following sweet revenge, based on an idea a friend of mine and i talked about many years ago of hutch getting sick while starsky is recovering. i'm sure it's been done to death haha but i'm a sucker for this shit.
“The world ain’t gonna end because you’re sick for a week, Hutchinson. Not if you’re sick for two weeks, a month.”
“You sure?” Hutch rasps. If he could sound flippant, he would, but he sounds deadly serious.
He also sounds awful, and Starsky tells him so, to his face, bluntly. “You look like crap, and you sound like crap. The world can take it.”
“I’m sorry,” says Hutch. “I didn’t mean to – ” When he tries to sit, Starsky pushes him back down. He’s grateful that Hutch doesn’t resist too much – if it came to a contest of strength, Hutch would still win, even as sick as he is. Starsky’s not up to wrestling, but Hutch has seen enough in the last few months to know the cardinal rule of this game: no engagement Starsky can't match.
There's a lil snippet! The fic focuses on Hutch's feelings of responsibility, and his fears of failure and inadequacy, and Starsky's feelings of frustration and exasperation - mostly good-natured (Hutch is silly).
bonus also from survival WIP which is my other s&h WIP from that list:
When he wakes, he’s not sure that he has. There’s blue sky and it’s fuzzy at the edges. His head throbs and he can feel his heart beating, fast and fevered, in every part of him. There are black spots dancing in his vision, and he blinks hard to try and clear them away, but instead they come into clearer focus. They’re buzzards, far off, high in the warm air-currents. Buzzards. Hutch lies still and tries not to feel fear. Struggling makes the claustrophobia and the heat and the pain and the dust and the thirst crush him downwards, like being buried alive. He breathes, in and out, over and over, and watches the buzzards. They’re a long way off, just specks in the sky, really. Just specks in the sky. He was going to think about death. He was going – Starsky is going to find a dead body. He can’t call anything much to mind. They didn’t know, you don’t know, nobody knows who he is or where he is or what he wants. Help me, I’m going to die here. I’m going to die. The buzzards are black spots, they’re specks in the sky. There were thousands of them. They were living in tents. Sonny is gone. The war is over.
idek what to say abt this, I wrote it I think winter 2021 and I keep trying to find the inspiration to finish it. it's rly just a thinly veiled excuse for me to write in my fave theme - characters who for whatever reason (in hutch's case dehydration and pain) experience a disruption or abstraction (permanent or temporary) in their normal thought patterns, which creates a perfect crucible to explore a scene on a deeper level through a character's distorted viewpoint. smth about looking at something sideways to see it more clearly - when a character is somehow in an altered state it can be easier to tease out interesting threads from them
but anyway i loveeeee the radio thing that hutch is listening to as he's driving at the beginning it rly stuck w me and i wanted to find a way to have it stick in hutch's mind too even if he's not paying attention to it consciously
pick a WIP from this list and send me an ask and I'll post a snippet or share smth about the fic!!
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henry tomasino headcanons
another compilation.
the reason he constantly wears that tie is bc it’s his lucky tie. he’s really really attached to it, maybe more than he’s willing to admit, and very sensitive about people messing with it.
the youngest of the tomasino boys (seventh son, and all that).
can’t cook. at all. like, genuinely dangerous to have in a kitchen, would throw water on a gas fire. there seems to be fairly widespread agreement about this one lol bc i hear other people bring it up. he very much enjoys a good meal though, and he damn near refuses to work on an empty stomach.
gets chinese takeout fairly often. still can’t use chopsticks.
knows how to blow smoke rings. he does this whenever he’s out with vito and joe trying to impress them. he also definitely smokes something weird.
an fan of fine wines, but he never really drank beer growing up so his introduction to it was mostly shitty prohibition beer. after two years he just kind of got used to the taste and he’ll still drink, like...the absolute cheapest shit beer and enjoy it.
sleeps with socks. i just know he does.
rock ‘n’ roll and blues enjoyer but everybody assumes he listens to like, big band or opera or something, and he lets them because that suits the image he’s cultivated–but sneak up on him alone in his car or wherever he’s sleeping at the moment, and you might just catch him wildly singing along to delta radio. that said, he also has a soft spot for the music he heard growing up in sicily, and for certain american swing/jazz songs he recalls hearing in his first few years in the states.
also a genuinely good dancer, and he and betty were fairly well known at the oyster bay hall back in the day (he’s since avoided the place, though). sometimes when he's alone he'll put a record or the radio on and just dance alone in his hotel room or something, though he'd be mortified if anyone walked in. has a nice stereo setup too.
kind of a lousy pool player. he wishes he were good, and he figures he should be given his aim is great with a rifle, but the skill doesn’t seem to transfer. hell of a card player though, aside from poker specifically, and a good cheater too but generally avoids it as a point of pride.
something of a car guy; he knows all the specifics and particularly cutting edge features catch his interest immediately (i say this bc the frankie potts files say one of clemente's rackets was stealing and stripping luxury cars). he's also a frighteningly good auto thief.
he knows everybody but no one really knows him. he's on a first name basis with just about every bartender, hustler, hooker, and petty crook in town, and anybody else who might be a useful connection, but his name is just about all they know about him. well liked by service workers because he's polite and a good tipper, and he’s really only a smartass in front of certain people, typically people he's familiar/comfortable with.
was not at all well liked by clemente's other guys when he joined the family, since they felt he was getting special treatment and hadn't worked his way up properly (his father getting him the job and all), not to mention a lot of these guys grew up poor and he didn’t. they view him as a spoiled brat and he didn’t help matters by coming off as very aloof.
was absolutely a “how could you do this to me on my BIRTHDAY” kid back home (his whining in chapter 5? please). didn’t tell anybody his birthday when he arrived in empire bay, though, and really only clemente and luca knew. he also told the guys he was twenty instead of nineteen (though he was only a few months away) because he thought it sounded more mature.
doesn't handle pain well. normally he tries to cover it up with jokes but the first time he got shot was when he was 17, and he sobbed his eyes out in the backseat while his father drove him to the doctor. he’s still mortified by it years later, especially given he feels he let the old man down.
real cagey about letting anyone see him dressed down. even taking off his suit jacket in front of other people is usually a sign of trust, and if he lets you see him in just a shirt? that’s bestie behavior.
painfully touch starved, hence why he's constantly lingering awkwardly in vito's personal space without touching him. the first time joe ever hugs him, henry just about short circuits.
#headcanons#mafia 2#henry tomasino#i'll round out the trio soon but anyway henry's was longer. very telling lol
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Intermission
It’s just a normal mission. Just a routine grab and bag. In and out. You got this.
Those were the thoughts running through Agent Mikael’s mind as he tried to hype himself up as his troop approached the complex. The Solution had tasked him and his team with a pretty important mission: The engagement and containment of the subject known as Radio Static. He didn’t know much about the target, that was the captain’s role. But what he did know was that the subject was capable of anomalously broadcasting himself to any television screen channel at will. This made him a big threat to maintaining the veil of secrecy. Other than that? Sarge said she’d brief everyone at the rendezvous point, so Mikael didn’t bother to worry himself about the details.
“Alright, everyone, pay attention. We only got one chance at nabbing the subject, and if we fail, he’s known to flee across countries when spooked. We’re in deep water if he gets outta here.” Sarge barked out authority any time she spoke, even Agent Sanders paid attention, and you couldn’t get him to focus if you hit him with the butt of your gun. The four members of the squad huddled together to listen to their captain, waiting with bated breath to hear the details of the assignment.
“The subject’s designation is ‘Radio Static’. He’s a humanoid entity with the head of a television, very standard. He’s known for broadcasting various sorts of violent or otherwise anomalous programs onto channels that he had no prior access to, which is the ability of his that makes him a threat to the Veil. He’s known for his flamboyant attitude and ruthless cruelty, so stay on your toes. We managed to get a tip that he’d be holed up in the warehouse up ahead for his broadcast tonight, which is where we’ll be intercepting him. You’ve all been briefed on the plan of attack and your individual entry points. Sanders, you’re on the lookout, so pay attention.”
“Can do, boss!” Sanders gave a lazy half salute.
“This is serious, Sanders. You can’t take your eyes off the target this time. We don’t want a repeat of the Basilisk mission. I had to stick my neck out for you, and I don’t plan on doing it again. Don’t fuck it up, Sanders.”
“Alright, alright, I heard you the first time, Sarge!” Sanders argued back to the captain before taking out his rifle. He had the best handle on the scope out of the squad, best for long range combat.
“Lawrence, Adams, you two are on pincers. Hit him from the sides, push him to me and Riker if you can.”
The two on pincer duty nodded in agreement. Lawrence and Adams got along quite well, what with Lawrence always being the quiet sort, following orders to the T, and with Adams being mute. Made for a good silent duo.
“Mikael, you’re going in through the back while Riker and I take the brunt of the target’s assault. Surprise him from the back, incapacitate if possible.”
Mikael wasn’t as ready as his teammates were, but like hell was he going to argue with Sarge. He was the rookie in the team, having only been on a few missions with the squadron. Being put in charge of such an important role had him on edge.
“I… I won’t let you down, Sarge. You can count on me.”
“I know you won’t, Mikael. You’re a good man.”
Mikael beamed at the compliment. He was proud to make his captain place his trust in him, even if it was a terrifying position.
“Like I said, Riker, you’re with me. We’ll enter through the front door, breach the set. From there, we’ll meet the target head on to take the brunt of the assault. Lawrence and Adams will come in from the sides, pushing the target into the ambush zone where Mikael will surprise him, leaving him open to the five of us. Sanders, if the target tries to flee, or call for backup, you know what to do.”
With the plan set, the team got into position. After Sarge and Riker begin their assault, all radio contact will be disconnected and stopped, as they believe that Radio Static will begin to use it to his advantage. The idea of radio silence did scare Mikael a lot, but he had faith in his team.
And then, explosions.
Mikael supposed that was the signal that they had begun the assault. Mikael burst through the back door, brandishing his weapon as he charged into the complex. However, it was… Strangely dark. The room was just a black, empty void. And then, without another sound-
The door slammed behind Mikael as he reached the center of whatever room he was in. He spun, aiming his weapon, expecting to see the target, but he was met with nothing but darkness. In just another moment, however, the darkness was broken by a bright spotlight blasting down onto him from above.
“WELCOME, MY ESTEEMED GUEST! I HOPE YOU’RE READY TO MEET-”
A booming voice erupted through the area, coming from all directions. Mikael aimed and spun around, seeking to find the source of the voice. When he was met with nothing, the spotlight shifted away from him, moving to a grandiose talk show set, adorned with lights, posters, and propaganda, all showing…
“ME!”
The lights in the room flashed on in a brilliant display of magnificence, displaying Radio Static to his new guest star. Radio Static had adorned his classic talk show attire, a well pressed black suit, long navy blue and black striped pants, and a colorful spotted tie. He gripped his microphone in his hand as he looked down at the new coming star, not to outshine him, of course!
The soldier raised his weapon, aiming straight at Radio Static. “Hah! Got a lot of spunk already, eh, kid? I like it! But, I believe your excitement is a little misused! Let’s get rid of that clunky little toy, shall we?”
Small orb shaped drones descended from the rafters above, swarming the now frightened army man. He began worriedly firing at the drones, but there were simply too many. They descended down on the man, removing his weapons and stripping him of some of his armor.
“There you go, darling! Now you look television ready! I hope you’re ready to-”
Mikael knew something was wrong, it just felt off, and not the part where he was being assaulted by the target with the rest of his squad nowhere in sight.
“Stand down, asshole! My squad will-”
“OH! OH! You did NOT just fucking cut off my opening monologue!”
Radio Static was really not happy to have his spotlight stolen in the middle of a performance. The drones swooped in again, delivering shocks to the interrupting ignoramus. He dropped to his knees as the drones began to restrain him. Radio Static cleared his throat again as he walked off the stage.
“Now, darling, first rule of television, you don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking, okay? Or else I will FUCKING kill you. Got it? Good. Oh, and when we go live for tonight’s episode, watch your language, there’s going to be kids watching!”
“What… The hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, that reminds me, your squadron, don’t worry about them, they’ll be on the show too. I already got them ready for the performance. Ready? Great! We go live in five, four, three two… Showtime!”
Some of the drones had their small cameras light up, meaning that the show was on air. Radio Static brought the newly dressed soldier close, tossing him down onto a chair as he took his own place behind a mahogany desk.
“Hello, my adoring fans! Welcome to another spectacular episode of Television Saved the Radio Static! I’m your darling host, Radio Static, and tonight, we have a special guest! Tell the wonderful viewers at home what your name is, gorgeous!”
“I… Let me go!”
“Give it up for Letmego! Exotic name, is it not?”
Simulated applause erupted from a fake studio audience as the soldier glanced around, clearly looking for his teammates. The room rapidly began to change sets as Radio Static prepped his next scene. “We got a special show lined up for you tonight, everyone! We have a QUADRUPLE feature! Our game show tonight stars our lovely guest, Letmego, and his friends as well! Tonight, we ask the question!”
