tooru0: (Default)
2017-02-18 12:08 pm

unfinished pokemon junk, musings, fics

I've fallen deep into pokemon hell, so of course I've amassed a backlog of shit ive started that I'll probably never finished. Anyway, this is just where I'm dumping things I'm working on, things I've abandoned, and other things. More often then not, they're just pasted in without any editing, so a lot of this is me stopping in the middle of my creative it's a mess, basically. Also please note that I'm sadistic as hell and my boys will suffer.
Red didn't leave Mt. Silver of his own will. -- Green's in the middle of instructing his trainers when his pokegear starts ringing. He checks who's calling, and answers it with a sigh. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, Gramps." He huffs, looking at the feed of his Grandfather through the screen of the pokegear. "Delia called me a few minutes ago." His Grandfather started, ignoring Green's complaint. "He's back, Green." It took a moment, then Green's eyes widened, and he immediately bit down any hope. "You're not talking about–" "Yes." The professor continued seriously. "Red is back, Green." -- Green is surprised to be hearing from his sister– they should both be working; and that's how he knows it's important. He answers his pokegear, giving his trainers a look that says "Get training! You're not here to stand around!" He goes into the hall with it, finally done neglecting the device. Green opens his mouth to speak, and stops, catching the exhausted, distraught look his sister has on the small screen of the pokegear. "Did something happen ?" He asks gravely. "Don't freak out. I didn't call to get you roused up, I called because I'm your sister and I know how important he is to you–" "Daisy, what are you–" Green interrupts, only to be interrupted himself. "Red showed up this morning." Daisy said. Green felt his body tense. "You didn't tell me until–" Daisy shut him down immediately. "Green, shut your damn mouth and get your ass down to the Viridian hospital. I'll explain when you get here." She said sourly, hanging up the pokegear. Green was numb. His body switched to autopilot, and he shouted at his trainers to continue their training, he was leaving for the day. He headed outside, grabbing Pidgeot's pokeball off his belt, and they flew to the hospital. -- Green burst into Red's room. And there, with Pikachu curled up on his chest, hooked up to various monitoring machines and fluids, was Red. He had matured, certainly, but with the pale skinniness of the teen, it was lost on him. He looked so small as he slept, so wrong with his long limbs and sickly tone. Green stopped staring and turned to his sister, the only other human in the room. He sat down beside her, running his hands through his hair. "Delia found him on her front step this morning. She heard someone knock, went to answer the door, and there he was. I was leaving for work just then, and, well..." Daisy sighed. "I told her I'd wait for you to come before I left." -- Red awoke to a dark room, contrasted by the streaks of light that escaped into the room through the open door. He felt pretty good, with the fog in his mind starting to dissipate. His gaze shifted to the sleeping figure slumped over his bedside, surprised to realize it to be Green,
I might actually continue that one, just needed to get it out of my headspace, yanno?
Red seemed untouchable, immortal atop Mt. Silver (his mountain). Green never worried about his survival, never questioned his tact in nature. Maybe if he had, though– maybe if he'd pushed harder– this could've been avoided. They were 15 when Green caught wind of the location of the former champion. It started out as a rumor, a whisper that spread among younger trainers. Looking back, it wouldn't have been difficult to find him, especially knowing him personally. But no one had looked that hard, either. At 16, Green finally decided to go see him. He left his gym to his trainers (which wasn't unusual in itself; he was known to disappear from time to time–something the Pokemon League did not appreciate.) and packed a bag. He called out his Pidgeot and flew to Mt. Silver. Green only flew up a fourth of the way. Any more, and he was worried about what the sudden altitude would do to his Pidgeot (and himself). After landing on the trail, he recalled Pidgeot, and sent out Arcanine. Together they made the trek up the mountain, Arcanine being a strong asset with his flame burst melting away any icy obstacles. Once at the summit, Green called Arcanine back and tried to calm the anxiety pulsing through his veins. Finally, he pushed himself into the man-made cave. A fire was dying, crackling softly, a blackened pot of melting snow sitting in the ash. There was a sleeping bag by the fire, a knapsack of supplies, but no one in sight. Figures Red wouldn't be here when Green finally decided to show up. Green, freezing, decided to get the fire going again. He noticed a pile of sticks, bits of wood and branches off to the side, and utilized some of them to bring life back to the fire. Green didn't remember falling asleep. He opened his eyes to yellow, a little dark nose sniffing at him. "Pika?" It murmured. Green sat up immediately, looking at the creature. A blanket slid off him, and he heard a shuffling behind him. He turned towards the noise, seeing a figure bent over the knapsack that sat against the wall. They were tall, slender, slightly muscular and pale, much too pale. Their clothes were too small on them, ragged around the edges. They weren't even wearing long sleeves! They turned, and a familiar red pair of eyes bore into Green's brown ones. "Red." He said, surprised. Red blinked at him, and gave a curt nod. Green brought some food, so they heated it up and ate it in lieu of the...well, whatever it was Red had been going to eat. Things were okay. Green didn't speak of where they left off, and neither did Red. To be more specific, Red did not speak. He never really did, anyway. The selective mute only spoke to his mother, and to Green. But that was then. -- It became a bi-monthly thing. Green visited Red on his mountain, updated him about things, provided him with food and some proper clothes ("those clothes are from when you were eleven! Eleven!") and just...enjoyed his company. He kept a distance, unsure what his friend was feeling. In their time apart, his ability to read Red became rusty. He wasn't going to push it further. (They talk things out) "You think you'll ever leave this mountain?" Green asked him one day. Such a question clearly surprised Red, but his expression flattened. It's obvious. Green's lack of response led him to sigh, a bit flustered, and then...he nodded. One day. It's not time yet. -- "Green! Did you hear the news?" His Grandfather shouted over pokegear. "Mt. Silver had an avalanche." -- Few were skilled enough to be permitted entrance to Mt. Silver, and fewer took the challenge. Because of this, it was no surprise that there were no trainers to account for. None except one, anyway. Green took to Mt. Silver on his Pidgeot. Circling the top of the mountain was a Charizard– Red's Charizard– roaring for it's master. When it spotted Green, it immediately flew to him. Red was nowhere in sight. Green's stomach tightened, his heart beating faster. "Where's Red?" He asked. Charizard swooped back down to the mountain. Green followed. Charizard had been carefully clearing mounds of snow with his flamethrower. Still, there was no sign of his trainer, or even Pikachu. Green swallowed thickly, and sent Pidgeot to search via the air, to let him know if he saw anything. He called out Arcanine, and had him work on the snow with Charizard. Green searched the mountain, calling out for Red. It seemed like forever that they searched. Finally, Blue saw something yellow digging out of the snow, and he ran towards it, calling for Growlithe and Charizard. It was Pikachu, ice cold and consciousness waning. Green scooped him up and took off his muffler, using it to wrap un Pikachu. "Pikachu, where's Red?" He asked gently, eyes desperate. Pikachu murmured and looked towards the hole he'd dug. Growlithe dug and Charizard used his flame thrower with extreme caution. Moments later, Growlithe pulled a figure out of the hole. Red was unconscious; his breath barely there and his heart beating slowly. He was as pale as a corpse, his lips a purplish color He was alive. Green choked on tears as he called 911, his voice breaking as he called for help. -- Green rode with Red in the helicoptor. He couldn't not do so–like hell he was going to leave that idiot alone again. Red miraculously had no injuries, but was severely hypothermic. They put him on oxygen and fluids, and made efforts to raise his body temperature. That evening, as Green watched as Pikachu slept on the still unconscious Red's chest, he made a decision. You'll go back to that mountain over my dead body. -- Green was asleep when Red woke up. It was a picture perfect scene; sunlight cascading over his back in streaks. Pretty. He thought simply. He then took in his surroundings, making note of the blankets piled over him and the tube from his arm. He pieced together what happened. Green had saved his life. