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inkribbon796 · 3 years

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What a Beautiful Wedding Ch. 1: A Sense of Poise and Rationality

Summary: “What a beautiful wedding” says a bridesmaid to a waiter. “And, yes, but what a shame. What a shame . . .

Nothing bad happens here, I promise.

A/N: The music swells, the curtain lifts. Ladies, gentlemen, and all configurations of being: the show has begun . . .

Titles here are from Panic! at the Disco’s “I Write Sins not Tragedies”.

Okay, so this one’s been a bear to write so this might be uploaded a couple chapters today and the rest over the next day or two.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Eric looked at himself in the mirror as Roman set the final touches on his hair. His dark hair had small braids with tiny beads designed to catch the sunlight. His suit was an off-white color and his wrists were decorated with intricate bangles that kept his nerves from activating his powers and setting things on fire.

Despite the suits and dresses and other formal attire all the heroes were still in their masks. Secrecy was still important and they knew the press would be nearby. The only exception would be Eric, who got glasses enchanted, courtesy of the Host, to protect his identity from anyone who shouldn’t know it.

“And voila!” Roman announced and did a little excited jump, spinning the chair marginally and holding up a mirror so that Eric could see the back of his head.

“Awww, you look so cute,” Patton told him.

“R-eally?” Eric ducked his head nervously.

“Positively radiant, my dear,” Roman boasted, his red dress swishing as he twirled. “Not an eye will be able to look away from you.”

Eric’s eyes widened fearfully.

“Nice going Princey,” Virgil spoke up from across the room.

“They’ll look in a good way,” Roman promised. “They’ll see you and realize that you are the most beautiful man in the world.”

“B-ut that’s Illy,” Eric managed to force out.

Roman paused to think on that, “Well I won’t deny that he’s obnoxiously good looking but now you can give him a run for his money.”

Randall walked in, “How we lookin’[1]?”

Twisting around the chair, Roman grinned as he motioned to Eric. “Marvel at this masterpiece. I dare say Da Vinci nor Monet could have done better.”

“Very handsome,” Randall told Eric, both childhood friends smiling at each other. “Just came from checkin’ on the other groom. We’re just waiting fer a final sweep ‘a the area to make sure it’s alright.”[2]

“Alright,” Eric said.

On the other side of the building, Illinois was fiddling with his bow tie as he checked his hair and suit in the mirror.

“How’s it looking?” Illinois asked, his eyes moving to look at his adopted brother in the mirror.

“Nothing is amiss,” the Host told him.

“Marv still isn’t back,” Chase reminded. “I don’t like it. I haven’t heard a peep from him.”

“The Host spoke with Marvin, he is on his way back to the city with the Blade and the Angel of Death,” the Host took a seat. “While they will be late for the ceremony, Illinois and the attendants will find that they will arrive just in time.”

“Okay,” Illinois took a deep breath. He didn’t touch his lucky coin, he wanted today to be a good day. A perfect day.

He’d been trying to play his safe for months to hoard as much magic as possible. No adventures. No fights. Not even a card game with his siblings.

Because Eric deserved nice things. He deserved to be happy and safe.

After a while Dark checked his pocket watch, and Illinois walked out with him and the Host. The blind seer headed on ahead to wait with the other groomsmen.

Dark waited at one end of a long rug that led to a big outdoor gazebo with a dark wood roof. Chairs led up to the gazebo and had wooden structures protecting it from any accidental rain or glare from the sun. A matching rug was one that Randall would lead Eric down. The two grooms would meet in the middle and then walk up to the altar where Jackie, who had taken the online classes needed to officiate marriages.

The Entity paused, waiting for the signal from the organ that Dark could start walking. But he looked over at Illinois. The young man was looking around, his hand reaching into his pocket and resisted trying to pull out his lucky coin.

In the demon’s mind he thought of little Illinois, barely at chest level, with wide eyes that hungered for adventure but a body too small to take him there.

Dark had never liked thinking about how big Illinois had gotten. It reminded him that Illinois would walk out of his life and become his own person. It’s just . . . it had all been so wonderful while it lasted.

Illinois looked over at Dark and smiled. “Hey, 아빠[3].”

“Illinois,” Dark answered, trying to keep Damien quiet and invisible. Dark had to keep his hands to himself and his feelings out of the way. This was all for Illinois. He took a second to take a deep breath and schooled his features. “I’ll have your portion of the city ready for when you get back.”

“What?” Illinois asked, mostly in confusion.

But then the music began and Dark was offering his elbow. Illinois took it and promised himself that when he could pull Dark away again they’d talk. He didn’t like the tone Dark had taken when he’d said that.

Illinois and Dark stepped in time to the music and all too soon he saw Eric, his hands gripping onto Randall’s arm. He almost tripped when his eyes met Illinois’s.

Then all too soon, they were within arms reach. Illinois reached out to take Eric’s arm and they walked up. To Illinois, Eric looked like an angel he’d somehow snagged out of the sky and convinced to stay with him.

They walked down the aisle and Illinois kept the pace slow so that Eric wouldn’t have a single problem walking down the aisle. Dark and Randall followed them up.

Everything was going perfectly.

Illinois and Eric were looking at each other and Jackie opened his mouth to start the ceremony, when someone else walked down the aisle.

“I’m here!” Someone in a red tux announced. A smile as sharp as glass. “Shame on you, Damien, I almost missed the whole thing.”

Everyone immediately looked at the Actor, Dark got in front of Illinois as the young man was trying to push Eric towards Jackie.

“Get out,” Dark snarled in a furious growl.

“You’d done your job, step aside,” Actor snapped out a dark mass of aura and batted Dark to the side, the Entity slamming into the organ and let out a pained cough.

“아빠!”[3] Illinois called out. Yancy, who was closer, immediately raced to Dark’s side but the Entity shoved him away from both him and the Actor.

“I will admit,” Marc smiled as he waltzed down the aisle, “I didn’t recognize you at first. That’s my bad. But I did try and talk to you, and it’s quite an oversight not to personally invite me.”

Dark pushed himself back up to a kneeling position, his ringing shrill and aura coiling around.

“I didn’t invite you because you’re a piece of shit and you just attacked my dad, so fuck off,” Illinois snarled. He started trying to move over to Dark but the Actor slid into his path.

“Not possible,” Actor smiled, gesturing to himself. “Daddy’s here now and we don’t need . . .”

Actor glared back at Dark, “. . . to be worried about extraneous characters.”

“Get the hell out of here, I don’t want you anywhere near my family,” Illinois snarled.

“Oh, junior,” Marc smiled. “I’m trying to help you. Think of it: father and son. We’d take the world by storm.”

Illinois felt fury, thinking off all the foster homes and awful situations he’d been in, “Even if you were, you can fuck right the fuck off!”

Behind the Actor, Ranboo was trying to inch closer to Dark. He’d been sitting with the rest of the heroes. But he was trying to quietly summon up a portal to get Dark away from the Actor but when he inched too close the Actor spun around and slammed his aura into the young teen, knocking him back.

“If I wanted to take on the peanut gallery, I would have called you up,” Actor snapped.

“Enderwalk!” Virgil called out and raced over to him as the teen slammed against the wall of the gazebo and let out a grunt of pain. Immediately the room seemed to snap out of whatever haze they were in and moved as Marc moved to attack Ranboo again. Tubbo was already the closest.

Ranboo braced for the attack to hit but in the nick of time, there was a shattering of glass and Techno emerged from one of the eye portals. Shield and axe in hand he deflected the shot and blew a hole in the roof of the gazebo.

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there,” Techno smiled. “Come on, kid, I saw you using a weapon before, come on.”

“Boo,” Tubbo moved in as Phil and Marvin raced in.

“Anyone dead yet?” Marvin demanded.

“Bout time yeh showed up,”[4] Chase spat, pulled out his gun, a real one and aimed it at the Actor’s head.

Snarling in anger, the Actor exploded into black mist, making Chase miss his shot and nicked Illinois right in the face by accident.

Actor grabbed Dark and stabbed him with a dragged he pulled out of his black mist. “I don’t like being teased, Dames.”

With a slice, Dark screamed and the Actor pulled out a black day planner. “If you want something done right you should just do it yourself.”

Magic began to swirl around the Actor as bubbles began to form. They swelled in size and began to fill the room.

Bing began to visibly freak out and used his nanites to push Mini and Oliver away with his nanites, throwing them outside the gazebo just as a bubble expanded to snap up the rest of the androids.

In an instant the city rumbled and Dark . . .

. . . . . .

Dark woke up in bed.

He glared at the faintly glowing clock on the distant wall. It was barely a half-hour before he had to get up so there was no point in going back to sleep.

He smiled faintly when he heard Wilford snoring, the man splayed out to Dark’s left. The softer snores were from Chase who was cuddled up into Dark’s chest.

With a smile softening his features Dark decided: maybe he could sleep in a few more minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post A/N: . . . Okay I lied big time.

Accessibility Translations:

1. looking

2. Just came from checking on the other groom. We’re just waiting for a final sweep of the area to make sure it’s alright

3. Dad. Informal, read phonetically as: Appa.

4. About time you showed up

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #footnotes #eric derekson #illinois the adventurer #ahwm illinois #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #Darkiplier #randall voorhees #actor Mark #Actor Mark is an absolute diva #Ranboo #Ranboo being brave #magic #Ericilly #weddings are great

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luverofralts · 3 years

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Post Arkhelios

She had put on a positive face for Abe, but internally Ulyssa was extremely conflicted about her feelings for Roman. She knew that he legitimately cared about Abe, but also knew how self absorbed Roman could be. It was the Bellamy way to act like they were above everyone else and Roman had learned a lot from his grandfather. It seemed like Abe was the only person able to cut through the Bellamy brainwashing and get Roman to feel. In the corner of her mind, Ulyssa wondered how Roman would have treated the situation if she had gotten pregnant from their brief affair or if he’d ever been able to seduce her idiot brother. Probably even worse than this, if she was being honest with herself.

Her feelings towards Roman were always in flux because of the huge wall that he put up between him and the world. She was never sure if she actually liked Roman or was attracted to him, or felt pity for him, or if she secretly enjoyed their little arguments. Maybe Abe could help bring that wall down permanently one day, or at the very least, keep Roman from pissing people off so frequently.

Ulyssa left an hour later, after making sure Abe was in an okay place about his boyfriend. If she wasn’t sure about her feelings about Roman, she at least was starting to see Abe and Lucy as friends because of all of this. In a place like Arkhelios, teen friendships seemed to be rare, and however this all ended, Ulyssa was glad that she had gotten to better know the Chuns. Between this secret, and their parents running off together, she knew that if she needed support, she could actually find some back in Arkhelios.

Abe had gone to bed immediately after Ulyssa left, if only to have some time for himself away from Lucy’s over protectiveness. His mind was swirling with thoughts and feelings that he needed to process by himself without her open anger at Roman. To be honest though, he was starting to feel influenced by her remarks. Maybe Roman wasn’t coming back after all. Maybe he would return to school, and only see his family over school breaks.

An even worse feeling came over him suddenly. What if he brought home someone else from Pleasantview? Even if it had been arranged by his grandfather without Roman’s input, Abe wasn’t sure that he could live in an Arkhelios where Roman was engaged to some rich sim and forgot about all about him. He knew Lucy thought about this possibility all the time, and it had been Roman’s mission to bring new people here by any means necessary....

Abe buried his head in his pillow and groaned. This was a line of thought for tomorrow, when he didn’t feel so hopeless.

His bedroom door squeaked open, and Abe figured that it was just Lucy checking on him again. He turned on his side and pretended to be asleep, so she wouldn’t stay to make even more pitying remarks about Roman’s intentions.

“Abe? Are you awake?”

Abe bolted up quickly in his bed. He’d know that voice anywhere!

“Roman! You’re here! I can’t believe it!”

Against all odds, Roman was actually standing in Abe’s bedroom. Unless this was some kind of magical hallucination or trick, Abe had been right about Roman’s feelings for him.

Roman looked awkwardly at his feet.

“....Hi. How are you?” Roman cursed himself internally for being so awkward. It was just Abe after all. Still, it felt weird to talk to him now without bringing up the elephant in the room.

“Lucy was convinced that you were half-way to Veronaville by now.”

Roman flushed furiously. Neither teen moved for fear of spooking the other one. Abe could feel the tension in the room like it was physically pressing on him.

“I just needed some time,” Roman said. “I shouldn’t have run...but I’m here now. I want to be there for you...if you still want me to be.”

The tension began to ease. Abe quickly crossed the distance between them and grabbed Roman’s hands, placing them on his ever expanding stomach.

“Of course I still want you here!” he said fiercely. “It’s all I’ve been wanting since I found out about this...situation.”

The two teens sat on the floor and looked at the ground. Neither one seemed to know what to say. Roman reached for Abe’s hand, which caused Abe to jump and Roman quickly withdrew his own hand. Touching each other was what had caused this situation in the first place, and Abe still had Lucy’s warnings ringing in his head. Maybe if Roman had come immediately things would have been fine, but Abe had been freaking out alone for days now, and there was still awkwardness between them. Roman cleared his throat.

“H-how have things been?”

“The morning sickness has gotten a lot better, thank god,” Abe replied, and Roman nodded sympathetically.

“That sounds rough.” He made and held eye contact with Abe. “I’m sorry that I took so long to get here. I...I’m sorry that I put you in this position to start with. I never intended for this to happen.”

Abe reached for his hand without hesitation this time.

“I know,” he said. “Neither did I. It’s been kind of a roller coaster of feelings the past few days.”

“My uncle Hunter is adopted,” Roman blurted out suddenly. “His dad was Launce Durant, and my grandparents adopted him.”

Abe realized where this conversation was heading, and he was glad that Roman brought it up first. He had heard the Durants talking about their long lost half-brother before, and everyone wondered who Hunter’s other parent had been. Abe’s mom used to date Launce, but everyone knew how Launce’s life had spiraled out of control when his brother Benvolio died. Any one could be Hunter’s mother or father. Elaine had certainly not commented on Hunter’s origins, and Abe figured that if he had a half-brother out there, she would have probably mentioned it by now.

“When I worked at the orphanage, the kids seemed pretty happy,” Roman continued, playing absentmindedly with his shoelaces. “Some of them got adopted really quickly. I don’t think anyone here would know if...if we went there.”

Tears were starting to well up for both teens. Abe nodded and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah, no one would know,” he repeated sadly. “Maybe that’s best. Hunter seems really happy, and Launce sees him all the time now.”

Abe crawled back into his bed, and Roman mindlessly followed. Abe wrapped himself around Roman and tried not to cry.

“Roman? I don’t want to be like Launce,” he whispered. “Stay with me? We can figure this out together. What’s the difference of our families finding out about us now instead of when we’re in college? It’s only a few years.”

Roman froze momentarily, remembering his grandfather’s anger at the idea of him even talking to the Chuns, and the disappointment of his grandmother for not heeding her warnings about him following his hormones. He thought of how intensely Elaine watched him while he was near Abe, and what Lucy and Ulyssa surely thought of him by now.

He pulled Abe in closer to him.

“Okay,” he vowed. “We’ll do this together. Who cares about who knows.”

Elaine left for work early in the morning, blissfully unaware of the teenage drama brewing in her house. Oriana had pressing business at the bank for Abraham’s estate, and hitched a ride downtown with her wife, leaving the house in Ironman’s control. He had been acting a little dodgy lately when she talked about the kids, but she chalked it up to him readjusting to having Elaine back in his life, and getting to know the kids he had never seen because of Elaine and Abraham’s fighting.

Ironman purposely started his house cleaning away from the noisy kitchen, where he could hear Lucy shouting. Better to have plausible deniability and not check into that, he decided. He wasn’t sure to what extent his programming would allow him to keep information from his partner, so knowing nothing was probably the safer route. He felt that Oriana and Elaine would have more compassion than Abraham had shown for Elaine all those years ago, but he didn’t want to risk history repeating itself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lucy was shouting presumably at some one who didn’t normally live there, and was therefore a part of this messy situation. Ironman made himself scarce before he found out more.

Jorah had come over to walk to school with Lucy like he usually did, and was currently holding her back from attacking Roman.

“It’s romantic, he sighed dreamily. “Two people from fighting families falling in love and running off to start a life together....”

Finding Roman making pancakes for her brother was the last thing Lucy had expected to see that morning. The fact that they were acting so weirdly in love, and holding each other like they had planned this whole mess...It was impossible to stomach. Roman abandoned Abe for days and now here he was making a mess of the kitchen and spouting off syrupy declarations of love to her idiot brother.

“Jorah you can’t be buying this,” she groaned. “This is ridiculous! This isn’t a Veronaville soap opera, it’s real life and you two are about to ruin both of yours. Don’t let Roman drag you down like this Abe. He may have hit rock bottom, but you still have a future!”

“I haven’t hit rock bottom,” Roman corrected while flipping pancakes. “Dropping out of school means that I have time to be a dad now, and I can make breakfast for Abe every day.”

“Dropping out? You are being expelled,” Lucy corrected angrily. “And you have no money, no job and now no education. Where are you going to live? How are you going to pay for things like diapers and you know, basic things like food?”

Abe poked at his pancakes nervously.

“Well, Mom might let us stay,” he said. “Or the Bellamys. I’m sure they’d understand, and want to help raise their grandkid.”

“You think Mom is going to let Roman Bellamy live in our house? You think the Bellamys won’t just kick you to the curb? Look at how they’ve treated Adam his whole life. Look at how they’re treating him and Omar now!”

“But this would be different,” Abe protested. “Our families could come together now and be happy. Romeo and Juliet’s love always ends the fighting in the stories.”

Lucy just stared at her brother, unable to comprehend his line of thinking.

“No, you know what brings Romeo and Juliet’s families together? Death and lots of it.” She pointed at Abe with intensity. “If you decide to bring this idiot to Mom or walk into Salem Bellamy’s house with a baby, that’s all you will get too. If you are really serious about ruining your life, then go anywhere but here with Roman. Go to Pleasantview. Go live out your stupid fantasy in Veronaville. Just leave before you become yet another unsolved murder here.”

Lucy stood up dramatically, dragging an open mouthed Jorah with her.

“Some of us still have school to attend.”

#ts2 #sims 2 #arkhelios #post arkhelios #Roman Bellamy #Abe chun #lucy chun #sorry for the novel #minor arkhelios spoilers #sims 2 pictures

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mydekuacademia · 4 years

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Isn’t It Lovely?

Moving into the dorms seemed like a dream come true for (y/n). They could finally live free from their bleak home life, or so they thought. A Todoroki x reader fic loosely inspired by Lovely by Billie Eilish

Warnings: inappropriate touching, abuse, sucky parents, overall angst, cussing. Please, please don’t read if any of this could be triggering to you!!!!

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Howdy! Yet another unrequested fic I’m writing instead of emptying out my inbox (don’t worry, i’ll get to those too!!)

Going to UA was the greatest accomplishment of your life. You had spent years honing your skills in your quirk usage and general hand-to-hand combat - you were good. You’d made it into class 1A without issue, comfortably situated among the top in the class, but not so showy as to appear overconfident. It wasn’t long before you caught the eye of the son of the #2 hero - Todoroki Shouto.

It wasn’t until your fellow classmate, Midoriya Izuku, broke through Todoroki’s walls that the stoic boy began opening up to you. Within a few weeks of your friendship, he told you about his home life - the story behind his scar, the loss of his oldest brother, the intense training sessions. As you held his shaking form close, you realized just how important he was to you. You wanted him to be able to tell you anything, and you wanted to tell him everything too.

But you couldn’t. Not when he already had so much on his plate.

Soon after Todoroki, Midoriya, and Iida battled Hero Killer Stain, you decided you had to tell Todoroki how you felt. Your high school career was obviously going to be much more dangerous than anticipated, so who knew how much longer you’d have to say something? Much to your surprise, after a moment of tense silence, he muttered that he returned your feelings, a light blush coloring his cheeks. Thus started the best relationship of your life.

The events of the year didn’t make your relationship easy. It seemed like one of you was always injured or training, but you did your best to make time for each other. Just when you began to get tired of being pulled fifty different ways, the dorms were implemented.

Your parents were none too happy about you moving out at such a young age, but Aizawa managed to convince them it was for your own safety. You didn’t know how to tell your teacher that your adamant agreement was for reasons other than villain attacks.

You were overjoyed to find out that your dorm was on the same floor as Shouto’s; finally, you could have more time together! You dreamed of study dates in the common room, movie marathons in your dorms, quiet mornings before your classmates woke up and calm evenings after they went to sleep. You could calm him down when he woke up from nightmares, and maybe you could finally tell him everything you hadn’t gathered the courage to before. Maybe you could actually work up the nerve to let yourself be weak in front of him.

Unfortunately, life had other plans for you.

The day you were set to move in, your mother got called in to work unexpectedly, meaning she would be unable to help you bring your belongings to the dorms. That meant your father would have to help you instead. When you found out, your breath caught in your throat - this was exactly what you were trying to avoid. You never wanted him to know which building was yours, let alone which room. There was nothing you could do now though.

You walked into the common room of the 1A Heights Alliance, arms loaded with boxes and head lowered. You almost made it to the staircase when a soothing voice spoke from behind you.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” Shouto asked. You instantly dropped your boxes and hugged him around the waist, burying your face in his collarbone.

“It’s nothing, Shouto. The move is just stressful, you know?”

He hummed in response, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing the top of your head. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can carry some of those boxes.”

You shook your head and pulled away just enough to kiss his cheek. “They’re not heavy. Thank you though.” The moment was broken by a honeyed voice coming from behind you.

“Who’s this, (y/n)? A friend of yours?”

Your face instantly hardened, and you pulled away from Shouto and stiffly lifted your boxes from the floor. “Do you have my stuff?” you asked with a steely tone.

“Of course! Lead the way.”

You were about to open the door to the stairs when Shouto spoke up again, quieter this time. “Who is this, (y/n)?”

You barely glanced up to meet his eyes. “My father.”

He stood a few inches taller than you, with an athletic build and domineering presence. You had his nose and mouth, but not much else to give away your relation.

“I’ll see you later, Shou.” With that, you entered the stairwell and began the trek up to the fifth floor, your father trailing behind you.

“Was that young man Endeavor’s son?” your father asked innocently.

“Yes.”

“Todoroki Shouto, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what is your relationship with him?”

You exited the stairwell and walked to your door. Your father grew irritated.

“(Y/n), I asked you a question.”

You continued ignoring him and opened the door to your new room, which was disconcertingly bare. You hadn’t gotten two steps in when you heard the door slam shut behind you and felt yourself being spun around. Your boxes hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Are you dating him?” your father growled.

Now, this didn’t phase you terribly. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a rare occurrence at home. This was what you never wanted Shouto to know about. Your father was just as bad as his.

“I paid for years of the best training there is, I got you into the prestigious UA, and this is how you repay me? By whoring yourself out to the first pretty boy you see?” His volume was rising with each word.

“Father, please, we’re in public,” you mumbled.

A vein bulged in his temple. “You don’t get to tell me what to do! I’m your father!” With that, he brought a hand up and slapped you with every ounce of his strength. Your head snapped to the side, and you fell to the floor, landing on a small box and badly bruising your side and hip.

With a small whimper, you begged your father to stop. “Please, someone could hear. Please, stop.”

He dropped to his knees next to you and tugged your shirt up just enough to reveal the waistband of your pants, eyes crazed. “Maybe if I tighten your belt, that boy won’t be trying to take your pants off.”

Your eyes widened dramatically, hardly seeing anymore due to your panic and pain. “Dad, stop! Please! What the hell are you doing?”

Before he could make any more to follow up on his statement, your door burst open, revealing one very angry Torodoki Shouto. Frost climbed up his right hand, and sparks danced on the fingers of his left hand. “Get your fucking hands off them, right now.”

“Ah, if it isn’t the pretty boy himself. Come to use my pathetic child?” your father replied, undeterred by the furious glint in Shouto’s eyes.

Ignoring your father’s words, Shouto swung his right arm in front of him, sending a wave of ice at your father and freezing him to the wall, leaving his head uncovered. He then dropped to his knees next to you and helped you into a sitting position, arm behind your back and other hand on your shoulder.