The fake audience began to spout out the catchphrase along with Radio Static.
“WILL THEY DIE?”
The set had changed to a quiz show, with a large sizzling vat in the center of the room. Dangled above it was another soldier that Radio Static had intercepted from outside. He seemed to have fallen asleep when the drones caught him.
“Welcome to the generic quiz show segment! Answer correctly and you get a prize! Answer falsely, and your little friend will be lowered towards the pool of acid! Sounds fun, right?”
“What?! No!”
“Great! Then let’s get started! Question one! What’s the capital of Brazil?”
“What? How the hell am I supposed to know that?”
“Bzzt! Wrong!” The soldier, evidently named Sanders, was lowered deeper to the vat. He was yelling something, but he didn’t have a mic on, so none of what he said was audible to the folks at home. “Question two! Who’s the best game show host?”
Again, there it was again! Something was off, Mikael could FEEL it. “No, NO! I know what this is leading to! You’re going to do these fucked up games with each of my teammates, killing them gruesomely each time in front of me for your sick pleasure! Well, I won’t have it! You aren’t getting your free content!”
Radio Static’s screen changed to that of pure static as the cameras shut off. He approached the soldier who had decided to, no, DARED to ruin the show. “Cut to commercial.”
Radio Static got closer and closer to the soldier, who suddenly lashed out, hurling a punch at the television host. Radio Static caught the fist in the air, however, quickly snapping the hand backwards, causing the soldier to scream in pain. Radio Static delivered a blow of his own, decking the soldier in the face and knocking him to the floor. He wasted no time, stomping on the soldier’s head several times before grabbing him by the hair and smashing his face into the vat’s glass over and over, cracking both the vat and the soldier’s face.
“YOU. DON’T. FUCKING. STEAL. MY. SPOTLIGHT.”
Each blow was harder than the last. The vat was creaking now, with Radio Static stepping back, onto two drones that lifted him into the air. He dusted his shirt off as he tried to wipe the soldier’s blood from his suit. As he did, the glass shattered, showering the party crasher in the acid meant for his associate. “Fucking piece of shit. Deserved nothing less.”
Radio Static switched to the next set, bringing the other soldier with him as he tossed the new guest with the rest. “Ruined my show for the night. Now I’ll have to play a goddamned rerun! But don’t worry, folks, I’m gonna come back better. New episode. With drama! Romance with yours truly! And of course, bloodshed! Speaking of the latter, I need to send a message to the Solution so they don’t try to crash my next broadcast, m’kay?”
The soldiers argued, of course they did. They had no sense of style, of drama, of showmanship! But whatever. He was going to dispose of them each in their own special way, taking pictures of it to send to the Solution. Sanders got placed in a big room that was filled with water, drowning him. Took Radio Static ages to dry off the furniture! Adams was burned alive, which was funny since he couldn’t scream. Lawrence was placed in the Sound Room, which blasted so much noise it popped his head like a grape. That one was messy. And for the captain, well, she was tied to a massive firework that was then launched into the air! It exploded brilliantly into a wonderful display of Radio Static’s own wonderful visage. He was quite happy with that one.
He couldn’t dwell on them for too long, though. After all, he had to get back to filming! Only twenty four hours until the next airing! The show must go on.
The little assault they tried to wage against him was cute, but, ultimately, it was just a little intermission.
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Notre Dame AU Chapter 5: “An Evening in The Castle”
Hey, here’s a quick head’s up before we start: Expect two more chapters tonight and Thursday morning.. Unless Ruin news hits me in the head at break-neck speed. Then there’ll be a bit of radio silence until further notice.
..Even if I do end up posting on time, there’ll still be radio silence because Ruin teaser.
Anyway, let’s see how Gregory’s doing before I start making less sense...
A couple of hours passed. The bells rang with a more melancholic air as Gregory sat there in a distant section of the hall. A few visitors came and went, but none were allowed to interact with the boy in the corner. An expected result of his plea for safety.
So there Gregory stayed. Alone. Contemplating the boy dubbed “46”.
...For a couple more minutes, at least. With only one clear audio recording and not much speculation to glean from, the topic was getting dull by now. “If only I could talk to someone,” he thought as his eyes lazily drifted up to the tinted windows. “Then maybe I wouldn’t be so bored.”
He rose to his feet and observed his surroundings. While these windows were not as grand as the church’s, their towering height and naturally sunny glow left an impression on him. Same went for the golden-flamed candles strewn about the walls. Both of these things provided a sense of warmth in this otherwise bleak and cold chamber. “At least there’s something here to keep me busy, I guess,” he thought as he walked towards an empty booth littered with themed attraction brochures and era-fitting props. “I’ve been to every other place in this mall, but I guess a little reading wouldn’t hurt.”
As he skimmed through the list of locales, one of them seemed to weasel its way out of its holder. His eyebrows raised as he watched it break free and float on its own. He backed up slowly, then stopped. “H-Hello?” he asked the unseen pamphlet carrier, weakly waving. “You, uh, want to read something too?”
The brochure froze in mid-air. It slowly lowered itself back onto the table. Then, after a few seconds of tense stillness, a small door beside the counter quickly opened up. “Hey, wait!” Gregory called out, following after with both papers in hand. “You don’t have to ditch your stuff! Come back!”
Agonia raced up the spiral stairs. “Should not have done that,” repeated over and over in his head until he reached the bell tower. He gripped one of the pillars in a panic, swinging out of a normal person’s view. “What do I do now?” he asked himself in his mind, burying his head in his hands. “It was not supposed to go like this!”
“So do most of your plans, but that’s a given,” quipped a mature voice.
Agonia lowered his hands. “Henry, please,” he snipped towards a man that seemed to be around his age. “I need help. Do I talk to him or run?”
“Well, judging from how fast that kid is, I’d say get ready to start talking,” Henry noted, pushing up his thick-rimmed glasses as he looked over his listener’s shoulder. “Hope you how to use contractions in a sentence.”
Agonia shot back an exasperated look. “But how?” he asked, subconsciously clutching his marred throat. “My voice is–“
“You’ll do fine,” Henry insisted, walking towards the edge of the railing. “Just do that miming thing you’ve been doing with Glitchtrap. Or that funny little letter system you had once.”
Agonia slumped. “I suppose I could,” he murmured as he approached the door. “However: if this goes south, this is on you.”
“Have fun,” Henry smiled jestingly, giving one parting wave. “I’ll be out here enjoying the view if you need me.”
Agonia shook his head as he entered back inside the castle. He listened as he traveled along the maze. “Where is he?” he wondered as he surveyed the empty landscape.
A loud “Boo!” from behind answered that question very quickly.
Gregory laughed as the bell-ringer “yelped” and whirled around. “I got you good, didn’t I?” he grinned slyly.
The other rolled his uneven eyes and bobbed his head to one side. Yes, yes, he did.
The scarer’s smile weakened. “So, um, here’s your thing back,” he said sheepishly, handing out the brochure. “Sorry if I made you think I was going to rat you out to that dumb rabbit guy.”
Agonia placed his hand on top of Gregory’s, then patted it gently. “Does.. that mean it’s all good?” Gregory asked slowly, repeating the gesture with his own hand.
The elder’s face lit up. He nodded rapidly with a wide smile.
“Huh!” Gregory exclaimed while he removed his hands from the bell ringer’s frail grasp. “I did not expect to be this good at ‘Guess What The Ghost’s Trying to Say’! ...N-No offense, of course. I get that your voice must be pretty messed up with.. what you’ve got.”
Agonia nodded despondently, putting a hand to his throat yet again.
“But hey!” Gregory spoke up, walking over to the sad ghost’s side. “You can ‘talk’ with these while you show me around!” He then held up his sliver of paper with a proud smile. “They should have all the words you need,” he continued as he gave both pamphlets to the ghost. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Agonia stared down at the papers in his hand. He eyed both titles, then flipped through one of the two. After a few moments of skimming, he motioned for Gregory to start walking.
Gregory quickly started, strolling alongside his newfound tour guide. His head turned this way and that, only stopping when something caught his eyes– Like a random knight in armor or a huge hole-like imprint in the floor. “This must be part of the Princess’ Challenge,” he mused as he looked back at his guide. “I don’t think I’ve ever been up here before, so this is a first for me.”
Agonia lowered his paper for the boy to see. “Really?” he ‘asked’, pointing to the exact word wedged in a lengthy paragraph.
“Yeah,” Gregory admitted casually, shrugging his shoulders. “Didn’t really think it was all that neat. I don’t mind escape rooms, but the description in the ads did not do this place justice. Made it sound like it was for really little kids.”
Agonia nodded with a mutually irked expression. Suddenly, he stopped in front of a tile puzzle guarded by four LED torches. “Wait here a moment,” he ‘instructed’, his finger darting to the words. Once he knew he got his point across, he hobbled over to the tiles. It took a bit of effort, but he managed to move the squares into their correct places. The door thunked as he returned to the dumbfounded boy. “To be fair, these are easy when you know the trick,” the guide ‘explained’, gesturing to the solved puzzle as they passed by.
Gregory glanced at the solved puzzle. He bobbed his head as his eyes skimmed the pattern. Then, realizing that his acquaintance had gone into the next room, he hurried after.
Agonia grinned as the boy rejoined his side. “Did you figure it out?” he ‘asked’ with a wink.
“Maybe,” Gregory confessed with a hint of embarrassment. “Something about some of triangles lining up with the edges of that square.”
“Pretty close,” ‘replied’ the bell-ringer. “But I can’t spoil it for you. It would ruin all the fun.”
Gregory gave a look of acknowledgment, then continued his tour. His observing of this room was very quick, save his curiosity about the two golden doors with the carved arch above. However, unlike the puzzle, neither said anything about them.
Instead, both entered the next room with little trouble. “This is where I was earlier,” Gregory explained, motioning to the ‘bridge’ on the floor. “Somebody already solved this one, so I didn’t have to do anything.”
Agonia faintly hummed in thought, slowly moving ahead of the boy and walking onto the bridge. He stomped his foot on it, then hummed again. “I’m surprised that it hasn’t reset by now,” he ‘mused’, staring at the torches nearby. “They usually do that after someone completes the challenge.”
“Maybe they’ll be reset tonight,” Gregory shrugged as he left the bridge and headed for the door.
“Maybe,” ‘repeated’ Agonia, joining the boy’s side. “In the meantime, this is it. The last section.”
“Aw, already?” Gregory pouted, crossing his arms as his guide propped open the door. “We were just starting to know each other!”
“We can still talk outside,” the bell-ringer grinned as they entered into the porch. “Besides, you need all the fresh air you can get.”
“‘Says’ the guy who doesn’t need fresh air,” Gregory retorted, half-smiling. Both went quiet as they neared the balcony’s railing. The boy took in the sights with an amazed, but wistful expression. The ghost, meanwhile, looked at the world down below with a thoughtful gaze. This silence continued for several minutes, as if both had unintentionally forgotten that the other was still there. Not really surprising since the dawning sunset made everything below look more inviting and pleasant– Empty though the streets currently were.
Gregory glanced over at the clock tower. “Looks like it’s about time for you to ring in the hour again,” he said, breaking the silence at last. “At least you won’t get in trouble for being late, huh?”
Agonia chuckled hoarsely. “Yes, no worries there,” he ‘answered’, nodding to the boy as he limped to the adjacent railing. Without another word, he jumped onto the railing and cautiously clambered back into the bell tower itself.
Gregory watched in wonder as the bell-ringer prepared for his duty. The lantern flickered as Agonia put aside the papers and lifted the rope into his hands. He watched the clock, then the boy. “Plug your ears,” he said aloud, though it was so frail and broken that you’d be forgiven for saying otherwise.
Though the voice took him off-guard, Gregory wasted no time in following that order. He blocked his ears with his hands. His body fought the urge to crouch as Agonia pulled the rope. Thundering clangs followed suit. Their sheer force almost knocked the poor boy off his feet. Seven chimes in total, but they sounded like twelve or more thanks to the kickback of the bell’s clapper. They sounded beautiful, sure, but now Gregory was starting to learn why many people preferred admiring the bells from the ground level.
As soon as the bells finished, Agonia let go of the rope and stumbled into a bow. “I’d clap, but I think those bells knocked all the energy out of me,” Gregory laughed weakly, prying off his hands from his head. “That’s gotta do something to your hearing, right?”
Realizing that they were back to having a proper conversation, Agonia hurriedly scooped up the papers. “Not if you’re a ghost,” he ‘responded’ with a slick grin. “The only thing this bell usually does to me is make me tired.”
”Huh,” Gregory responded simply, gripping onto the railing for support. Before he could form any more questions, he felt himself getting hauled up by the shoulders. He yelped in shock, but the sight of Agonia’s calm face eased him a bit. His body floated as he slowly lowered onto this new floor. “Guess I got you too, didn’t I?” the ringer ‘asked’ slyly, winking for a second time.
“Yeah, you did,” Gregory sniggered as he laid himself down on the stone floor. “Good job repaying the favor, I guess.”