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. He gently pet Pikachu who was curled up beside him, pika-ing softly as he was roused from sleep. Seeing who woke him, Pikachu nuzzled his head into his trainers palm, making a noise of delight. Red smiled at him, feeling oddly at peace. The noise from Pikachu made Green stir, and he sat up in his chair, rubbing his eyes. Seeing Red sitting up, he sobered, and marched over him, grabbing him by the collar like he had many times before. Red didn't flinch.
I'm sorry red my baby boy
Green wasn't sure how it had started exactly. He was playing on some server one day, and when he called for backup, only one player had answered. Red_96– their screen name. Afterwards, Green added him as a friend. Whoever he was, he was good, and Green had to know how. Of course, Red_96 was a pretty quiet guy. He never really chatted, much less about himself. He barely responded to messages with words– and when he did, they were short, clipped responses. "Fine." "Ok." "No." and so on. If Green needed him in game, though, he'd be there. At first it was a bit off putting, but Green got over it. He filled the messenger space with his own words. One day, out of the blue, someone on Green's team spoke through their headset. It was a quiet voice, but rough and full of uncertainty. "...need'a hand." It turned out to be Red_96. Green nearly fell out of his desk chair. Green couldn't do anything but oblige. Later, he messaged Red. i was starting to think u couldnt talk. how come your always so quiet? He'd asked innocently. nm to say was the reply he got. That was five years ago. Since then, Red had actually started to speak. Well, he did over messenger, at least. Now, with Green turning 18, and once again moving countries, he made a decision. "Hey, you live in Kanto, right?" Green asked one day. Yea I'm moving there to Viridian. Are you close? I was thinking maybe we could meet up. It was awhile before he got a reply. Ok. That was all he needed. -- Green was beyond excited. He didn't tell anyone about his meeting– "You still play that game?" "Green, it's dangerous! They could be a murderer!" – to avoid lectures he knew by heart. Finally, Green was back in Kanto, in his native country. He forgot how undeveloped it was in comparison to Kalos, how so much of it was still grassy fields. The day of the meeting came, and Green could only think about what Red_96 told him. wearing a baseball hat. white w red panel He arrived an hour early, and paced the fountain before settling down on a bench. He busied himself with his phone, trying to distract himself with forum threads as time went agonizingly slow. The hour passed, and there was no sign of the red baseball cap. Green was both disappointed and relieved. And then he saw it. He was surprised by how attractive Red was. His fair skin and soft-looking dark hair. It was disappointing that most of it was covered with that tacky cap. They made eye contact, and the beauty nodded, coming to sit next to him. "You're Red 96, right?" He managed, trying not to stare too much. Red simply nodded. "I-I'm greenrulez1. My name is actually Green–Green Oak." He said, rambling a bit. "So what's yours? What do I call you?" He asked. Red_96 stared at him, and blinked once. Green was...confused. And feeling very awkward. Red never was chatty online, but this was rather uncomfortable. "Like, your name. You have a name, right?" He pressed. Red looked off to the side. "...Red." Red said. His voice was scratchy and quiet–Green wouldn't have heard him if he hadn't been listening. "Okay, Red. Red and Green, huh...
Green wanted to be better, and in doing so, made everything a challenge, regardless of the feelings of those around him. He was harsh– he rubbed his victories in others faces and took his losses hard. Red wanted his friend back. He didn't understand why Green had changed like this– he wondered if it was his fault. It took a toll on him. He convinced himself that in order to get Green back, he'd need to join the competition. He'd become champion, and everything would go back to the way it was. It was their dream, after all. But the road to becoming champion was hard. And it was lonely. Only his Pokemon were there for him, able to understand him and vice versa. Red was mute– he couldn't speak. Red had what Green lacked; he had empathy for the creatures. He took care of them and had bonds with them that were stronger than those of others. He pushed forwards. Team rocket, they were called. They made his blood boil. Stealing Pokemon was wrong– forcing Pokemon to do things was wrong. He fought himself between his priorities-- in the end, he couldn't ignore it. He stopped them. With all 8 badges in hand, he made his way to Victory Road, to the Indigo Plateau. Upon defeating the elite four, he was surprised to learn that the Champion...was Green. They battled. Red won. But he didn't feel like a winner. He felt unsatisfied, miserable and (seeing his ex best friend so upset) guilty. He wanted to go after green, but he couldn't. Hearing praise from Prof. Oak but not to Green felt wrong. I don't deserve this. Why did I want this in the first place?
Winning was supposed to feel good. He was supposed to be happy, to be excited and fulfilled– he'd just accomplished his dream! But it didn't. He wasn't. His chest ached. The people that flooded into the room cheered for him, and it left him feeling hollow. Did he really deserve this? The weight of his guilt and the demand for his attention, the noise from the crowd and the way his ex-best friend had walked off– he was completely overwhelmed, and he started to panic. His Pikachu nuzzled him, looking at him with concern. I need to get out of here. He decided, hands shaking. At the first opportunity that presented itself, Red left. -- -- He wandered a bit before he came across it. Mount Silver was breathtaking. The scenery was beautiful, lush wintery Green's and the glittering of the snow. With nothing better to do, and determination, Red climbed. It was exhausting. He encountered so many Pokemon – all of them strong, but not as strong as his – and it had taken him a few days to reach the summit. He felt like he could breathe, finally. He was truly alone up here, aside from the Pokemon. He hadn't come across a single trainer the entire time. He supposed it was too difficult for most. On the mountain, it was just him and the Pokemon. No one to recognize him, no one to expect anything of him; no one to disappoint.