“Aizawa is on his way. I told him your father was acting suspicious,” Shouto said quietly. “He’s not going anywhere for the time being. Let’s go, okay?”

You silently nodded and allowed him to help you to your feet. Aizawa made it to your room just as you limped out.

“(Y/n)? Are you limping?” Aizawa asked lowly. You nodded and stared at your feet. “Where is he?” he asked in a growl.

“I froze him to the wall. I walked in on him hurting (y/n),” Shouto explained tightly. “I’m taking them to my room. You can find us there when you’re done.” Aizawa must have nodded, because Shouto placed an arm around your shoulders and led you to his room. When you got situated on his futon, he grabbed your hand and lifted your chin so you were eye to eye.

“How long has this been going on?”

You shrugged. “A while, I guess. Few years.”

Shouto’s eyes widened for a moment, before narrowing a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped get you out.” His pained tone made your heart ache.

“You had enough to deal with as it was. You didn’t need this too,” you whispered.

“I would have done it for you, though. Anything for you.”

You leaned into his side and buried your face in his neck. “I was going to tell you after we got settled into our dorms. I thought this would be my way out, that maybe I could move on. But he- he never goes away. I hoped to actually make it out someday, but I guess I just got my hopes up. I guess I’ll never actually be free, huh?” You chuckled bitterly.

“You can be free with me,” Shouto whispered. “I’ll keep you safe, always. He’ll never get near you again as long as I’m around.” He lifted your chin and placed a light kiss on your lips. “Stay here with me for a while, okay? I’m sure Aizawa won’t mind. And if he does, screw him.” He wrapped his arms securely around you and pulled you into a tight hug. “Welcome home, (y/n).”

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #tw abuse

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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The MILFnevka AU

Once again something that was brainstormed en masse on the GG fanworks server.

I was... very much spearheading this one, but I dragged in @professorsparklepants for a lot, because Anevka, as well as input from @fenerismoon, @purronronner, @gelpenss, and @whirlibird. The original conversation took place mid-September of 2019.

AU where Tarvek's side of the family squeezed in an extra generation or so.

Aaronev was still Lu's generation, but he had Anevka young, and she was an only child who was already an adult by the time Lu disappeared. As a result, Aaronev let her married before she ended up in the machine (because he wasn’t desperate yet), and he couldn't risk drawing the attention by the time Agatha’s gen is being born.

So instead of being Tarvek's SISTER, she's his MOM.

Anevka formed her own faction, separate from the Aaronev and vaguely aligned with Terabithia’s.

She insisted Martellus and his branch hang out with Tarvek because being an only child is lonely, and also it keeps Tarvek out of his grandfather's sights and vague plans of body-hopping.

She is a Protective Momma who is a little TOO down with murdering anyone who threatens her child.

Agatha: you're just going to listen to your evil mom? Because no offense but that's worked out really bad for me so far. Tarvek: She's not EVIL, just... Valois... anyway the Baron knows what she's like and mostly he just rolls his eyes and tries to keep her away from Queen DuPree.

Anevka is definitely the mom that uses her position as mother of the king/heir to stockpile as much power as possible and control everything behind the scenes. Tarvek is currently trying to undermine this and wrestle back control as secretly as possible.

Wine mom with eighty hidden stabbing implements.

When Agatha is discovered, Anevka still kills her dad, but it's not like she can steal Agatha's voice in this AU, so she just settles for aggressively matchmaking her with Tarvek.

Anevka's managed to rein her dad in, mostly, because she's a powerful spark with an Undefined Husband who nonetheless has enough good connections to cause a ruckus if he finds out about the Summoning Throne, and he's too sparky to wasp.

This did lead to his early death and no siblings for Tarvek, but not before Anevka managed to fight her dad down to ONLY trying to throne the girls who were legitimately likely to be Agatha.

And then Agatha's in Sturmhalten and Anevka's just like. Well. Time for plan A. And kills her dad.

Regarding Gil... She kinda wants to pat him on the head and tell him to try harder.

I'm not wholly convinced Tarvek got kicked off of Castle Wulfenbach, depending on how Anevka married and decided to approach things. She might have warned Tarvek to AVOID stealing information, even, if she was worried about Aaronev trying to do something.

Less "do whatever you can to help us gain power" and more "do whatever you can to stay out of Sturmhalten."

Tarvek: My mom is a bitch and I love her so much

Klaus hates it when Anevka comes to CW because she acts like some unholy cross between Lucrezia, Terabithia, and Zantabraxus and she keeps hitting on his top enforcers but with knives and pretty dresses.

Unstoppable Divorce energies

Anevka: Do you like my new dress? Klaus: Your bodice is far too low cut, please stop visiting me dressed like my ex. I'm the same age as your father. Anevka: I know, it's really fun to watch you suffer as you fail to resist the urge to tell me to put on a sweater.

Tarvek: MOTHER YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME IN FRONT OF ALL MY FRIENDS PLEASE STOP HITTING ON THE BARON AURGH. Anevka: I'm not HITTING on him, I'm trying to make his face turn puce. Anevka: I am, however, hitting on Von Pinn. She looks like she knows how to have fun. Tarvek: MOTHER.

Tarvek, to Gil: the baron can't be your dad, he's old enough to be your grandfather. Gil: He’s at a solid age for both.

Anevka and Klaus have zero actual attraction to each other but there's definitely A Dynamic that's eerily reminiscent of his relationship with Bang, with slightly less "I did a violence, be proud of me" and slightly more "I did a sexy and/or politics, be proud of me."

Tarvek: I have a problem. Gil: What's up? Tarvek: All of our friends want to fuck my mom. Zulenna: I don't. Tarvek: That's because she used to put you in time-out when we were five.

Anevka is prime Dangerous Widow material. She didn't actually kill her husband but a hell of a lot of people think she did.

Seffie thinks her Auntie 'Nevka is the COOLEST

Anevka having an intermittent fling with that "darlingly stupid young hero, Tryggvassen" makes me laugh way too hard and also dips into my nonsense love of Otharnevka.

At one point we did sidle over into “what if Single Father KB tho”

Like they met at some point on vacation while the kids were still kids, which does lose us the “Anevka aggressively ships her kid with Agatha” thing, so I’m not sticking with this but there’s some hella fun tidbits.

Anevka: Guess what. Klaus, very tired: What. Anevka: I'm getting married. Klaus: Again? Good for you. I hope this one lives longer. Anevka: He has the same name as you. Klaus: Get out of my house.

KB isn't a widower, things are just complicated and everyone blames Lu. There's time travel involved, of course.

"So your daughter--" "Sister." "...how--" "Just... just blame my mother."

He's LEGALLY Agatha's dad, maybe? Their dynamic is parent-child. Just, you know, as far as blood goes...

Anevka wants KB to help her bag Othar again. KB thinks she means finally killing him. Anevka: I might. Haven't decided yet.

Overall, though, including KB is too complicated without undermining the entire premise I want. Which is mostly canon but Anevka is Tarvek's embarrassing, mysterious, prone-to-assassination mother.

Seriously though, the entire attraction here is Anevka having the Dangerous Widow Whom No Man Can Tie Down vibe

She's a solo act. Some flings, sure, but overall? Chaos. Refined, elegant chaos.

Anevka as Bang’s sugar mom was suggested. We were obviously all on board.

Bang doesn’t need a sugar mom, but it makes the vein in Klaus's forehead throb, and that's very important.

Bang absolutely tries to get Tarvek to call her “mom” while she’s ‘dating’ Anevka. One time he does call her that and it throws her for SUCH A LOOP because no wrong.

Anevka occasionally daydreams of a world where she could have both Othar and Bang at the same time without them IMMEDIATELY trying to kill each other. Only occasionally, though, she has evidence to plant and blood to spill.

BACK TO ANEVKA SHIPPING HER KID WITH HIS POLITICALLY-APPROPRIATE CRUSH.

Anevka: Oh look, my future daughter-in-law. Tarvek, tired: Mother, she doesn't like me. Anevka: Whyever not? You're clever, handsome, politically apt, charming, sensitive, heir to a throne, you are EVERYTHING a maiden could wish for. Tarvek: You just think that because you're my mom. Agatha: No, no, she's not wrong. You're just not someone I trust. At all. Especially since you say you've been a honeypot before. Anevka: See? A simple hurdle, dear, I'm sure you could whip him into shape in no time. I could even loan you the whip. And the harness, perh-- Tarvek: MOTHER.

Anevka sends Tarvek out with Othar for “field trips.”

It’s great!! Multi-purpose! Absolutely helps boost Tarvek’s image if he’s associated with Known Hero, gets Othar out of her hair for a little bit, sometimes he can be pointed in a direction that’s useful to her.

Othar refers to this outings as “stepfather-stepson bonding times.” Tarvek absolutely hates it. Detests it, really.

Somehow something goes wrong and like 50% of the time and he ends up getting accused of murder, probably.

It’s so unfair. Especially since of the two of them, Othar is more likely to murder than him. (It’s because everyone knows what those Valois types are like, and Othar is a hero.)

Gil: What's so embarrassing about your mom? Your mom's nice. (To me.)

She gives him head pats and lollipops. His own dad certainly never gives him head pats OR lollipops.

Anevka: Well I WAS going to push him towards dear little Seffie, but he seems to be quite enamored with YOU, darling. Tarvek: Mother, PLEASE stop getting invested in my love life.

Anevka’s job is to meddle, he’s lucky she isn’t drawing up contracts and going Full Arrangement.

I also love the idea of Anevka having one of those "sunshine embodied anime mom" smiles as she says "Oh Tarvek, dear, look at all your little friends!"

She's genuinely enthused but Klaus is heavily disturbed by Anevka smiling like that.

"Is she going to sacrifice them?" "Uh, no, it isn't Sunday."

Human sacrifice is actually garish and passe these days, haven’t you heard?

Just imagining one of those Stately Child and Parent portraits with Anevka and Tarvek here.

When Tarvek was born, Anevka has an "I've only had my son for an hour and a half" moment... and then just shrugged and rolled with it.

Anevka "Hot Mom" Sturmvoraus is one of the MANY banes of Klaus's existence, but she's definitely one of the friendliest on the list... as much as he may resent that, at times.

Anevka: Is the Baron in? Boris: Actually... [Crashing noise] Boris: He just left. Anevka, pulling on the rocket boots she stole from Othar and heading towards the broken window leading to the outside of the ship: That's alright, I'll catch up.

(I love how Anevka's name just lends itself so well to AU portmanteaus.)

Anevka definitely susses out Gil's identity but she doesn't actually DO anything about it other than angling for Useful Connections.

She's always telling Tarvek to bring his friend along, and Klaus doesn't want Gil anywhere near that family but he doesn't want it to look like he has any particular interest in Gil.

Imagine Klaus actually encouraging Gil to persue Agatha with the idea that it will put some distance between Gil and "that damn woman and her spawn." Anevka for her part is pushing Agatha towards Tarvek. Meanwhile the three of them are working it out between themselves.

She just has This Energy, folks:

Tarvek: Oh no. Theo: Whats the matter? That's your mom, right? Tarvek: Oh NO, she's wearing her 'NEWLY WIDOWED BUT OUT ON THE PROWL' OUTFIT Theo: ????? She hasn’t been widowed- Tarvek: SHES AFTER THE BARON AND I'M GOING TO DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT, THEO

The one thing here is that Anevka's not into Klaus and he's not into her but by GOD is she going to fuck with his head about it.

She’s just doing this for the Big Dick Energy of trying to Get Baron Wulfenbach.

Embarrassing mom of the deadliest degree.

Tarvek: YOU’RE GOING TO RUIN MY LIFE. Anevka: Don't be so dramatic, let your mother have a bit of fun. Besides, he's not expelling you anymore, is he? Tarvek: I almost wish he was-

Also Gil and Tarvek reconciling early on due to the immense power of being Embarrassed By Your Parents.

Anevka and Klaus getting increasingly bitchy at each other at dinner, and Tarvek and Gil are just. Bright red and glowering at them.

They’re DESTROYING their COOL TEEN CRED.

Tarvek doesn't ever wants to marry a woman who has been married before, not because of some weird distaste of so-called "sloppy seconds," but rather that he's just scared that they're going to be like his mom, and planning to kill him for his money.

Tarvek, waking up in the middle of the night: What if they really do get married and I have to have Gil as a stepbrother. Tarvek: (screams internally for a few hours)

Anevka is also that Sailor J contouring video

While Otharnevka is... this thing

Some more relevant Vibes: Divorce Court Half-Mourning Upper East Side Widow

Everyone always assumed she had murdered her husband. It was a natural assumption, but ultimately wrong. She had had plans in place to kill him if the need arose, but in the end she hadn’t needed them.

Most people grossly underestimated how complicated it was to arrange for someone to be t-boned by a semi carrying flammable chemicals.

Othar as Anevka's second trophy husband and Tarvek's annoying stepdad has a very specific energy.

That energy is at least 20% "the lovebirds take anniversary honeymoons every year" and 60% "Tarvek hates being in the room with them because they're gross and embarrassing."

This is partly fun because Othar being Tarvek’s stepdad is... a lot.

But honestly, I'm also just enjoying cougar Anevka with Trophy Husband Othar. They're actually in love!!! BUT. Cougar with a trophy husband.

Anevka makes sly comments about Othar and Klaus having sexual tension.

Also I have headcanons about NB Tarvek and like

I think she'd be supportive up until the point of "you want to be Storm King, don't you?"

Less "this isn't natural and you shouldn't be this way" and more "this is going to cause you trouble due to social norms."

"Keep it under wraps until your throne is secure, then you can come out in a blaze of glory." No dresses in public until you're king, then do whatever you want. After all, “Your Majesty” is gender neutral.

Anevka caught Tarvek playing dressup in her closet one time and just criticized the color relationships.

And you must try to avoid wearing that particular shade at all, my dear, it really doesn't look imperial.

#Anevka Sturmvoraus #Girl Genius #Tarvek Sturmvoraus #Klaus Wulfenbach #Gilgamesh Wulfenbach #Othar Tryggvassen #Agatha Heterodyne #Otharnevka #GG OT3 #Phoenix Posts

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Interview with a Ghost (part 4: Strange)

Sort of a tenuous connection to the prompt. Oh, well.

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

They had asked the Fenton parents for an interview with Daniel Fenton to ask him about things he might have seen at school. They had agreed, heartily, but had insisted on staying because 'the kids are a little biased towards Phantom, teens, you know,' and they wanted to keep the record straight.

The other two children had, with extreme reluctance, gone home. His sister, however, had refused to leave, saying that she knew just as much about things at the school as Danny, and they might as well question her at the same time. Collins couldn't really argue with that, and he had elbowed Paterson when she tried.

Daniel looked very small and meek against the large armchair he was perched on. Nothing at all like Phantom, who projected personality and confidence even when nervous.

Collins could see how he had gotten away with... whatever he had gotten away with... for so long. He still wasn't entirely convinced that Fenton was Phantom. It seemed pretty incredible, and there wasn't any physical evidence. Especially with the body gone.

Paterson took out a pad of paper and a recorder. "Do you mind if I record this?" she asked. "For record keeping purposes."

"Not at all!" said Jack, grinning. "We're glad to be of help!"

Daniel looked at the recorder as if he thought he'd be ill. He looked pale. Almost green. Was that because he was a ghost, or was he really just that nervous?

"Alright," said Collins. "Do you see Phantom around Casper High?"

"Not really," said Daniel.

"Everyone does," said Jasmine.

The siblings glanced at each other.

"I try to stay away from the ghost fights," said Daniel, shrugging.

"Yes. Your classmates seem to think that you have some kind of sixth sense, as you always leave class right before an attack."

Daniel's eyebrows pinched together in genuine confusion. "They think what?" He shook his head. "I just leave when I need to go," he said.

Paterson looked up from her notepad. "Go as in...?"

"You know, go," said Daniel, a blush dusting his features with pink.

"I see," said Paterson. Daniel blushed harder.

"Have you ever spoken to Phantom?" asked Collins.

"Yes," said Jasmine, crisply, to murmurs of disapproval from her parents. "He saved me from from Spectra. The ghost who masqueraded as a psychologist."

"I remember that," said Paterson. "Old Elroy had that case." It was from before the existence of ghosts had been widely accepted, even in Amity Park. "You were one of her victims?"

"I'm the one she tried to blow up."

"Ah," said Collins. "And what did you talk about?"

"With Spectra?"

"With Phantom."

"Nothing much," said Jasmine. "Not that I remember, anyway. It was over a year ago."

"Try to remember," said Collins.

Jasmine shrugged. "I think it was basically just agreeing that Spectra was terrible."

"Have you had any other interactions with Phantom?"

"None worth mentioning," said Jasmine.

What a strange way to phrase that. Collins decided not to call her on it, yet. Even with Paterson pointedly poking his ankle with her toe.

"Daniel, what about you?"

"It's Danny," the boy corrected. "I've never really talked to him. Unless you want to count things like 'look out!'"

"Nothing about his origins, then?"

"No?" said Danny.

"Have you heard anything about his origins from anywhere else?"

"We already told you about that," interrupted Maddie, frowning. "His origins are unknown, but he's existed for hundreds of years, at a minimum."

"Yes, but we'd like to hear from Danny and Jasmine," said Collins, giving Maddie his best professional smile. He turned back to Danny, expectantly.

"Someone once told me they thought he was a plague doctor, but, like, updated. I don't remember who, though."

"Right," said Collins. "Now, we'd like you to think back to about two years ago. Call it late summer, early fall. Did anything strange happen around that time?"

"Yeah," said Danny. "The Lunch Lady attacked the school for the first time. I don't remember the exact date, but it was right before the meat-vegetable protests."

"It was that early?" asked Collins, surprised. "That's months before the first recorded attack! Are you sure there was a ghost?"

"Pretty sure, yeah," said Danny, crossing his arms.

"Hey! That's about when we saw Phantom for the first time!" exclaimed Jack.

"Is it?" asked Collins.

"Yeah! He stole our prototype Fenton thermos! I still don't understand how he got it working." The last was a grumble.

"Interesting. And did anything strange happen other than that? Anything out of the norm?"

"Well," said Maddie, thoughtful, "we got our portal working about a month before that. Danny did, anyway."

"Did he? How?"

"Knocked a loose wire back into place!" boomed Jack, laughing. "That's my boy."

Danny's face was whey-colored again. Interesting.

Oh, hell. The portal definitely had something to do with all of this, didn't it.

"How does your portal work, exactly, anyway?"

"Excellent question!"

Fifteen minutes later, Collins had no better idea of how their portal worked except that it involved a great deal of ectoplasm and electricity, both of which they had found on the corpse. He couldn't help but think that he had finally discovered how Phantom had died.

And hearing Jack and Maddie, the boy's parents talk about the portal with such obvious pride while Danny squirmed in the armchair, looking for an escape...

"Thank you," said Collins, quickly, while Jack drew a breath. "I think that's all we need for today."

"But-" started Paterson.

"It's really all we need," repeated Collins. He saw Danny relax, marginally. "Just one more thing. Do you know anything about the break in at the city morgue last night?"

Various expressions flicked over the Fentons' faces. Jack's and Maddie's were blank. Danny's was was angry. Jasmine's was, surprisingly, guilty.

Did she steal the body? Collins would have never guessed it. The image she presented was too neat and mannered.

"Was it a ghost?" asked Maddie. "I'm afraid we can't do anything about it, otherwise."

"Right," said Collins. "We'll contact you if that evolves to be the case. And-"

"Oh, I can't take it anymore!" exclaimed Paterson. She pointed at Danny. "Are you Phantom?"

Danny jumped about a foot. "Wh-What? Nooooooooo. No, I'm not Phantom. I'm alive, aren't I?"

Damn. If that wasn't all but a confession.

The other Fentons started to laugh. The adults heartily. Jasmine uneasily.

"You've been listening to what's-his-name, haven't you? The West boy?"

"Weston," corrected Maddie. "No matter how many times we explained things to him..." She sighed. "I think there's something wrong with him, to be honest. But just to assuage your doubts..." She stood up and walked over to Danny. "Danny, do you mind."

"Nope," said Danny, standing up and holding out his wrist.

Maddie beckoned the detectives forward. "Here," she said, "feel this." She tapped her fingers on Danny's wrist.

"Go ahead," said Danny, staring up at him with a mix of apprehension and determination.

Collins put his fingers on Danny's wrist, on his pulse point. Danny's skin was smooth and cool, but not at all corpselike, or what Collins imagined a ghost would feel like.

"I have a pulse," said Danny. "Ghosts don't." Sure enough, Collins' fingers detected a slow but steady thump thump thump.

Maddie nodded. "Their closest equivalent is more of a constant rush. I could explain the science... but you were just leaving."

"Yes. Sorry about that. My partner can be a bit susceptible to conspiracy theories. I had to talk her out of hiring a psychic, once."

"Thank goodness you did," said Maddie, smiling. "Almost all psychics are fake."

"They don't believe it," said Danny, watching the detectives pull away from the curb below from the window of his room.

"Mom and dad? Of course not," said Jazz. "They won't believe you're Phantom unless you show them outright."

"No, the detectives. They don't believe I'm human. They still think I'm Phantom."

"Danny," said Jazz, cautiously. "Don't do anything rash."

"It isn't like I can make this any worse," said Danny. "I'm going to talk to them."

"What was that?" complained Paterson. "I never tried to hire a psychic!"

"Yeah, but you did agree that we wouldn't out Phantom in front of his parents. He said he doesn't want his family to know about him, and I don't want an angry ghost trying to throttle me! He can bench press a bus! I don't want his hands anywhere near my throat." He inhaled deeply and sighed. "At least we know what did him in."

"Do you?" asked a very cold voice.

It was a testament to Collins' steely nerves and rigorous police training that he didn't immediately crash the car upon finding a ghost in the back seat. Paterson nearly threw herself out of the car.

"Hi, Phantom," he said, instead, looking at the young ghost in the rear view mirror. "I don't suppose you know what happened to your body."

The ghost scowled. "It wasn't me. I told you to stop messing with stuff."

"Who, then? Your sister?"

Phantom's scowl deepened to something like rage. "Leave her out of this."

"Oh, god, you really are Fenton," said Paterson.

In her defense, Collins hadn't completely believed it, either.

Varied emotions passed over the ghost's face. "Come on, you don't believe Wes, do you?"

"There's other evidence," said Collins, voice wavering just a little. "I don't know how you're keeping up a pulse, or the rest of your human disguise, but you died in that portal, didn't you?"

Phantom was silent for a moment, then he reached through Paterson's chair and neatly plucked her recorder from her jacket, along with her phone. He tossed the phone into the seat next to him and crushed the recorder. Then he started riffling through Collins' pockets.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Collins. He guided the car to the side of the road and put it into park.

"You made it necessary," said Phantom. He pulled out Collins' phone as well and gave it a once over. "Look," he said. "I'm sort of," he paused, "upset that you guys dug up my body and then freaking lost it."

"Lost it-"

"Fine. Got it stolen from you by one of my enemies. One of my most dangerous enemies. Okay? Happy? Are you starting to understand why I wanted this left alone?"

"Are you trying to say that this isn't about your family not knowing you're dead?" asked Collins.

"Of course it's about that!" exclaimed Phantom. "It's just about half a dozen other things at the same time! You knowing about me could get me killed. Knowing about me could get you killed. The only reason Wes isn't dead is because he's completely ridiculous and no one believes him! You're credible!"

"By that enemy you mentioned?" asked Paterson, having regained some composure.

"Yeah," said Phantom. "He's got an interest in it not getting out."

"Why?" asked Paterson.

"Reasons," said Phantom, stubbornly.

"Does he have the same thing going on as you?"

Phantom crossed his arms and shrugged.

"One second," said Collins, "what do you mean, kill you? You're already dead."

"It's a figure of speech," mumbled Phantom. "Either way, the GIW would be more than happy to cut me open. Do you have any idea what they do to ghosts?"

"You- you're not actually dead, are you?" asked Collins. "Holy-"

"Yes, I am," said Phantom, quickly.

"How did you manage the pulse trick, then?"

"Lots of ghosts can do that. My parents don't know everything."

"You're a terrible liar. How the hell does that work? This- Ghost powers while alive?"

"I am dead," repeated Phantom. "How do you explain the body?"