The words “repaying the favor” caused Agonia to look deep in thought for a moment, but he shrugged any ideas off. “I really just did that because you looked so disoriented,” he ‘clarified’, now sitting down next to the boy. “Didn’t want you to faint next to such an unstable section of the railing. You could’ve fallen.”
“Well, thanks for looking out for me..” Gregory murmured sleepily, trying to stop himself yawning. “I had no idea.”
Agonia simply patted the boy on the hand. “How about I teach you some Latin while you try to doze off?” he ‘suggested’ before opening the other brochure.
“That’d be great, but not right now,” Gregory yawned. “I think I’ll stick with.. I dunno.. Maybe a lullaby?”
“But my voice isn’t the greatest. I thought my little warning would’ve taught you that.”
“I said ‘maybe’,” Gregory snickered softly. “Lullabies don’t.. need.. that much.. to..”
Agonia watched as the boy finally drifted off to sleep. He contemplated afterwards, peering up at the pillars and roof just above him. Then, as he looked back at the peacefully-resting child, he sighed deeply. Feeling the need to honor this request, he sung as softly as he could. A simple lullaby, but a lullaby nonetheless.
Gregory heard traces of the raspy-yet-timid crooning, but all went dark before the song finished. He found himself in a dreamless void. Unable to feel the stone floor. Or hear the hum of that ever-invisible air conditioner. An eerily comfortable solitude that flew by.
Slow, metallic footsteps broke through that void.
“Freddy?” he asked groggily, beginning to stir back into reality.
“No,” the same ragged voice answered as a hand lightly touched the boy’s shoulder. “Not Freddy.”
Gregory opened his eyes. The world had now gone from a warm golden light to a cool bluish nighttime. He had also been moved from practically underneath the bell to a doorway right outside the open chamber. The bell-ringer sat beside him, his features showcasing a mix of joy and tiredness. “Look,” the man said slowly, pointing to a corner of the door.
Mildly confused, Gregory got up and looked around that corner. To his surprise, a mishmash of metal and gunk loomed mere inches above him. “What.. is that thing?” he asked uneasily.
“Your way out,” Agonia grinned, patting the robot on the back.
“My way out?” Gregory repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, going back outside this place would be great. But isn’t that.. I dunno.. breaking Sanctuary?”
“I will take the blame for that,” ‘assured’ the ghost, finally remembering to use the pamphlets. “You need to eat, and there’s no food up here– Among other things.”
“I guess that sounds like a good reason,” Gregory shrugged. He cautiously approached the strange contraption. “So, uh, what do I do with it?” he asked, craning his neck to get a better look at its face.
“Climb onto its back.”
Using the railing like a step ladder, the boy clambered onto the machine’s shoulders. “Okay, now what?” he questioned again.
Agonia placed his hand on the thing’s head. He shut his eyes. Purple sparks flashed from its rabbit-like ears as he vanished into thin air. “Hold on tight,” it answered mechanically, looking back to the boy with its violet pupils.
Gregory wrapped his arms around its neck for dear life. The robot climbed up the nearest pillar like an acrobat ascending a large ladder. It steadied itself once it was on the roof. Its head swiveled this way and that as it crawled near the edge of the roof. Then, once its analysis proved satisfactory, it swung itself down onto a ridged side of the building. It looked back at the still-clutching Gregory, nodded to itself, then proceeded to climb down.
“I don’t mean to break your concentration or anything,” Gregory piped up quietly, “but I gotta ask: Have you done this before?”
The machine stopped, carefully shook its head, then kept descending– even as Gregory quietly griped “well, that’s comforting” directly into its ears. It continued its descent until the ground was merely a few yards away. “Going to jump,” it explained calmly. “Stay close.”
Without any other warning, the robot leapt off the building’s facade like a squirrel. It twisted its body mid-air, ensuring that it cushioned the impact of its land from the alarmed boy. Its body thumped onto the astroturf with a metallic rattle. “You are free now,” it said warmly, getting up onto its feet gingerly. “Go.”
Gregory got off the rabbit-like being’s back. “Thanks,” he replied, shaking it’s hand. “Maybe after I get everything cleared up, we can meet up back here. Hopefully with less chaos for you to deal with.”
Agonia sniggered, his voice filtering through the robot’s box. “Maybe,” he answered as he began his ascent back up the wall. “We shall see.” He paused to give one last parting wave, then kept climbing.
As Gregory hurried off into a nearby alley, the bell-ringer-turned-bunny reached the clock tower. He leapt off the railing and landed on the stone floor. His body quickly sprinted to the other side of the chamber. He leaned over the edge. Relief entered his soul. It was only thirty minutes to nine.
As small lights dotted the streets below, Agonia ensured everything was returned to normal. The bare-bones robot was put back in its place. He cheerfully returned to his duty of watching and waiting for the hour to strike. The lantern itself had its ever-glowing flame restored. Though this meant that the day filled with both misfortune and merriment was almost over, these things also meant that nothing else was going to interrupt his routine– And, more importantly, Gregory’s bizarre mission.
Of course, as he completed his task, this was a bit too much to ask with three hours left. Somehow, someway, he fumbled into a living person. A person with armor plating, no less. “So, apart from bumping into me, how are you doing?” she asked with a chuckle, brushing back a loose strand of blonde hair. “I’m looking for this boy named Gregory. I think you saw him at the festival earlier?”
Agonia double-checked the lantern. It was currently flickering, which deprived him of one concern. The other concern, however, had to be dealt with a bit more.. forcefully. At least more than the other knights that dealt with him while Gregory was being chased. He couldn’t afford to make that same mistake here.
Carefully moving around the intruder, he walked back inside the maze room. He listened as Vanessa nervously followed, but his plan was already in motion. His footsteps stopped in front of the guarding suit of armor on display. With some effort, he pried the sword off the dolled-up mannequin. He held the blade defensively as he faced the knight. “Sanctuary,” he mouthed, tilting his head towards the spiral staircase. “Out.”
Vanessa raised her hands in front of her chest. “I know this is a dumb thing to say, but you really do need to relax,” she answered, backing towards the entryway. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just here because of Freddy. That’s it.”
Agonia lowered his sword. His eyebrows raised. Freddy? What did that have to do with..?
He raised his sword again. He shook his head.
Vanessa drew out her own weapon in response, but still watched her step as they descended. “It’s not a bluff,” she insisted as calmly as she could. “You can see the reports for yourself later. Freddy’s worried about Gregory just as much as you are.”
Agonia swung his sword, but Vanessa countered. Both stood on their respective steps, anticipating another try. However, Vanessa had something else in mind. “If you don’t believe me, then how about this?” she prefaced as she slid her blade back into its sheath. “The only reason why Gregory called for Sanctuary in the first place was because I made him. It was the only way I could save his life.”
Agonia’s eyes widened. He glanced over at the twitching hand, then back at her weary expression. He nodded slowly, then retreated up a step. “Still an out,” he reasoned solemnly, letting his arm drop a little. “Sorry.”
Vanessa bobbed her head as she turned away. “Just tell him that Freddy says he might stop by later,” she relayed, her eyes focusing on the rest of the staircase. “Something about upper management making him do one final check before the mall shuts down for the night.”
Agonia gave a sign of affirmation as he started back up the staircase. However, Vanessa’s final words made him stop right before reaching the top step: “Hey, while you’re at it, tell him he’s pretty lucky. I know I’d be if I had someone like you around defending me like that.”
He dropped his sword and whirled around, but Vanessa was gone. Dumbfounded by the compliment, he picked up the sword and put it back in its slot. He shook his head as he processed the words. There was no chance that he was actually defending someone like some genuine knight of old... Was there?
Feeling even more worn out than before, he hobbled back into the bell tower. He leaned against the railing and thought back on his day. In a span of several hours, he became: a king of jesters, an object of pain and ridicule, a subject of interrogation several times, a tour guide, and now a supposed protector of the innocent. His body slumped as he gazed at the night sky. Perhaps, in a few hours more, all he would be was a bell-ringer again. While gaining new titles had been fun and all, the amount he gathered from this day alone was a bit too ridiculous– Even for him.
#william afton#agonia#gregory fnaf#notre dame au#vanessa fnaf#fnaf fanfic#long post#long chapter#fnaf au
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what calms your muse down after a bad day?
something that gives your muse hope.
skills and special talents.
For Wren?
Thank you for the ask!
- I would say that Wren is more than inclined to shoot back a glass or two of whiskey, depending on how the day went. But more than likely, it’s whiskey when it comes to dealing with the war in Hope County. Wren would use wine to Treat Herself, which is fine, she’s more likely to drink it with dinner or during a horror movie or a few episodes of The Twilight Zone. But Wren has to be careful because she has had issues with abusing it before, though she does fall off the wagon during the whole thing. I think after the alcohol takes a little of the edge off, she’ll listen to music. It’s either going to be in her cabin, while sitting in the dark or with just ambient lighting. Or she’s on the hood of her Jeep, stargazing as the radio plays…which she can only truly do without fear in Holland Valley. For some reason, can’t imagine why, Holland Valley tends to take it a bit easier on her.
- Love. Even saying it makes me cringe, but it’s honestly true. Wren is very much a hopeless individual, she’s very pessimistic and will claim to be realistic (though both are true). Even when fighting for the Resistance, she doesn’t really dwell on the aspects of hope, she just focuses on what needs done and how to go about it. But her need for love and validation, that does give her some sort of form of hope whether she wants to admit it or not. It makes her hope for things that she doesn’t normally dare to wish for, and it comes in different forms. Whether that’s Rowan and Randy, and her believing she has people that are actually there for her and support her unlike people have faked in the past, or it’s with John (or I suppose any other love interest she has with other fandoms) where she hopes to truly be loved for who she is and what comes with her, rather than the pieces they want to take. It fuels her and what makes her switch sides in the end.
- She’s very good at playing the piano, dancing, and has a decent singing voice. Her mom did most of those things with her before she passed away. Wren also has a talent in regards to being a social chameleon. After years of trying to navigate her hard time with her dad as a child and trying to adjust to life without him when she goes to college, she’s taught herself how to blend in and mirror people. Wren can be misleading. She’s also, as she finds out, pretty good at throwing knives. There’s a funny story to that, but she stumbles across it accidentally with Hurk Jr and Sharky, and all three of them just thought she was really good at darts. But Wren has a pretty steady hand when it comes to throwing weapons at people’s throats and faces.
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EMBRYO
Chapter 5: Burger Fool
"No," the diner guy said.
"No?" Rose echoed.
"You heard me. No."
"No job, you mean? No...what? Why?"
"Yeah, no job." He ticked off on his meaty fingers. "...Yeah, no job, and 'cause we aren't hiring kids, Miss..." He glanced down at her application. "Uh...Winners?"
"Winters," Rose said. "Why the hell not?"
"You're sixteen. I ain't doing that whole teenage-drama song and dance again. Not after last time. Come back in two years or whatever." He looked her over doubtfully. "If you want to work here that bad, I guess."
Rose glanced around the diner, which was, non-encouragingly, called Vinnie's Meat Hut. A few exhausted-looking patrons slouched at booths and window tables, sadly munching plates of anemic fries and burgers that looked as if they might cause cardiac arrest on contact.
"Come on," she said under her breath. "I'm...young and hip. I could really...bring a fresh perspective into...you know, the day to day..."
"Fresh perspective," the manager said.
"Yeah. I could wash dishes, too, if you don't want me waitressing. Or I could...um...take out the trash."
"Take out the trash," the manager said.
"Please," Rose said.
"No."
"Please?"
"Kid, you need money that bad, go ask your mommy."
Rose blinked, then put on a sad face with big eyes. "I don't have a mommy," she whispered. "Or a daddy. They died when I was three."
"Cancer?"
"Brain."
"Both of 'em?"
"It was contagious."
"Get the fuck outta here."
Rose let out a huff, turned, and stomped out. She couldn't resist throwing up a middle finger before she went through the door.
The manager returned the gesture half-heartedly.
Rose stood on the diner's stoop, staring out at the rainy morning. Today was Friday, thank God. She needed the weekend badly. She hadn't gotten any homework done that week on account of the stuff with Sam and, of course, the monster.
The monster.
Heisenberg had said nothing about the previous night- not that Rose had given him a chance. She'd left before he even emerged from his room, stuffing handfuls of granola bars into her pockets so she didn't even have to stick around for breakfast. She'd barely slept- her second night in a row without much sleep- and now her eyes were itchy, her brain half-congealed concrete. Still, her ankle felt almost healed. One good thing about her power: she healed really, really fast. She'd never got worse than a broken bone, but even that had been better in a week. That had been tough to explain to the elementary school; Rose suspected Heisenberg had employed threats and intimidation to keep those concerned from looking into it too deeply.
Morning traffic rushed past, horns squabbling, pedestrians pushing by, on their way to work or school. The night before, this street had been ominous, dark and abandoned, but now in the gray daylight looked back to normal. Halloween decorations hung in shop windows, and a news-stand owner across the way was sat by his stand on a folding chair, portable radio by his side, listening to the reports.