Routine When Gold– the goofy young trainer who was so much like him but simultaneously not at all –told him about the legendary trainer of Mt. Silver, Green immediately knew who it was. His heart starting pounding hard– he's out there, he's alive, there's a chance –and he laughed despite himself. Three fucking years– three entire, lonely, agonizing years– and Red had never been far at all. Back to the present, Gold continued speaking. "I'm gonna be the first one to beat him." He said, fire burning in his eyes. If anyone else had said this to him, Green would have laughed. But this kid, the Champion of Kanto and Johto, the final nail in Team Rocket's dissolution– Green believed him. That night, Green sat in his apartment at his desk, Eevee curled up next to his arm as he wrote. For years he had been thinking what he'd say to Red if he had the chance, so it didn't take much effort to compose his letter. He sealed it in an envelope, and sighed, giving Eevee a scratch behind her ear. He met Gold outside the Pokemon center. This clearly surprised the boy, but he seemed genuinely happy besides. "Oh, Mister Green! What are you doing here?" He asked. Green pulled out his envelope in response, holding it out towards Gold. "Can you make sure that gets to him?" He asked simply. Gold stared at him for a moment, big eyes blinking at him. He clearly had questions. Then he smiled, and nodded enthusiastically. "Sure!" Gold said. Green thanked him, and then they said their goodbyes. He watched as Gold took off for Mt Silver on the back of his Dragonite. Now all that was left to do was wait. It had been five days by the time Gold finally rang him. Gold looked happy, as always. "I lost!" He said, smiling earnestly. Green stared at him via the screen of his Pokegear. "Why do you sound happy about it." He asked blankly. "Huh? Well, why should I be sad? I'm gonna beat him next time!" Gold said enthusiastically. Green was skeptical. " is, is he?" He asked. "Hm? You mean Mister Red?" Gold asked. "He's good! I mean, he's really good! He took my whole team out and he didn't even say a word. Is he always so quiet? Oh, he's really nice, though! He made me some coffee and let me stay the night! He seems kinda lonely. His Pokemon are super–" "Strong? Monstrous? Yeah, don't even get me started on that Pikachu." Red reread the piece of paper over again. I'm sorry was all that was written, aside from a pokegear number and an address. His chest ached whenever he looked at it, but he couldn't put it away. Gold won. Finally. It had taken several tries, of course– Red, the Red wasn't to be taken down easily. Green took a photo with Gold. How could he not? He hoped, hoped, this would be what brought Red back from the mountain. Green had been visiting home often as of late. Loitering a bit– waiting. "You're waiting for him, aren't you?" Daisy asked him one night, as they cleaned up dinner. Green sighed, a reaction Daisy had not been expecting. "He can't be up there forever. I mean, what else is he waiting for? What else could there possibly be?" Green asked, desperate. "" She supplied. Green was climbing Mt Silver. He was doing it. His sister was good enough to make him something to eat– something he could share with Red. He also packed some supplies– first aid stuff, potions and some fresh blankets. Green flew halfway up on his Pidgeot. He stopped halfway, taking time to get rid of the ice that clung to it's wings. Then he returned it, and climbed. Green almost cried in joy at the sight of the summit. The climb up seemed never ending, as did the amount of Ursaring he kept running into. Luckily, he had his other Pokemon on him. Green entered the cave, glancing around. No one was inside at the moment, but someone had been– a fire was dying, and there were small piles of berries and things assorted by the wall, plus a bag with quite a lot of medicine and a rolled up sleeping bag. Fine. Green would wait. He rekindled the fire, and called out Eevee for some company. She was happy to oblige him, crawling into his coat for warmth. He laid his wet gloves and scarf over a rock to dry, and settled against the wall, waiting. He didn't know when he fell asleep. Regardless, it was dark– the cave was wholly lit by the fire. He then realized he was not alone. In front of him, putting a pot of snow over the fire, was Red. He was almost unrecognizable– but Green supposed he was the same. Pikachu seemed to notice he'd woke, and chu'd to his trainer, prompting Red to look at him. Red gave him a small nod. Green huffed. "Four years and that's it– seriously?" He said, more bitterly than he intended. Red looked away. "I– shit, fuck. I didn't mean...let's start over." Green sighed. "I brought you some stuff." He said, standing. Eevee jumped out of his coat and went to greet Pikachu, both Pokemon very happy to see eachother. Green pulled out the supplies intended for Red, and the food Daisy made them. "So, uh. Training, huh?" Green said, trying to cover up the awkward tension. It didn't work, of course. Red stirred his pot of snow– now water –and added a small cloth pouch to it. "You make your own tea?" Green asked, intrigued. Red looked at him again, and nodded, quirking a brow, as if to say duh. Green scoffed. "Okay, nature man." Conversation flowed more easily after that. It was one sided– which Green expected, considering the gap between them– but nice. Red listened to Green intently. Green spent the night. Obviously, he wasn't going to climb down a mountain so late– that was a death wish. Instead, he borrowed one of the blankets he'd brought Red, and used his bag as a pillow. Red made some kind of stew for breakfast. There was something resembling meat in it, and Green was afraid to ask exactly what it was. "Hey?" Red looking at him questioningly. "Come home, Red." He said finally. The answer was as expected. Red looked away, his eyes hidden under the brim of his cap. Green left. It was about a week later when, right after Green had gotten home one evening, someone knocked on his door. He opened the door, expecting mail, and did a double take. "...Red?" -- There was a brief moment of silence before Red– covered in cuts and scrapes –collapsed, falling forward into Green's arms. Pikachu hopped off Red's shoulder, and tried to get the attention of his master. "Red? Hey, Red?" Green said, panicked. The other boy didn't respond– he was passed out, his entire weight on Green. "Red?" Green tried again, louder. Red didn't stir. Green half-dragged half-carried him inside. Green managed to get Red to the guest bedroom and into bed. Pikachu had followed, ever loyal to his trainer, and jumped up onto the bed to Red's side. Ears drooping, he licked at a cut on Red's cheek. Green wondered what happened– sure, Red looked rough the last time he saw him, but this was a bit...much. Senses kicking in, he placed the back of his hand to Red's forehead. Sure enough, he was burning up. "Think you can help me, sparky?" He asked Pikachu. Really, he never liked the electric rodent– a feeling that was mutual –but he felt like he somehow needed to cheer it up. It's ears raised slightly, and it nodded. "Okay, listen up. Watch over Red here while I go get some things, yeah?" Pikachu nodded, perked up and determined. "Pii!" It said. Green filled a bowl with warm soapy water and got a washcloth. Grabbing the first aid kit, he returned to the guest room. Green wiped the dirt off of Red and cleaned his wounds, bandaging the worst ones. Then he switched out the soapy, now lukewarm water for clean, cold water, and got a clean washcloth. This, he soaked, wringing it out slightly before placing it on Red's forehead. Green checked on Red before he went to bed, and when he got up in the morning. He took off today– the gym would be closed, but his trainers would be training. Eevee was sleeping at his feet, the traitor– next to Pikachu, no less. Green made coffee and poured Eevee and Pikachu some food. He'd feed the others later, since most were too large for his apartment and he had to do it outside. He made himself some toast and munched on it, thinking about what to do. As he mulled it over, the door to the guest bedroom swung open, and there was Red, disoriented and panicked. He leaned against the door frame heavily, breathing hard. Green hadn't seen him like this before. -- "...Red?" Green croaked. Red didn't respond, only stood there– he was dirty, covered in cuts and bruises, and he clutched at him side. Before Green could invite him in, Red's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. Green caught him, and shook him, trying to get his attention. "H-hey! Wake up!" He tried. -- To Red, Mt Silver was safe. It was his own place where he was out of the eye of the public– and away from those he could hurt. He knew Green hurt when he won. He hurt, too. He'd done this all to show Green that he was capable of doing things, that he was good enough– to make Green look his way. But it didn't work. He could breathe on Mt Silver. But there was something else. That something was mewtwo. He made it his mission to help it. But Mewtwo is dangerous– he couldn't let it out near other people. It'd attempted taking his life multiple times, and he had the scars to prove it. So Red's trying to train Mewtwo. He intends to release it when he sees fit. It's done him a great deal of harm; he's excessively violent and really quite afraid. He doesn't trust humans. ALTERNATIVELY wild Pokemon lol -- Like this could turn into a HELP ME HELP MEWTWO kind of thing or just. "I lost. It was time to come home." Green's like "okay but like. This is my house." that's gay buddy Also later when they're like 19 @ the champions tournament happens & they gay after the tournament green goes to Kalos. he has to leave red behind :( He's only in Kalos for a few months. He comes back just in time for his 20th birthday they turn 22 & someone proposes