"Half of it was missing," said Paterson.

Silence.

"I'm begging you to let this go," said Phantom. "People are going to get hurt. I'm going to get hurt."

"You don't think we'd let the GIW have you?" asked Paterson.

"I don't think it's a matter of 'let.' I-" he sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Ugh, I can't believe I made this even worse. What are you going to do?"

"We-" said Collins. Honestly, he had no idea. He looked at Paterson, who shrugged. "It isn't up to us, it's up to the captain."

"You can't tell more people!"

"Then you tell him. Come with us," said Paterson. "It's just one more, and he knows all of our suspicions, anyway." That wasn't completely true.

"If you really wanted to convince us not to, you could tell us more about your terrible enemy who may or may not be like you."

Phantom shook his head. "It's not worth it," he said, floating halfway out of his seat. "I'm going home."

"Wait," said Collins. "Your accident- It really was an accident, wasn't it? Your parents didn't-"

Phantom's face scrunched up. "Of course it was an accident. I was messing around someplace I shouldn't have been because of a dare. Are we done, now? Right up until you decide to ruin what's left of my life, anyway."

"Do you have a cell phone?" asked Paterson. "So we can call you, instead of your parents, if necessary." She offered up her notepad.

Phantom jerked it out of her hands and scrawled something on the paper. "Goodbye," he said, shortly, before flying out of the car.

Paterson swore, loudly.

"Yeah," agreed Collins. "Yeah."

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2020 #day 26

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sunsinrinn · 4 years

Text

Secrets Part 3.

Bakugo x reader, Bakugo x Uraraka, Kirishima x Reader

Fluff- ish, language, angst

Word count: 2,076

Idea: Y/n has a secret to share with bakugo not expecting a secret from him. She leaves heart broken and attempts to move on. But how will she move on if her secret can no longer be hidden? She fakes a relationship hoping its enough to not expose the true origin of the secret. (This is a terrible summary but I cant say much without spoiling future parts. 🙃)

“I have a plan that could probably fool everyone” he says slowly waiting for a sign from you to continue. You speak up, “Go on..”

He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “We could fake date.” As you open your mouth to speak he speaks up again, “I mean think about it. We would have to lie about how far along you are but it would fool everyone. I think. We can say we fell in love with each other but we are taking our time until one day I accidentally get you pregnant...” He looks at you while you think about his idea. He chews his lip waiting anxiously for your response.

“Let’s do it” You finally say and smile at home. He smiles brightly and says, “Hopefully it works.”

“How does it feel, Kiri, to be a dad?” You say jokingly. He freezes and realizes, “Oh snap you’re right- IMMA BE A WHOLE DAD- this is the happiest day of my life-“

You look at him in admiration. Come to think of it... he willingly accepted to raise a kid who wasn’t his and he never hesitated even if it was fake. You see his face beam with joy. ‘That joy doesn’t seem fake...’

You spend the rest of the day thinking of the story you’d have to tell others when you suddenly realize “KIRISHIMA-“ he looks at you frightened thinking something happened, “YOU MISSED YOUR PATROL-“

He looks at you for a while and laughs, “Oh yeaah- I forgot to mention I took the day off to stay with you”

You look at him with a wild look, “Why did you do that?”

“Like I said, so I could spend time with you and because I wanted to help you unpack. But you were done when me and Izuku came over.” He gives you a loopy grin.

You feel butterflies at his smile but ignore the feeling pretending its you appreciating his kindness. There is no way you’re falling again so soon right?

You get up and hug him, “Thank you so much Kirishima for being here for me. Thank you in advance for putting up with me when I get bigger and more annoying”

He hides his blush in the crook of your shoulder. And hold you near. “I promise to protect you and this baby, even if the baby isn’t mine.” He says softly. ‘I promise to protect you both because I love you more than life itself. And I know i will love you’re baby as my own.’ Kirishima knew this was the only way he could show his love for you and not worry about you rejecting him. He knew you didn’t love him like he did you but he settled for that.

As it nears dinner time you walk to the kitchen and begin preparing dinner. Kirishima wanders after you and watches as you seem content and thinks of what it would have been if he did live a life like this with you. Before he knew it dinner was ready and you serve him a plate and place it in front of him snapping him out of his daydream. He thanks you and waits for you to sit and eat with him.

After dinner he insists on washing the dishes and for you to relax because you’re pregnant. You almost argue that you were fully capable but as soon as you open your mouth he sweeps you off your feet and settles you on the couch as he runs off to do the dishes.

When he swept you off your feet your heart began to race furiously. You tried to push down the feeling but couldn’t help to think of why you felt that way. The only thing you could come up with was love but no that can’t be.

After Kirishima comes back he sits beside you and you both continue to talk about how your plan is going to work.

You spend the rest of your time off with Kirishima and Izuku whichever is off or has time. Other times you spend it alone or shopping for your baby because in your mind, it was never to early to start shopping. Heck, even Kirishima would come over after work and have something for the baby. He was as excited as you were. You notice how he took the role of being a dad seriously even if it wasn’t his child.

You finally return to work but after a couple of month of returning to work again, your pregnancy belly began to show causing you talk to your agency about having an indefinite leave from hero work until after your baby was born. They understand and let you go on maternity leave.

So again you find yourself at home. Tired of sitting around you decide to take a walk. You put on a loose dress that does a great job at hiding your belly and head out. As you take a stroll, you bump into someone and you mutter an apology as you look up and freeze. ‘Shit’ You dont know what to do or say so you stay quiet hoping he leaves you alone. “Y/N?” You hear him say and curse quietly, “Hey bakugo...”

He looks relieved and speaks again, “I’ve been trying to contact you and explain... but it says your number isn’t available. I also tried looking for you but I dont know where you live...”

“And I intend to keep it that way too, Bakugo” You walk off and feel him reach out and as he is about to grasp your arm you yank it back and you feel yourself fall and twist your ankle. Bakugo pales when he sees you fall and twist your ankle. “SHIT SHIT- IM SORRY Y/N- LET ME TAKE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL-“

“No-“ you try to stand but cant so you relent, “Fine, but please call kirishima for me”

His face scrunches up and wonders why you want to call kirishima. As he sits you in his car he dials Kirishima’s number and when he picks up you calmly begin to speak, “Hey kiri, Bakugo is taking me to the hospital... I twisted my ankle”

“Y/N? WHAT HAPPENED- HOLD ON I HAVE TO FINISH MY PATROL AND ILL BE THERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE DONT GO ANYWHERE” and he hangs up. You sigh, ‘where the hell am I supposed to go with a twisted ankle’ and set the phone down and see that you’ve arrived to the hospital. You see bakugo head inside and comes out a couple of seconds later with a nurse pushing a wheel chair. You wait as they sit you on the wheel chair and roll you inside.

After an hour the doctor comes back, Bakugo who insisted to stay mutters out, “Finally.”

“Well Miss. l/n, its a good thing that its only a sprain. And Also, did you know you’re pregnant-“

You pale and watch as Bakugo stiffens. You softly respond “Yeah, is the baby okay?”

“Yes! The baby is okay perfectly healthy, the fall did not harm them.”

You sigh in relief and before you answer you hear a familiar but out of breath voice say, “Oh crap I’m sorry I’m late but its a good thing the baby is healthy.” You smile at Kirishima but that smile doesn’t last when you look over at Bakugo who is so furious it looks like he’s about to let out some explosions.

“Can we have some alone time doctor?” Bakugo asks coldly and the doctor nods and walks out not wanting to be stuck in that drama.

“What the hell does he mean by your pregnant?” He growls out.

Both you and Kirishima pale and look at each other. ‘Well shit.’ None of you say anything so Bakugo speaks again,

“Is it mine? Is the baby mine?” He says almost hoping its true. Hoping that it will be a way to win you back.

You hesitate before answering, “No, that baby is Kirishima’s”

“YOU CHEATED ON ME AS WELL? YOU ACTED LIKE A VICTIM WHEN IN REALITY YOUR JUST A FILTHY WHORE?!!”

You grow angry but before you can say anything, Kirishima speaks for you.

“Dont you dare accuse y/n of being a whore. She is the most loyal person I have ever met. We did not mean to fall in love with each other but we did and now we are expecting.” He says it so calmly almost like he isn’t mad but oh boy he is furious. But unlike Bakugo, he knows it isn’t manly to loose his temper.

You stare in shock as you watch Kirishima defend you and as Bakugo sadden at Kirishima’s words. Did you really fall in love with Kirishima he asks himself.

“Please leave Bakugo,” Kirishima demands, “You’re stressing Y/N out and she doesn’t need that stress right now.”

Your heart beats uncontrollably as you watch him worry about you and the baby.

The doctor walks in after Bakugo storms out and says you can be released after you sign some papers. After signing them you are about to getup but before you even touch the ground you’re being picked up by a pair of strong arms making you blush. Kirishima notices your blush and blushes as well. He takes you to his car that not even gonna lie is parked terribly in his attempt to rush in to see you. He sits you down and buckles you in, “I can still buckle myself in Kiri” You say giggling slightly, “I know, but I still like to do it for you, princess” he shuts the door and runs to the other side. He buckles in and sets of home. When you arrive he insist on carrying you in all the way into your apartment. You thank him and before he leaves he makes you promise you’ll call him if you need anything. You laugh and promise.

After a week of being cared for by Kirishima you finally convince him to let you go shopping for baby things. He reluctantly agrees but only if he goes too. You sigh and agree. As you finish getting ready you stand in the mirror and look at your belly. ‘You’re getting bigger and bigger everyday, my love’ you think as you rub your belly. Kirishima walks in to see if you were done and sees you looking at your belly. He smiles and approaches you wrapping his arms around your stomach.

“Do you think I will be a good mother?” You ask him.

He is taken aback by the question but answers truthfully,

“I think you’ll be the best mom this little blessing could ever hope for.”

You smile and respond, “and you’ll be an amazing dad as well”

He smiles at that and says, “Y/n... I need to get something off of my chest...”

You look at him scared fearing the worst and answer, “What is it?”

“I think I’m in love with you...” He removes his arms from around you and looks at you waiting for rejection but it never comes, instead you say,

“I think I’m in love with you too” He smiles at that and gives you a small kiss on your lips. He feels so happy he could burst.

“I was so scared of telling you but I knew I couldn’t hide it anymore.”

“I’m glad you told me Kiri, I was scared to admit I had feelings for you because I was scared of being broken again but I know you’re not like that” You smile and speak again, “Now lets go because I want to go shopping for our baby” You pull him along and you leave your room and apartment.

You both decide to walk to the mall and enjoy each other’s company as you walk even with your twisted ankle you dont mind it because you have kirishima that was distracting you. As you arrive you head straight to the maternity stores not seeing a certain pink haired girl walk near you. Kirishima speeds up trailing after you not wanting to be apart from you.

As you browse the clothing you hear a familiar voice behind you,

“Y/N?! Is that you??? What are you doing in the maternity store-“ she trails off when you turn around to face her. She stares at your stomach, then at kirishima, and then at you and then back at the stomach.

“Holy shit- YOURE HUGE”

SERIES MASTERLIST — Part 4

A/N: this chapter is wack- sorry about that also sorry for it being so long I didnt realize it 🤧 also can you believe I wrote a chapter that was filled with very little angst? < I wrote that before I wrote the falling scene- Whew, anyways, if you’d like to be tagged you can send a dm, ask, or comment <3

Secrets taglist: @hero-ink-pillar , @silentw-lkr , @ushiwakatrash , @purple-rabanito

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x uraraka #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #ejirou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha

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duketectivecomics · 3 years

Note

What's your opinion on fans writing Duke with his cousin Jay as his guardian instead of Bruce? I've seen some people talk about not wanting to separate him from his family and preferring to have him raised by his cousin, but it also feels like some people might use that as an excuse to leave him out of the batfam

this got slightly long & esp ranty at the end for my tastes so tl;dr - ive talked guardianship before & stand by that fans can Do What they Want. but fans who exclude Duke from the main batfam can die by my sword </3

so yeah, I’ve talked abt Duke’s guardianship before and I’ll reiterate: while Cousin Jay most recently has custody of Duke, that doesn’t negate the fact that Duke WAS under Bruce’s care for a time. So whether fans choose to follow what’s most recently given by canon or opt to leave him in Wayne Manor, I will not begrudge either of those decisions. DC themselves hasn’t elaborated recently on what the case is (although I wouldn’t be surprised if they soft-retconned Cousin Jay’s role out, by virtue of [whatever current writer] simply forgetting what’s been established), so fandom Can and Will Do What They Want in that regard.

Duke is shown at the end of Batman & the Signal to be regularly visiting his parents. I love the idea of Duke keeping up with his former family members & with the batfam in equal parts & of fics exploring how he balances time btwn all of them. Family has always been a BIG thing for duke!!! And having that family expanded just makes it all the more important now! That’s what I’d LOVE to see from fic authors!

However, if Duke being in Jay’s custody IS being used as a (piss-poor) excuse to leave him out of the batfam-proper or relegate him to an auxiliary role, especially when modern comics place him as ANYWHERE but that. That’s where I’m gonna start throwing hands, lmao

Duke is a Main batfam member at this point. Don’t erase the fact that he HAS been directly taken under Bruce’s (proverbial) wing!!! Don’t erase the fact that the other batkids consider him a sibling!!! If a fan is leaving Duke out of their batfam content at this point, but including every OTHER batkid, its a BAD look and tbh I want nothing to do with them!!!

Tim’s dad was alive for most of his Robin run! Was he ever excluded from the narrative because of that? Babs’ dad is Much more famously alive, and, OH YEAH, she ends up getting included with damn near as much frequency as the Usual Four Boys. Steph wasn’t ever even directly adopted by Bruce, and yet we all agree that she’s DEFINITELY a main batkid now. So there’s no way anyone will ever convince me that Duke isn’t a Main Batkid unless they’re willing to start excluding all of these guys too. (but then again, some ppl just Do Exactly That Anyways bc they only care abt The Four BatBoys™ so...)

Whether its fic or art or WHAT have you, at this point there just... doesn’t feel like there’s much excuse. Duke’s been a legal part of this family since 2016. The greater part of the fandom is at least Casually Aware of him. Theres more and more blogs like mine trying to raise awareness for him and to give yall resources about him where we can. Use them!!! ask questions!!! explore these blogs and these tags!!! and for gods sake INCLUDE DUKE IN YOUR BATFAM CONTENT.

and if you’re afraid of fucking him up like, licherally just read about him fjdlkas; he’s one of the QUICKEST batkids to read for!!!!! and i should know!!!! I’m also actively trying to read for everyone else too!!! (not to toot my own horn but i’m about to start my 90s batfam reading actually so *TOOT TOOT MOTHERFUCKERS*)

like god, i don’t think its asking MUCH asking COMICS fans to READ COMICS lmao. like rco is a resource! overdrive is a resource! trades exist bc buying individual issues CAN get expensive! hell ive been reading mostly using the DCU app bc it HAS been more cost effective than trying to outright buy trades & its easier to navigate than rco! (& i dont have to worry abt pop-ups too!!! which is really nice!)

there’s LOTS of ways to get to know a character and the excuses at this point are either due to laziness &/or racism and either way its a Bad Look. Make An Effort @ batfamdom. he’s one extra boy to read for and he’s one of the FASTER & EASIER ones that you can get into! BECAUSE he’s so new! god just give him a SHOT least holy shit!!!!!!

#duke thomas #asked and answered #anonymous asks #randywrites #today on: Randy Got Big Mad lmao #rco is short hand for read comics online BTW #hashtag use rco like the rest of us #anyways yeah. i started getting HEATED abt this. just!!!!! oof it is NOT that hard to read up on a character SO NEW and with SO FEW comics #(comparatively speaking ofc)#and its not that hard!!! ive been reading for only a few years now and FOR REAL. duke was one of the EASIER characters for me to read for!!!#like the only reason im not making MORE content for him is BC im trying to curate it and bc i write mostly wlw stories so fjdklas;f;adk #im gonna remedy that soon. i should edit that duke n cass snippet ive been working on #i should work on that oracle corps idea that me n someone came up with ahh #just!!!!! respect duke thomas or perish!!!!!!!

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Baited Wolf Pack Trap

This Is Day 24 Of RolePlay May

Words: 4938

Warnings: Smut, Love/Hate relationship, Roleplaying As Couple, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Protective Stiles. Think that’s it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Lydia Martin, Reader, Mentions Of The Argent Family And Another Wolf Pack.

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: Stiles and reader are forced to work together when a wolf pack is threatening the safety of the humans of Beacon Hills, but confessions are revealed and things are said. How will things change between them.

A/N: Sorry I know It’s no longer May! But I have a few more to write then It will be done ;P

You pulled up at the McCall house with a deep sigh, you were all being called to a pack meeting at Scott’s house, he’d told you that it was urgent and you’d raced over. The reason for the pack meeting was unsettling, especially for you and Stiles since you were the only humans with no exact skills that were going to help keep you safe. Not that the two of you got on, ever. In fact there was rarely a time when you didn’t want to kick his skinny, sarcastic ass.

Pocketing your phone you climb out of your car and lock it behind you. Before taking the short walk up the drive. Scott and the Argent’s had a plan, these wolves were specialists in kidnapping at this point. They seemed to be going for young couples, young human couples at that. Nobody had told you what the plan was when they had called you earlier, so you were kind of dreading it. If they couldn’t tell you over the phone you had a feeling that you weren’t going to like it.

The door opens before you even knock and Scott pulls you inside and quickly closes the door behind you. He presses his fingers to his lips and you nod, following him, the both of you walk down the stairs that lead to the basement, where the rest of the pack are waiting for you.

“Okay, so now we’re all here we should probably go over the plan.” Scott says, looking around the room at everyone, you can’t help but wonder, does he look nervous?

When he’s finally finished speaking you almost can’t speak, feeling your annoyance and outrage for your Alpha spiking to new levels.

“You better be joking Scott!” You exclaim loudly, causing everyone except the one person who is for once on your side to shush you.

“I hate to say it, especially when it means i’m agreeing with her.” Stiles sighs looking at you and rolling his eyes when you look away, “But she does have a point, there is no way this is gonna work.”

“For once he’s talking sense. You cannot seriously believe this is a good idea? Nobody will believe it.” You sigh looking between Allison, Scott and Lydia.

“Look, you’ll both be safe, we're all gonna be there, dad will have eyes on the wolves at all times.” Allison assures you calmly.

“No. Not happening. No way in hell am I pretending to be with him!” You hiss quietly this time, aware that you probably shouldn’t be shouting right now, not even when the situation completely calls for it.

“Why can’t you do it?” You ask looking at Allison, with irritation dripping from your every word.

Allison walks over to you, laying her hands gently on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes as she speaks. You can briefly hear Scott and Lydia talking to Stiles somewhere on the other side of the room.

“You know I would if I could Y/N! But they know about me and Scott. So we have to assume they know about Lydia. They also know about my entire family, they won’t come anywhere near if I’m there. It’s too obvious.”

You hate to admit it but she’s right and it could be your only chance to stop more people being killed. Chewing on your lip you think it over for another minute or so, before finally finally you nod reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll do it. When do we leave?”

“What she said.” Stiles grumbles reluctantly.

“You’re gonna have to make it convincing though guys.” Scott tells you both seriously, looking between you. “One slip up and this isn’t gonna end well for any of us.”

He sounds worried, which worries you even more. Usually Scott is so calm and collected, even in the most stressful situations.

“Well, that’s comforting,” Stiles announces sarcastically and you have to resist the urge to throw something at him.

“So, you guys head out first.” Scott says, stopping Stiles before he can head up the stairs.

“Yeah Scott, we get it. We’ve gone over it a thousand times at this point. We go to Lydia’s cabin in the woods, which is close to where all of the other abductions happen. Act all in love and whatever and wait for them to show.” You explain quickly, making sure to throw a vomit sound in for effect, feeling Stiles glaring at you with that fake ass happy smile.

“Exactly we’ll be fine. Can’t wait to be almost murdered, again.” Stiles sasses, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as soon when you both reach the top step.

Gritting your teeth you wrap your arm around Stiles’ slim waist, trying to look as comfortable as possible, which is not easy right now.

“Whose car are we taking?” You ask, keeping your voice as casual as possible but after what Scott had said you can’t help feeling like you’re being watched, which honestly you probably were.

“Might be best if we take mine, not sure yours will thank you in the middle of the forest.” Stiles chuckles, you try and smile back but your nerves are getting the best of you.

“Yeah, sure. Makes sense,” you agree quietly as he lets go of you and walks around to the other side and you patiently wait for him to unlock the jeep.

You both climb up and close the doors and Stiles starts the engine. Turning on the radio Stiles turns it up as he pulls out of Scott’s driveway, the silence in the car is surprisingly comfortable as he drives. His long fingers tap against the steering wheel but you can feel his eyes on you, however before you catch him, he looks away.

“Maybe we should have a signal, in case one of us thinks we’ve seen something but it isn’t safe to say it.” He suggests suddenly, surprising you because it’s actually quite a good idea.

“Yeah, okay. I like the sound of that, did you have any ideas.?” you ask curiously, turning to look at him a little better. “Preferably ones that don’t make me want to gag.” You add seriously because you can only imagine some of the things his brain is cooking up to make you uncomfortable already.

“Stop acting so high and mighty. You’re my fake girlfriend now after all, you should probably start acting like you don’t hate me.” Stiles grumbles turning away from you so he can focus on the road again.

You frown slightly at his words, sure he’s a massive pain in the ass but you don’t hate him.

“Why would you think I hate you?”

Stiles clenches his fingers around the steering wheel a few times before relaxing a little.

“Look, we’re almost here. Pick a word.” Stiles replies shortly, you chew on your bottom lip deciding it might be best to drop the conversation for now.

“Okay, fine. How about, baseball bat?” You suggest quietly, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Great. We should probably act like I’m surprising you with a trip or something.”

“Sure. So, we do what we have to do.” You reply, swallowing thickly when he pulls up outside the cabin.

“Right.” Stiles replies with a nod, you look back down at your lap and nod back, taking a few deep breaths. You’re so distracted you don’t notice Stiles getting out of the car and walking around to your side, until he opens your door and holds out his arms.

“Come on baby girl, time for your surprise.” Stiles grins up at you, he looks somewhat different already and you can’t help but think he is about to be so much better at this than you.

Resting your hands on his shoulders you feel his arms wrap around your waist as he helps you down. He sets your feet back on the ground slowly, so that you basically have to slide down his body. You refrain from rolling your eyes at him and give him your best smile when he takes your hand and laces your fingers together with his.

“Trying to earn yourself some brownie points, pumpkin?”

“Always,” he winks, pulling you over to the biggest cabin you’ve ever seen.

Which is why your reaction at this point is completely real.

“Holy shit! This is amazing!”

Stiles grins, looking pleased with himself as you drag him up the steps.

“Call it an early birthday present. I know last year wasn’t the best.”

Which was also completely true, last year your birthday had been a disaster. The pack had been under attack by the Alpha pack and you’d lost a lot of people.

“Wait though, I haven’t got my stuff with me.”

Stiles wraps his arms around your waist and you gasp when he pulls you close.

“Don’t worry, all sorted. Lydia packed your bags for you while you were busy.” Stiles chuckles at the look of genuine disbelief on your face.

“I wanted to keep it a surprise, but feel free to walk around like you don’t have your bags, I am more than okay with that.” He practically purrs, his fingers slipping just beneath your t-shirt and brushing against your skin just slightly.

The way he’s looking at you is something you’ve never seen before and you have to remind yourself this is all an act. Maybe you should play up your own role a little, you didn’t want to be the reason you were both found out, Stiles would never let you live it down.

You push your fingers into the back of his hair as he pulls you closer, you swallow hard meeting his darkened brown eyes.

“You’re such a perv,” you laugh biting your lip as he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your wet lips.

‘Ready?’ Stiles’ mouths to you as his fingers curl around the back of your neck, you nod and swallow the thick lump forming in the base of your throat the best that you can.

He barely even nods back before his lips press against yours, you surprise both of you when you moan against his lips. Stiles seems to like your response, you can feel him smiling against your lips as he backs you up against the door, you hear keys jingling and yet again you need to keep telling yourself that this is all for show, after all it was, right?