Rose edged closer. She ambled across the street, ducked under the news-stand's awning, picked out a magazine, pretended to read. ...Light showers all across Regent City and the coast...looks like our October's only going to get colder, folks, better bundle up those kids for trick-or-treating...three-car pileup on I-60, no one badly hurt...Mt. Calyx hospital reports that...
Rose allowed herself a moment of relief. Maybe...maybe it had been chalked up as a fluke...maybe...
...More information on last night's subway attack...
Her spine went stiff.
...No casualties. A survivor and eyewitness to the perpetrator is currently in stable condition. While wild dogs are rare in Regent City, we do warn all our listeners that...
"Wild dogs?" Rose said, out loud.
The stand owner looked up sharply. "Hey," he said. "You gonna buy that?"
Rose glanced down at the magazine. Engines Quarterly. Heisenberg didn't have this edition yet. It had just come out.
"Yeah," she said. "Actually, I am."
Heading to school on the city bus, Rose hunched down in the seat, glanced around, then got out her phone. It was a super-shitty old one- Heisenberg had tried to juice it up too, but there was only so much he could do- and it took a long time for anything to load. Once it did, she scanned the breaking news articles one after another, trying to see if Mara or anyone else had mentioned her. Most of the articles agreed that it had been wild dogs. One posited that someone had gone psycho after snorting horse Viagra- apparently maulings were a common side effect of that activity- though judging from the comments section it wasn't a widely shared theory.
By the time Rose reached her stop the relief was enough to get her sluggish self off the bus and into school. Still, she tugged her knit hat down, like that would hide her face, and hunched into her coat, trying to get from class to class with as much speed as possible.
The conversation in her classes was a buzz on the edge of her awareness. Parties, Halloween events, weekend plans. Someone mentioned the subway incident, but it was more about how metal it was that there had been an animal attack in the middle of Regent City. No details. Rose's mind kept drifting to her ill-fated interview at Vinnie's Meat Hut. Ugh, she shouldn't have been such a brat. She needed money. She needed...
Just talk to Heisenberg.
Just talk.
She cut off her thoughts with a shake of her head. No. She had to do this herself. Besides, he was keeping things from her. Big things. If he was gonna know about what she was up to, he had to earn it.
When the bell rang for lunch, she didn't head with her friends to the lunchroom. Instead, she made a beeline for the library. The hush enfolded her, a few other students hunched over reading tables or sitting in the computer lab. Rose claimed a computer, logged in, and navigated to the search engine. Glancing to and fro, she hunched a little further forward before taking the metal disc from her pocket.
It gleamed in the light from the computer screen. She set it on the edge of the keyboard, then typed in
EMBRYO
Nothing, of course. Just the usual definition, wiki, et cetera. Embryo test and project embryo turned up even fewer results- just articles about artificial wombs, lab rats, in vitro shit. Rose stuck out her tongue as she scrolled through the image results, then, with a spike of frustration, shut down the search engine and left the computer lab for the library front desk.
The librarian looked up as she approached. It was the same one as the day before, a mid-thirties woman with a braid over her shoulder.
"'Scuse me," Rose said. She slapped the disc down on the desk. "Can I look up barcodes here?"
She looked up from her computer. "...What? Is this for a project?"
"Yeah. Research project. Big thing. Really important." Rose lifted her eyebrows. "So can I? Scan barcodes?"
"Um..." The librarian's eyes flicked to the disc. She smiled a little. "You're...Rosemary, right?"
"Rose."
"Rose, I think this...what is this? A dog tag?"
"Sort of."
"Well," she said, indulgently, "I think you'd need the database for whatever...whatever data is on this if you wanted the code to lead to anything. Right?" Her smile turned apologetic. "Sorry I can't be of more help."
"Sure. Yeah. No, it's okay," Rose began. Dumbass. Of course. "I, just, I-"
"Rose."
She went stiff. She stared down at the desk for a couple seconds, then turned.
Sam stood behind her, hands in her jean jacket pockets, staring down like Rose had just been staring. Dark circles cut under her eyes, her brows drawn together. She kind of looked like she'd been crying. Rose looked around, but none of Sam's friends were anywhere to be seen.
"What do you want?" Rose said.
"I...look..." Sam squeaked her boot along the ground. "I understand if...if you want to tell me to shove off, but..."
"A little bit, yeah."
Her eyes flicked up. She had been crying, Rose realized with a pang. Her eyes were red and puffy, the skin under them pearlescent.
"Can we talk?" Sam said. "Somewhere else?"
Rose opened her mouth. "Yeah," she said. Her voice was soft. "Yeah, of course."
They ended up in the alleyway. The same one as before. The dumpster was back upright, the dog monster's black blood entirely washed away by the rain. The air smelled crisp, clean. Rose sat on the steps, while Sam paced back and forth in front of her.
"So?" Rose said. "Talk."
"I..." Sam stopped. She let out her breath. Then she reached in her bag and brought out her phone. "I know Mara."
The air seemed to siphon from Rose's lungs. Her vision shocked white.
"What?" she said.
"Yeah. I mean...sort of. My friend, Necro, he's in band with me...they went to middle school together. She goes to East Regent High now, but...he knows her. And he was texting her in the hospital. And she said..." Sam scrolled through her phone. "She said...a girl saved her. A blonde girl. With black stuff that came out of her. Someone told her not to talk about it, but she couldn't keep quiet about who saved her. She said...this girl...drove the monster away."
"The monster," Rose whispered.
Sam nodded.
"It was you," she said. "Wasn't it?"
Rose looked at her hands. She drew in a slow breath. As she did, black veins twined through her skin, undulating slightly, like living things. She clenched her fists and they retracted. Sam didn't move. She stood there, watching her with dark, unreadable eyes.
Rose nodded.
"Monster attacked me last night," she said. "I took care of it."
Sam let out a laugh. The sound of it bordered on the hysterical. "Took care of it? You freaking hit it with a subway train, dude!"
She couldn't help but smirk. Heisenberg would be proud. "A little bit."
"That totally beats your goth hobo dad's stop sign maneuver, hands down."
"He's not my real dad," Rose confessed.
"...Huh?"
"He kind of saved me from, among other things, a draconic vampire lady's psychic nightmare dreamscape palace when I was a baby. He's been taking care of me ever since."
Sam took this all in with a blink, but all she said was "And he's...like you?"
"Pretty much."
"Good thing he's not your real dad," Sam said. "I'd hate to meet your mom."
Rose snorted. She doubled over with laughter; it kept coming, snorts and hiccups, uncontrollable; her eyes began to water. Sam started to laugh, too, one hand pressed to her mouth. She leaned against the far wall, her smooth brown throat open to the cool air. Warmth radiated in the pit of Rose's stomach, and despite her exhaustion, her aches and pains, the distance still between her and Sam, she couldn't help but be glad to be here, now, with her.
Their laughter died, and the silence came in once more.
"The way I talked to you..." Sam began.
"You were scared. I get it."
"Not just that." She looked down. "My aunt lived in Raccoon City."
"Oh."
"Yeah. She and my mom...they were super close. After...after what happened...after they just...never found her..." Sam shook her head, her gaze faraway. "My mom was apparently never the same. She's..."
She cut off.
"This stuff," she went on, "these...things. They've destroyed so many people's lives. They've taken so much away from so many. I was...I was scared, yeah. But...I didn't want to be scared of you...just of...of that."
The corner of Rose's mouth quirked in a tiny smile. "That?"
"You know." She wriggled her fingers. "That!"
"Are those my tentacles?" Rose said, letting her voice go sepulchral on the last word.
"Well, I can't summon them, so yeah."
Rose nodded.
"I get it," she said. "But, Sam...this power. These things I can do..." Her throat tightened. "They are me. Don't you understand? I can't put them down. I can't ever be apart from them. I...sometimes, I wish..."
She cut off, then began again. "They are me," she said again. "And. And you get all of me, or you don't get me at all."
Her face was hot, but her voice hadn't shook. Sam still stared at her. Her eyes were bright in the trace of weak sunlight from above. A momentary break in the clouds.
"Can you accept that?" Rose said.
Sam paused. Then-
She nodded.
"I think so," she said.
"Good," Rose said. "I need your help. You said Mara told you guys that someone told her not to talk?"
"Yeah."
"You have any money for flowers?" Rose said. "Because we've got a hospital to visit."
***
"Fuck school," Sam said, starting up her car.
"You're, like, a straight A student," Rose said.
"That's why I can say fuck school." She backed out of the school lot and they were off. "I've earned school-fucking privileges."
The drive to Mt. Calyx grew darker by the minute, the afternoon's brief respite from the rain over. Raindrops spattered Sam's windshield as they drew closer. Rose's hands were clammy; she tried not to fidget, but she picked at a hole in her jeans anyway. Sam glanced over, but said nothing. From the line between her eyebrows, she was a little leery, too.
Mt. Calyx rose above the surrounding buildings. It was built atop one of Regent City's hills, sloping up from the docks district to overlook the city below. The hospital was an imposing steel-and-glass structure with extensive, tree-lined grounds, its name done in bright teal lights across its front facade. After parking, Rose and Sam dawdled by the car, shivering in the chill wind, staring up at the building.
"Kind of creepy, don't you think?" Sam said. "Hospitals, I mean?"
"I've never really been inside a hospital before."
"You serious?"
Rose nodded. "Me and Heisenberg, we...kind of heal on our own. With him, there's some extra organs to deal with-"
"Extra- what, now?" She shook her head. "Long story, right?"
"They all are." In the long years of her child-and-tween-hood, Rose and Heisenberg had bounced from cheap apartment to cheap apartment, motel to abandoned warehouse, never staying for more than a couple years, tops. They'd watched a ton of television- together, sometimes, Heisenberg making constant observations and jokes at the expense of the characters, but mostly Rose alone, huddled under a blanket, staring at the screen, waiting for Heisenberg to come back. It was all kind of a mystery. With his powers, he could have done anything, made fuckloads of cash, become famous, but he never had. Back then, Rose hadn't questioned it- it was the two of them against the world, and no one else mattered- but now she wondered if it hadn't all been for her benefit, if he'd stayed under the radar to keep her under the radar in turn.
Once she would have chalked that up to pure love.
Now?
She couldn't think about that right now, couldn't think about him. Point was, they'd watched a lot of hospital dramas. A lot. Rose knew the procedure, even if she'd never experienced it.
"Come on," she said. "Let's not keep Mara waiting."
They made their way through the sliding doors and into the hospital proper. The lobby smelled subtly luxurious, paneled in wood, the lights kept tastefully low, but under the muffled murmur of conversations and the music played softly on hidden speakers, Rose detected a tang of something like disinfectant, chalky and stinging.
Her nerves prickled. She shoved her hands in her pockets in case her mold started to show. Sam went and spoke to the front desk person, who handed out clip-on visitor's badges and a hospital map.
"She's in the recovery wing," Sam said, returning to Rose. "Room D-6- oh! Look! A shop. Perfect."
She went to the gift shop and bought a bouquet of pink flowers. As she did, Rose's phone began to vibrate. An unknown number. That would probably be Heisenberg. She chewed her lip. Shit, had the school called Heisenberg or something? Usually he couldn't care less whether or not she skipped out on class. After last night had he decided to play responsible-parent after all?
She shoved it back into her pocket and hurried to Sam's side. This time of day, the hospital was quiet, a few nurses chatting in a break area, a doctor working at a computer in a glassed-in office. Rose kept glancing around, then reminding herself not to look suspicious.
"Don't look suspicious," Sam whispered.
"I know!"
"We're not doing anything wrong, we're just visiting a friend."
"I know," Rose said again. She stared down a hallway, pale green walls giving the light an underwater quality. "I just...weirds me out, is all. This place. I..."
She trailed away.
A memory. Suddenly. Like it had walked through a door in her mind. That smell. Chemicals and disinfectant, medical supplies and- mold. A woman's voice, singing her to sleep. Hush, now, child, the wolves are coming, hush, I pray you, hush, or they will make your worries their meal...
The language was unfamiliar, lulling and strange. But Rose recognized every word. She heard it, even now. Faraway, faraway. That song.
Her eyes- golden?
A place deep underground.
Pulse. The hallway was no longer a hospital, modern and clean, but the rocky, lightless cave passageway. The glitter of crystal, the rumble of something underfoot. Something deep, and old. Something sleeping.
Something waiting.
Another pulse. The memory left her. She was back in her body, but she was cold, still staring, white shocking into her vision with each heartbeat. She felt the slick squirm of her mold through her skin, tightening around her heart. Was this a panic attack? Heisenberg wasn't here. He wasn't here. Oh, shit, was she gonna freak out? She needed him bad. She needed-
A warm hand clasped hers. She jumped with a gasp. Sam stared up at her, concern bright in her eyes.
"Rose?" she said.
Her breathing sounded jagged, strangled.
"I..." she began. She and Sam shuffled to the side as a couple nurses walked past, barely giving them a second look. "I'm...I saw...I thought..."