so, this one is something I actually posted on ao3, then started working on another chapter. And then,, I hated it so I kind of rewrote most of it
Routine When Gold– the goofy young trainer who was so much like him but simultaneously not at all –told him about the legendary trainer of Mt. Silver, Green immediately knew who it was. His heart started pounding hard– he's out there, he's alive, there's a chance –and he laughed despite himself. Three fucking years– three entire, lonely, agonizing years– and Red had never been far at all. Back to the present, Gold continued speaking. "I'm gonna be the first one to beat him." He said, fire burning in his eyes. If anyone else had said this to him, Green would have laughed. But this kid, the Champion of Kanto and Johto, the final nail in Team Rocket's dissolution– Green believed him. That night, Green sat in his apartment at his desk, Eevee curled up next to his arm as he wrote. For years he had been thinking what he'd say to Red if he had the chance, so it didn't take much effort to compose his letter. He sealed it in an envelope, and sighed, giving Eevee a scratch behind her ear. He met Gold outside the Pokemon center. This clearly surprised the boy, but he seemed genuinely happy besides. "Oh, Mister Green! What are you doing here?" He asked. Green pulled out his envelope in response, holding it out towards Gold. "Can you make sure that gets to him?" He asked simply. Gold stared at him for a moment, big eyes blinking at him. He clearly had questions. Then he smiled, and nodded enthusiastically. "Sure!" Gold said. Green thanked him, and then they said their goodbyes. He watched as Gold took off for Mt Silver on the back of his Dragonite. Now all that was left to do was wait. It had been five days by the time Gold finally rang him. Gold was a happy kid– always wearing a goofy smile with his cheeks rosy. When he was especially happy, his eyes actually sparkled. Green didn't know that was even possible. Green answered his Pokegear as soon as his fingers would allow, Gold's face filling the screen. He was grinning, cheeks and nose red from the cold– his eyes had that sparkle to them, and Green knew immediately. "You actually beat him." Green deadpanned. It was definitely a wound to Green's pride– he'd never beaten Red, not once. "How did you know?" Gold asked sincerely, not fazed by Green seeing through him. "He was so strong and cool and– just– wow! He didn't say a word! He just battled me, and then he vanished! I don't know how he did it!" Gold exclaimed. The view of the pokegear shook as Gold jumped in victory, excitement still pumping through his veins. Green's heart started thumping in excitement– maybe this was it. Maybe Red was done? He grinned, not thinking further than that. "Swing by the gym when you're back in Viridian, I'll treat ya!" That was uncharacteristic of himself. But Green couldn't help it– he was excited! "Wowow, really!? Okay!" Gold said. "Oh, I gotta go, someone's trying to call me! See ya later, Mister Green!" With that, the young champion hung up, leaving Green to his thoughts. He hoped, hoped, this would be what brought Red back from the mountain. That this would be what brought Red home. -- It had been a few days since Gold's victory. There was no sign of Red– Green was tempted to climb Mt Silver himself and find him, but instead he just focused on his gym. He'd been choosing to work late– staying in his office and doing paperwork, or getting in some more training. As such, Green got home pretty late. This particular evening, it was 9 o'clock by the time Green left– and pouring down rain. He knew if he was still living with his Gramps, his sister would be giving him an earful about working so late . But he lived on his own now, in a lonely, empty apartment in Viridian. So, Green started the walk home, tightening his increasingly wet jacket around himself. Green made his way up the two flights of outdoor stairs to his floor. As he finished the second staircase, the closest street lamp fizzled out, leaving him in near-complete darkness. Great. Green didn't wait for his eyes to adjust. He just wanted to get inside, take a hot shower and curl up in his warm bed– was that too much to ask? As a result, he didn't see the obstruction in front of his door, and when he pushed his key in the lock and stepped forward with the door, he tripped. Green fell forward, and as he tried to regain his balance, he grabbed onto something soft and fuzzy. Whatever it was, it growled. "Chuu...!" In a flash of light with a yelp of shock, Green was electrocuted. After a moment of paralysis, Green realized he was now in the doorway of his apartment. Something had broken his fall, though, and the crappy mat by the door wasn't nearly plush enough for that. Green groaned, and lifted himself up enough to see what he'd fallen on. He met eyes with none other than mother fucking Red. "What the fuck." Green blurted. It wasn't even a question, and his words held no malice– he was just...he wasn't sure what was going on. Red looked at him painfully, and Green wasn't sure if it was just because he'd been fallen on. Green got off him, and Red got up after him. Pikachu hopped back onto Red's shoulder, shooting Green an offended look. Green scowled at the rodent, unintimidated. He turned back to Red, who was staring at him. He raised an eyebrow, and then noticed how different Red looked. His clothes were obviously too small– he obviously hadn't gone home. Green's stomach sank slightly at that. He knew Red's mother hadn't taken his disappearance well, and the guilt was heavy. Really, Red looked pretty atrocious– dirty and pale and covered in scrapes and bruises. Then Red raised his hands. It took him a bit to form what he wanted to say, and then for Green to understand. They were both a bit rusty with their sign language, anyway. Did not see you Was asleep Are you okay? Red looked at Green with concern. Green raised his eyebrows. "'m fine, man." He said. "You, on the other hand, look terrible." His words sounded joking, but they both knew he meant it. His concern wasn't lost on Red, who shifted his gaze towards the floor, adjusting his cap uncomfortably. This was going great. Green sighed. Was this how it was going to be between them? No. He couldn't accept that. "Alright. You clearly need to take a bath–" Green announced, making Red startle a bit. "–and that includes the rat." He narrowed his eyes at Pikachu, who glared back at him. Red shot Green a look for that, but hesitantly nodded, unsure if it would really be alright. Green grinned slightly, feeling the tensions in the room begin to ease up. "C'mon." Green said, leading Red towards his bathroom. "Use whatever. You know how to bathe. I use the stuff in the purple bottle for Eevee, but it's all safe for pokemon." He said, grabbing a towel from under the sink. Red looked slightly overwhelmed at the amount of products Green had around the tub. Green went to hand him the towel, and noticed this, glancing at the clusters of bottles. He held back a sigh, realizing Red probably had no idea what to do with any of it. Red probably didn't care about his hair like Green did– which was a little embarrassing, because Green is not obsessed! Probably. Maybe a bit. Green rolled his eyes, and grabbed a bottle of a honey scented shampoo, shoving it and the towel into Red's arms. "Just use this. I'm going to make something to eat. I'll put some clothes by the door." He said. With that, Green left the bathroom, leaving Red alone. -- Red -- Red turned on the faucet. Pikachu