He’s fiddling behind your back, trying to get the key into the lock and you can’t help but giggle at him. You’re quickly silenced when he drags his teeth over your bottom lip and his fingers tighten in your hair. You both stumble through the door and Stiles kicks the door shut behind him, “window. Baseball bat.” He mumbles against your lips, you open your eyes to see him looking at you.

You nod gently as he releases you and grabs your hand, you follow him as he quickly drags you up the stairs and pulls you into one of the rooms. There’s an en-suite in this room and you both look around quickly before he heads for the bathroom. He lets go of your hand and turns the shower on, you look at him with wide eyes. Stiles rolls his eyes and pulls off his clothes, until he’s down to his boxers and steps inside.

You’re nervous again but you know what he’s doing, you pull off your jacket and jeans, leaving yourself in your strappy top, bra and panties before you join him inside and he closes the door.

“They’re close. Scott prank called my phone and let it ring three times, before it cut out. I felt it when we walked in.” He whispers, stepping away from the spray seeing you shiver he gently guides you beneath it.

“Okay, so what do we do?” You ask quietly, pushing your hair away from your face.

“I’m gonna go get your bag, you can get some different clothes on and hopefully Scott and the others get them before they get us.” Stiles replies with a gentle smile but you grab his arm before he can leave.

“I’ll be right back,” he assures you.

“You guys actually brought a bag here? But I didn’t even agree until a few hours ago.”

“Of course we did, I already agreed days ago, if you went along with it then I was in.” He reveals with a shrug of his shoulders, “even if you do hate me, I knew you’d do what was right.”

“I-I don’t hate you.” You sigh sadly, pushing the hair out of his face so you can see him properly.

“Sure you do, you always do everything you can to stay away from me. Ignoring any possibility that would leave us alone together at all times. You’re always biting my head off.” He half laughs as he reels off the numerous reasons for his doubt.

“Honestly, I never thought that you liked me. I heard what you were saying to Scott when he first said I could join the pack. How I wasn’t like the rest of you, then after that you could barely look at me. I was protecting myself from getting hurt, Stiles.” You tell him honestly, feeling the way it hurts to remember these things all over again. The weight sits heavy on your chest, more so than ever now you’re finally saying this out loud.

“Y/N, you’ve got it all wrong. I said that you weren’t like us because you weren’t, you were safer if you didn’t get involved in all of this. The wolves didn’t know about you, not until you joined the pack. I couldn’t look at you because I couldn't let myself drag you in any further, I just-” He sighs cutting himself off.

Understanding hits you like a tonne of bricks, he’d said all of those things to try and protect you.

“Tell me, please.” You say quietly, resting a hand on his bear chest, feeling his thundering heart thumping wildly in his chest.

Stiles shifts on his feet nervously, he actually looks like he might be blushing slightly. His hand covers yours when he meets your eyes again, “before you joined, do you remember that night at Lydia’s end of year party?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You answer a little confused about where this is going.

“I said I wanted to ask you something. Then stupid fucking Jared threw up all over you,” his grumble only makes you laugh at the memory, when Stiles had chased him around and scared the poor guy half to death.

“Yeah, I remember. You were not happy.” He laughs along with you and when you suddenly stop he looks worried. “So, what were you going to ask me?” You ask again, wincing slightly at the shake in your voice.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter now, clearly it was stupid.”

You roll your eyes when he backs away from you and you grab his arm, turning him back to face you.

“Stiles, tell me. Please, I want to know.”

“I...I was gonna ask if you wanted to go for a swim,”

“And?” You pry, knowing there was definitely more to that story.

“Is it the same reason you agreed to go on this insane mission with me?”

“Maybe, or maybe I was just doing what was best for everyone. So you were- so that everyone was safe” He tells you, backtracking at the last second, swallowing roughly when you pull him closer, back to where he had been before.

You can’t help but bite into your smile when he says those last words, you had been pushing your feelings down for so long you’d almost forgotten they were there.

“So, all of that downstairs and half way upstairs, was just for show?” You ask with another smile etching onto your lips when he starts to smile right back at you.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” You smile seductively, pulling your t-shirt over your head and dropping it to the floor. “So I suppose this would be of no interest to you?” You ask with a pout, when he fights to keep his eyes on yours.

“Nope. No, nothing at all…..I mean, well-” you cut him off leaning up on your tip-toes you pull him down and press your lips to his, this time the kiss is more insistent and Stiles groans into your mouth, his hands moving to cup your ass and pull you closer. Your tongues move together like you’d been kissing for years, the kiss is firm and perfect, slowly turning demanding.

You reluctantly pull away so you can both breathe, looking up into his eyes when he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m getting kinda cold now the water has run out. You wanna take this somewhere else?” You ask breathlessly when he starts kissing his way along your jaw and down your neck.

“You sure? We don’t have to.” He asks following you as you pull him out of the shower and into the bedroom. He quickly closes the curtains as soon as you both step inside, knowing the others are probably watching the house. You pull off your soaked underwear, the wet slap of it hitting the floor causes Stiles to turn around. Watching with an open mouth as you jump beneath the duvet on one of the beds.

“Sorry, I’m so cold. If you want to we can forget anything even happened, pretend that it was just part of the act. Or you can get under here and I’ll leave the rest up to you.” You reply quietly, not wanting to make him feel like he has to do anything.

Stiles seems to think for a whole ten seconds before he pulls off his wet boxers and climbs underneath the covers with you.

You giggle when he pulls you close and rolls himself on top of you, he links his fingers with yours and gently presses them back into the mattress, His lips are soft as they press against your jaw, you squirm beneath him more with every kiss until his lips are pressed against your ear.

“You’re so soft baby,” he practically purrs as he lets go of your hands and rolls back onto his side. You can’t help but whimper when one of his hands pushes between your legs, those long fingers sliding slowly up your inner thigh and he keeps his eyes locked with yours.

“Gotta get you warmed up. You think we’ll have time to take it slow?” He asks gently as you spread your legs a little wider.

“Maybe not,” you reply, matching his tone, your fingers tightening their grip on his biceps. “Honestly, I don’t care. I just need you.” The words are out of your mouth only seconds before his lips press against yours again. You gasp into his mouth, feeling him smile as his long fingers slip teasingly back and forth against your slick pussy, making sure he passes over your clit with every slow movement.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Stiles groans as you kiss him again and start to rock your hips down into his fingers. You pull back resting your forehead against his, your breath heavy against his lips. You cling to his shoulders when he eases two fingers inside you, enjoying the way your body arches into him.

“Stiles, please.” You gasp when he starts to curl his fingers inside you, hooking your leg over his hip as you awkwardly move a hand between you both and wrap your small hand around his long thick length.

“Shit, you’re so big.” You can’t help the tone of surprise in your voice and Stiles chuckles.

Stiles gently moves your hand away, getting up onto his knees between your legs and pushing the duvet away. You bite your lip and spread your legs wider, gasping loudly when his fingers move faster and his free hand moves to rub at your clit in rough, fast circles.

“You’re so close baby come on, so tight around my fingers. You gonna come for me?”

His voice is driving you crazy and his words are only pushing you closer, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to quieten down anything the pack or anyone else might be hearing you nod.

“Come on, talk to me. I don’t care who hears you, I want them to hear you screaming for me rather than at me, for a change. You can do that for me, can’t you?” His smirk is so cocky in that moment and you want to slap him and kiss him all at the same time.

You nod again, feeling your orgasm twisting at the pit of your stomach, you cup your tits and pinch your nipples roughly, “Stiles, please!” You all but shout, squeezing your eyes shut when the orgasm rushes through you like nothing you’d ever felt before. Your fingers drop by your slides and your hands fist at the bed sheets.

When your eyes flutter open Stiles gently takes his fingers out and pounces on you, not giving you time to admire how good his fist looked wrapped around his thick cock. You giggle when he pins your hands back against the bed but that quickly turns into a moan when he starts sucking marks into the side of your neck, his tongue soothing over the mark before he bites down and drags his teeth across it.

His cock lays heavily between you, pressed between your stomachs and your pussy is aching in need of more of him. Stiles pulls back from your neck to look into your eyes and you feel the wide head of his cock pressing against your soaked opening.

“You want my cock baby? Gonna be a real tight fit,” Stiles groans when you roll your hips, pushing the head of his impressive length inside you.

“Fuck me Stiles, please! Want your big cock inside me,” you practically beg when he pins your hips to the mattress.

“So perfect, can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner.” Stiles moans slowly pushing further inside you, your hands gripping tightly to his biceps, nails digging into the soft skin.

You’re breathing heavily, both of you watching as he inches inside your soaked pussy. The incredible way that you stretch around him, he’s so much bigger than anything you’d ever had and certainly bigger than anything you’d expected. Stiles snaps his hips forward, pushing the last two inches inside you, causing you to cry out with the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that sits between your legs.

“Oh s-shit! Yes!”

Stiles shifts slightly, hitching the back of your knee into the crook of his elbow. The new angle only pushes him inside you deeper, you lock eyes with him when he pulls almost all of the way out, so only the tip of his cock is inside you before snapping his hips forward and filling you in one rough thrust.

Any worries about what might be going on outside are blown out of the water, all you can feel, all you can think about is Stiles and how good he feels.

“So fucking deep!” You cry out in pleasure when Stiles starts a steady and fast rhythm, moving your leg a little further until it’s resting against his shoulder.

You can feel the sweat beginning to coat both of you, the pleasure is so overwhelming all you can do is throw your head back into the pillows when Stiles pins your hands to the bed with his. The slap of his hips against your ass echoes throughout the room, he drops his head to your shoulder and presses his lips against your ear, “such a good girl. You gonna come all over my cock baby?” He growls deep in his chest, as every snap of his hips becomes rougher, he’s so deep it feels like he’s in your stomach and there’s an unfamiliar feeling curling in the pit of your stomach.

You whimper his name meeting his almost black eyes with your hooded ones when Stiles lifts his head from your neck, “kiss me please.” You moan when his groin starts repeatedly rolling against your clit perfectly.

Stiles is quick to lean in and roughly presses his lips to yours, his thrusts never faltering, the kiss is a mess of tongues and slight clashing of teeth and only causes more arousal to rush straight to your dripping pussy.

Stiles suddenly sits up on his knees, releasing your hands and pushing your knees back against your chest the best he can without hurting you. His long skilled fingers are digging into your thighs when he starts thrusting again. This angle gives you the perfect view of everything, the way that his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, dark eyes trained on when his cock slips into your tight center.

“Fuck, look at that.” He half grunts half moans, your eyes move down his body, to the surprising muscles of his chest and the abs that are pulled tight with every harsh fast thrust of his lean hips. Seeing it makes your stomach clench all over again, his thick cock is pounding into you, coated in your juices, “rub your clit for me baby and look at me, wanna feel it.”

You do as he says, moving your shaking hand between your thighs and you start rubbing your clit back and forth with two fingers. Quickly moving your eyes to look back at him, feeling that slightly unfamiliar feeling returning. You’d only felt it once before, half of you wants to squirm away from the feeling while the other part of you want’s to push into it. But the way Stiles is pinning you to the bed you’re forced to stay where you are.

“Fuck! Stiles, I can’t….Shit! It feels too good!” You practically scream and a smirk spreads across Stiles’ lips.

“Yes you fucking can baby! You gonna squirt for me?” The more he talks the closer you get, your mouth falls open and you know he’s right. Your eyes squeeze shut, feeling yourself right on the edge.

“Come on! You’re so close, I can feel your tight little pussy clenching around me. Squirt all over that cock baby girl,” Stiles growls, blunt nails digging into your thighs.

“Shit, shit, shit…….Oh God, Stiles!” You cry out loudly, thighs shaking as you cling to the bed sheets. Your vision whites as you feel your juices rolling down your ass cheeks, quickly followed by Stiles’ growled praises.

You’re panting hard when you feel your body starting to relax, your legs are hooked over Stiles’ hips and he’s panting hard against your neck. Hands resting either side of your head. You turn your head the best you can, seeing his closed eyes, which squeeze tighter every now and then. You lean forward and press a gentle kiss against his lips and those honey brown eyes open and move to look at you.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles laughs breathlessly, nose nudging yours gently.

“Uh huh,” you giggle in agreement, still too out of it to really speak at all.

“I’m just gonna get you a drink, hang on. I’ll be right back.” Stiles smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“M’kay, be careful.” You reply sleepily, as he untangles himself from your body and climbs off the bed, pulling up his boxers and pulling on his pants.

“I will,” he smiles, grabbing his baseball bat from under the bed.

However, before he can leave there’s a loud smash that comes from downstairs, Stiles quickly grabs his plaid shirt and tosses it to you when you sit up.

You hurriedly pull it on and Stiles shakes his head when you try and get up, you roll your eyes and insist you're fine.

“You sure? He asks gently, holding out his hand and helping you up off the bed. Your legs are still shaking but you manage to stand where he keeps you behind his back and slowly walks closer to the door, bat raised.

The door crashes open before you get too close and Stiles pushes you back behind him further. You watch the muscles in Stiles’ back and shoulders clench as he gets ready to defend you. But before Stiles can get a swing in the wolf is tossed from your room by Scott. Who looks between you and Stiles with a knowing smile, seeing you’re okay he follows the Argent’s who have darted the wolf with enough tranquilliser to take down a bull elephant.

“We’ll meet you guys…. Well, you know where!” Scott calls behind him, remembering others from the dicks wolf pack might be listening.

“My hero,” you giggle when Stiles closes the door and drops the bat to the floor with a relieved sigh.

“Oh shut up,” Stiles laughs along with you, quickly pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

“So, I guess we should get dressed huh?” You smile, running your hands over his chest enjoying the way he leans into your touch with a gentle sigh and his muscles ripple beneath your touch.

Stiles nods, biting his lip and those gorgeous brown eyes meet yours.

“Mhmm, maybe we should.” He agrees, hands moving around to grip your ass and squeeze.

“Do they really need two humans getting in the way?” You practically purr, pressing yourself closer.

“I’m sure they can survive without us. Besides, we could really do with another shower.” Stiles muses slipping his hand between your legs.

The two of you never did make it back to that meeting.

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#stiles stilinski #roleplay may #stiles teen wolf #roleplay #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski one shot #teen wolf stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski teen wolf #teen wolf #teenwolf #Scott McCall #scott and stiles #teen wolf stiles #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski fic

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lustinglilac · 4 years

Text

Mother’s Instinct

A/N: In which Oscar and Cesar’s sister goes into labor but her fiancé, Sad Eyes, isn’t there yet to witness the baby’s birth.

Warnings: strong language, blood, probably a completely inaccurate delivery of a baby

*All credit for the name Jose goes to other writers*

*GIF BY: @merakiaes 🖤

“I am not having this baby on the porch! Get Jose on the phone right now—“ She grabbed a Santo member closest to her by the neck of his tank top, yanking him down level with her face.

“He’s not picking up!” Another one yelled, pacing back and forth with the phone pressed to his ear.

“Call him again— ow!” A sharp contraction hit her as she clutched onto her stomach panting.

“What the fuck is goin’ on here?” Relief flooded through her body for a split second replacing the pain at the sound of her older brother’s voice.

“Oscar. The baby’s coming.” Her voice strained, attempting to do those stupid breathing exercises that were not working at all.

“Did anyone call a fuckin’ ambulance?!” His voice bellowed out across the lawn, making the other members flinch.

“She wouldn’t let us, Spooky, said she wanted to wait for Sad Eyes.” Oso spoke up first, looking at him with a worried expression.

“Are you crazy?! We’re going to the hospital— ahora!” Oscar leaned down to help up his sister by her upper arm, ignoring her pleas of not wanting to go just yet in case her fiancé showed up.

“Oscar— we have to wait for him! Aghhh!” A loud yelp of pain passed her lips, gripping her brother’s hand so tight he hissed.

“You can’t wait any longer. Cesar, get inside grab the hospital bag. We’re leaving now whether you like it or not.” His gruff tone leaving her no room to argue as Cesar ran inside the house to get the go bag.

“Help me get ‘er up.” Oscar nodded to Oso who immediately complied. With an arm each under hers, they helped her walk to the waiting vehicle at her pace.

“He can’t miss the birth of his baby.” She whimpered quietly, making her brother’s heart break but nonetheless put her in his car slowly.

“If anyone hears from him, tell him where we are.” Oscar commanded Oso who wasted no time in checking if he had gotten a call back yet.

“Good luck, hermana, we’re praying for a safe delivery. Te amo.” Cesar kissed her head and then her round belly, saying a small prayer with his palm against her stomach.

“Te amo— gracias Cesar.” She whispered before groaning in pain slightly, leaning back in the passenger seat.

The red Impala pulled off the curb and onto the street, racing to the nearest hospital.

“Stay with me, alright? He’ll be here. We ain’t know baby girl was comin’ this early—“

“Baby boy—“ She managed to grit out through her teeth.

Some of the gang had been convinced it would be a baby girl, even Jose himself. She felt it was going to be a baby boy, claiming it was a “mother’s instinct” to know the sex of the baby. Plus, she’d read one too many old wives tales on Google to help her come up with the decision.

Even though he was mad that she waited this long before telling him she was having labor pains, he couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at her stubborn attitude.

Her water hadn’t broken yet though the contractions were stronger than ever. A gasp left her lips as she clutched onto the dashboard, nails digging into it, breathing heavily.

“We’re almost there. Hold on.” She didn’t miss the panic in Oscar’s voice as they arrived into the emergency department. Oscar came around on her side to help her out.

“I can’t— I can’t get out of the car.” She struggled to get up off of the seat, panting when she tried to lift herself, a sharp pain shooting through her abdomen.

Oscar let go of her hand, “Just don’t move,” He turned his head towards two EMT workers clearly having a lunch break on the back of their truck, “Hey! Lemme get some help over here!”

The two of them looked their way, immediately jumping into action seeing the woman in pain.

One of them grabbed a folded up wheelchair from the back of their truck, running across the parking lot to their aid.

Just as they reached her side, she felt a warm liquid trail down her legs, “Oh shit. My water.” She looked down wide eyed at the wet seat of the Impala and then back up at the man helping her.

“You’re okay. Take deep breaths. What’s your relation?” He looked to Oscar, eyeing the Santos cross on the side of his neck.

“I’m her brother.” He looked the EMT up and down with a scowl.

“Right— we’ll just get her inside.” The EMT’s eyes widening, helping her get into the wheelchair with precise speed having been trained for this moment.

•••

“Oscar, the labor process can be hours long. You don’t have to stay— really.” She tried to reason with him, holding onto the side rail of the bed so hard she felt like she could break it.

Oscar shook his head bregudgingly, “I’ll be right here. I don’t know when— when Jose’s gonna show up. Until he does, I’ll be by your side.”

She let a single tear roll down her cheek, trying not to think of where her spouse was. She prayed to God he wasn’t in trouble and would contact them soon. Oscar noticed the way she grew quiet at the sound of his name, leaning over in his chair to hold her hand, placing his forehead against hers.

“You got this, hermana. Baby’s gonna be fine, Jose’s gonna be fine.” Oscar closed his eyes breathing in a deep breath as she cried for the first time that night. He didn’t know whether it was from the stress, from the nerves, or from his second-in-command and the father to his sister’s baby was not there.

As the minutes passed by, he’d began to feel guilty. Sad Eyes was doing a run for him in dangerous territory, alone. He hadn’t picked up his phone the first few times, no one was able to get a hold of him. What if he died because of him? Oscar would never let that guilt go, praying to God he was okay.

•••

An excruciating 7 hours later, she was fully dilated and ready to push this baby out into the world.

“Ms. Diaz, your doctor is here. We’re ready to push, sweetheart.” An older nurse walked into the room, smiling sweetly at the younger girl.

She looked to her brother who nodded his head encouragingly and then back at the nurse, “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Dad, will you be staying for the birth?”

“I’m her brother,” Oscar comments as politely as he could without glaring at the nurse who hadn’t known any better, “I’ll be right next to her.” He looks at his sister who had a somber smile on her face at his comment.

The nurses assigned to her worked around the two of them to assist the doctor, putting out any other equipment that they may have needed.

Oscar’s phone rung for a split second, sending a wave of hope through her body as she looked over to him with wide eyes. He looked at the caller ID, Cesar’s name showing up.

“Cesar— you hear anythin’?” He spoke into the phone just as the doctor came in.

“No. Nothing yet. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She’s about to have the baby.” Oscar looked at the doctor who was saying something to his sister as she nodded her head agreeing with what was being said.

“Oscar— hello? You’re breaking up—“ Cesar’s voice cutting in and out of the receiver making Oscar hang up all together out of frustration.

“Okay, let’s get this baby out. The sex of the baby is still a surprise right?” The doctor asked, placing herself between her legs.

“Yes, it is.” She whispered, grinning slightly at her OB. Oscar stayed near her head, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead and moving some of her hair out of the way with his thumb.

“I’m scared, Oscar, I’m so fucking scared.” She whispered, eyes closing as the doctor told her what to do in order to make her feel more comfortable.

“You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna do this together, alright?” Oscar took her trembling hand in his larger one, letting her squeeze it as hard as she needed to.

“When you feel a contraction coming, start pushing.” One of the nurses educated her on what to do as she nodded her head.

“I feel ahh— I feel a contraction!” She yelled out, the doctor encouraging her to push. She grunted, giving one hard push before panting, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Oscar grimaced not being able to understand the pain of childbirth but sure as hell watching the pain on his sister’s face as she pushed his niece or nephew out.

The same nurse from earlier tilted her head to her chest from the other side of the bed not letting her lay flat, talking her through the process and whispering sweet words.

“Ahhhh!” She screamed louder than she intended to, giving it her all with another push as she squeezed her brother’s hand.

“Almost there, sweetie, you’re doing great— one final push. Big push, come on I know you can do it.” The doctor supported her as she was finally able to see the baby’s head come through.

“Come on— one more push.” Oscar smiled wide, looking from the doctor to his sister.

She breathed in through her nose just like those birthing technique books had taught her, pushing for the last time, body exhausted due to what she’d endured for the past few hours.

“It’s a boy!” A loud wail sounded throughout the room, the sound of her baby boy being born.

“I have a nephew. I’m so proud of you.” Oscar held her face between his hands kissing the top of her head over and over again.

“I have a baby boy. Oh my god.” She whispered, tears flooding her eyes.

“Congratulations. He’s precious!” The nurse next to her smiled at the sweet boy who was getting cleaned up with towels and fidgeting slightly in the little basin. She couldn’t wait to hold him.

“Let me the fuck in! That’s my wife in there!” An angry voice yelled outside of the delivery room, prompting Oscar to let go of his sister and check out what was happening.

“Jose?!” The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them, recognizing the sound of her fiancé’s voice just about anywhere.

“Ms. Diaz, we are gonna have you do skin to skin with your baby boy. Sit back for a moment—“ The nurse instructed her to lie back on the bed.

“Sir, we cannot have you yelling on this floor.” Another much calmer voice spoke to the mystery man.

“Spooky! Is she in there?! Is my baby in there?!” Jose questioned his leader as soon as he saw him. He had a cut above his eyebrow that was bleeding slightly and a bruise forming on his jawline as well as a few other bruises that crept down his neck.

“He’s the father.” Oscar glared at the person who’d told him to keep his voice down. He nodded his head towards the door, not letting anyone else interfere with him getting into the delivery room.

It was like everything was moving in slow motion, from their baby boy being placed on her chest to the moment their eyes met.

“Jose.” She gasped, eyes welling up with tears at the sight of her fiancé who looked like he was hurting more than her.

The room went silent, all eyes on the interaction that was happening before them and on the Santo who was covered in blood.

“Gracias a Dios.” Jose nearly fell to his knees at the bedside taking the hand that wasn’t holding their son and bringing her knuckles up to his lips.

“We have a son, Jose.” She smiled and laughed all at the same time, grasping onto his hand so tightly like he would disintegrate any minute.

“Te quiero siempre y para siempre.” Jose whispered as the older nurse who’d cared for her brought him a wipe for his face and he took it, grateful for her caring instincts.

“I’m gonna wash my hands, okay? And then I’m gonna hold our son.” He nodded, letting go of her hand to stand up and walk to the sink, scrubbing his hands clean and ridding himself of the soiled flannel shirt he had over his tank top.