She looked down the hallway, but it was no longer natural rock traced into form by a lantern held aloft, picking out the glitter of crystals growing from the walls, just a regular-ass hospital hallway. The panic slowly ebbed; warmth came back into her limbs.
Sam's grip on her helped.
She realized just how hard Sam was holding her hands, and heat rushed into her face so fast she was surprised her head didn't straight-up explode. She jerked her hands from Sam's. Sam's eyes widened a little, then dipped to her boot toes.
She stepped back.
"I..." Rose started- to apologize, maybe- holding your hands makes me feel way too much right now and I just can't- I'm sorry, Sam, I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you again-
She didn't go on.
"It's okay," Sam said. She gave Rose a wry smile. "Hey, if you'd passed out or something at least we're already at the hospital."
"Funny," Rose told her. Still, she managed to return Sam's smile.
As they left, she glanced down the hall once more.
Empty.
An echo of singing traced her mind.
Hush now, child. The wolves are coming.
***
They found Mara's room on the next floor up.
The nurse on duty let them in. "She's been through a lot," she told them. "Take it easy, okay?"
"Don't worry." Sam gave her her most winning smile. "We're not gonna bite."
Rose dug her elbow into Sam's ribs as the nurse left.
"What?" Sam said, with a wheeze.
Inside, the lights were turned low, the room's single window washed by rain. The television was on, casting pale light over the hunched shape of a girl in the bed. Her long auburn hair hung loose around her shoulders; her eyes were bruised. She lay with one leg bandaged, tubes leading from the crook of her arm to the saline bag on a stand nearby, her gaze unfocused and lowered. When the door clicked shut, she gave a little gasp and whirled.
"Hi, Mara," Sam said, giving her a wave.
"Sam?"
"Yep. And look who I brought with me." Sam stood aside. Mara's eyes widened.
"Oh, my god," she breathed. "It's you."
"Again. Yeah. I didn't get to introduce myself before," Rose said. She ventured forward and sat by Mara's bedside. Behind her, Sam put the flowers into an empty mug on a counter. "I'm Rose. I'm glad you're okay."
"Thanks to you. I thought that thing was gonna eat me." She scrambled awkwardly forward and before Rose could react caught her up in a hug. Rose stiffened, then put her arms, slowly, around Mara. It's okay, she told herself. This is okay.
"Thank you," Mara whispered. She pulled back, her eyes bright. "What was it, anyway?" She gave her a quick glance-over. "...You're not another one, are you?"
"No! Not...uh. Not like that, anyway. That's kind of what I'm here to find out. To make sure you were all right, and to get more information."
"Sure. Anything."
"Is there anyone else here?"
"My mom's just stepped out to go grab some stuff from home-"
"No," Rose said. She looked back toward the windows that looked out to the corridor. Sam quickly whisked the blinds shut. "Not your mom. You said someone didn't want you talking about what really happened. All the papers say it was a wild dog attack, but that's bullshit. Tons of people saw the monster. No matter how scared you are you're not gonna confuse a six-foot strawberry jello monster for a pack of wild anything."
Mara stared at her as she talked, fiddling with her hospital gown. The rain cast eerie shadows over her face.
"They warned me to shut my mouth," she said. "They told me...they told me it would be...bad for the public if I didn't...that it wouldn't do anyone any good to talk about things I didn't understand..."
"Listen." Rose took the Embryo disc from her pocket and held it up. "I found this in the monster's remains. The monster was the fifth test. Don't you get it? Someone is sending these things out. Someone is making them. And if I don't stop it, more people are gonna get hurt."
Mara's eyes shone in the light from the television screen, the sound turned down to a low murmur nearly drowned out by the rain.
"She showed up right after the doctors finished with my leg," she whispered.
"She?" Rose asked. "Who's she?"
"I..." Mara began. "I thought she was part of the hospital staff...a therapist or something. She was wearing, like, nice clothes under a white coat but she wasn't one of the other doctors. She had this...thing? Like a phone but smaller, and it flashed, and it felt like everything I saw in the subway was getting sucked out of my head. And then she told me not to say anything about it."
"Do you remember anything else? What she looked like? Any kind of...symbols she was wearing? Anything?"
Mara shook her head. "When she flashed that thing her face went fuzzy. I could see it but not, you know? Like my eyes wouldn't focus but it was my brain."
Rose glanced at Sam. The other girl's face was paler than normal, her arms crossed over her stomach.
"Okay," Rose said. "I-"
Her phone began to buzz again. "Sorry," she muttered, and looked at the screen. Another unknown number. Jesus, would he keep calling her until she picked up?
"Hang on," she said. "It's my...just hang on..."
She went over to the window. "What?" she said into the phone.
"Kid? That you?"
"Yes. I'm...kind of busy right now."
"What's going on? You're not doing anything stupid, are you?"
"Would you be able to tell the difference?"
"Cool it, pipsqueak. This fucking-" Something clattered, and he yelled indistinctly at it for a few seconds before returning. "-Fuckin' school of yours said you were gone-"
"Yes, and now I'm busy, so if you don't mind-"
"Don't you hang up on me! You need to get your ass home, you hear me? Get it home, now, or tell me where you are and I'll come and get you, I swear to-"
His voice hissed into static. Rose looked at the phone.
"Heisenberg?" she said.
"-don't- dangerous- need-" More static. With a crackle, the signal dropped, the call lost.
"Everything okay?" Sam asked, still too-pale.
"I...I'm not sure-" Rose began.
Voices echoed down the corridor. Sam peered through the blinds, then looked back up. "Shit," she said.
"What?"
"We need to move," she said. "I think someone's coming."
#re8#re8 fanfiction#resident evil#resident evil village#rosemary winters#karl heisenberg#rosemary winters x oc#chapter 5
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💭📚for the fic writer ask game?
riaaa ty for the ask!!
💭 What inspires you and your writing?
honestly anything and everything does! i've pulled inspiration from just about everything you can think of - other shows/movies/books, posts i see, stories people tell me, something i hear someone say, things that have happened to me personally, poetry i read, songs i listen to, random objects i see out in the wild, things i'm feeling.
all i need is something that sends a spark into my brain and then i'm off.
📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?
ooh, okay i looove reccing fics and writers so this is a great one. however, i feel like most of the writers that i would normally rec are our friends or writers i know you've already heard of lol, sooooo i will give a couple of fics this time instead!
first up:
someone else's favorite song by @fastcardotmp3
i am currently about halfway through this one and it is absolutely gorgeous. a beautiful exploration of grief and friendship and love and what that all means when it gets tangled up and the edges start to blur. literally anything by dot is a masterpiece and this one is no exception to that!!
heed the ominous warning of talking heads by audacity_of_bluejays
this one was SO good omg. i know you're picky about your time travel lol so before you see that tag and go hm not gonna chance it, it's important that you know that it's not really time travel per se? it's more like steve gets transported to an alternate universe that exists because he made one decision instead of another at a previous point in time to show him how his life would be if he actually does that. and he has to like figure out how to get back to his own universe so he can make sure this one doesn't happen for him. it's a really good one and the platonic stobin in this one is also sososooo good, they are ride or die in any universe in any circumstance and that's so nice to see here.
your cosmic call sign by @nancywheeeler
okay i know i recced this one on the server already after i finished reading it but im reccing it again bc holy fuck it's so good and i love it so much. the vibes in this one are off the charts. it's got sci-fi, it's got bowie, it's got radio dj eddie, it's got a homemade documentary, it's got aliens, it's got everything. oh and the format of the fic is SO cool, like it's got radio show excerpts and newspaper article pieces and things like that interspersed through the actual story that add SO much and it's just so awesome and so creative. also the fact that super 8 (aka my favorite movie) is mentioned in the beginning authors note is just. an automatic win for this fic bc that movie is my favorite and it is so underrated and the fact that it was an inspiration for this fic is everything to me sdkfs.
hours and hours by @steddiesupportgroup
i read this one a while ago but it has been on my mind sooo much the past few days lol. it's a pwp lmfao, bc what is friendship if not reccing pwp's to each other right? but yeah it's got a lot going on but never in a way that makes it feel overwhelming as a reader, and it all melds together very well. it's heady, it's languid yet purposeful, it's passionate, it's fun, it's full of care. a very very good read!!
noise by @viagoh
i'm sure nico is probably tired of seeing my name pop up in their notifications but i cannot not gush about all of their stuff. their art is everything to me but this fic!! this fic is sooo good and sooo beautifully written!! a glimpse at steve and eddie's relationship and a brief exploration of steve's parents and what they meant to him. a trip down memory lane but in a way that's sort of bittersweet. tw for some memory loss but it's more of an allusion to it, like it's not quiiiiite happening yet but it's something that will happen later down the line. but yeah, the characterization in this one is just sooo spot on and i love the way that steve and eddie's dynamic was written here, it's so good.
fanfic writer ask game
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Much Ado About Something: the Total Eclipse of the Sun
I thought I would describe a few observations and thoughts about the total solar eclipse of 2024. For me, it had a surprising happy ending. America and perhaps the world seemed to be so excited about this event, probably because its path striped through the heartland of our country and is a relatively rare event (they happen roughly every 20 years but more like every 400 in a given location). But the hunger for this news had me thinking of how much the people had been disturbed by the mass formation psychosis of the pandemic and its aftermath. The next big thing was here. I am a stargazer myself and am generally quite excited about any major celestial goings on, fancy myself an armchair lover of planets and comets and distant galaxies. So it is natural for me to be similarly expectant of such an event that promised to go right over my own house as well as my sister’s in Indianapolis as the shadow of totality travelled from Mexico to the New England states. The whole world was buzzing, but I was strangely detached, a bit jaded. I did not even plan to buy the special glasses being sold to protect my eyes from looking at the edges of the sun during the eclipse. My plan was just to go outside for a while to feel the sense of things when darkness came.
As the eclipse approached, weather forecasters were on high alert and with anxious eyes on them as the forecast began to predict heavy low cloud cover here in central Texas as apparently tens of thousands of people descended like lemmings on cities and festivals throughout America along the path of the shadow. Traffic jams and logistic nightmares were reported as late as yesterday morning in the Texas hill country as I rolled my eyes at the breathless hordes of people jammed into a thin ribbon of the world to get their chance to film something for their Instagram and Facebook profiles. The uproarious excitement was nearly as total as the promised covering of the sun’s surface. Meanwhile, Joyce offered me an extra pair of special sunglasses that she got free when she bought hers, so I thanked her and took my pair home yesterday just to have handy in case the clouds stayed away.
I marked my clocks for the duration of totality on either side of 30 minutes and told myself I would leave my phone and radio and any connection to the rest of the world inside my house. I would sit in a plastic lawn chair for an hour next to my Mexican sycamore and absorb the event holistically, observe the world and nature as the eclipse approached and during totality��and if I was lucky—the thick low canopy of clouds might part for a few seconds and allow me a peek through the sunglasses I held in my hand. As it turned out, the clouds above my house began to open large chunks of sky overhead as the partial eclipse began. I took a few glances through the glasses at the sun, which had become a bright crescent as the moon moved across from the southwest. But mostly I just sat and watched the trees and birds, listened to the singing of purple martins and grackles and cardinals as well as the barking of dogs now and then. I waited for the light to dim, which happened slowly. Then the clouds rolled back in as martins circled the neighborhood with their usual joyful singing chirps, circled the bird house in my yard, made quite a racket—which was not that strange. The purple martins tend to chatter when they are in proximity.
Other than a pale dimness growing all around, everything seemed normal. The eclipse was happening, the sun was disappearing. Thanks to my glasses, I watched the slow progression of the event through wispy clouds and occasional gaps in them. The martins continued their swarming and singing but began roosting on the electric wires and bird house as the neighboring martin family swooped then disappeared over to the neighbor’s bird house. Grackles and starlings began perching in trees. Temperatures dropped slightly. Still no dramatic moments of nature. As the eclipse deepened, I watched the crescent of the sun get smaller, leaned back as leaves of trees began to flutter in the breeze with white underneath as if in anticipation of an approaching storm. Pesky clouds continued to dance thinly in front of the sun and moon, often darkening the view so I could not view through the dark polarized glasses, so I would just sit back and look around and listen as gray turned darker gray, birds flew in smaller packs across the sky, and even a few mourning doves took wing into the tops of a tall crape myrtle across the yard to perch silently. They were roosting for the night of day.
Up in some large pecan trees next door, I heard the strange squawking of blue jays or grackles as darkness deepened. The songs of birds then softened and stopped. Clouds were obscuring the eclipse for me just as totality began, and though I had glasses that I would not have bought for myself, I remember thinking then that I would be disappointed not to see the event just as its apex was happening. I could no longer see the sun and moon through the glasses, so again I just sat back to experience it as best I could. The dogs and grackles and martins and doves were all silent now. The dark gray became night, and I looked up a moment to see nothing but dark clouds when I heard a dull roar in the distance of people cheering somewhere in town as I sat in my chair. Automatic lights were on inside houses’ windows across the street, the slate gray of the sky felt like thunderheads almost touching my roof, and as the cheers in the distance continued, I glanced up again to see it with my bare eyes: there it was--the total eclipse of the sun, a disk of black surrounded by a ring of fire and diamonds all around. Too dark to see through the sunglasses through the clouds, I took a few more looks with my naked eyes and was suddenly dumbfounded by the cool air in the darkness, the fading of human voices, and a primordial snapshot of the immensity of the moment surrounded by the hush of the world and me experiencing it separately and together.