was looking over the side of the tub, watching the water fill it with interest. Red gave a small smile, feeling a bit more relaxed away from Green– but also more anxious. He was in Green's house. In Green's bathroom. Using Green's clothes. He was conflicted. Red thought Green hated him until the note Gold brought arrived. He thought Green was right to hate him, too! After all, he'd taken everything from Green– Green barely even had it. He'd hurt his friend. Even if Green had been a jerk, even if Green was a bully– Red killed his Raticate! Red was a coward– he ran from it all. And now Green was taking care of him? Why? Red hadn't noticed how hard he was squeezing the bottle of shampoo Green gave him. It had popped open, and was covering his hand. Pikachu nuzzled his leg. Right. Best to get on with this, then. He put the bottle down and stuck his hand under the faucet, letting the shampoo run off into the tub to become bubbles. Red took off his clothes, leaving them in a haphazard pile by the tub, along with his ratty old sneakers and hat. He slowly eased into the tub, his battered body aching. Pikachu hopped up onto the side of the tub and carefully dipped his little foot in, then eased himself in like his trainer. They sat there for a moment, then Red picked up the purple bottle Green said he used on Eevee. He squirted a bit into his hands, and gestured for Pikachu to stay still. "Pii...piiikaa..." Pikachu whined as his trainer rubbed the soap into his fur. Then Red scrubbed himself free of dirt and grime, he even washed his hair. -- "Pikapika!" Pikachu ran into the kitchen towards Eevee, who was very happy to see him. "Vui!" She ran around him in a circle. "Vui vui vui!" She stopped and looked at him with sparkling eyes. Green rolled his eyes, and turned as he heard Red come in. Green's clothes fit him fine, aside from the pants being just slightly too short. Red looked...older. Duh, Green thought. But Red looked attractive, really. His brown hair was still dripping, his pale skin making it look darker. He was tall and slender and God Green is gay. -- Red stared at his plate with surprise, then back up at Green. "What?" Green asked defensively. You can cook Red signed. Green scoffed. -- "'re living together." Leaf confirmed. "What? No, he's's not..." Green trailed off, thinking to himself. He sighed. "Okay. Yeah." "Have you kissed yet?" Leaf asked nonchalantly. Green inhaled the sip he'd taken of his soda, and started coughing, eyes watering. "What?!" He croaked between coughs. Leaf rolled her eyes. "Living together, sleeping in the same can't tell me that's just platonic, Green." She said. Green, finally re-composed, opened his mouth to retort and closed it, looking at Leaf flustered. He finally gave up and pointedly took a sip of his soda. -- Red was asleep on the couch when Green returned from the gym. Pikachu was curled up on the cushion above him, sleeping peacefully– Red must have been doing laundry, since there were clothes strewn about and folded up haphazardly. Green couldn't help but smile– it was sweet of Red to try and help out. Green went to the living room and put the laundry away, folding it neatly and stacking it in the basket. He crouched in front of Red to reach the last piece of clean clothing, and as he moved back he realized he was only inches from Red's face. He froze, his heart beating hard and his cheeks pink. He looked so kissable, sleeping so peacefully. Green couldn't look away from his lips, as chapped and pale as they were. Then, Red was looking back at him. Green hadn't realized when he woke up, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. Green was drawn in closer as Red looked at him with an unreadable look in his eyes. The kiss barely lasted a second, but as soon as Green realized what he'd done he sprung up, ears red and looking anywhere but Red. "I–uh, th-there's...uhh, something...I have to do! S-smell ya later..?" Green babbled, then went right back out. He didn't see how Red tried to call out for him. -- Leaf wasn't home, leaving one option– one he kind of wasn't ready for? -- Green sighed. After a beat, he started to laugh slightly. This– this whole situation –was so utterly fucking ridiculous, he couldn't help it. He felt many conflicting things, but on top of it all, he could only really think what the fuck?
The cheering in the stadiums fell on deaf ears as Red stared at his friend-turned-rival. They had both been down to their last Pokémon– Green's Eevee and Red's Pikachu. The battle was intense, and with a final thunderbolt, it was suddenly over. As Green recalled his Eevee, press swarmed onto the battle floor, crowding around Red. He tried to peer over them to see Green, but had no such luck– there were too many adults with their microphones in his face. He winced at the flash of cameras going off, feeling panic well up inside of him. "Trainer Red, how does it feel to be champion?" "Trainer Red! Can we get a statement?" "Mister Red, do you have anything to say–" "Red–" "Excuse me, Red–" Red was like a deer in the headlights. He just stood there, looking around with panic. Finally, his saving grace came in the form of Professor Oak. He was whisked off to the hall of champions. As Oak swore him in, he couldn't help but look at Green's place. His chest tightened. Why had he wanted this? Because it was his dream? No. It was their dream. They were supposed to have done it together. Red never felt more alone. -- Needless to say, spending four years on a mountain didn't help Red's social skills. He didn't really have any to begin with, though– he was never good at that sort of thing. So when a trainer actually made it to the summit, he didn't really know how to react. He had been making some tea at the time, so he just kind of...shoved a cup at the kid. The kid– Gold, he said his name was –gave a huge smile, and plopped down. He gratefully took a sip. Then, he started talking. "Ah, man! I didn't think I'd make it...this mountain is so HUGE!" Gold said, as if he was talking to someone he knew. Red just listened to him– it's not like he could do anything else. "Silver even said so! Oh– Silver is a friend of mine! Well, we didn't used to be friends, but he's a lot different now!" Gold continued, straying off-topic. Red was honestly surprised by how much energy the boy had. "He was kinda mean at first, but he's nice now! Well, sometimes he's kinda harsh, but that's just how he is!" Gold said, grinning and drinking the rest of his tea. "Oh, gosh! I was so busy talking, I didn't even let you introduce yourself! I'm sorry. What's your name?" Gold said, frowning slightly and looking at Red intently. Red was fine with it– he hadn't tried to, anyway. But now he was in a bit of a pickle. He couldn't speak– not to this kid. He thought for a second, then took off his hat and pointed to the red on it. Gold looked confused. "Your name is hat?" He asked. Red shook his head, pointing to it again. "Your name is...ball?" Again, Red shook his head. "Pokeball?" Red shook his head harder. "Red?" Red nodded, putting his cap back on. "Oh! It's nice to meet you then, Mister Red!" Gold said, grinning at him. Then he gasped, and jumped up, looking like he just had an epiphany. "Oh, that's right! I came here for a battle!" He said. Then he flashed that same chubby-cheeked grin, and pulled a pokeball off his belt. "Mister Red, I'd like to challenge you to a battle!" He announced. "What do you say?" The corner of Red's lips twitched. He nodded. Gold beat him. And Red never felt so free. He felt like a person for the first time since he came up the mountain. Like someone who wasn't untouchable– he felt grounded. The barrier he built himself to keep others out had been broken. Red was actually human. Before Gold left, he gave him a note. "Oh yeah! This is for you! See ya later, mister Red!" Was all he said before leaving. Red wanted to tell him to stay, almost. Red opened the envelope and read its contents. Tears welled up and fell without his consent, dripping onto the paper. Why was Green sorry? It was time to find out.
connected to the two drafts above, this was supposed to be a red pov thing but like. meh