“What happened? I was scared that you were—“ The words caught in her throat barely able to get them out.

“I’d never, ever leave you,” Jose kissed her lips for the first time that night making any and every worry she had melt away. “Don’t think like that, mi amor.”

“You’re right. I know you wouldn’t,” She wiped a tear from her cheek sniffling as she looked down at their son nestled against her chest. “He’s perfect like his daddy.”

Jose smiled, reaching a finger down for his baby boy to grasp, his tiny fingers wrapping around his daddy’s finger as a reflex.

“We’re gonna let you have some time. Let me know if you need anything or have any questions.” Her OB left them to their own accord, leaving a nurse behind in case they needed help.

“Dad, why don’t you have a seat. I’ll put the baby on your chest, how’s that sound?” The nurse smiled up at Jose, pulling the chair closer to the bed for him.

Their baby boy cooed and squirmed as he was removed off of his mother, carefully being placed onto Jose’s strong chest.

“Mi vida. Papi te ama por siempre.” He whispered while caressing his back softly as the baby relaxed in his arms.

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t make it in time for the birth. I tried so hard. I really did, nena.” He sighed, watching her watch the two of them interact. He could tell she was upset over the fact that he wasn’t there to witness their baby being born. But he was thankful that she had Oscar there because he knew he’d never leave his sister all alone.

“It’s okay. None of that matters, my love. You’re here now and that’s all I ever need.”

“Damn, I can’t believe we have a baby boy. I really thought it was going to be a beautiful little girl. Shit— half the guys thought so too.” Jose thought back to the way the Santos would place bets on the baby’s gender, his fianceé being the one to collect nearly half of it since she’d been right all along.

“Mother’s instinct. I told you, baby.” She smiled, giggling at the way he rolled his eyes playfully.

“The next baby I put in you is gonna be a girl, mamas, I can tell you that much. Father’s instinct.” He joked back, chuckling at the way she blushed at his words.

“She just had a baby and you’re already talking about a second one, mano?” Oscar’s voice startling them both as he walked back into the room.

“Spooky, man, thank you. For everything. I owe you.”

“Nah— you don’t owe me nothin’. Don’t worry about it,” Oscar waved his statement away, “I do wanna hold my nephew though.” He smirked down at the sleeping baby in his brother-in-law’s arms.

“For sure, man.” Jose stood up slowly with the baby on his chest still, moving carefully as not to disturb his slumber.

She watched from the bed as her older brother held his nephew for the first time, “He likes you, Oscar.” She awed from her bed, eyes watering at the way her son immediately felt comfortable in her brother’s arms.

“He better. I kinda watched him come out of you.” Oscar joked making her roll her eyes at the statement.

She watched on as her brother bounced in place with the baby, “You’re gonna be an amazing father one day, Oscar. I know God has big plans for you. I just know it.” She smiled at him.

“Mother’s instinct?” He said with a shaky voice, tears welling up in his eyes for the first time since the baby had been born.

“Yeah, something like that.” She shook her head, giggling at the ongoing joke that she’d probably never hear the end of.

•••

“Cesar, support the neck, mano.” Oscar instructed his brother softly over his shoulder making sure he didn’t drop their nephew the first time holding him.

“Like this?” Cesar put a palm under his neck making the baby grin, “Look! He’s smiling at me. We’re gonna be best friends.” He spoke to the little boy in his arms.

It was their first day home from the hospital and they were a little bit nervous if they were being honest.

“He’s so cute. Like a little chicken nugget. Could just eat him up.” Jamal cooed at the baby from next to Cesar.

Oscar glared at him as he spoke, making him shut up immediately. Her son had become a superstar the moment they got home, everyone wanting to see him and hold him all at once.

“Yo, can you look after him for a second? I gotta talk to her—“ Jose’s hushed tone made Oscar turn his head towards him.

“Go ahead, I got him.” Oscar made sure the baby was safe, shooing his compa away.

“Nena, come ‘ere.” Jose grabbed her hand in his, pulling her down the hall of the Diaz residence to her room.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned him, eyebrows furrowing in concern as he sat on the edge of her bed pulling her between his legs.

“I just wanna talk, me and you. I wanna apologize about the other night. I know, and you don’t have to deny it, that it broke your heart when I wasn’t there by your side for the birth of our son. I would do anything to go back to that moment and do it over again.” He breathed out, his thumb rubbing the back of her knuckles softly, specifically the spot where the beautiful diamond engagement ring rested on her finger.

She stared at him, eyes focusing on the cut above his brow and the bruise on his handsome jawline, rubbing her thumb across his cheekbone softly before speaking again.

“Jose, I already told you, it doesn’t matter. You can’t change the past so let’s look forward to the future. You can be there for the next one. And the one after that. And then the one after that—“ She giggled at the way his expression changed, squeezing her hip telling her to slow it down.

“I love you. Por siempre. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.” He reached an arm up behind her neck to bring her lips to his as she moved to straddle his waist, resting her head against his chest hearing his heartbeat under her palm.

“I love you.” She closed her eyes, reveling in the way his heart pounded faster in his chest at her confession.

“Y’know Oscar’s really good with baby boy. He’s like— a nanny or something in another life.” Jose couldn’t help but confess, chuckling slightly.

She laughed loudly at the statement, bracing herself on his shoulders, “Honestly, if he can put our son to sleep on nights that we need breaks, he can be whoever he wants to be.”

#sad eyes imagine #sad eyes #on my block #steve villegas #on my block imagine #on my block oneshot

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hyperpsychomaniac · 3 years

Text

Who Says You Can't Go Home - Chapter 5

Darkwing Duck (90s series) fanfiction

Sequel to my recent fanfic The Other Side of Me

Summary: Down on his luck, the Negaverse Launchpad crashes at Launchpad’s parents looking for help. Launchpad, who has avoided visiting his family since he started working with Darkwing, returns in a panic to ensure his double isn’t causing trouble. And then it gets awkward.

Chapter 1

***

“Why aren’t the rivets with the rivet gun?”

“Because they’re fasteners. Not a tool. And you think you’ve got it hard? I think he’s arranged the sealants by… viscosity?”

“Viva what?” Launchpad slammed the doors to the tool cupboard he’d been riffling through, and moved onto the next. Despite the organisation of their parents’ hanger, finding the right parts they needed, without leaving anything behind and as quickly as possible, proved a challenge. “And what ever happened to using chewing gum?”

“Wrong viscosity. Hurry it up. We’ve got to get out there, rivet back up the strut, seal the wing and let the sealant dry…”

“It can dry as we tow it. This would be easier if we could just bring it straight back and fix it in the hanger.”

“Do you want to explain what happened?”

Launchpad gritted his teeth. “Finally, fasteners! And no, I don’t.” He jammed his hand into the box containing the right sized rivets, and pulled out a fistful. A couple bounced out and found their way into nearby containers. He stepped back and pushed the rivets around in his hands, counting to make sure he had enough along with a couple spares. “I wish you’d never convinced me to fly through that damned canyon.”

“You flew where?!”

Launchpad spun around and threw himself back into the cupboard, slamming the doors closed behind him. The entire thing rocked under the impact of his weight. Inside, the clatter of hundreds of airborne fasteners bounced around and off the metal walls. The rivets he’d held scattered across the floor.

Ripcord McQuack’s gaze trailed one of the unfortunate rivets across the floor, then snapped back up to Launchpad. “You went to… the canyon?”

Loopey sidled up beside him. “Told you. Deja vu.”

“Launchpad! Answer me!”

“I… yes?” What else was he supposed to say?

Ripcord’s chest heaved. “I told you kids you were never allowed to fly there.”

“Dad, calm down,” said Loopey. “We’re not kids anymore, remember?”

“Then how come I find you two riffling through everything like a couple teenagers and creating a mess?”

Launchpad exchanged a look with his sister.

“Launchpad!”

“Why am I the one getting yelled at? We just had a… minor…”

Ripcord looked around the hanger. “Loopey, where is your plane?”

“At the bottom of the canyon. Its fine,” she said quickly. “We’re just going to have to tow it out.”

“You’re here for five minutes and you take your sister…”

Loopey pushed past her brother. “Launchpad didn’t take me anywhere. I’ve been to the canyon before. You know, when I come and visit and go out flying by myself and decide where I’m going like an adult is supposed to?”

Ripcord swallowed hard. “You’ve… Launchpad could’ve, you could’ve… don’t you think I told you not to go there for a reason?”

“Yes, but what reason?” Loopey threw her arms out wide. Launchpad let her talk. She was getting through to Dad a lot better than he would’ve. He was taking her more seriously too. Launchpad should’ve been mad but he just wanted this to be over. “You’ve told us not to go there, but you have never, ever, told us why. We’re adults now. If you don’t want us to do something just tell us the reason. We’ll listen to you. But you can’t expect us to do what you say, with no explanation.”

“Okay, fine, I’m overreacting. Just tell me what happened.”

“I broke a strut on the canyon wall. We figured we…”

Ripcord paled. “What?”

Launchpad wasn’t letting Loopey get in trouble for this one. He stepped up and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Dad, it’s not her fault. I got too close on top of her; she didn’t have room to move.”

“You were right on top of each other? What the hell were you doing in there?”

Launchpad swallowed. “Racing.”

Ripcord squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “You have no idea how stupid that was. Anything goes wrong in there and there is nothing you can do…”

“That’s not true. Loopey landed the plane just fine, and…”

“Enough! Just forget it. If you’re going to act like children, you’re both bloody grounded.”

Launchpad rolled his eyes. “You can’t actually ground us anymore.”

“Want to bet? I’m not talking about sending you to your rooms. I mean literally. These are mine and your mother’s planes. We decide who flys them. And for the rest of this visit that doesn’t include either of you.” Ripcord stomped over to the jeep and began rearranging the tools the siblings had already haphazardly packed. “Don’t worry about your mess. I’ll clean it up myself.”

Launchpad felt heat rise in his cheeks, but he kept his beak firmly shut. He was way too old to be grounded. But arguing would just make him sound even more childish. He was done with that for this visit.

Beside him, Loopey folded her arms across her chest. She also looked a little flushed. “What the actual heck? We’ve all flown in tight spaces plenty of times before, done dangerous stunts... And I thought I’d never have to hear another grounded pun again.”

Launchpad watched his father rifle through the jeep with his back to his kids. He was going to go get that plane all by himself. However bad he was reacting, that wasn’t his fault. And however innocent it had been, racing through that spot had been pretty dumb. “I’ll go out with him. It’s kind of my fault.”

“Not completely.”

“I know,” he smiled at his sister faintly. “Speed demon. Go on, don’t worry about this. I should spend some time with him anyway.”

“Thanks, big brother. Good luck.”

Launchpad sidled over to his father. “Dad, I’ll come with you. You’re going to need help.”

Ripcord straightened, rubbed at the corner of his eye, then turned to face his son. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You want to fly like a maniac, that’s your business. But when you’re flying with someone else you’ve got a responsibility for them too, especially if they’re family.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Do you want my help or not?”

Ripcord swallowed. “It’s going to be a long drive. Sure you want to spend that amount of time with me?”

That look in his father’s eye. It was trying to be anger, but there was something deeper, more desperate. He’d definitely put this off way too long. “Yeah, Dad.”

***

The jeep bounced and rattled across the dirt track as they started the trek out to the canyon. Ripcord drove, one hand on the steering wheel. He was the first to break the silence. “I should probably let you know, Gosalyn was mucking around with… Launchpad… she hit her head. She’s okay!” he said quickly, when Launchpad jerked up from his slouch in the passenger seat. “I’m pretty sure her dad can take care of her. Just thought you should know.”

Launchpad huffed. “It wouldn’t be the first time she’s done it. What did Launchpad do?”

Ripcord shrugged. “Whatever it was he felt pretty bad about it. He wouldn’t have meant to hurt her. Kids… stuff happens… it’s not his fault.”

“As long as she’s okay.”

“You really care about those two, don’t you?”

Launchpad groaned. “We’re not dating!”

Ripcord smirked. “I know. I think your mother does too. But can you blame her? You’ve been so secretive.” The smirk slipped from his beak. “Me and your Mom, we’re sorry for lying to you. It’s just that we haven’t seen you in so long. And you’ll talk to your Mom on the phone. But you always seem to manage to hang up before I get there. And, well, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something anyway and I wanted to do it in person.”

“I’m not trying to avoid you. It’s just… complicated…”

Ripcord glanced across at him, and Launchpad dropped his gaze to his lap. His father smiled faintly. “It’s okay. I’ve got a pretty good idea what’s going on.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t.” How was he supposed to tell his parents about Darkwing Duck? He had to tell them something. But he hadn’t talked to DW about this, so he didn’t even know what would be okay to share. He didn’t want to put his friend in a spot. He had his secret identify for a reason.

“Launchpad, I get, it really, I…” Ripcord huffed. “Okay. You don’t think it was weird for us having a guy that looked exactly like you crash onto our doorstep, bleeding and begging for help?”

The Negaverse Launchpad. It was certainly a safer topic. “Yeah, what happened to him?”

“He crashed in here with a broken arm, near exhaustion. Told us, once he’d woken up, that he’d gotten involved with air pirates. He was a bit of a mess. When he woke up he was throwing punches at doctors and I thought I was going to have to sit on him or something. Until your mother calmed him down. I guess he didn’t expect us to take him to a hospital and all that attention actually scared him. Since he left Saint Canard he’s just been butting around, not knowing what to do with himself. He didn’t just come to us because he was hurt. He was at the end of his rope and he needed someplace where he’d feel safe, with people he knew he could trust.”

Launchpad had set him up with a plane but then he’d left him to his own devices. Those two weeks they’d spent together, his double had been an wreck for most of it, as he’d progressively worked up the courage to tell him more stuff about Negaduck. He’d only started to pull himself out of it once the plane had started to come together. It had been naive to assume he’d be alright out here by himself. “I told him to stay away from Saint Canard. I guess he thought he had no place else he could turn. Guess I didn’t help him as much as I thought.”

“Son, he can’t stop talking about how much you helped him and how you made him that aeroplane. Its weird, one moment he’s trying to fight your mother’s plants, and then he’s getting all excited about that scrap heap you built. You helped him plenty. But he was on our doorstep, hurt… I think, at that point, seeing him like that, we…” he gulped, then shook himself a little. “We thought of you. We just went into full blown parenting mode. But after, well, we started asking questions. He told us about the Negaverse.”

Launchpad nodded. “And Negaduck?”

Ripcord’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Oh, yeah. And Negaduck. I tell you, if I ever get my hands on that manipulative piece of work…”

“Dad, do not mess with Negaduck.”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Follow what I’m saying here. Launchpad explained where he came from. That he’s your twin from another universe. He told us he works for Negaduck, and that Negaduck is the twin of Darkwing Duck, you know, infamous vigilante from Saint Canard.”

“Yeah…”

Ripcord sighed. “He had to explain how you guys met. Launchpad, I know you’ve been flying a plane for Darkwing Duck.”

It was everything he’d been trying to figure out how to explain and he hadn’t known how to tell his father and then it was just… done… over… and… he still didn’t know if too much had been revealed. Launchpad sunk into his seat and put his face in his hands.

“That’s why you haven’t come to visit, isn’t it? Look, I get some of its got to be secret stuff. But if this Darkwing Duck has been bullying you, or…”

“Wait, wait,” Launchpad jerked up in his seat. “He only told you that I worked for Darkwing… that’s it?”

“That you were his pilot. I think he caught on pretty quickly that we actually had no idea that’s what you were doing. So, yeah, that’s all he said. And I get that there’s identities that need to remain secret, assuming you even know that…”

Some of the tension left Launchpad’s shoulders. The Negaverse Launchpad had to tell them something. He should’ve figured that. But it looked like he’d been smart enough to keep Drake out of it. His parents knew about Darkwing Duck. They just didn’t know he was also living with the guy and doing his groceries.

“Launchpad, look at me.” His father grabbed him by the shoulder, his fingers digging in, and the jeep rumbled to a halt. “You don’t have to share everything about this. It’d be the same if you were working for the government, or any other place where there might be confidentiality agreements, or… we don’t expect that of you. But I just want to know one thing.”

Launchpad put his hand over his father’s, if only to loosen his grip. “Sure, Dad.”

“The whole Negaverse thing, there’s parallels to it.”

“You mean how everyone’s opposite?”

Ripcord shook his head. “No. Not opposites. I see a lot of you in that other Launchpad. I think you did as well. And, I guess that’s why I’m worried. You and Launchpad. Negaduck and Darkwing. You’ve both worked for them. But, some of the stories Launchpad has told me about Negaduck…”

“He told them to me as well. I know.”

“I just want to know if Darkwing has ever hurt you. Because if he has I’ll pack up my shotgun right now and…”

“What? No…” Launchpad pulled back. “he’s not Negaduck.”

“He hasn’t forbid you to come see us? Or just made you feel that you can’t? Or threatened to hurt you if you reveal to much about him, or… anything, Launchpad, you just have to tell us.”

“Dad, I said no!” said Launchpad, a growl creeping into his voice. “DW’s a good guy, and besides, he’s my friend. He’s difficult, and he’s got an ego, but he’d never do anything like that.”

“Then why haven’t you said anything about working with him before?”

“He never told me I couldn’t. I just… I never brought it up properly with him.” Launchpad slumped back in his seat as he heard his own words. Yeah, DW was difficult. And any conversation about him telling his parents anything would result in DW stressing out, probably overreacting a bit, but… he would eventually come around. And he would’ve told him exactly how much information he was comfortable for his sidekick to share. He’d never actually stopped him. In fact, every time his mother had called, Drake had always pushed Launchpad to talk to her.

“Oh. Okay.” Ripcord put the jeep in gear and pulled off. After a few moments, he spoke again. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk to your dad about what you’re doing anymore. But, we’re still proud of you, okay? Even without the superhero sidekick stuff. Drake and Gosalyn… being a single parent is tough. The fact you’re helping Drake around the house, and being there for Gosalyn, not a lot of people would do that. And after how bad the other Launchpad hurt you,” he reached out, and gently squeezed Launchpad arm, “to still go and help him when no one else would, that took a lot of guts.”

Launchpad rested his head against the window, unable to look at his father, and watched the rocks and withered trees rumble by. Sure, he’d been there for Drake, and Gosalyn, and the other Launchpad. But he hadn’t tried hard enough to just do something as simple as have a difficult conversation with DW, so they could get their story straight, and he could come see his Mom and Dad.

“I just… wish I didn’t have to lie to you to see you. I miss you.”

Launchpad squeezed his eyes shut tight.

***

The doctor arrived within half an hour, pronounced Gosalyn ‘mostly fine’, and then told them to keep an eye on her and not let her nap until it was evening. Then Mrs McQuack pulled Launchpad aside and asked him what had really happened. He told her the truth. About the potato gun anyway. He wasn’t really lying, leaving out Negaduck. Negaduck hadn’t had anything to do with what happened to Gosalyn.

Birdie patted him on the shoulder and told him he needed to ‘be careful with that thing’, especially if he was playing with a kid, and that maybe it was best if he left it alone until the Mallards left. Heck, she’d been angrier about her stinking rose bushes. But that was probably more to do with the mood he’d been in at the time.

Truth be told, Launchpad had expected everyone’s reaction to what he’d done to Gosalyn to be much worse. Even Drake, though he’d been shooting him glares all day, had eventually left him alone in front of the television with his daughter. Although, Launchpad was pretty sure that was because he’d finally got stressed out sitting with his daughter most of the day, and couldn’t take watching the cartoons she’d pronounced were the only sure fire way to keep her awake.

It was the longest, most stressful afternoon of Launchpad’s life. And not because Gosalyn kept trying to bully him into bringing her snacks. Negaduck’s ultimatum hung in his mind like heavy fog. It wasn’t that he was conflicted about the choice he had made. He just wasn’t sure he was strong enough to pull it off.

Launchpad tapped his foot on the ground; he needed a cigarette. Mrs McQuack had been trying to get him to cut down and the one he usually had in the morning had lately been enough, but not today. Besides, he’d left them all in a heap outside his shack after Gosalyn had startled him.

“You’re as bad as Launchpad.”

“I am Launchpad.”

“No, I mean the real one. You’re shaking the whole sofa.”

“I’m keeping you awake.”

“Hello, that’s what the cartoons are for?” Gosalyn waved at the television.

“This drivel? It’s unrealistic. You hit a cat with a hammer it doesn’t make little stars, it just…” Launchpad folded his arms with a harrumph.

Gosalyn leaned forward to check no one was in the next room, then lowered her voice. “You’re worried about Negaduck. We should tell Dad.”

“We can’t. Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of it.” Launchpad stood to his feet. It was nearing sundown; Negaduck’s decision time. But first, he was going to collect some tools from the hanger. He’d give Negaduck his decision alright, and he was going to make it bloody clear.

Gosalyn glared up at him. “I should come with you. But I still feel a little dizzy so it might not be a good idea. Just be careful. If you get hurt, I’m going to be mad. And if you take too long, I’m telling Dad. I don’t care what I promised.”

Launchpad waited for a second. “Aren’t you going to ask what I’m going to do?”

“Is what you’re going to do appropriate to tell a kid… oh, are you going to hit him with a bat or something, or just punch his face in? Or, you know, worse?”

Launchpad huffed and rolled his eyes. “I meant about… he asked me to join him. He wants me to kill your dad. Which I already tried to do once.”

“But you were different then. And you told me that story…”

“I could’ve been lying.”

“I don’t think you’re smart enough to make up a story like that.”

“I…” Launchpad’s shoulders sagged. “Aw, kid. You know how many faces I’ve smashed in for calling me stupid?”

Gosalyn stood up on the sofa so she could look him in the eye. “I know he’s hurt you. But you can still beat him.”

Launchpad swallowed hard. Damn this kid. “How do you know that?”

Gosalyn grabbed him by the collar. “I know because you’re Launchpad McQuack! And you’re not going to let anybody hurt your family!” Her beak was pressed almost to his, and she glared into his eyes so earnestly, almost angrily.

Launchpad’s gaze hardened. “Cover for me? They won’t be suspicious. I do this sometimes; wander off at night.”

“I’ve got your back.”

“Good on ya, kiddo.”

Launchpad made his way over to the McQuack’s hanger. A crowbar was always a good go-to. But maybe he should find something bigger, and sharper. You never knew with Negaduck. Sometimes it didn’t matter what weapon you had.

Inside, the lights were on. Launchpad made his way straight to the tool board. At first, he’d found the place nauseatingly tidy. But after helping the McQuack’s out with some repairs, he had to admit, it was nice to be able to find stuff. That would’ve been the last thing he needed today, stressing about digging through tools when he just wanted to grab what he wanted and go deal with Negaduck.

There was the ping of metal on metal. Launchpad spun around and brandished the crowbar.

“Oh, Launchpad, sorry, I thought you realised I was in here.” Loopey sat on the floor, surrounded by a half dozen containers filled with bolts and fasteners. The noise had just been her pegging a bolt into one of the half filled containers, and it was absolutely ridiculous that it had startled him. He really was on edge. She jumped to her feet, picked her way amongst the containers, and came over to him. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to chat.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Loopey frowned at the crowbar. “Now, what are you doing with that?”

“Er…” He’d almost forgotten that most people in this dimension didn’t routinely carry around weapons, and here he was waving a crowbar in the McQuack’s daughter’s face. Still, most people in both dimensions wouldn’t bounce right up to him when he had a weapon in hand. “Um… was going to knock some… heads off flowers. Sometimes I need to blow off steam.”

“Ah,” said Loopey, as if that had been a perfectly rational answer. “Just don’t mess with anything in Mom’s garden.”

Launchpad winced. “Yeah, I’ll only make that mistake once.”

She had her arms folded, looking at him, trying to figure him out. She seemed far too calm. His own sister would’ve been swinging her fist in his face, just like the last time he’d seen her.

“You burned your planes? For him.”

He’d caught her fist. Laughed.

“I am so glad Mom and Dad aren’t here to see what you’ve become.”

“They were weak. Negaduck isn’t.” And then he’d thrown that punch right back.

Loopey lightly brushed his sleeve. “Hey, you okay?”