The orb of the sun sat above me in a moment of eerie, fantastic wonderment, the diamond ring looking down at me like the eye of Sauron, and I felt grateful to be there inside it all—a creepy, fleeting, beautiful thing. Then off to the right and behind me came some strange grunts followed by low throaty sounds in the darkness of some nandina bushes, and I realized a bull frog was declaring to the rest of the world that his nighttime domain had begun. The frog was in his routine and dominion for about three minutes, and then the slow process of the partial eclipse reversed itself while I sat and watched and listened. The doves began hooting again in their secret hiding places, as if morning had begun; the frog went silent; dogs barked; and martins began flying in formation again in the emerging light. Not long after the daylight began to rise, two ghostly hawks spiraled in from the south like sentries looking for their next meal. In the gaps of clouds, I watched the waning crescent of the sun grow slowly back to normal through my special glasses.
Later in the day, I saw amazing pictures of the ring of fire, the diamonds shining through lunar valleys and craters, and the reddish loops of solar flares hugging the edge of the disk captured on high quality cameras. Truly fantastic, to be sure. The surprise and blessing for me, beyond the smart phone pictures and social media posts, was the feeling of just being there and seeing it with my own eyes, just for a few glances, feeling the cool air and sudden darkness that turned day into night, remembering how small we and our world are, thinking of how people must have felt back before history and science could explain it, connected to them and other people in the past and present in the span of a few minutes on this wonderful earth. Jaded thoughts changed to gratitude and the connectedness to millions of other people again in the blink of an eye. Sometimes you get lucky. Time almost stopped for a few minutes in the cool darkness of a Monday afternoon.
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I don't post here often, though I have considered starting an actual blog site in the near future. You can see my other blog about a memorable solo trip to Iceland here (in case you care, Tumblr places posts in blogs in reverse time order, so you have to scroll to the very bottom to read up). Life is good.
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Fort Heaven Chapter 4
Title: Fort Heaven
Author: Jay Grayson
Word Count: 69K
Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+
Available on: Kobo and my website
Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story.
Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start.
The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job.
That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing.
It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.
Full Chapter 4 under cut
Chapter 4
Some female indie singer played over the radio and filled the space of the coffee shop when the idle chatter of customers wasn’t covering it up. At most, the place could seat maybe forty people and there were around fifteen at the moment. It was also after the lunch rush and people tended to be at work at this time.
Evon didn’t have to go into the office on a daily basis and, while he wasn’t getting paid for it, he was still technically doing work. It just happened to be work that had come about as being deeply personal.
He adjusted the knitted cap on his head and shuffled his coat around to get more comfortable. Across from him, Russet seemed perfectly cool and not anxious a bit.
As soon as Yasmine heard that they would be meeting to discuss work at the new coffee shop in town, she decided she’d be doing independent research and would “meet up” with them later. It was transparently intentional.
“I got coconut milk. Hope that’s okay,” Evon said before coughing a little because of a crack in his voice.
“I’m allergic to coconuts,” Russet responded and crossed his arms.
His appearance alone was enough to distract Evon—especially since he was wearing a pair of glasses that accented his features in just the right ways. But, the panic of seemingly trying to kill the man took those thoughts over.
“You are? Since when?!”
Russet, with a smirk on his lips, didn’t say anything for a second and then picked his coffee cup up. “I’m just messing with you.”
First there was relief and then irritation—though the irritation only went so far. “You jerk.”
“What? It was too easy.”
“Meanie.”
“Meanie?” Russet questioned with a laugh. He took a sip of his drink and then sighed. “So, are you willing to listen to anything this ‘meanie’ has to say?”
“Sure; that’s why we’re here. You wanted to talk.” Evon pointed out and centered himself. If he and Russet could just bicker back and forth then things would at least feel a little normal.
“Right,” the man agreed. “I want to let you know—since we’ll be working together and all—that I have no ulterior motives. I’m not doing this because of any feelings you think I might have for you. Let’s just clear that up now and get it out of the way.”
“Well you’d already made that pretty clear,” Evon remarked with a grumble.
“Then why ask me to do this?”
As much as Evon did like him, he still had a limit to how much of his ego he could handle. “You think I asked you to help because of…that?” He shook his head. “No, I just know you’re good at what you do and you would help us get this done the fastest and with the most efficiency.”
Russet raised an eyebrow but whether or not his pride was hurt was hard to tell.
“Alright so I suppose it’s unnecessary to talk about it.”
“I don’t mind not talking about it but…you are being a bit dodgy, aren’t you?” Evon’s words put him on edge.
It had been an issue he’d always had. Evon was irritating, juvenile, a cry-baby, and honest to a fault but he somehow always knew how to get under Russet’s skin. Something about him just bothered him and the older he became the more he had an idea of what that one thing was. He just didn’t like it.
Almost a year ago, a mutual friend of Evon, Trinity, and Russet had a birthday party and invited around twenty people to a nightclub. It was a weekend so the place was quite packed which made it hard to stay together as a group.
Evon didn’t know as many people as Trinity did and Russet, unfortunately was on that same boat. Stephanie, the birthday girl, had friends with a lot of affiliations with Trinity’s jewelry story so a lot of their conversation ended up being work related.
“Leave it to the thirty year olds to go to a club and only talk about their jobs,” Evon mentioned loud enough to where his voice was heard.
Russet wasn’t far away and, as one of the people who had shown up the earliest, he’d already had a few drinks. He slid closer to the younger man so he wouldn’t have to yell. “Yeah, at least if I did my job here it wouldn’t be weird.”
That got him Evon’s attention. “It would be if you hauled around a giant camera from your studio.”
He laughed before fishing around for his phone. After pulling the camera option up, he pointed it at Evon. “I still have this.”
“Are you filming me?”
Russet nodded. “I can make a documentary.”
“About me?” Evon asked with a raised brow before laughing. It was pretty clear to him by then that the man had been drinking already.
“It’ll be called The Reality of Adulthood,” he said and waved a free hand off into the air with a dramatic flair, “A tale about Evon Sparks: The social butterfly who could no longer make friends at a party.”
The younger man’s jaw dropped. “Ass!” After they both laughed, he pointed out, “I’ll have you know I just got here. I could make friends with anyone I wanted.”
“That’s no good for my documentary.” Russet looked almost like he was pouting.
“So you just want to film me…doing nothing?” Evon asked and then looked off to the side with a roll of his eyes. “That’s thrilling. Why don’t you go bug Trinity?”
“She’s ignoring me,” he answered and walked closer as Evon started to take a few steps back.
The bar wasn’t that far away so they both squeezed into a spot and got drinks. Russet ordered for both of them and grinned. “I’ll pay.”
“Thanks,” Evon responded in kind, “So why do you say she’s ignoring you? You two get into a fight or something?”
Russet shook his head. “She’s busy with her girlfriends. There’s nothing here for a guy like me here…except the alcohol.”
“So that’s why you’re drunk,” the younger man mentioned lowly to himself.
“I am not drunk,” he’d somehow managed to hear him. Regardless, Evon gave him a disbelieving look. “What? I’m not!”
“You’d only be talking to me this much if you were impaired.” It was a joke though there was a bit of truth behind it as well.
Instead of responding to that statement, Russet leaned over and poked Evon on the side of the head and then proceeded to play with a few curly locks of hair. “We should do something more fun.”
The dim lights in the club hid the embarrassment on his face well and, in a rare event, Evon was also able to keep his voice level.
“Like what?”
It was a dangerous open ended question but the answer was quite innocent. “Go have a nap. Maybe get ice cream.”
Evon laughed at the sweet suggestion and bit down on his lower lip. Then their drinks arrived which distracted him. “You don’t want to stay and have more drinks?” he asked.
“This last one and then we leave,” Russet said, sounding rather sure of himself.
It would be Evon’s first and last drink of the night and the glass was rather small so they weren’t there for very long. And, since Russet was quite drunk, Evon drove. He took him back to his townhouse since, at the time, he was living there alone.
That was according to Evon anyway—and a few clips on Russet’s phone the next morning. Russet didn’t recall being in a car at all but did recognize when he was in Evon’s home. He was given water—a lot of water—and some pain killers.
Another time period was lost but Evon said not much happened anyway. There was a bit of TV watching though, after a while, the camera movement and colors started to make Russet feel nauseated. He remembered that. Sort of. He also remembered Evon going up to his room and then following him after a few minutes.
In his drunken state, he wasn’t questioning his thoughts and he wasn’t trying to restrain his impulses. To that point in the night, the most trouble that had gotten him into was filming boring and useless video on his phone. Walking up the stairs to get into bed with his best friend’s little brother was certainly the worst thing he did but, besides some hazy memories from a dream, he didn’t do anything more.
Waking up in his bed was a shock and sent a chill down his spine. Evon was dead asleep but he had rolled over on top of Russet’s arm and trapped him. Then, when he tried to slide his arm out, he woke up the other man.
Evon’s brow furrowed and when his eyes opened and focused, he looked just as terrified as Russet felt.
“Oh…you’re up…” he said with a crack in his voice. He must have noticed the unease on Russet’s face so he quickly went to explaining. “You don’t remember crashing here? I brought you here after the party and you fell asleep pretty quickly.”
It lined up with his memories but he still had the feeling that there was more. “We didn’t…um…?”
Evon shook his head. “No. Of course not.” He laughed dryly and played it off as a joke.
“Of course not,” he agreed, still having an off feeling.
But they hadn’t spoken of it again. Evon had his own secrets he was keeping to save the older man from embarrassment and himself from knowing the only reason he’d receive any attention from Russet was under the influence of drugs.
It was best for both of them, Evon knew, if Russet didn’t know that they’d kissed…or rather that Russet kissed him. The hard part came now that he’d brought it up and seemed to actually want to talk about it. Maybe he remembered or maybe he just wasn’t satisfied with the answer.
He was tempted to reveal the truth but he also feared it would put their deal in jeopardy. So, he figured the best thing to do was to lead Russet into telling him everything he knew or at least allow him to air his grievances and then base his answer around that.
Lying would take all of his effort since he was awfully bad at being dishonest, but he was ready to attempt it.
“So what’s the issue you want to talk about?” Evon asked and braced himself.
Russet glanced down at the table—his coffee cup specifically. “I had just been thinking that, you know, whatever happened then that we just forget about it. If anything did in fact happen.”
He was still dodging and it was borderline painful to listen to. “Do you think I lied when I said nothing happened?”
“Yes,” the man answered surprisingly fast. Even if it was true that he did technically lie… “I know it wasn’t a big one but I know something did happen and I just want to say that I’m choosing to forget about it and you should too.”
Evon almost laughed but it would have been both condescending and kind of depressing. “Okay,” he said simply instead.
“Okay.”
A long moment of silence passed while they both finished their coffees and Evon tried not to think about the night he was now supposed to simply forget. He couldn’t, of course, but he almost wished he could. The kissing, the feel of his hands against his face, his arms, and his bare stomach. It still made the hairs on his body stand on end.
To the relief of both of them, Yasmine called with news on a confirmed interview and would be on the way soon to meet them. Having her there would give them something to be distracted by and, more importantly, it would get them all closer to being finished with this little project.
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five times healed: ( five times the receiver nursed the sender back to health, or tended to their wounds ) ( Riff for Velma)
Be prepared for nearly 3000 words of cuteness and mild angst @heygutlcss
1.
Velma Miecinski is eleven years old, and for once, the apartment is quiet. Her mother has the boys out, though for what, she’s not entirely sure. Maybe to blow off some steam and energy so that they’ll be quiet later. Probably a wise decision. As for her father...well, he’s either out working, or he’s squandering what little money they have in one of the local bars. Either way, it’s more than probable that they’re in for a rough night with a lot of yelling at bare minimum. Her parents had spent all of the previous night arguing, raised voices and raised fists, all while she’d been curled up under her bed, hands over her ears and her favourite ratty blanket tugged over her head.
She likes these quiet moments though, when she’s got no one to answer to but herself, when she can hum and sing to herself whatever tune it is she’s last heard on a nearby radio and dance around the room without a care, skirts twirling. At least for a little while. Today though, a knock on the door has her pausing, glancing towards it with mild trepidation. They don’t usually get much in the way of knocking, not unless it’s from the landlord or from someone else looking something. Velma pauses, stares, and the knock comes again.