Beginning again chapter 2; draft 2 "...Red?" Green croaked. Sure enough, in front of him stood Red, (now ex) champion of the Indigo League. He gave a nod. What else could Green do but invite him inside? Red was quiet. He plopped his things down by the wall and came in without removing his shoes, prompting Green to push him back to the entrance and force him to do so. Pikachu rubbed his head against Red's arm affectionately, and Green... Green was honestly a bit jealous– he had no idea what Red what thinking about right now. Something was wrong, though. Otherwise Red wouldn't have come here, he'd surely have gone home– which he clearly hadn't, seeing as he still wore the same clothes that were now worn and ragged, too small to accommodate four years of growth comfortably. Right? Red's stony expression softened slightly when Eevee ran up to him, allowing his calloused hands to stroke her beloved fur. After quietly watching Red for a bit, Green finally spoke. "What do...why..." He trailed off, and sighed. "What are you here for, Red?" Red gazed to the side, looking somehow ashamed. He hesitantly opened his mouth, then closed it, opting to use sign language instead. — — After quietly watching Red for a bit, Green finally spoke. "I– I didn't think you'd come back." Well. That wasn't what Green had been going to say. Though, he couldn't really remember what he had been going to say. Just something– anything to get rid of the tension. He quickly looked away, his thumbnails digging into his forefingers. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. "...Aahye–" The voice was hoarse and quiet, strangely accented, and abruptly stopped. Green's head snapped back up, looking at Red in surprise, his eyebrows raised. Red was staring at his hands, pensive. Finally, he glanced at Green, and brought his hands up in front of him, signing slowly, unsurely. I was— Red stopped briefly, and then started over. I'm sorry.
as a note red's on ability to speak, I have a few headcanons for him one being he is Physically Mute, another being selective mute, another being he's mute by choice & he just doesn't care for speaking, and another being be chooses not to speak bc of aphasia or something that makes him hard to understand
Kinda violent pokemon fic lmao?? Red used the wall for support as he staggered out of the cave. One leg was dragging behind him, the other the only thing keeping him moving. He left a trail of blood– bloody smears on the walls of cave, the floor beneath him littered with various puddles where he'd stopped to rest, droplets connecting them. He collapsed not ten feet from the exit, breathing hard through the reverberating pain. He had no choice. All of his Pokemon were hurt– not at all like he was –and he couldn't ask any more of them. He'd even forced Pikachu back into the pokeball it despised. Red choked on his pain as he forced himself to sit up, against the wall. He somehow managed to get his backpack off, and opened it with his teeth. He fumbled around inside of it, finally finding what he'd been searching for. It was cracked, but not as badly as he'd expected. And thank Arceus, it still worked. He sent a message to the only number he could remember, still clearer than his mother's. -- Green had been in the middle of his weekly visit with his sister when his Pokegear went off. He groaned. "Oh, answer it. It could be important! Maybe a date...?" Daisy winked. Green rolled his eyes, but checked his Pokegear anyway. What he saw sent his heart into a frenzy– something that didn't go unnoticed by his sister. "What's wrong?" Green didn't answer her, just showed her the screen of his Pokegear. It was a message from none other than Red. All it said was cerulean cave. Something was very not right about this. He hadn't spoken to Red in nearly four years– what was this, so suddenly? Something must be wrong, he realized. "Red...? But...I thought you haven't spoken to him in years?" Daisy asked. "...I've got a bad feeling about this." Green said, standing from his place on the couch. He grabbed his bag and hurried to the door. "Green, where–" "Sorry, I'll call you later, tell Gramps I said hey!" Green called, sending out his Pidgeot in the garden. Before Daisy could say another word, he was gone. -- On the shores of Cerulean cave, Green returned Pidgeot and sent out Arcanine. He wasn't able to give orders before Arcanine started sniffing the air, becoming tense and uneasy. Green followed as Arcanine very slowly, warily led them into the cave. Arcanine suddenly stopped, entirely still. Green could tell why– the smell of blood was so pungent he felt like he could taste it. Finally, he noticed the smear of red along the wall that stopped just behind a rock. He ran, heart pounding. There was Red, bloody and broken and barely conscious– Green felt the adrenaline pump through his blood, terrified. He didn't hesitate to rush to his ex-rival's side, taking his face in his hands. "Red! Red, look at me. Look at me." He said, voice wavering. Red's glazed over eyes focused on him, as much as they could with the bare threads of consciousness behind them. Green wasted no time in calling over Arcanine, and slung Red over it's back. They hurried out of the cave as fast as they could, and Green called out Pidgeot, who helped Red onto it's back. He got on behind Red, holding onto him tight as he returned Arcanine. "Pokemon center, hurry." He said. They took off. -- Naturally, the closest Pokemon center was in Cerulean City. As soon as they landed, Green dismounted Pidgeot and led them inside in a hurry. The nurse at the counter looked up with a smile, one that quickly faded as she saw Red. "Help." Was all Green said– all he could say, really. He was quickly going numb, not understanding what was going on anymore. The nurse shouted for more staff, and the rest was a blur. Green woke up on one of the benches in the pokemon center around 6 am. He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure if he'd dreamed everything or not. Then he realized the blood on his jacket and knew it had all been real. He sighed. What had happened? Red was so...beaten up. Who had done this? What had done this? As if on cue, the nurse from earlier approached him. "Your friend's injuries are very severe. Do you know what put him in such a state?" She asked. Green shook his head. "He sent me a text with his location, so I came. When I got there, he was already..." Green trailed off. "Is he gonna be okay?" He asked. The nurse smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, but it's too early to tell for sure." She said. "His Pokemon are healing well on the other hand, though they seem panicked about something. We had to sedate his Pikachu, the poor thing..." the nurse sighed. "I'll keep you posted." "Thank you." Green said. The nurse returned to her station. Green pulled out his Pokegear and checked the time. He also realized his grandfather and sister had tried to contact him quite a few times. Better let them know he's not dead. Green went over to the rows of video phones and sat down at one. First, he dialed the number for the Viridian City gym, and let them know he wouldn't be coming in today. "But. That doesn't mean the rest of you get to slack off. Stick to your training! I'll know if you haven't. Smell ya." He told them. Then he called home. "Hel– oh, Green!" It was his Grandfather who answered, though he'd put a 50/50 chance of either Daisy or him answering the video phone. They were both morning people, after all. "Hey, Gramps. I must've been asleep when you called, s'been kinda crazy over here." Green sighed. "Your sister was terribly worried. She said something about Red, and Cerulean cave?" His grandfather said inquisitively. "Ah, yeah." Green said. Then he explained the text he'd gotten, and how he'd rushed off to the cave, how he'd found Red. "I don't know what happened, t'be honest. I just...found him like that." Green recounted, running his hands over his face. "I see...Green, do you recall the old mansion on Cinnabar island?" Oak asked. "Mansion?" Green asked. Then he remembered the old place– the wreckage, the creepy statues and the cryptic documents detailing a artificial pokemon. "Mewtwo." Green said. "But what does that have to do with Red?" "Four years ago, I sent Red to Cerulean cave to find
remember when I said I'm a huge fucking sadist uh yeah
tooru0: (Default)
2017-01-16 07:44 am