Launchpad shook himself. He had to deal with Negaduck. But he wanted to talk to Loopey. It was just like what he’d felt with Gosalyn; he wanted to connect with her. It wouldn’t make up for anything with his own sister. But, shit. He missed her. “Er… what are you doing in here anyway?” Launchpad waved the crowbar towards the containers.

“Launchpad crashed into the cupboard, typical, and messed them all up. But he’s out with Dad and…” Loopey rubbed at her arm. “We crashed one of the planes. They’re out there now to bring it in… and… well, Dad seemed a bit upset. I didn’t want to leave this for him to clean up. So, you got a spunky little sister over in this Negaverse place?”

One who hated him so much he’d never be able to speak to her, like this, again. “We haven’t spoken in years.”

“Oh. What about your parents?”

Rougher around the edges then the McQuacks he’d spent the last two months with. Still good people, by Negaverse standards. He and his sister would’ve never hit each other like that when they’d been alive. You only fought if you’d both agreed you were sparring, because a family had to have some way to blow off steam when they were pissed at each other. Other people? Fine. If you knew you needed to smack them one you just did it. But not family. They were your backup, your protection. You treated them with some respect. “They’re dead.”

Loopey winced. “Oh, did this Negaduck guy…?”

Launchpad shook his head. “Nothing to do with him. The Negaverse is just a rough place.” And he’d actually been angry with them, just for not being tough enough to take on the air pirates that had challenged them for their air space. It had been ridiculously immature of him, and he’d figured that out, as he got older, before he even left the Negaverse. When things had come to a head, two planes had taken down nearly a dozen pirate fighter planes between them, until the pirates finally shot down the Negaverse’s Ripcord McQuack. And then Birdie McQuack had flown her plane straight into the main engine of the pirate airship and brought the whole thing down with her. What his parents had done had been borderline legendary.

But they were still dead. And Launchpad had decided that was because they hadn’t been strong enough. Despite how much they relied on and protected each other, when they’d been outnumbered, it wasn’t enough. Allying in yourself to just anyone, no matter how much you trusted them, was not enough. You needed to ally yourself to someone strong. Like the guy who had singlehandedly brought the chaotic and dangerous Negaverse to its knees and declared himself its ruler.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re Mom and Dad didn’t even know me. But they’ve been everything I needed right now. Them and your brother…” Launchpad gulped at the lump that had risen to his throat. Negaduck hadn’t given him the safety he’d been looking for. How he’d treated him had been a poor exchange for his protection. Then he’d come over here. And the McQuacks may not have had the strength he thought he needed, but they’d given him what Negaduck never had and didn’t ask for anything in return. Apart from refraining from ripping up their garden.

Now Negaduck was here to take that all away from him. Launchpad’s fist tightened around the crowbar.

“They’re pretty great, aren’t they? Look, if you want to talk some more, you don’t have to go assault plants. You could help me, er…” Loopey’s shoulders slumped. “Sort fasteners.”

Launchpad forced a smile. “Raincheck?”

“Pft. Coward.” Loopey blinked as she caught herself. “Um, sorry. I talk like this to my brother all the time. You realise this is very confusing, right?”

At least he wasn’t the only one getting mixed up feelings about his actual family mixed in with the ones he was starting to develop for this one. “Yeah, I get it. But we can talk later. I really just need to… blow off some steam.”

“Later.”

The Gator was parked outside. Launchpad swung himself in, grabbed the seatbelt, then let it slide back as he remembered he wasn’t riding with Mr McQuack. He put the machine in drive and tore down the hill as fast as he could.

They might not be his family. But he was attached. And for once, that no longer felt like a weakness. If only he’d worked that out back in the Negaverse with Gosalyn, and with his sister. He may have blown his chances back home, but he would not fail this time.

Negaduck was going to pay.

***

Chapter 6

#darkwing #darkwing duck #darkwing fanfiction #darkwing duck fanfiction #launchpad #negalaunchpad #nega launchpad #launchpad mcquack #negaduck #dwd #dwd91 #darkwing duck 1991 #disney ducks

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP: CHAPTER 7

cw: cursing, panic attack, anger, nonsexual nudity, extremely dubious/lacking morals, nonspecific mentions of unethical experimentation/vivisection, threats of violence towards loved ones, past child abandonment, nonspecific death threat mention, non-specific mention of human experimentation

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // read it on ao3!

word count: 7821

Logan cannot stop staring at his legs.

They’re so strange.

He pokes them with his finger, and then he pokes them again. And then he pokes them again, just for good measure, because what the fuck. They’re long and strange and the same color as his arms, which is weird, and instead of fins they end in weird, flat hands with small, flat, useless fingers, which is weirder. He can wiggle them if he really tries, but he doesn’t have anywhere near the same range of motion as he does with his hands.

He hates it.

Virgil quickly dumps his brother into the tank and hurries off, presumably to get his father and the other human, and Roman quickly pushes up above the edge of the tank. “Logan?! Are you okay?!”

Logan is shaking. “Roman, what’s happening to me?! Why am I like this?! I look like a human , I don’t understand - what’s happening?!”

“Sharkbait, hey, hey, breathe, it’s okay!” Roman reaches out and grips his hands tightly. “Sharkbait, you’re gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m right here and so’s Dad. The humans are bringing Dad right now, he’ll know what’s happening, he’ll sort all this out and you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine , okay?”

“What if this is permanent?! What if I never get my tail back?! What if I have to stay on land forever?!” Roman’s eyes blow wide with horror, and Logan feels his chest begin to tighten and seize up.

“That - no, that’s not going to happen, Lo,” Roman says. “We’re going to save you. We’re going to bring you back to us. We’re not losing you. We’re not, do you hear me?”

He sounds completely convinced. Logan isn’t convinced at all, but seeing his brother’s conviction still reassures him. He grabs at his brother’s hands, trying desperately to hold on to this little piece of his family. “I . . . I -!”

“Hey, shhhhhh, don’t worry. I’m here, I’m here. Dad’s coming, and I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.” Roman leans up to press his soaking forehead against Logan’s newly dry one, and Logan leans into the soft touch. “I’m here. You’re our pod, Sharkbait. Even if the human legs are permanent, we’re not gonna just ditch you. You’re my brother. You and Dad are the only family that I have left anymore.”

“You and Dad are the only family I have ever had,” Logan says. He can feel a strange type of water on his cheeks, and when he touches his face he realizes that he’s leaking too, just like Virgil had been earlier.

“We’re not abandoning you.”

Something clatters in the hallway, and he whirls around. Roman’s spines stiffen and flare out defensively, and Logan tries to prepare himself to flood the room with electricity before realizing with a sudden sinking feeling that he no longer has his electricity. He’s completely defenseless if he gets attacked right now.

He thanks the Seven Mother Goddesses when he realizes that it’s just Virgil and the other human, coming with his dad in one of those little mobile oceans. They slide the mobile ocean to a halt next to Roman’s tank, and Patton launches himself in with a splash before reaching up to touch Logan’s hand.

“Dad . . .” Logan says. He hates the way his voice trembles. “Dad, I . . . wh . . . what’s happening to me?”

Oh, guppy, his dad says. I never wanted you to find out this way.

“Wh - what? What do you mean, find out this way, Dad? What am I supposed to find out?”

“Um, would someone care to fill us in, please?” Virgil asks. Roman starts to translate for them, but everything that isn’t his dad’s voice fades away to static buzz in Logan’s ears.

You weren’t born a mer. Not like Roman was, guppy. Haven’t you ever wondered why you only have one set of these? His dad’s gills flare out as he breathes, and Logan’s vision begins to blur.

“Wh . . . what?”

You were born as a human. You had a normal human life with normal human parents and a normal human family. But you were killed at sea, and your body was thrown into the ocean. It must have been a full moon, and the Seven Mother Goddesses must have taken pity on you and transformed you into a mer. It is rare, but I have heard of it happening. I had thought that you would spend your whole life in the ocean, and never know of your true origin, but it did not turn out that way.

“I . . . I used to be . . . a what?”

Roman’s eyes are wide, jaw slack. “You . . . Sharkbait, Dad says . . . he says . . . you were a . . . a human . . .”

“What?” Virgil whispers, eyes wide. “That . . . what?”

Logan stares at his father. The water rippling above his face creates a distortion, but Logan swears that his father looks sad. Regretful.

I am so sorry, guppy. When we found you, you were miserable. I knew that telling you what you had lost would only make you more so. I did not want that for you. I have never wanted that for you. For either of you .

Logan runs his free hand down his leg again. It’s one of the weirdest physical sensations he’s ever encountered. “I . . . I used to be . . . human?”

Not for centuries, guppy. You have been mer for far longer than you were ever human.

Roman stares at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Logan reaches for his brother, and Roman hesitates for just a moment before reaching back to take his hand.

That moment is enough to break Logan’s heart.

“Are - will you kick me out of your pod now?” he says, not even daring to refer to it as his pod. “Since I am not a real -”

A loud, furious screech rises up from the tank where his father is, and Logan gasps when he sees all of the little lights on the edges of his fins begin to flare so brightly he can’t bear to look. Roman shields his eyes, and Logan notices the two humans ducking down. Thomas throws his body over Virgil’s protectively, and the water in the tank begins to churn.

DO NOT EVER PRESUME TO UTTER SUCH BLASPHEMIES AGAINST ME AGAIN, his father thunders, water surging up around him in a column as he rises up. YOU ARE MY SON, AND ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU OTHERWISE WILL FACE AN UNTIMELY END AT MY HANDS. The captured stars that illuminate the room begin to flicker, and Logan hears the humans whimper.

“Dad! Dad, you have to calm down!” Logan shouts. “Please!”

The figure in the column turns its glowing eyes on him, and Logan reaches a hand up. He doesn’t know if he can still speak his native tongue in this fragile human body, but he’s sure as hell going to try.

“Dad! Please!” His voice is harsh and grating, and when he tries to speak his words all come out mangled and broken. “No fight! Stop! Please!”

The water hovers in the air for only a moment more before abruptly falling back into the tank. His father coils around the bottom of the tank, regretful. I am sorry, guppy. I did not mean to get so . . . out of sorts.

“It’s alright, Dad,” Logan says.

You and your brother are my pod. You are my guppies. I have known you since you were no bigger than my fin. I will not allow anything to threaten or harm you. You will always be a part of my pod, no matter what happens.

“Are you alright?” Thomas asks, still crouched protectively over Virgil. “Logan, is your dad okay?”

“Yes, Thomas, he is.”

Apologize to him for me?

“He apologizes for terrifying you. It was not his intention. He simply gets . . . protective.”

“Understandable,” Thomas shrugs. “I get the same way around my protege here.”

“Doc!” Virgil hisses, face rapidly turning that strange red color humans sometimes turn. Logan notices that Virgil refuses to look at him, and he frowns. It feels as though his heart has been replaced with a sea urchin.

“Are you upset with me, Virgil?” he says.

Virgil blinks. “What? Why would you think that?”

“You are not looking at me. You have not looked at me since I gained these human appendages. Have I angered you in some way? I do not understand, but I apologize for whatever I have done to -”

“No!” Virgil yelps. “God - no, Lo, I’m not mad at you,” he says. “I’m not mad, I promise. I’m sorry, I’m not mad, I just - you - you’re not wearing any clothes.”

“What is ‘clothes’?” Roman asks. Virgil tugs at the coverings he wears. “Logan hasn’t worn those since he’s been here! None of us have!”

“Yeah, but you guys aren’t - your lower halves - I -”

Logan blinks. “You are referring to my exposed genitalia?”

Virgil turns even redder and makes a very strange squeaking noise, burying his face in his hands. “Yes! You need to put some clothes on, Jesus Christ, where were you even hiding that?!”

“We have an area in our -”

“It was a rhetorical question and I very much do not want to know the answer!” Virgil shrieks.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” Thomas says. “Virgil, can you -”

“I will go get the clothing!” Virgil says immediately, standing up and staring very fixedly at the floor. “I will get the clothing. I will go now.”

“Get him a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt, okay?” Virgil nods, hurrying out of the lab as fast as Logan has ever seen him move. Logan squints after him as he goes. “Are you okay, Logan?”

“I find that my vision is somewhat impaired,” Logan says. “I do not like this.” Thomas makes one of those strange human thinking noises and peers at Logan closely. Logan does his best not to flinch away from Thomas, peering back at him. Roman growls at Thomas’s proximity to Logan, but Logan doesn’t protest.

“You had electroreception to help you see, right?”

“That is correct.”

“You don’t have it anymore, do you?”

“I do not currently have access to my electricity.” Thomas makes another thinking noise and pulls a small white object from his pocket. It looks like the thing that Virgil makes his draws on, but when Thomas produces his stick he doesn’t make draws. He makes interesting-looking squiggles on the white thing.

“I wonder if glasses would help you,” Thomas says. “We’ll have to explore that later, depending on how long you’re human like this.” Logan looks at his dad as a sudden burst of terror spikes through his chest. He hadn’t considered that this might last.

“How - how long will I be like this, Dad?” he asks. Roman is staring at their father with a terrified anger painted openly across his face. “Will this be permanent? Will I have to stay here without you?”

“Never,” Roman snarls, spines ruffling and standing on end. “I don’t care if you have legs forever, there’s no way I’m leaving you here with these humans! You’re not a human, you’re my brother!” Logan looks at his Dad, refusing to look anywhere else. He wants to hear the answer more than anything. He never wants to hear the answer.

It has been a long time since I encountered a human-mer that changed frequently, his father says wearily. My memory of those times is fading now. Logan forgets, sometimes, how old their father is. But if my memories are correct, you will retain this form irreversibly for a full day and night. After that, you will regrow your tail and gills when you touch the water of the sea. Once you fully dry, your legs will return.

“What did he say?” Thomas asks gently. Logan feels something wet on his face, and lifts his hand up to feel it. “Are you okay? You’re crying.”

“Is that what this is?” Logan asks. His voice sounds thick and far away, distant to his own ears. “I . . . I am leaking?”

“You’re crying,” Thomas says. “It’s what humans do when we have so much emotion we don’t know how to express it properly. You’ll be alright.” He gently touches Logan’s shoulder, and such a simple gesture should send sparks shooting through Logan as though he’s accidentally shocked himself, but it does. “What did your dad say?”

“I - I will have these legs for a full day and night. After that, touching seawater will allow me to regrow my tail, and drying completely will allow me to grow legs again.” Thomas smiles, broad and happy, flashing his teeth as he squeezes his shoulder.

“That’s amazing! So you’ll be able to rejoin your family and go home once your injuries heal, that’s good!”

“What’s good?” Virgil calls, hurrying down the stairs with a bundle of strange objects in his arms. Thomas takes them from him, shaking them out and laying them over one of the nearby tables.

“Logan’s gonna have his legs for a day, and then he’ll get his tail when he touches salt water. Once he completely dries off, he’ll get his legs back.” Virgil smiles at that, cheeks still pink, and Logan has to stop himself from reaching out to touch him.

“That’s good. I’m glad he’ll get his tail back. But for now, we should get him into some clothes.”

“Agreed. Logan, can you stand up?” Logan blinks at Thomas.

“Can I . . . what?”

Thomas gestures to the way he and Virgil are currently positioned. “Stand up, like this. Can you do that?” Logan tilts his head, frowning at the humans. They both move so easily through the air, the way that he and Roman and their dad move through the water. Logan’s never tried to do anything like that before - he’s never had legs before, no reason to think he would ever have them. But now that he has them, now that he’s stuck with them for at least the foreseeable future, doesn’t he owe it to himself to at least try?

Something presses close in the back of his mind, sliding into the front and winding its way around his train of thought like an eel, like a tangled piece of seaweed, like the tentacles of an enormous squid: if he grows legs again and learns to use them properly, there is potential to come and visit these humans again, to visit Virgil again, and he cannot shake the way his entire body lights up with electric fire at the thought of regular visits and Virgil teaching him to make more draws and Virgil’s smile and Virgil’s quiet, stifled laughter and Virgil’s everything -

Logan’s not used to having two appendages below the waist. He’s used to just his tail, which moves all at once in a smooth, fluid motion. When he tries to turn, he’s shocked to see that the leg on the right moves, but the one on the left does not. There’s a painful tugging sensation between them when he spreads them too far apart, so he carefully moves his other leg. They swing over the edge of the table, dangling the way his tail sometimes does, and experimentally leans forward.

The weird hands at the end of his legs touch the ground, and Logan frowns at the sensation. It’s cold, smooth stone - no, not stone, something else, something hard and smooth but decidedly not stone, something human-made - and he shivers a little. He’s unsure how to proceed until Thomas sits down next to him.

“You’ve never stood up before, have you?”

“I have never had legs before, to my knowledge. I mean . . . I must have had them when I was a human, but . . . but I do not remember that time.”

“Not at all?” Virgil asks. He’s looking in Logan’s direction now, although his eyes appear to be fixated somewhere above Logan’s head. “Nothing of your human life?”

“No,” Logan says softly. “I have no memories of my human life. I did not even know I had a human life, before recently.” Virgil makes a noise that might be sad, might be angry, might be confused, might be a million different things. Before Logan can even blink, Virgil is standing in front of him, holding his hands out, eyes staring straight into Logan’s.

“Here,” he says softly.

“Here what?”

“Here, take my hands. I’ll help you.”

Logan hesitates for only a moment before reaching up and placing his hands into Virgil’s. His hands are broad and warm, and there are rough patches around his fingers and the parts of his hand where they connect, but they’re also soft and comforting. He squeezes Logan’s hands and smiles gently at him. “You’re gonna be alright,” he says softly. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall and get hurt. Well, more than you already are, anyway.” Virgil huffs out a soft laugh and takes a step backward, pulling Logan along.

Logan manages to stand for a few precious, wobbly seconds, holding Virgil’s hands tightly all the while, before wobbling and pitching forward. Virgil surges toward him, and Logan closes his eyes to brace himself for an imminent collision with the floor.

Instead, his face presses into something soft and warm and still strong, and arms wrap around him, and he hears Virgil make a soft, almost wounded noise. “Gotcha!” Logan opens his eyes to find himself slumped against Virgil, having all but collapsed into him, and Virgil’s arms are wound around him tightly. Logan looks up, and Virgil’s face is close, closer than it’s ever been. His eyes are bright and wide, and his little brown face scales (what had Virgil called them? Freckles?) are prominent against the pink of his cheeks, and his mouth is open in a soft little pink round shape that Logan wants more than anything to touch.

They stare at each other for a time that could be forever or fantastically short. Suddenly, Virgil’s face jumps from pretty pink to burning red, and he begins to sputter. Logan blinks at him, and then he realizes what Virgil has noticed. Virgil’s position is changed now that he’s caught Logan, now that he’s holding Logan, and his hands are dangerously close to Logan’s exposed genitalia.

Virgil pushes forward, shifting Logan’s body along with his own, and Logan lets him without resistance. He lets himself be maneuvered into a standing position, and even though Virgil has returned to not looking at him, he keeps Logan’s hands tightly in his own. “Let’s get some clothes on you before we try walking, okay?”

Logan nods, letting Virgil change and adjust his positioning to keep him steady. Thomas hands something to Virgil, who reaches out and carefully pushes it over Logan’s head. “Here we go . . . let me help you, let me move your arms. This way, through this hole . . . careful, I don’t wanna get your head stuck . . .”

Before Logan knows what’s happening, the clothes has been securely pulled around the upper half of his body. Thomas holds the other clothes, crumpling them up strangely and wrapping a hand around Logan’s leg. “Lift . . . here, through here . . . good, now put that one down, you’re gonna lift the other one . . . whoa, don’t lose your balance now, Virgil, catch him -! There we go, you’re all suited up! Just gotta pull these up, aaaaaand . . . done!”

Logan pulls at the clothes around him. The one over his chest is loose and baggy, and the ones around his new legs pool around the strange flat hands. “What are these?” Logan asks. Virgil touches the clothes over his chest.

“This is a shirt.” His hand travels down to point to the one around his legs. “These are called pants.”

“Oh - thank you, but I - I meant, what are these?” Logan lifts his leg and carefully wiggles the flat hand on the end of it. Virgil tilts his head, leaning down to poke it.

“Your feet?”

“A feet?”

Virgil laughs, and Logan wants to hear that sound forever. “Feet is plural. You have two feet, one foot on each leg.”

“They look like flat hands,” Logan says honestly. “And the fingers are more terrible than my other ones.” Virgil laughs more, one hand coming up to cover his eyes.

“Those are called toes, Logan, they don’t have the dexterity of your fingers. They’re mostly there to help you balance while you walk.”

“I do not know how to do that.”

“What, balance?”

“No. Walk.” Virgil smiles at him, soft as sunshine filtering through the warm spring water.

“I can teach you, if you’re interested. I know you won’t have legs for very long, but -”

“I am,” Logan blurts out. “Interested. Very much so. I dislike being immobile in any context. Would you be so kind as to teach me?”

Virgil smiles, and Logan wants to see that sight forever. “Of course, Logan.”

*~*~*~*~*

“You can see here, ma’am, that our section D nets have been overwhelmingly productive this month. We have acquired many fine specimens and -”

“What of your progress in locating net 17-C?”

“We . . . have not yet located it, ma’am.”

“And are you still trying to locate net 17-C?”

“I . . .”

The scientist quails under the icy weight of her stare. “You do understand that when I specifically request something done, it is because I consider it to be of the highest priority, do you not?”

“I do, ma’am.”

“And you do understand that I am in control, not only of your gainful employment, your livelihood, but also your very life at this present moment.”

“I - I do, ma’am.”

“You have a husband and a young daughter at home, do you not?” She stares at him, and he does his very best not to flinch. He swallows, hard.

“That - that I do.”

“Such a shame, wouldn’t it be, if they were to receive a call that you were never again to come home?”

“It - it certainly would, m - ma’am.”

“Then I suggest you divert all available resources to locating net 17-C. I will not let whatever it captured escape me a second time. I want that net found and I want whatever it captured in my labs as soon as possible, or I will have to make a very unpleasant phone call - well, unpleasant for you, at the very least.”

The scientist nods, swallowing, and watches her walk away, shoes clicking against the floor. He downs what’s left of his morning coffee and pulls up his screen again, combing through drone footage by hand.

She makes her way back to her office, where her secretary waits with a tablet in her hand. “I tire of constantly reminding them their priorities,” she sighs, slumping onto the couch. The secretary smiles sympathetically, pulling up a screen with a string of ominous red text.

“Would you like me to terminate him, ma’am?”

“No, not yet. For all his incompetence, he is a decent scientist, and I do not feel like searching for a replacement. Besides, now that he has been reminded of his proper task, I have hopes that he will perform as expected.”

“Would you like me to update you on the progress of our experiments in the labs, or would you prefer that I continue to monitor the search for net 17-C?”

“There will likely not be news of net 17-C for a while, since I had to kickstart the research myself. Inform me of the progress on my experiments.”

“Of course, ma’am. Let me pull up the data. Which experiment would you prefer to receive an update for first?”

“Oh . . . how is the toxicity of that jelly-pufferfish hybrid coming along? Any promising results?”

“Efficacy appears to have increased by twenty percent since implementing the use of CRISPR technology you recommended, ma’am. You were correct, as always. The final round of animal testing is scheduled for later this week. Is this acceptable, or should we push it forward?”

“Hmmm . . . that timeline is acceptable, for now. Am I correct in assuming that plans are already underway for human trials?”

“I have reached out to the usual suppliers with our demands, ma’am. Still waiting for response.”

“How long?”

“Approximately twelve hours. I anticipate a response before twenty-four.”

“Satisfactory. If you do not receive one within that time frame, you may begin to initiate appropriate measures. On to the next.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The secretary dutifully runs through four or five more experiments in progress, most of which are still in the midst of animal testing, and a few experiments revolving around live specimens in captivity. “That just brings us to the results of the weather analysis you requested.”

“Ah, yes.” She sits up, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “The weather patterns from the night that net 17-C was disrupted. Have you tracked the tidal movement?”

“I have, ma’am.”

“Accounting for wind and wave conditions?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What have you found?” Her eyes burn with the intensity of a supernova, and it is only through experience and practice that the secretary does not flinch under such a sight. She only swipes across the tablet to pull up a map of the shoreline and turns it around.