Normally, she’d just ignore it, but today, for whatever reason, she finds herself stepping up and unlocking it, opening it just enough to peer through the crack and see Riff standing there. She knows Riff well enough, considers him a fairly good friend even, but he’s never shown up on her doorstep alone before, and certainly not with blood smeared across his knuckles and crusted under his nose. Usually if Riff shows, it’s with Tony by his side, an inseparable duo. But, she reminds herself, Tony’s not about today, out with his ma for some sort of appointment that he’d mentioned previously in passing. She pulls the door open fully.
“What happened to you?” she asks.
“Can I clean up? Tony ain’t answerin’.”
It doesn’t really surprise her that her question has gone ignored. She doesn’t really know much about Riff’s home life, except that, like all of them, it’s far from great. There are some things she could probably guess at, but she says nothing. Instead she steps aside and tugs him in, locking the door behind him before leading him into her room. Her pa would kill her if he knew that she had a boy in her room, but it has a window and a fire escape that means he can clamber out without being caught if someone comes home early.
“Wait here.”
She gestures for him to sit down before scurrying to collect a few things. The tiny kit of medical supplies her ma keeps hidden behind the sink for when her da gets rough, a few old scraps of rag destined to be chucked sooner or later, and a bowl of lukewarm water. Content with her finds, she darts back to her room.
Thankfully, Riff has actually listened and done as he’d told, perched on the edge of the bed, though he is looking around curiously, taking in the new surroundings. There’s not that much of a mess, not really, a spare sock here, an old magazine there, a hair ribbon strewn across her dresser. Nothing interesting certainly, and his eyes snap to her as she enters, a hint of thinly veiled surprise in his expression as she kneels down in front of him, reaching for his hand. Slowly, warily, he places his hand in hers.
His knuckles aren’t actually too bad, once she’s cleaned away some of the mess. Granted, there are a few bigger scrapes that make her dig out the little pot of cream her ma sometimes uses for cuts, but there’s no real need for bandages. Not that she has all that many anyway, so it’s probably for the best that she doesn’t need to use them. Quietly, she rinses out the cloth, before glancing up at his face. He’s staring right back at her, blue eyes somehow both intense and soft at the same time. For as long as she’s known him- four years now? – he’s always been intense. Not in a bad way, she’s used to it, it’s just who Riff is. And though she would never admit it...she does think he’s kind of cute.
Slowly, unsure how he’ll respond, she raises her hand to cup his cheek. He just stares without speaking, so delicately she dabs at the smear of blood beneath his nose. It’s not broken, as far as she can tell, but it is beginning to bruise a little, purple and blue across milk bottle white. He watches her the entire time. Finally, she sets the rag aside.
“All clean.”
Velma offers him a tentative smile, and Riff returns it, but just as it seems he’s about to say something, there’s an all too familiar heavy thudding on the front door and a vicious roar.
“OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!!!”
Jumping back a little, Velma glances from the door, to Riff, to the window, before shoving him in the direction of the latter with a hissed “go!”. Without looking back, she darts from the room as fast as she can. Pa doesn’t like to be kept waiting after all.
When she returns to her room, the window is open, a soft breeze blowing against her curtains, and Riff is gone. So is the ribbon she’d left sitting on the dresser.
2.
It’s decided: Velma does not like hospitals.
What she especially doesn’t like though is how small Riff looks in the hospital bed, or how the sheets make his already pale complexion look practically translucent. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be here. It shouldn’t have come to this. The thought of nearly losing him is enough to bring tears right back to her eyes all over again.
He’s lucky to be alive. That’s what the doctors told them, but it haunts Velma more that he’d even done it in the first place. That he’d felt the need to. For more than the first time in her life, she wishes that they could all just steal away, find some far away place where nothing and no one can ever get at them or hurt them, ever again. Somewhere peaceful, somewhere free. She wishes she could save him from everything, including his own mind.
As it is, she’s spent every spare minute that the hospital will allow (as well as quite a few that they don’t) by his side, his hand clasped tightly in hers. He shouldn’t be alone, she’s said. Besides, he hasn’t exactly got any blood family coming to be by his side any time soon. Tony’s been here plenty too though, just like she has. They’re the only family that matters.
It’s not going to be easy, getting him back on his feet. There’s damage there, and it’s going to take a lot of work. But they’ll get there, she’s sure they will. She won’t give up on him, she would never give up on him. She loves him, and sure, some people might laugh and say that it won’t last, that it’s just young love, puppy love, that they’ll grow apart in time, but they’re wrong. They’re wrong, her and Riff’ll last forever, of that she’s absolutely certain. One day, maybe, they’ll have their own place, and Tony can come round to visit. She doesn’t mind where it is, so long as she’s with Riff.
When Velma looks up from where she’s had her head ducked down to press a kiss to his knuckles, blue eyes are looking back at her, hazy with pain and medication, but undoubtedly alive. She sniffles a little, but she forces a smile onto her face, reaching up to cup his cheek and to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes.
“It’s okay Hardie...it’s all going to be okay.”
3.
Rumbles always leave Velma a little on edge.
It’s not that she thinks Riff can’t fight- she knows he’s a scrapper, he always has been – and she knows it’s important to him to defend the Jets and their turf, but she worries nonetheless. Worries that he’ll get unlucky, that he’ll end up fighting the wrong person, or that things will escalate too far. That something will happen, and Krupke will drag him off and lock him up somewhere. Until he’s back in her arms, Velma knows she won’t be able to settle for the night.
She already has some things sitting ready to clean him up, because win or lose, he’s likely to come back with bloody knuckles and more bruises and cuts than he can count, and she’ll need to patch him up before he even considers going near her bed so they can curl up and get some sleep.
Finally, after it seems like she’s just about to wear a hole in the floor from her pacing, a familiar face appears at her window, pausing before climbing through, thankfully steady on his feet, and she rushes to him, quickly looking him up and down. He’s come off better this time than last. His lip’s split, a thin trail of blood trickled down his chin, and he’s got a hell of a shiner already brewing, but beyond that she can only really see a handful of superficial cuts and bruises and nothing else. Thank God.
“We stomped ‘em, Vel! Emeralds won’t be botherin’ us no more, we seen to that!”
Riff grins at her, and she clucks her tongue fondly, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek before she speaks again, her hand resting against her chest, “Good. Everybody get home safe?”
He nods, “Little Moly got a bit of a batterin’, but Ice is looking after him, and Diesel’s doin’ the rounds to make sure everybody else gets home without too much bother.”
His response satisfies her. They’ve known Diesel for years, and if there’s anyone they can trust to make sure that everyone gets back without any issue, it’s Diesel. No-one fucks with Diesel, though he’s a real teddy bear when you get to know him. With that concern safely set aside, she can focus on her boyfriend a little better.
“Sit.”
It’s a little feeling of déjà vu, him sitting on the edge of her bed, her cleaning him up, because they’ve been here so many times before. This time at least her job is mercifully simple, though she does make sure to kiss every bruise she finds ever so delicately. As she finishes, he gently tugs her up to stand between his knees, his hands resting on her hips, craning his neck up a little to kiss her. Velma hums softly, one hand moving to toy with his hair for a moment before pulling back.
“C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”
4.
Velma really, really hates hospitals.
She’d always prayed that she would never end up back in one in a situation like this, and yet here she is, just like she was all those years ago. Except this time, Riff is sleeping off a stab wound, the Jets have fallen to pieces, and Tony won’t be coming to visit, because Tony is dead. The world is cruel. There’s no way she’s ever going to be able to look Mouthpiece in the eye ever again, never mind feel safe being in the same room as him. Grazie is still sobbing over Tony, hasn’t stopped, and Velma is alone in the hospital. Baby John has been in a few times- his ma is a nurse, and has bent the rules for them more than once- but he can only stay so long.
For nearly the past year, she’s been telling herself that splitting from Riff was the right thing to do, even though in her heart she still loves him. Now she’s not so sure. Now, a boy she’d once thought of as sweet and gentle and caring has committed such an incredibly vile act, and the boy who owns her heart (who will always own her heart) and has her name tattooed on his wrist is lying in a hospital bed with several stitches in his chest.
Her world is upside down, but god knows she loves him.
The worst thing is that there’s so little she can actually do. Everything is in such disarray, Grazie hasn’t even come anywhere near the hospital, and all she’s been able to do is sit and pray that she won’t lose Riff too. She can’t lose him, she just can’t, there’s no way that she would be able to cope without him. The thought of a life without ever being able to see that cocky smirk again, or the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, or feel his hand card through her hair...it just doesn’t even bear contemplating.
But that’s not going to happen, she tells herself. Riff’s going to be fine, he’s going to recover, and get out of hospital, and they’re going to figure this all out. They’ll get by, the way they always have, and maybe, just maybe, life will finally choose to smile kindly on them for once.
For now though, Velma won’t leave his side, not if she can help it. Quietly, she takes his hand, raising it to kiss the inside of his wrist where her own name lies in stark lettering.
They’re going to be alright.
5.
It’s amazing just how much life can change in the space of a few short years.
Granted, it’s been a chaotic few years, but Velma doesn’t regret a single moment of it. In truth, leaving the city had been the best decision that they had ever made. They have a home now here, not a shitty little apartment, but a home, with rooms and windows and a garden with a green clothesline. The air is clean, and they’ve got little flowerbeds, and it’s not perfect, but it’s as close as they might ever hope to get. It’s like a dream.
Humming to herself, Velma smiles contentedly as she ducks into one of the rooms. Nellie is still fast asleep, the two year old curled around the teddy that’s almost as big as she is. Velma still remembers all too well when it was almost twice her size. Her baby is growing up, far too fast for her liking, and her little personality is showing more and more by the day, bright and bubbly and sassy. Fond, Velma stoops to kiss her forehead and brush some dark blonde hair from her face, before leaving her to sleep. She’ll be up and awake soon enough, and no doubt causing havoc, so she’ll take the peace while she can get it. Standing upright, she takes a moment to rest her hand on her slowly forming bump. Six months time, and Nellie will be a big sister. The thought is both terrifying and exciting all at once, though she suspects Riff is stressing out about it more than she is.
Speaking of her husband, Riff isn’t up yet, which is a little unusual. Most mornings he’s awake before her- although admittedly morning sickness has had her winning that race more often lately- but he’d still been dozing when she’d dragged herself out of bed this morning. As she continues along the hallway, she hears a short cough, and understanding dawns on her.
It doesn’t take her long to double back to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and to grab the bottle of cough medicine from the cabinet. It doesn’t surprise her that Riff has gotten sick- Nellie had been down with the cold just last week, and while she’d been clingy with both of them, there’d been a solid two days where she had wanted absolutely no one but her daddy, and had been glued to his side at every available opportunity.
Pushing the door open, Velma smiles softly as she sees her husband sitting propped up in bed and looking a little worse for wear. A few steps has her perching on the edge of the sheets beside him, setting the tea on the little bedside table and pressing the cough bottle into his hands before kissing his cheek.
“You’ll get sick,” Riff grumbles, and she can hear the concern in his voice, see the way his eyes flicker to her barely there bump with worry.
“We got a clingy, germy toddler in the house, Hardie, it comes with the territory. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he is abated for the meantime, and takes the medicine without (too much) complaint, his arm wrapping around her waist so she can lean into him a little bit. For a sweet moment, the two of them just drink in the peace and quiet, holding each other close until...
“Mama!”
And that’s her cue. Tilting her head to peck him gently on the lips, Velma brushes a curl from his eyes before getting to her feet. Toddlers aren’t exactly known for their patience after all, and Nellie is certainly a prime example in that regard.
“Drink your tea...I love you Hardie.”
“I love you too Softie.”
#answered#fic#heygutlcss#~ when you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong | dyn: velma/riff ~
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Disney Princess Life
I'm Lily, the eldest daughter of Aboitiz Family, and this is the story of my tragic and most Disney-like princess life. My family and I were known as a happy and strong family. And it is summer time, we will be getting a lot of family vacation and bonding.
So one day, I woke up to the sound of my mom's voice calling me downstairs. It was early on a Saturday morning, and I was filled with excitement for the day ahead. My family and I had planned a 3-day trip to the beach, and I couldn't wait to spend some quality time with them. As I walked down the stairs, I could smell the aroma of pancakes and bacon wafting from the kitchen.
“Lily, get ready, we’ve got something to do” Mrs. Aboitiz said.
“Alright, alright… stop being a nagger mom, I’ve got this”
“You better be, honey… Or else, we will leave you behind, got it?”
“Yeah a’right…”
My dad was at the stove, flipping pancakes while my younger sister was setting the table. My mom was packing our beach bags and making sure we had everything we needed for the 3-day vacation.
After we finished breakfast, we loaded up the car and set off on our adventure. “Here we go! To the happiest summer vacation of the family” Mr. Aboitiz said.
“Hurraaaaay!” said altogether in a scream.
As we drove, we sang along to the radio and played games like I Spy and 20 Questions—a fun game that practices students’ speaking and listening skills. My dad’s phone rang but we did not seem to be bothered by it, as it was a long drive but it didn't feel like it because we were having so much fun together.