Unfinished Spamano story dump

The first in what is likely to be a series of posts.

Today we focus in particular on an AU that really changed a LOT, but I could never keep it going. Sorry if it's confusing, my writing process is messy and there are scenes missing, all of which I skipped writing at the time to plan them better in my head.

Grandma Romulus is a ghost. Him and Lovino live in a house tucked into the line of trees where the wood begins. They have many secrets, which they keep from Feliciano, Lovino's naive little brother.

Not all ghosts are vengeful. Romulus is true to himself, unchanged despite being dead. He doesn't really have a body, but he can manipulate things. His wish is that his grandson, Lovino, can be happy.

Lovino is not a bad person. He is stubborn and moody, and he has no reservations in letting you know so. He isn't popular, he never has been. His duty has always been to look after his family. In doing so, he has many burdens. His stubbornness is why he must do his tasks alone. His stubbornness is why he refuses to seek someone to share the workload with him, or to find any friends. He only thinks about what's best, and it's always very cold and critical. He sleeps with a pistol tucked into his pants and a knife under his pillow.

Antonio is a photographer. He moves to the wet, dreary and wooded town for a change of scenery, and for his work. He's fascinated by everything, how dry it gets in summer, the chill of fall and the heavy snow in winter.

But even more, he's fascinated by a certain Italian man. His stubbornness, his moods. He's intrigued in ways he never had been by others, and he wants to learn more about the man. Lovino is mysterious and tightly wound, and he's determined to get to know him.

Feliciano is worried about Lovino, living alone since their grandfather died. He knows nothing about the truth. He lives out of state, attending art school.


Lovino stood in the doorway, taking off anything that was slick with red or mud. He shivered, and took the old towel off the old chair that sat there, curling into it for warmth.

He was numb, not only from the cold. He'd have to do some scrubbing later. For the time being, he held his towel around his shoulders and covered the mess on his porch with a tarp, so anyone who may come by doesn't see the red mess.

"Lovino, go and take a hot bath. Get the dirt off of you, then you can eat and tell me how it went!"
His nonno appeared nearby, smiling in a paternal way. But his eyes held a sadness to them, regrets, as always.

Lovino obeyed, and went to soak himself in the hot water. He filled the tub with water hot enough to fog the bathroom, and used a bit of the cherry blossom bubble bath his fratellino sent him for his birthday. He lowered himself into the water carefully, feeling the tingly static of his numb toes and legs as they regained feeling.
"Ay!" He yelped, water searing into a nasty cut on his side. He hadn't noticed it, and he cursed, feeling like an idiot for not realizing it. But Lovino didn't feel like getting out of the tub, and so he continued to slowly lower into the bath, hissing in pain as the water stung his wound.

Once in, Lovino let himself relax.
Today had been, well...
He came across a group of hostile redcaps earlier, right where Abel told him they'd be. The little gnomes were barely a foot tall, but those fuckers were incredibly dangerous, and their thirst for blood was terrifying. Lovino suspected one of them must have grabbed onto him and clawed him or even bit him, considering the many razor sharp teeth they possessed.