“With the greatest possible degree of scientific certainty, we believe that this area is the most likely place for net 17-C to have washed up.” Red slashes denote a stretch of beach around three miles long. She hums, poking at the tablet in the secretary’s hand.

“I trust you have done the cursory research? Who owns the property?”

“I encountered a brief legal snafu, but it was nothing I could not overcome. If I am not mistaken, the results should be coming in riiiiiiiight . . . now.” The tablet dings, and the secretary turns it around to inspect the property report she has received. She is unable to control her disgusted expression.

“What? You seem distressed.”

“It appears, ma’am, that the property in question, as well as all surrounding areas, is under the direct ownership of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.” She scowls, reaching to the bun in her hair and pulling out a hairpin. With precision efficiency, she whirls around and throws it towards the far wall. It impales itself neatly in the center of a cluster of small holes.

“That man has been a thorn in my side for far too long,” she snarls. “What with his insistence on preservation and rehabilitation and other such nonsense. The earth is at our disposal! Do we not have the right - nay, the responsibility - as scientists to advance human progress? If other creatures must suffer, they lack the cognizance to understand that they are sacrificed for the greater good. Humanity above all must progress.”

“Do you think he found net 17-C?” the secretary asks carefully.

And whatever it caught, she doesn’t say.

“It is possible. I know that he beachcombs with that brainwashed doctoral student he keeps on a leash after storms. It’s pathetic. The larger your heart, the smaller your brain. How that man acquired a doctorate will forever remain a mystery to me.”

“Would you like me to increase drone patrols near that section of ocean?”

“It can’t hurt. He doesn’t do enough deep-water research to notice them, as long as we are clever about it. Increase the frequency, and set up remote surveillance on his property. It’s fairly secluded, but we should be able to glean enough data if we’re careful.”

“And what sort of data are we looking for, ma’am?”

“I want the schedule of comings and goings from his house. If we can isolate times when the house is empty, it will allow us access to his laboratory. I am certain that if net 17-C truly did wash ashore on his property, Sanders will be attempting to rehabilitate whatever specimen we acquired. He is too soft for science.”

“Very good, ma’am.”

“I want you to set up the lab to receive new specimens.”

“Which lab, ma’am?”

“My personal lab. Whatever net 17-C managed to catch, it is clearly troublesome. It will require a firm hand to manage.”

The secretary is stunned, but doesn’t show it. “As you wish, ma’am. What type of specimen shall I prepare your lab for?”

“Anything in the sunfish to great white range. And prepare it for human containment as well.”

“Moving straight to human testing, ma’am?”

She grins, teeth flashing in the harsh afternoon sunlight. “Sanders stole something precious from me when he took net 17-C and whatever it contains. Let us see how well his soft heart reacts when he loses something precious to him, hmm?”

The secretary makes a note. “Shall I prepare the room for vivisection, ma’am?”

“Hmm . . . not yet. We shall hold off until we discover what exactly net 17-C caught. You are dismissed.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

*~*~*~*~*

Virgil definitely feels much more comfortable now that Logan has clothing on. He also feels much more uncomfortable, because Logan and Roman are now fighting loudly. Patton is swimming around in his tank, fins swishing irritably, and the occasional grating melody floats up from the water, but neither merman seems to be listening.

“You seem to be doing just fine!” Roman snarls. All of his spines are standing straight up on end, and he looks like a sea urchin or a particularly enraged porcupine. Virgil would be laughing if he wasn’t completely terrified. “Not a care in the world about your precious fucking legs, is there?”

“I am just as upset over this as you are!” Logan snaps. He’s returned to sitting on the lab table, legs neatly folded underneath him (not without a significant amount of effort), and his hands are shaking as he balls them into fists. He’s staring in Roman’s direction, but his eyes are unfocused, probably due to his poor eyesight.

“Really? Because you certainly seem to be perfectly fine with the situation! You like the humans well enough to abandon your own pod for them?! Were you ever even part of this pod to begin with?!”

Logan’s spine stiffens, ramrod straight. Patton stops moving in his little tank. Virgil holds his breath and stands silent, making eye contact with an equally silent Thomas. “What?” Logan’s voice is so quiet that they can barely hear it, barely more than an exhale, but it echoes like a gunshot in the silence.

“You heard me,” Roman bites out viciously. “What would you know about pod? What do you know about family? Dad gave you everything and you’re willing to throw it away for - for these humans?! I guess it takes a human to know one, doesn’t it? You have a pod already, one that loves you more than anything , one that would have given up their own lives to get you back and then you abandon us for strangers?! How dare you?! How dare you give up on a pod that actually fucking wanted you?!”

There are tears streaming down Roman’s face; he grips the edge of the tank so hard that Virgil is legitimately concerned he’ll crack the glass. Water roars up from Patton’s tank in a coiled stream and smacks Roman’s head. The music picks up in tempo and volume, almost drowned by the harsh rasping undertones, and Virgil fights not to cover his ears.

Roman whirls around to stare at his father. “Dad, what the hell, what are you -”

A tail appears from Patton’s tank, light blue that shimmers rainbow beneath the fluorescent lights, and it slaps down against Roman. Virgil can’t stop himself from whimpering nervously when Roman’s agitated spines prick Patton. One spine even remains stuck in Patton’s tail when he pulls back, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

“How,” Logan says, “could you possibly interpret my curiosity and gratitude towards the humans who saved my life and my interest in a culture I know nothing about as abandonment? You have no idea how distraught I was when I realized where I had woken up! Just because these humans turned out to be relatively harmless does not mean that I do not still need my pod!” His voice is getting louder and higher and angrier, and he swallows hard before speaking again with a distinct tremor.

“I still need my big brother and my father, Roman. I was so happy when you and Dad came for me, I was so happy to know that my pod was going to protect me and bring me home. Are - are you telling me that . . . that I will not be able to return home with you after all? Are you kicking me out of -”

“NO!” The noise tears its way out of Roman’s throat, strangled and unnatural, and he grips his own hair so tightly he’s practically tearing it out. Logan reaches down hesitantly, gently touching Roman’s hands, and when his brother doesn’t react negatively he carefully disentangles Roman’s fingers from his hair.

“Roman,” Logan says softly. “I am right here. I will not leave you, Roman. I promise. I am sorry I scared you, but I will not abandon you. Not like they did.”

“Who?” Virgil asks softly. Roman’s spines ruffle again, but they soften enough for Logan to lean in and hug his brother. Roman pushes his face into the curve of Logan’s neck and shoulder, and a keening wail escapes the tight embrace. “Is he alright?”

“He will be,” Logan says softly, stroking his hand through Roman’s soaking wet hair. “And to answer your question, Roman has a . . . somewhat complicated past.”

“You don’t have to tell us anything that you don’t want to,” Thomas says. “You know that, right?” Logan nods, gently touching Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman? Thomas and Virgil are asking questions about the manner in which you found Patton when you were young. May I disclose this information?” Roman makes another sad noise, but he nods into Logan’s shoulder.

“Roman was born to a pod of mer with similar physiology to his own as far as coloring, build, size, detachable spines, and the like. Unlike them, however, Roman’s spines are poisonous. This is a rare trait, thought by his birth pod to be a curse from the Seven Mother Goddesses for some failing on the part of the guppy or the parents. Roman managed to successfully conceal his toxins for a while, but . . .”

“But not forever,” Virgil says softly. He rubs his left wrist, where a small rainbow-patterned bracelet is tightly tied. “Eventually, they found out. They always find out.” Thomas shoots him a concerned look out of the corner of his eye; Virgil steadfastly ignores it.

Logan nods quietly. “When Roman’s so-called ‘curse’ was discovered, his pod cast him out. They believed that getting rid of him would lift the curse the Seven Mother Goddesses had placed on them. All things considered, he was relatively lucky that his mother was the daughter of their pod leader.”

“She was? Does that make him some kind of prince or something?”

“No, but it did accord him a status and prestige that most mer do not have. The standard penalty for poisonous spines on a mer is death in Roman’s part of the ocean.”

“Death?”

“Indeed. Roman’s mother pleaded for leniency for her son, and Roman’s lucky to have received it. They abandoned him to fend for himself as a guppy. He was barely old enough to fend for himself, barely old enough to hunt and catch his own food, he - he was a guppy. He was just a guppy.” Logan’s voice shakes with anger as he speaks.

“How did he find Patton?”

“Dad was injured,” Roman rasps, face still hidden in Logan’s neck. “Humans on a boat. They - they fired a harpoon at him. It went through his chest, he - he couldn’t move to hunt. He was injured, he was dying, he . . .”

Patton rears up out of his tank, water surrounding his head and neck, and reaches out to touch Roman’s shoulder. Virgil can’t tear his eyes away from the pale starburst scar covering Patton’s chest. He’s littered with scars, some bigger than others, but the starburst on his chest is the most prominent, raised and ropey.

“I helped him,” Roman says. “I brought him food, I bandaged him up, I scared away as many predators as I could . . .”

Patton responds, squeezing his shoulder, before he sinks back into the tank. “When Dad recovered, he . . . he told me that he wanted me. I told him I was cursed, and he told me that . . . that I was special. That he wanted me. And he . . .”

Roman touches the band of light blue scales on his left bicep, the band that matches Logan’s arm and Patton’s tail. “He told me I belonged to him. That I was part of his pod now. Dad and Lo, they’re the only family I’ve known for centuries now. I love them. I . . . I can’t lose them. I can’t.”

“You will not lose me,” Logan says firmly. “I swear that I will not abandon you or Dad. I have never had a family before the two of you, and I never will again. You are so indescribably important to me that I cannot possibly begin to put into words how devastated I would be if I were to wake up and find out that you had abandoned me. I love you, Roman, and Dad.”

“I know that,” Roman rasps quietly. “I’m sorry I implied that you didn’t. I - I just - I was so -”

“I know,” Logan says. “I am not mad, Roman. Not anymore.”

“That’s why this whole thing happened,” Roman says. Virgil watches his hand curl into a fist on Logan’s back. “We were fighting, and I . . . made you mad at me, and that’s why you swam off. I . . . I can’t . . . I can’t wrap my head around losing you again, and having it be all my fault, again .”

“It was not your fault the first time,” Logan admonishes. “We were fighting because we can both be stubborn and hard-headed and unable to recognize the truth in the words of another. We are both to blame for the argument, but neither of us is to blame for what the humans did to me.”

Virgil’s gaze lingers on the freshly re-wrapped bandages covering what’s visible of Logan’s arms and legs and torso. When he’d grown legs, the wounds on his tail had transferred, and some of them had been reopened. Virgil had very deliberately not looked at Logan’s face when he cleaned the wounds.

“This is not your fault,” Logan says firmly, holding Roman tightly. “You are not to blame for what happened to me. I did not die, and I was not captured by humans who seek to exploit me. Thomas and Virgil rescued me.”

Roman turns his head from where it’s hidden in Logan’s shoulder to look at Virgil. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For saving my brother’s life. For bringing him off the beach and wrapping his wounds and cleaning the poison from his body. He would have died if you hadn’t saved him. I - I know that I’ve been . . . less than happy to see you, to be in your little fake oceans. I’ve had . . . bad experiences with humans in the past, so many, with so many different humans. But I . . . you . . . thank you. You and Thomas both, but . . . but I understand that you were the one who found him first. That you’ve been talking him through all of this. Thank you.”

Virgil reaches a hand forward. Roman flinches a little, but he slowly takes Virgil’s hand. His hand is wet and scaled, but when Virgil squeezes he squeezes back.

“You’re welcome,” Virgil says.

“You’re welcome,” Thomas says. “And all three of you are more than welcome to stay here in our lab until we catch whoever it is that set the net. You’re welcome to go and hunt in the waters off our property, and you can bring it back here for Logan to eat or we can bring in fish to feed him.”

Patton’s voice floats through the air again. “We . . . we think we would like that,” Roman says softly. “Very much.”

“Roman,” Logan says. Roman turns to look up at his younger brother, and Logan quietly says, “I intend to return here, once I am fully healed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Virgil is different to any other human I’ve ever encountered. Thomas as well. They are . . . strange. Tolerable. I would like to learn more about human customs, and I think that they can teach me. I would like to practice using my legs, so that I can interact more efficiently with humans. They can teach me to blend in more efficiently.”

“You would willingly come back here?” Roman says. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Sharkbait, what if something happens to you?”

“I would never let that happen,” Virgil says. Thomas raises an eyebrow, and Virgil quickly amends his statement. “ We would never let that happen. Doc and I, we won’t let anything happen to your brother.”

Roman frowns. “I still don’t like this. I don’t like the idea of you coming back to the human world, especially after what happened to you. Dad, what do you think?” Patton is quiet for a moment, swishing around in his tank, but when his voice is audible again it sounds firm, determined.

“What?!”

“What?” Virgil asks. “What did he say?”

“He . . . agrees with me,” Logan says, eyes wide and stunned. “He thinks it is a good idea that I learn to stay here and blend in with the humans. It would be a good idea in case we need to know what is happening in the human world. And he . . . he thinks I am capable of making my own decisions.” Roman looks extremely upset, but Patton is still speaking. He sounds a little softer now.

“Dad says that if you are agreeable with it, he and Roman might also return to visit,” Logan says. “He wants to know more about humans as well, and he trusts the two of you since you took care of me and helped him find me again.”

“I’m not opposed to it,” Thomas says. “We can learn from each other - we teach you about humans, you teach us about mer. Roman, we could start with you.” Roman tenses up immediately.

“Me? What do you mean, me?”

“The poison in your spines,” Thomas says, He turns to Virgil, a familiar didactic twinkle in his eye. “Any speculations, Virgil?”

Virgil hums, stepping over to the whiteboard and pulling a marker from his pocket. “It could be Mendelian inheritance. Poison could be a recessive gene, something that only occurs under a very specific set of genetic circumstances.”

“What does that mean?” Roman says, sounding a little less suspicious than before.

“There’s something inside you called DNA,” Virgil says, drawing a very basic helix on the whiteboard. “It makes up your blood and your cells and stuff, and it’s basically the pattern that your body uses to make itself. Your parents had the potential for poisonous spines, and the majority of your birth pod probably had it, too.”

“But only I have poison,” Roman says. “Why is that?”

“Look at it this way,” Virgil says. “You need at least two copies of a certain sequence or pattern in order to have poison in your spines. Your parents each had one copy, and most of the other mer in your pod either had one copy or no copies. You were born with two copies, so you have poison.”

“So . . . I’m not cursed?” Roman sounds like a small child, painfully hopeful, eyes wide and flickering between doubt and happiness.

“No, you are not,” Virgil says firmly. “You are not cursed in the slightest.”

“I never believed that you were cursed,” Logan says firmly. “Your poison is a gift, just like my electricity. It makes you a more efficient predator and offers you more protection.” Roman rolls his eyes and scoffs, but he still hugs Logan more tightly.

“Would you permit us to study your spines?” Thomas asks Roman. “I want to analyze your poison.”

“Will it hurt?” Roman asks.

“No. Your spines are detachable, right? You can fire them at will?”

“I can.”

“All you would have to do is fire a spine or two, and we could analyze it. It doesn’t have to be right now, you can think about it, but I promise you that it wouldn’t hurt you anymore than firing your spines normally would.” Roman nods at him, and Patton speaks again.

“Dad says you are more than welcome to study him, if you wish, so long as you tell him what you are doing beforehand and ask his permission.”

“Same goes for me,” Roman says quickly.

“Of course,” Thomas says. “We would never perform any sort of science without your explicit consent. That’s not how we operate. We’re ethical scientists. I’d have you sign consent forms if, y’know, you knew how to write.”

Virgil laughs a little, but Roman and Logan seem genuinely reassures. Roman presses close to Logan with a soft noise before slithering back into the water and submerging both of his sets of gills again.

Logan shifts his attention to Virgil. “I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“I would like to see what my face looks like. Is there a way in which that could be made possible? I have seen my face when I still had my tail, in reflections on the surface of the water, but I can no longer feel the scales on my face. I suspect that my appearance has changed in more ways than just my legs.”

“I can get a mirror,” Virgil says. “Wait here, okay?” He hurries to his bedroom and grabs the small mirror he uses to put on his eyeshadow before running back down to the laboratory. “This should work.”

Logan takes the mirror and holds it close to his face, squinting. “He’s definitely nearsighted,” Thomas mutters, poking at his phone screen. “I wonder if there’s anything we can do about that . . .”

Virgil is distracted by the soft happy noise that Logan makes, nose pressed so close to the mirror it’s almost touching. “Virgil! Look at my face! We match now!”

“What?” Logan looks up, eyes gleaming, and touches his cheek and nose. Where he’d previously had a mask-like band of dark blue scales (which Virgil suspects might double as electroreceptors), there is now a band of dense freckles. They thin on his forehead, clustering thickest under his eyes and splashed across the bridge of his nose.

“I have brown face scales just like you!” Logan’s joy is almost palpable, and his eyes are wide and sparkling. He is full of a pure, childlike wonder, and Virgil can’t stop the laughter bubbling up in his chest from flying through his throat and spilling into the air.

“They’re called freckles,” Virgil says happily, “and you’re right. We do match.”

“I am very happy that I match the first nice human I have ever met,” Logan says, grinning widely. Virgil can’t stop himself from smiling back, even with Thomas’s mocking facial expressions in the corner of his eye.

Yeah, he’s pretty damn happy about it, too.

#starshinewrites #lovely dark and deep #ldad #romantic analogical #sanders sides #platonic TLAMP

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter nine: pleasures of the flesh

Sam boarded that plane with Chuck, Tiffany, Alex, Eric, Greg, and Louie at about ten minutes to the hour.

On one hand, it almost felt wrong to do that when she should be on the plane back to Los Angeles. Bill awaited her and she knew that she would have to face the music with him at some point anyway. She figured that the sooner she would have to see him, the better, and as far as she knew, he had ruined his own house.

But then again, as far as she knew, he had ruined his own house. She would have to return home to nothing.

She settled back in the seat next to Louie, and right next to the window as well.

Given it was so early in the morning, she peered out the window at the stretch of mainland United States under the veil of darkness. Clouds dotted the lower part of the sky beneath them: the soft orange and pink shades that kissed the tops made her think of watercolor. Despite it being so early in the morning, she was still wide awake from that latte that Eric had bought for her. A three hour flight back to San Francisco and there was no way in which she could fall back asleep.

Louie stayed wide awake as well, and she realized that was the first time in literal months that she and him had been alone together as well. He turned his head and showed her a wistful little smile.

“Almost home,” he said in a broken voice.

“Almost home,” she echoed him; if nothing, she could make her way down the Central Valley into Los Angeles and then Lake Elsinore, but that was for another day when it deemed necessary. Louie sighed through his nose and turned his head back to where he stared straight ahead at the seats in front of them: Greg and Alex were right behind them and had long fallen asleep once again, while Chuck, Eric, and Tiffany were right across the aisle, all asleep as well.

“My dad's gonna be here eventually,” she told him.

“It'd be nice to see him, wouldn't it?” Louie replied with a twinkle in his eye.

If only there was a way. If only there was a way she could convince him that he and Zelda belonged together, but if only there was a way she could tell him that he had a family in the background somewhere there.

“Absolutely. Especially after moving out here, too.” She fell silent for a moment. “Have you talked to Zelda lately?”

“I haven't, no,” he confessed. “I mean, we did see her and the girls back in Europe but I didn't really get alone with her and talked to her, though. Probably should, though, don't ya think?”

“Absolutely,” Sam replied and she nestled down in the seat some more.

“You know, Sam, if I'm being perfectly honest with you—I love how concerned you are about these sorts of things.”

“I just try to be a good friend,” she confessed.

“Well—and this is something I've learned from being around Zelda, too—sometimes you have to let people live. Sometimes some things are just better left unsaid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well—” He turned his head to the row right across from them, and the three of them sound asleep. Neither Greg nor Alex made a peep since they left the airport. “I told you she got it out of me, right?” he asked her in a near whisper.

“How could I forget.”

“I figured that there are times where it's better to keep secrets so no one can use them against you because that's—kind of what happened between me and her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah. She told me that if the secret gets out between us—and that includes you, too—there will be hell to pay. If Testament is going anywhere in the world, and we probably will, just knowing these two fellas right behind us right and Chuck's searing vocals, there are some things that need to stay private.”

“It's none of people's business anyways,” she pointed out.

“Exactly, right! So that said, I hope to god that things will stay under wraps with us—you, me, and her. I trust you, Sam. I trust you and I trust Zelda, too. I trust that these things will stay between us.”

Sam extended her pinky finger for him.

“Excellent,” Louie remarked as he hooked his finger around hers.

“I should ask—where should I stay when we get back to the Bay Area?”

“You can stay with me,” he offered her.

“For real?”

“Yeah, I'm kinda—by myself now.”

“Aw.” She tilted her head at that and he nodded with a solemn look on his face.

“Yeah—but I'll take good care of you, though. When we touch down there, I'll do the first thing I did for Zelda after I started frequenting Rhode Island more and I'll take you out to breakfast. I'll ask Thing One and Thing Two back here if they wanna join us.”

She giggled at that.

“If there's one thing I couldn't do for my old girlfriend but I learned to do, though, it's that. It's treating you girls right.”

“I just think of that sentiment Charlie told me when I was hanging out with Anthrax back home in New York: you guys embrace your female fans.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “We absolutely love our female fans—mainly because there's not a lot of you running around, especially with us and this... I wanna say it's a second wave of thrash coming out of the Bay Area in particular. There's us and Death Angel, and there's a few others—we'll have to introduce you to them once we land.”

“There's Exodus, too,” she pointed out.

“Exodus has been around almost ten years now,” he corrected her. “Formed in the last gasp of the Seventies straight outta high school like us and Death Angel. And of course, Anthrax have some now, mainly with the help of the Cherry Suicides, but they've got some. I've seen a few women at our shows wearing Among the Living shirts and shirts with 'NOT' written on the front in big letters. I dunno if you've seen them throw that word around lately, but they have, though.”

“Like a catch phrase of some sort?”

“Kinda, yeah. I don't know if you seen Scott with that word shaved into his chest hair before but it's kinda funny, actually.”

“I don't remember,” she confessed.

“And it's a select few women, too. Between you, the four of them, and Marla, I haven't really seen any for Testament aside from the odd small bunch over in Europe.”

“Yeah, I probably counted all of five women in the crowd last night,” Sam recalled.

“Exactly!” Louie chuckled.

Sam then reached down between her legs for her purse and she took out her journal, her pencil, and a couple of her pens.

“Ah, you wanna draw for me!” he declared.

“Well, I also wanna show you the thing I made for Greg last night on the night flight,” she told him, and she flicked open to that one page. He gaped at the sight of the black ink on the page before him.

“Wow! What is it?”

“It's Joey and Alex on either side of one of the trees from the Black Forest. They're like praying to the tree together.”

“Oh, yeah, that's Alex and the little bit of gray upon his head—and the one with the curls is Joey.”

“It needs a little more touching up, but that's what I get for drawing so late at night and being partially asleep all the while, too.”

Louie chuckled at that when a low guttural noise cut him off. Sam stopped right in her tracks.

“Was that you or me?” he asked her in a low voice.

One of them in the seat behind groaned in his throat: Sam craned her neck back at the sight of Alex shifting his weight in his seat. Even though he was still asleep, nothing could deny the pained look on his face.

“The young buck,” she told Louie with a nod of her head back behind them.

“Aw—oh, yeah, he's not quite yet a full grown man so he's still suffering from that teenage hunger.”

“You ever get that hunger where it feels like you're about to puke?”

“All the time! You ever get the kind that sneaks up on you? Like you're fine one minute and then all of a sudden, you're like, 'holy hell, I'm hungry.' I used to get it all the time even when I hit twenty years old. I had my daughter then, too.”

“So that's why you were always struggling for money,” Sam noted.

“Nah, I was struggling for money because there was no money to be made yet. Zelda was only making enough to pay our rent and buy groceries and that was it—no idea what they must be making now. There still really isn't at the moment, not with us. Our label isn't giving us squat and touring is only really keeping our lights on. Seriously, Sam, it's only every so often we can splurge on something like going out to eat—and in Alex's case, it's to keep him at his parents' house still. I figured I have enough for a cab ride back to my place and then I can get something to eat after that, but that's about it. Really, that's why we're all on this plane and not a private one like Metallica are.”