When we arrived at the beach, we unloaded our gear and found a spot to set up camp. My sister and I ran to the water's edge, splashing and playing in the waves while my parents set up chairs and umbrellas. We spent the day building sandcastles, playing frisbee, and swimming in the ocean. We even took a break to enjoy a picnic lunch, complete with sandwiches, fruit, and cookies. I say, “Rané, the sandwiches packed by mom, was so delicious… I couldn’t get the taste out of my tongue, it just really sticks out…”
“I knew right, Sis. Mom made these sandwiches from the bottom of her heart, it symbolizes her love to us.” Rané replied.
My mom and dad, as usual, they are being lovey-dovey in front of us—they were that sweet ever since.
As the day started to wind down, we packed up our things and made a camping near to the car.
Few days later, on the drive home, I felt a sense of contentment and happiness that I hadn't felt in a while. I realized that spending time with my family was one of the most important things in my life. We may not be perfect, but we were a team, and we always had each other's backs.
When we got home, we were all exhausted from the day's activities. We ordered pizza for dinner and watched a movie together, snuggled up on the couch. As I drifted off to sleep that night, I felt grateful for the love and support of my family. I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would always have each other, and that was the greatest gift of all.
That ends our 3-day summer vacation at the beach. A week has passed and everything went back to normal, on the other hand, my dad went back to his work and my younger sister went back to her school after a long-long vacation.
It was a lazy Monday, and I was feeling a bit bored. I had finished all my chores and there wasn't much to do outside, so I decided to have some fun with myself inside the house.
I went to my room and put on some of my favorite music, turning up the volume and singing along. I started dancing around the room, letting loose and enjoying the beat. It felt liberating to be able to move my body freely without any judgment or self-consciousness. As the music continued to play, I decided to get creative. I grabbed some art supplies and started painting on a canvas. I let my imagination run wild, using bold colors and expressive brushstrokes to create a vibrant piece of art. It was fun to get lost in the process and see where my creativity took me.
After I finished painting, I decided to indulge in some guilty pleasure TV shows. I snuggled up on the couch with some snacks and binge-watched my favorite series. It felt like a guilty pleasure, but it was a great way to relax and escape from the world for a little while. As the day turned into night, I continued to have fun within the house. I played video games, read a book, and even baked some cookies. It was liberating to do things on my own terms, without worrying about anyone else's expectations or opinions. I realized that sometimes, the best way to have fun is to spend time with yourself. It's important to enjoy your own company, to explore your own interests, and to do things that make you happy. And for me, that day spent having fun with myself in the house was the perfect reminder of this.
As I was sitting in my room when I heard my mom calls out for me from upstairs. I went up to her room, expecting to see her watching TV or doing some work on her laptop, but instead, I found her slumped over on the bed, looking pale and tired. I rushed over to her, asking her what was wrong. She told me that she had been feeling unwell for a few days, with a persistent headache and nausea that wouldn't go away. She had tried to ignore it, thinking it was just a bad case of the flu, but now she was starting to worry. I decided to take her to the hospital, just to be safe. I drove her there without anyone knowing. I waited in the emergency room for what felt like hours, watching as doctors and nurses rushed back and forth, attending to patients in critical condition. Finally, a doctor came over to us and asked to speak with my mom alone. My heart sank as I watched her disappear behind the curtain, wondering what could be wrong. When she emerged a few minutes later, her face was white as a sheet.
The doctor told us that my mom had been diagnosed with a serious illness. It was something that would require immediate treatment, and even with that, there was no guarantee that she would recover fully. I felt numb as I listened, unable to process the gravity of the situation.
“Your mom has stage 3 lung cancer, we need an immediate treatment. We should not let this delay any further” the doctor said in a dejected tone.
I became speechless. I do not know what to do.
After two hours, the doctor informed me that my mom was able to be released from the hospital and that if we decided to let her get cured, we can go back anytime, but for now, all we can do is that to go back home as we do not have the money to pay the bills yet.
In the midst of going back home, my mom told me to keep it as a secret and that we should not tell anyone, especially my dad and my younger sister. She says “Lily, honey, please don’t let them know yet, I don’t want them to know yet, just give me the time to ready myself…”
“What? No! We should tell them, how can we get you cured? If we are not about to tell dad? What’s gonna happen next? No mom… please don’t…” I said it in an enraged tone.
“No, honey… Please, I beg you. Not yet…”
“Mom! WHY!?”
I saw my mom cried, it pains me a lot and all I can do is to respect her decision. I cannot fight back.
As we got home, my younger sister was waiting in the living area and embrace mom as we got closer. My dad, who should be at home in this hour, was not seen.
In the very morning, my dad arrived with lots of gift prepared and without any knowledge about what happened to mom yesterday. As usual, I greeted and embraced him “Welcome dad” as I said, he replied “Thank you, Lily. How’s my Rané-honey faring?” My younger sister shouted and said “Daddy! I’m hereeeee, I missssed you” As for me, I went to mom and checked on her. Everything seemed to be okay.
A month has passed with the very same routine, my dad goes to work and my younger sister goes to school and for me, I stayed at home and doing sort of home-work based and also accompanied mom. With that being said, my dad was being unusual as he sometimes never go back to the house and will just said he was busy.
Until one fateful day, it was a Thursday afternoon, I went to the city and bought some stuffs that I needed, there I saw my dad with some gorgeous woman, and I followed them secretly, until I arrived to some apartment. My heart was thumping so hard, afraid to be caught, just when I was about to go back, I saw my dad kissed the woman and I just noticed that woman is pregnant.
I ran as fast as I can, tears in fall. It was so devastating to see my dad with another woman. I cannot fathom as to why he can do that while smiling to us.
The very next day, my dad went home, as usual, bring gifts and smiles to us as if he is not cheating. Not until, my mom discovered something from his bag and it was a used condom with a sperm on it. Says “Ronald! What the hell is this? Explain to me this instant now!”
“Darling, at ease. Calm down, would you?”
“How could I? When I got to see this shit out of your bag?” says in an enraged tone.
“That’s not mine okay? Satisfied?”
“Then why is it inside your bag?”
“Maybe, some crazy person pulled some prank on me?”
“Better that be!”
On the other side, I was nervous and anxious to the point I almost told my mom that I saw dad with another woman yesterday.
“Crazy bastar-! Cheater…” I murmured.
Few days had passed nothing sort happened aside from the misunderstandings that caused my mom and dad quarrel in the middle of the night. Until the very fateful date where my mom is scheduled to have a check-up in the hospital, is also the day where we saw dad with another woman. “Ronald?” my mom said.
My dad stiffens, as he sees my mom in an awe and shock.
“Darling, wait let me explain this” grabs the hand of Mrs. Aboitiz.
“Stop! You don’t have to explain this, I can understand” said in a whimper tone.
I stood like I knew everything, my mom saw how composed I am. “You knew, honey?”
“Yes mom, I knew everything” sheds tear.
“Let’s go home” mom said.
We did not continue the said check-up for my mom, as it was a very long-long tiring and stressing day. As soon as we got home, my mom cried as if there is no tomorrow until she fell asleep without even eating anything.
“Sis, what happened to mom?” Rané said, curiously.
“Mom is just stressed, there’s no need to worry.”
“Then, why is she crying?”
“Some sort of thing happened. You’ll know everything from mom tomorrow”
Until one day, my mom told us that my dad had left us for another woman. My face is twitching, and my blood is boiling.
“How can my dad abandoned us for another woman?” I comforted my mom as she cried. My mom never stops crying all day and all night. But later that evening, mom came over to my room and sat next to me and said,
"Honey, I'm sorry" as she spoke, and she left us confused.
"For what, mom?"
"I am at stage 3 lung cancer."
I was composed, unlike my younger sister, she sobbed and left in the house. She was horrified when she heard what mom said.
My mom left my room, I was thinking, "Is my mom going to die?" If my dad abandoned us, then will my mom do it too? no! I stood up and shouted, "I will take good care of you, mom!" and noticed that our neighbors were sleeping. “Wopsie hehe!”
Weeks have passed and my mom's composure was getting worse, and there I saw her lying in the ground, so I called 911 for an ambulance and take her to the doctor. As I sit and wait on the bench inside the hospital, the doctor calls my name and tells me, "Sorry, young lady, your mother has passed away." I am shocked to hear that, and I wish the world would open and eat me. I cried loudly inside the hospital as I shout, "Mom! Mom! Mom! Please don’t leave us alone, you promised us that you’ll take care of us even without dad"
“Mom! No, I cannot forgive myself if you just passed away like that. You’re so unfair mom! WHY!?” Rané said in a dejected and remorsed tone.
Losing someone I loved has been one of the most stressful and difficult experiences of my life. Since their passing, I've been feeling a constant sense of anxiety and tension that never seems to go away. I attempted to hang myself, thinking that by killing myself, everything will go back to normal and the simplest tasks feel overwhelming, and I struggle to focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time.
I find myself constantly worrying about the future and what it holds without the person I lost. The weight of their absence is always with me, and it's exhausting. Even the things that used to bring me joy feel hollow now.
I try to distract myself with hobbies or spending time with friends, but the sadness is always there, just beneath the surface. It's hard to imagine ever feeling truly happy again.
The stress and grief have taken a toll on my physical health as well. I find myself feeling tired and run down, with a constant knot in my stomach. My sleep is restless, and I wake up feeling exhausted every morning.
Losing my mother has been one of the most difficult experiences of my life, as dad also left us behind. She was my rock, my confidante, and my best friend. We had been through so much together, and I never imagined a life without her. The days since her passing have been a blur. I find myself moving through the motions of life, but everything feels empty and meaningless without her by my side. The house feels too quiet, and I miss the sound of her voice and her laughter. There are moments when the grief hits me like a ton of bricks, and I feel like I can't breathe. I find myself crying uncontrollably, missing her more than words can express. It's hard to imagine a world without her in it. I try to remember the good times, the moments we shared that brought us closer together.
Memories of her smile, her warmth, and her love flood my mind. But even those memories are bittersweet, reminding me of what I've lost. It's hard to know how to move forward without her. She was such a big part of my life, and I feel lost without her guidance and support.
But I know that she would want me to keep going, to continue to live my life and pursue my dreams. So I try to take things day by day, focusing on the small things that bring me joy. I find comfort in the support of my family and friends, in the memories of my mother, and in the knowledge that she will always be with me in spirit.
Losing my mother has been the hardest thing I've ever gone through, but I know that she would want me to be strong. And so I will continue to grieve, to remember, and to honor her memory in all that I do.
Months passed, and I finally moved on as my father left me and my mom passed away. And I started my 4th year of college at the university as an architect. As I walked inside my room, I noticed this handsome and cute guy named Lawrence.
He glanced at me, and my heart started to pound, saying,
"Geezzzzz, is this love at first sight?" He came over and closer his face.
I felt his warm breath, and he said,
"You look so beautiful, like a goddess."
I tried to avoid having feelings to certain someone, as what my dad did to my mom makes me traumatized to the point I am scared to even start a relationship. But then there's someone in my life who brings me joy, even though I'm still dealing with the trauma of my past. They bring lightness and happiness to my life that I didn't know was possible, and I am so grateful for their presence in my life.
When I'm with them, it's like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. They make me laugh and smile, even when I'm feeling down. They listen to me when I need to talk, and they support me through all the ups and downs of life. It's not that they've magically made my trauma disappear, but rather that they have shown me that it's possible to find happiness and joy even in the midst of pain and suffering. They remind me that there is light at the end of the tunnel, and that there is always hope. Their love and support have helped me to heal in ways that I never thought possible. They've shown me that I am worthy of love and happiness, and that I don't have to let my past define me.
They've given me the courage to face my fears and to keep moving forward, one step at a time. I'm still dealing with the aftermath of my trauma, and there are still days when the pain is too much to bear. But having this person in my life gives me the strength to keep going, to keep fighting, and to keep believing that there is a brighter future ahead. They make me happy, even in the midst of my pain, and for that, I will always be grateful.
Then, after that, we started seeing each other at our university and started to hang out. He's such a kind and caring man. Then one day he asked me to become his girlfriend, and I didn't hesitate to say no, so I said yes, because who will resist a handsome man like a Greek god? Then soon as that we graduated as Architecture and we were acquitted in high rating company in our city.
On my mother's birthday, we visited her in her graveyard. That day was the most wonderful and beautiful thing that happened to me because Lawrence proposed, "Lily, will you be my wife?" and I said yes. We, then, asked permission to my mother. My younger sister, Rané, despite being young, she started her small business and lived happily.
Years passed, and our lives are now stable and financially okay, and we have our own twins, Jack and Jill. I cried a little bit as I watched my husband carry my twin on his hand and remembered my own life back then. I whispered to myself that I would take care of my family no matter what happened. Then my husband came over and asked, "Are you okay, love?" I nodded and hugged them very tight.
At the age of 80, we still watch the sunset together with Lawrence, my first love, and I was thinking that if I was not able to overcome my trauma in the past, I would not get into this kind of life. As we watch our children also have their own kin, made us realize how life is too short.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, love” I said.
“Likewise. You are as beautiful as ever, my love” he said in a lovely tone and kisses my forehead.
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