“Metallica have their own plane now?” She was stunned by that, and Louie nodded his head and tucked a piece of flat hair behind his ear.

“Yeah. Surprised me, too. But as we were leaving Munich for the first night, Alex was talking to Lars over the phone and they had flown to Copenhagen via their private jet.”

Sam brought her gaze down to the floor. To think Metallica were making enough money to have their own flight plan, and Cliff wasn't even there to witness it himself.

“Did he say how they got it?” she asked him.

“Nah, Alex was just like 'how in the world did you manage that one?' and Lars said they were just making enough money from their touring at this point that they were finally able to get it for themselves. Touring in the wake of losing Cliff, too.”

Sam shook her head. There was no way she could hold it against them for making money off of their dead friend because it wasn't their fault. But at the same time, merely addressing that the thing was a thing and going no further than that left her unsettled.

“I think it's interesting that Alex started wearing that skull ring, too,” Louie continued.

“Why's that?”

“'Cause Cliff had one himself. Remember that?”

Sam paused for a moment. Even though she only got to see him a handful of times prior to his death, it was such a vague little detail for her to remember altogether.

“By the way, when's everyone's birthdays again?” she spoke again. “I know Alex's is on the twenty ninth of September, and you're two days after me in January. I remember Chuck and Eric telling me once but it's escaped me.”

“Chuck is right after the summer solstice, June twenty third. Eric is May fourteenth and Greg is April twenty ninth.”

“All of us born later in the month, my goodness!” she declared.

“I know, right? Us Aquarians know how to throw people, you know?”

“We bear the water, after all,” Sam pointed out, “I bear the goat horns, too. I'm on the cusp.”

“I ain't getting in an argument with you,” Louie joked, “the goat horns and the bones, too.”

She giggled at that, and then she remembered the skull ring in question. And she began to wonder Alex's exact intent as the sun's first rays followed them all the way back to California.

They touched down in the Bay Area, right as the first wisps of that thick fog gathered right outside of the coast, and Sam was eager to step outside and feel the fog on her face and the crown of her head. Greg and Alex trudged behind her and Louie all the way to the area outside of the gate.

“Hey, you guys wanna join us for breakfast?” she offered them as she adjusted the straps on her purse and her overnight bag. “Lewis here is gonna take me out in a few minutes.”

“I'm ready for a nap,” Greg told her.

“Yeah, I'm probably just gonna mosey on back home and curl up in my bed,” Alex added as he rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. “Get on home and eat something, too. But I kinda miss my bed.”

“Exodus is playing tomorrow night, though,” Greg pointed out.

“Yeah, that's right!” Louie recalled. “Right across the street from me, too.”

“Oh, well, lucky us,” Sam proclaimed.

“Yeah, c'mon, Sam I am—I'll take ya home with me.”

She followed him out to the parking lot and towards the sidewalk on the far side of the black top. And then she realized that he didn't have a car.

“Are we taking the bus or—?” she asked him, but then her voice trailed off as he raised his arm up for a taxi, and the little green car pulled up to the curb before them.

“You know, the entire time I've lived in New York, I've only seen a few taxi cabs,” she told him as he held the door for her.

“Really? Well, you lived in the Bronx most of the time, though. Most of the cabs I've seen were down in Manhattan or over in Brooklyn. Like more so in the inner city part of it all rather than a straight up neighborhood such as that.”

“Right, and we lived in Hell's Kitchen, too! Down by the water and it was more like that, too. I always either hitched a ride with Charlie and Marla, or I took the subway or the bus with Bel, or I walked places.”

They climbed into the back seat together and Louie told the driver they were headed for Hayward.

“That's a name I haven't heard in ages,” she noted as they got rolling along the streets.

“What, Hayward?”

“Yeah. All the names out here on the West Coast, actually. It's astonishing, really. A few weeks ago, Chuck, Tiffany, Alex, Greg, and I all went to see Death Angel in Alhambra and the four of them were staying in Corona. When Cliff and I were together, and we visited my parents in Reno, it was kind of surreal, almost like a dream of sorts. To see all the street names and all the old neighborhoods again. And it's like visiting an old friend to an extent.”

“When Zelda and I split up, and I moved back here,” Louie explained, “the exact same thing happened to me, too. Like, wow, I can't believe I'm actually telling someone to take the 880 Freeway down to Fremont and San Jose, and the 92 bridge across the Bay over to San Mateo. Like, it wasn't that long ago, I was looking up directions from Narragansett to Boston. We're going to be a block away from the cemetery, too.”

The driver nodded in response: meanwhile, Sam peered out the window at the early morning fog as it collected all around the sky overhead. So much that Cliff hadn't shown her when he was alive, and at that moment, in the back of that cab, she witnessed it for herself. All the little shops that lined the streets and the small slivers of parks throughout the place all the way over to All Soul's Cemetery and the ramshackle apartment complex right across the way.

Louie kept his promise and paid the fare for them.

The two of them stood on the sidewalk together and he groaned.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“The place I wanna take you isn't open yet,” he explained.

“It is still pretty early,” she pointed out.

“True, true.” He led her up the sidewalk to the apartments: after he held the door for her, and she stepped inside, the fatigue of having traveled so much settled over her right then.

“We're just on the ground floor here,” he guided her down the hallway to the fourth room on the right and he unlocked the door for her.

A cozy one bedroom apartment with a small couch tucked in one corner and across from that was a small television upon a milk crate. To the right of her stood a large wooden armoir that looked as though it hadn't been painted with a coat of veneer once in its lifetime. Before her was a short hallway that led back to the bedroom in question as well as a bathroom and a closet: to the left was the small kitchenette with a narrow shabby table that needed a paint job in and of itself.

“Well, at least this place isn't dirty,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, I mean, it's just me here now—it's not like there's much to clean here anyway. You can set your things in my room if you wish.”

“You're gonna make me sleep on the couch, aren't you?” she asked him.

“Nah, you can sleep head to toe with me in my bed,” he offered her. “It's a comfy bed, I promise you that.”

Indeed, Sam showed a little grin and then she made her way into that little bedroom so as to set her things down. In one corner of the room was a small pile of laundry: on top was a black T shirt and inscribed on the front, in swirled sparkled red letters, read “The Cherry Suicides”. Right within the name was a pair of cherries with the stem split apart by a butcher knife: on the handle of the knife was a white bow.

“You have a Cherry Suicides shirt?” she called out to him.

“Oh, yeah!” he called back to her from the front room.

“I didn't know they sold shirts!” she declared. “All the times I saw them, there was like no merch to be seen.”

“Yeah, Zelda gave that to me when we were going out,” he explained as he stood in the doorway behind her. “She actually made that for me because they couldn't get a thing to make merch for themselves—well, they probably can now, but a few years ago, they weren't able to so she made her own. You can have that if you'd like. It doesn't fit me.”

“Aw, thank you. Yet another sleep shirt.” She picked up the shirt from the pile: indeed, she knew it would be a bit of a snug fit for her given she had far more curves than Louie at that point.

“I should ask you,” he began again, “have you shown Alex that drawing?”

“I haven't, no. I haven't shown him any of my art so far.”

“Oh, man, you should. You know those drawings you made for Charlie for this past tour? He was awestruck by them. Whenever Chuck and I asked him about it, he was like, 'dude, that's some of the best art I've ever seen in my life.'”

She gaped at that.

“But he couldn't put two and two together and realize that it was me who made them, though?” she asked him, to which Louie shook his head.

“Seeing as you're back out here on the West Coast, you ought to catch a moment alone with him when you can. Really show him your art, like do a demo for him.”

“He was heart broken when Jean Michel Basquiat passed away recently,” she recalled.

“Oh, I bet he was! He's more of an art nut than Lars and Charlie both. So you ought to do it for him. Anyways, I'm gonna change my clothes and I'll take you over to the place I want to take you for breakfast. You'll love this place, Sam. Best coffee and pancakes in town.”

“We'll be the judge of that,” she told him as she peeled off her shirt right there in front of him, much to his gasping. But she put on that homemade Cherry Suicides shirt for herself: the body hugged her breasts and her belly a little bit but it fit her as if Zelda had crafted it just for her. The neckline hung low upon her chest so it accentuated a bit of skin, and Louie nodded at that.

“My turn!” he said, and he took off his shirt as well. Sam kept her eye on his slender drummer's body as he stepped past her for a plain dark gray sweatshirt himself. He fixed his hair and then he gestured for her to follow him back outside to the restaurant in question.

Cozy and warm and a slice of life away from the deathly feeling right up the block from them, and Sam soon saw that he was right about the coffee and the pancakes: she helped herself to a large fat stack of five of them, each of them light and fluffy and loaded up with butter and a small kiss of fresh blackberries.

“So where are we seeing Exodus at tonight?” she asked him as she mopped up the rest of the blackberry syrup with a final bite of pancakes.

“Right over there—” He pointed out the window to the block on the other side of the cemetery, where she spotted a low but bright lit bar with dark stained glass windows. “Doors open at about five o'clock so we'll be meeting Alex and Greg over there around then. Since we're friends of Exodus, we get in for free. You'll probably have to pay five bucks, though.”

“Sounds good, though,” she assured him, and then she raised her coffee mug for him and they made a toast to one another. “Wait a minute, it's a bar, though,” she pointed out. “What's Alex gonna do there?”

“They sell food until about eleven,” he told her. “So he can go in there.”

“All the food his tummy could ever wish for,” she said as she took another sip of coffee. After breakfast, Sam settled into the apartment for a few hours with her journal and her pencil until Louie put on his Chuck Taylors and then his watch. She figured she had enough to not enough to cover the way into the bar as well as a drink for herself. She ran a brush through her hair and then she followed him back outside to the cool afternoon: most of the fog had burned off at that point, but a few wisps and thick clouds dotted the otherwise rich blue canopy overhead.

“The girls also played there,” he told her.

“Really?”

“When Zelda and I were first going out and I was trying to hide my old life from her, yeah. That was where she treated me to a show and she offered to take me home to Rhode Island with her.”

“So this is like coming full circle here,” she followed along as she put on her sunglasses; even though they weren't going very far up the street, she decided to wear them regardless of anythin g.

“Exactly! Right up the street, too, so it's oh so close to home.”

He led her up the sidewalk and all the way around the circumference of the cemetery, to the furthest point and under a row of tall oak trees. She thought about that night in Brooklyn and the Day of the Dead ceremony. She knew she would have to do it again for Cliff as they crossed the four lane road together: he reached the sidewalk first. A gust of cool oceanic wind sent a shiver down her spine but she figured the pancakes from that morning would keep her warm enough until they reached the bar.

“Hey, there's Eric!” Louie pointed out. Up ahead, wrapped in thin black leather and with his inky black hair down so it freely twirled in the wind, Eric lingered outside of the front door of the bar and shuffled his feet about. As they came closer to him, and Sam realized she had made a mistake by not bringing a coat with her, he flashed them a grin.

“Not in the Big Apple anymore,” he declared to her. “Bitchin' shirt, by the way.”

“Not even close,” she said over the whistle of the winds, “I literally forgot how cold and dry California is, even up here. And thank you! This is courtesy of Zelda herself.”

Eric held the door for them and she stepped into the big spacious room first. Given they were right across the street from a cemetery, small sugar skulls lined the walls around them. Old names from years and decades past there in the San Francisco Bay Area lined the phony bricks that were plastered upon the main wall to the left, all in thick calligraphy and block letters like the names in obituaries. Posted up at one of the tables by the wall was Alex and Greg, the latter of whom waved at her. Meanwhile, Alex adjusted the skull ring on his right hand and leaned back in the chair. He had dyed his hair jet black once more, albeit with a bit of haste, however this time around, it was hard to tell that he even had a gray streak there over his brow to begin with.

“Really, who says you can't be girly and badass at the same time?” Greg asked her as part of his greeting.

“I thought being girly was a part of being badass, dude,” Alex pointed out.

“It's badass to be manly, too,” Sam assured as she took her seat there next to him.

“Right?” He clenched his fist to show her the silver skull on his ring finger.

“I'm gonna check on the guys,” Louie told them.

“I have to pay the cover charge,” she retorted to him.

“Oh, yeah, do that,” Alex advised her.

But lucky for her, she found out that she could have half price for a drink, and thus she treated herself to an Irish coffee. A thick frosted glass of that light brown coffee with a thick foam up top and so early in the evening to boot, and she knew that the party would start. She returned to Alex and Greg, right as the former put his hands around a glass of root beer and the latter sipped on some actual beer.

“Why would you do that?” Alex was asking him once she returned within earshot.

“Why not? I could probably do it with one ball first and then work my way up to two.”

“You do that, it's just throwing a single thing in the air,” he pointed out.

“You're still doing it, though,” said Greg.

“No—?” Alex chuckled at that.

“What're you guys talking about?” she asked them with a bit of laughter herself.

“Juggling,” Alex replied, “apparently, he wants a shot at it. He wants to start I tout with one object, too.”

“That's not juggling, though,” she pointed out.

“See what I mean, dude?” He took a sip of his root beer when Eric returned with a plate with a slice of pepperoni pizza.

“Oh, yeah, you get pizza and I just get root beer,” Alex scoffed at him.

“Courtesy of the guys, little man,” Eric advised him and he gestured to the other side of the room behind him.

“I'll be right back,” Alex told the three of them and he bowed over to the table there by the bathrooms, where Louie was helping himself to a plate full as well. Indeed, Sam brought her attention over there and she spotted the man right in front of Louie. She almost didn't even recognize him from his now shorn hair and the fact his face looked as though it had been boiled in a vat of water.

“Oh, man, Zetro doesn't look good,” Sam remarked.

“I guess they haven't been doing too well,” Eric told her as he covered his mouth with one hand. “This last record they put out—last October, I think? It was a total flop—I thought it was pretty good, though. The guitars sound like chainsaws and Zetro's vocal delivery is just not for the faint of heart. I mean you heard him, when he was with us.”

“Oh, right, right! Real screechy, high vocals.”

“Indicative of thrash! But yeah, everyone hated it upon release, though.”

“Do you think maybe Zelda might have something to do with it?” she asked him.

“No clue, to be honest. Could just be nerves—you know, the sophomore slump thing, but who knows, really. That is a possibility, though, 'cause he was a wreck when she and him split and she made amends with Louie. One can only hope that their next one will be a bonafide masterpiece.”

Within time, Alex and Louie returned with plates, for themselves and for Greg and Sam in that respective fashion.

Within the hour, more and more people filed into the bar and Exodus prepared to take to the stage. Eric and Louie made their way over to the stage to check in on the band themselves, and Greg had gone off to the men's room. Thus, Sam and Alex were left alone yet again, that time with empty plates before them. He lifted his glass of root beer to his lips but he didn't take a drink for himself.

“Samantha, when you turned twenty, how'd you react to it?” he asked her.

“How'd I react to it?”

“Yeah, like—what was going through your mind then?”

“I just kind of—resigned to the fact that I was going to be twenty years old soon, like I wasn't going to be a teenager anymore.”

She dropped her gaze to his fingers as they curled around the base of his glass of root beer. She wondered what was going through his mind right then.

“Why?” she asked him as she leaned her head in closer to him. “Alex? Is there something you want to tell me?” She peered over her shoulder once again. They were alone yet again; she returned to him. “You can tell me. You are my best kept secret—you can tell me if something is troubling you.” He sighed through his nose.

“I'm just—kinda—realizing the fact that I'm not a kid anymore,” he confessed, to which he knitted his eyebrows together. “I haven't really felt like a kid in a long time, either. You know? I feel like I've had to grow up a great deal in the past six years. Hell, the past three years, I feel like I've had to grow up a great deal.”

“Well—you're still Alex, though,” she pointed out in a low voice. “You're just—a little older is all. My mom told me that when I turned eighteen in fact. She said, 'you're still my little girl regardless of how old you are.' So to that, you're still little boy Alex to me. You're still that chubby sixteen year old with the yarmulke, the one whom I first met in New York City.”

He raised his head at that and he raised his eyebrows: the softest she had ever seen him at that point.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I bet your parents feel the same way about you.”

He paused for a second. “They do, actually. In particular my mom. They did a lot for me—they still do, actually. My mom helps me do laundry and sometimes there's just something about coming home and feeling her hug me. Feeling my dad hug me, too. You know?”

“Oh, yeah! That's one thing I miss about living close to my parents is hugs from them, especially my dad.”

He ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his glass.

“So do you know at all when he's coming out here?” he asked her.

“Who, my dad? I don't, no.” She paused herself. “Why, you wanna meet him?”

“If it's not too much trouble,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I always introduced my friends to my parents growing up. That was actually the first time I really heard the word 'meshuggah' was when I brought one of my friends over to jam guitars with. My dad was like 'my kid's meshuggah!' to their parents. And I mean—you know, it's all of us out here in the Bay Area together now—it just—kinda makes sense that we all get together and hang out together when we're not on the road.”

“Which is quite often,” she followed along.

“Oh, my god, yes! We're supposed to be back in the studio soon, too. And we've got those shows down in Reseda before Christmas.”

“By the way, when's Hanukkah this year?” she asked him without a moment's hesitation.

“Hanukkah? Oh, god, I dunno. I do know Rosh Hashana is coming up here in like two weeks or something like that, but that's where it starts and ends with me, though. I couldn't tell you when Yom Kippur is or even—almost twenty years old and I know for a fact my mom's gonna take me over her knee and I'm gonna get spanked for this—Passover. Besides my family's non traditional Jewish. I don't always wear my yarmulke or my Star of David.”

“Still a Jew boy, though,” she pointed out with a giggle.

“Oh, yeah. This last name is definitely indicative of that. There's not a lot of us running around but it's there, though. I mean, if my dad utilizing a word like 'meshuggah' isn't enough indication, I dunno what to tell ya.”

He shrugged his shoulders and rolled those deep eyes a bit, and she giggled some more at him.

“Do you celebrate Hanukkah at all?” she asked him.

“We did when I was little! Like when I was a toddler and when I first started school, but like I said, my parents are non traditional. So it doesn't bother them in the least if we miss any of the holidays at any given time, and they usually do, too.” He picked up his glass and sipped on the rest of his root beer, and then he turned his attention back to her, that time with a thoughtful look on his face. “We do have a menorah, though,” he said in a low voice.

“A real menorah?”

He nodded.

“Oh, yeah, it's as real as the black dye on my head right now.” She giggled at that. “And I'll tell you what. When Hanukkah starts—whenever it does this year—you ought to come on over. We'll light up the candles for each of the eight nights, and I'll do it for you, too.”

Someone up on stage laughed out laughing right at that moment.

“It's not that funny,” Sam cracked, and Alex cackled at that. Someone else up there addressed Alex by name, and he turned his attention towards them with a twinkle in his eye.

“I dunno, man, why you asking me!” he called out in that big bold voice, and Zetro made his way to the middle of the stage with the microphone in hand. He pointed in their direction and Sam sank down away from the look of mischief on his face.

“I see exactly one Alex Skolnick out there in the audience,” he declared and his speaking voice filled up the entire room, “—twenty years old in a few weeks time—you know, he's only in here 'cause there's food.”

People in the audience chuckled at that. Alex bowed his head and closed his eyes, to which Zetro stuck out his tongue and flashed Sam a wink. She peered over at him and before she could even so much as put her hand on his arm, Zetro spoke again.

“Anyways, come on up here, little man—come on up here and give us a li'l kick in the ass and give the cherry a good poppin'. We could use it right about now to start us out.”

Sam and Alex glanced at one another, and she shrugged her shoulders at him. He rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his root beer, and then he stood to his feet. People applauded him as he took the walkway on the other side of the room. Soon, over the small sea of heads, Sam recognized his head of jet black hair against the overhead lights. One of their stage hands gave him a big white flying V guitar, much like the guitar which Dave gave Joey for auditions.

Her jaw dropped as she watched him take center stage next to Zetro.

Alex absolutely dwarfed the five of them. He didn't even need the gray streak upon his head for Sam to recognize him from clear across the room: he had that handsome oval face and those prominent features. Indeed, there was that indication she had for him: his hair could turn completely gray and she could still recognize him, but she made that sentiment when she locked eyes with him. But as she watched him up there on stage with Exodus, she realized that it was more than that.

The kid literally stood out like a monolith. Long lanky legs wrapped in those fitted black jeans and his slender little body accentuated by that black button up: at some point on the way up there, he had undone the top two buttons and revealed a sliver of his chest to the audience. He ran his fingers through his inky black curls and showed off a bit more of his neck.

She had never seen him like that before, such that it was almost too much for her to bear right then. She wanted another slice of pizza but she wanted to pay more attention to him.

Thus, she climbed off the stool and almost ran right into Greg, who gasped at the sight of her.

“Oh, my—hi,” she muttered to him.

“Hi,” Greg said back to her. One inch of clearance separated them. “Do you know where Alex is?”

“I don't, no—I was—I was just gonna ask you.” Sam peered down at his narrow legs and his belt as it poked out from underneath the hem of his shirt. “Oh, no, wait, he's up there with them.”

“Oh, yeah!” Greg clapped his hands over his head as Alex let his fingers do the talking on the guitar's fret board.

“Oh, my,” she muttered, to which she fanned herself.

“Practice it, man!” Zetro bellow into the microphone.

“Yeah, practice what you preach!” he shouted into the microphone right behind him, and his voice was even bigger for that room in comparison to that of Zetro. All Sam could think about right then was Soundgarden, the Seattle band at the show in Dusseldorf.

Her heart fluttered inside of her chest all the while. The way Alex stood there with that white guitar pressed against his body.

“Watch my purse for me, Greg?” she asked him.

“Sam, I will walk up and down the street with your purse over my shoulder if I have to,” Greg replied, and she bowed away from there, but then she doubled back for her glass.

The fact she was legally married to a man and the fact that she had a boyfriend back home in New York. It was almost too much for her to bear.

Sam shook her head. No amount of Irish coffee could soothe the warm feeling in her face: if anything, it only added to the feeling within her. That fluttery feeling in her chest and the way her hips wanted to sway about with his rhythms.

She sipped on the glass again and then she bolted from the table.

She couldn't even make it to bathroom when Alex himself bumped into her there at the corridor's entrance.

Not again. He hadn't even broken out in a sweat for a second. But his body lingered there before her, all big and tall and with two buttons undone, as if he had done it all for her.

Not again.

“Oh—hi,” she sputtered and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Hi,” Alex retorted back to her. One inch of clearance separated them, just like with her and Greg. “Uh—I need a drink of water, I'm like dying of thirst right now.”

“And I gotta use the ladies' room—” He tried to bow past her but she went in the same direction as him. She went the other way and he followed her as well.

“Damn it—” he chuckled at that.

“Pardon me,” she told him as she finally bowed past him and into the women's bathroom. She shut the door behind her and she peered into the mirror in front of her. A light touch of pink crossed her face. She shook her head about and let out a long low whistle, even though that did nothing to settle the nervous sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Yet another moment where she hadn't seen Alex without that stoic expression on his face.

She didn't even have to use the bathroom but she needed to be away from the table, away from Greg's prying eyes. She washed her hands and splashed a little cold water on her face before she returned back out to the bar. Greg had gone off, and Alex was back in his spot there at the table. His face was flushed and he pushed his bangs right off of his face so as to keep himself cool.

“Are you okay?” she asked him once she took her seat again.

“Yeah. I just—wasn't expecting to see you over there.”

“I see.”

“What about you? You look like you're about as red as a cherry tomato.”

“It's this Irish coffee,” she told him with a tap of the glass. “I almost wanna Jew it up.”

“Jew it up?” he echoed her. “Why would you wanna Jew it up?”

“What's wrong—with Jewing it up?”

“You Jew it up, you make it kosher and dry. And you don't wanna do that to coffee.”

“Maybe I do,” she teased him. “Make coffee nice and dry.”

Alex shook his head and stuck out his tongue at that, and then he gave her that hearty laugh once again.

“I don't think I'm ready to understand you, Alex Skolnick,” she teased him once again.

“A lot of people don't,” he promised her. “I'm just gonna tell you this right now—really, listen to me, Samantha. A lot of people don't understand me, especially my parents.”

And yet a part of her told her that it was only just the beginning with him.

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