At least he was safe, here. He took down the nest and returned home, as was his duty. His ghostly Grandfather phased his head into the room.
"Dinner's ready! I hope you like stew~!" Romulus said cheerily.
Lovino said nothing. He was too tired to fight, and he just wanted to eat and sleep as soon as he could.
"I'll be out in a minute." He said, not sparing a glance as his grandfather nodded and phased back out, presumably to the kitchen.

Lovino came out a few minutes later, dressed in warm sweats and fuzzy socks. He took care of any cuts and scrapes he'd gotten, and silently ate.

He could feel sad ghostly eyes on him again, and he sighed, knowing what was coming next.
"You know you don't have to do this, Lovino. Leave it to Abel, or the men at–"
"Emma passed me on the way back. She says she hopes you're doing well." Lovino said, ignoring his Grandfather's words. He stood up with his empty dish and went to the sink, turning the tap on and grabbing the sponge used for washing. What point was there in replying when it was always the same? Lovino, you don't have to do this. I've always done this, Nonno.

Lovino washed the dishes silently.
"...I'll be in the living room if you need me, okay? I love you, Lovino." Romulus said warmly. Lovino paused.
"...I love you too, nonno." He said, not taking his eyes off the dishes. Romulus smiled and phased through the wall of the kitchen, as he was prone to doing rather than using doors. Lovino finished the dishes, putting them on the rack to dry. He went around to the living room, pausing at the foot of the stairs.
"Goodnight." He said, meeting his Grandfather's eyes.
He ascended the stairs as Romulus bid him goodnight in turn, and went directly to his room. Lovino fell asleep quickly, his hand loosely curled around the switch-blade he kept under his pillow.


Lovino climbed out of his truck, a 1988 Toyota pickup his Grandfather stubbornly stuck by until the end. He drove along the dirt road as long as he could, but now was forced to continue on foot, as the path into the forest was blocked by a fell tree. He checked to make sure he had everything– keys, switch-blade, pistol, salt, holy water and cross– and climbed over his obstacle.

Pistol in hand and ready for any possible threat, Lovino made his way into the forest with caution. He'd gotten reports of a

I kind of scrapped that entirely, and kept some key elements (the house, the desire for Lovino's happiness etc).

Romulus only wanted his Grandsons to be happy.

When he died without seeing his wish come true, he ends up unexpectedly haunting his former home.


Lovino Vargas lives on the outskirts of a small town, the kind of town ererrewhere everyone krnrows everyone and word spreads fast. While he deals with the death of his Grandfather, he meets a man wandering around by his house.

Lovino works at a bar in town. He's trying to decide what to do with his Grandfather's business, a small cafe in town.

Antonio is a photographer. He's mesmerized by the fall scenery and the old wooden rancher that peeks out of the forest on the edge of town. The town is charming, the people are interesting, and he's intrigued by Lovino.

Feliciano is a student a couple hours from his brother. He's very worried about his brother without his grandfather around.

Lovino's life seems to have taken a nosedive; first the car accident, then his grandfather dying, now his brother breathing down his back. He's got big decisions to make, and now he's even more alone than before. Plus there's some asshole who keeps loitering outside his house.


Lovino's morning routine went like this; he got up, made his coffee, and checked his voicemail. Then, he'd get up and run errands or something.


"Ciao, fratello! How has your leg been? Are you eating properly?? Are you going to your appointments??"
The voicemail his younger brother left plays on speaker while Lovino makes himself a cup of coffee. He's always fussing over Lovino, even though Feliciano is the younger one.

His voicemails are always the same "Are you taking care of yourself?". Feliciano was a mess after their Grandfather died, and Lovino didn't blame him. Lovino himself was just as shaken, but it really began to reverberate once he realized he was on his own.

He loved his Grandfather, really. He lived with him all his life, and took care of him when he got old. He harbored some resentment towards the old man, but he did love him.
Now...without him, in the old house they had lived in, Lovino was alone. He didn't have a purpose. He didn't have a means, either-- his car was wrecked, and he had a broken leg.

The shop his Grandfather owned, a


The large, wooden country home at the edge of town loomed out from it's spot where it was partially hidden by bright autumn leaves. Cold air filled the house, and it's sole inhabitant didn't seem to care. With three bedrooms and a lot of open space, the once warm house was lonely. Only one person lived there now, who was currently curled up in an old armchair with an equally old blanket, and a pad of paper, and pen in his lap.

Lovino clicked his pen


Even before Antonio saw him the first time, he was intrigued.

Ever since he moved to the small town, he had been fascinated with the large, empty-looking wooden country house on the edge of the neighborhood. He was charmed by how it stuck out from the forest, clearly built before residential developments began. It was littered with fallen leaves on the porch, the roof and in the gutters. The driveway and path was covered with them, and his imagination ran wild.

Who lived there? Anyone?
A ghost?
Maybe the house was haunted?

It was nearly a week before Antonio saw him the first time.

A young man opened the door, sweeping the wet blanket of dead leaves back in a layer. Antonio stared at him.
Olive skin and brown hair, paired with hazel eyes and a frown that seemed default. He had a flyaway on the side of his head and it was somehow incredibly endearing. He wore a red and white scarf that went well with his green parka. He locked eyes with Antonio, surprised by a stranger on his property and put off by the fact that said stranger was staring at him.
"Can I help you...?" He said, looking rather irritated. His Italian accent was obvious, and Antonio swore he was melting.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I was just admiring your house. I was wondering who lived here!" Antonio said, cheerfully candid.
"...right." The man said. He then chose to ignore Antonio, locking up the house and carefully walking down the slippery, leafy steps.
"Ah, wait! I'm Antonio! I moved to town recently! What's your name?" Antonio said, catching up to his quick stride. The man rolled his eyes, opening the door to his old, beat-up station wagon and getting inside.
"Get out of my driveway." He said, turning the ignition. Antonio backed up, frowning as the man drove off.

But he wasn't giving up here.


Behind the house, in the forest, was a rather steep hill leading to a lake. The lake was small, rather muddy. It had become overtaken by nature, and with the colorful autumn foliage surrounding it, Antonio couldn't resist.

With one knee planted on the even ground behind him, and one foot dug into the wet drop of the hill, Antonio steadied himself. He had his camera up to his eyes, stilling himself and concentrating. Others who saw him when he was working were rather surprised– as he worked, his expression stiffened in concentration, lips drawn in a little frown. He was clearly in love with his work.

Antonio was so engrossed, he didn't realize that the moody, Italian owner of the property he was on had come right up next to him, radiating an intense aura of irritation.
"Oi, ass–"
"Ay!" Antonio yelped, jumping.

And then he was falling. But he wasn't alone-- the young man had grabbed the back of his shirt in an attempt to steady him, but was pulled forward instead.

Both tumbled down the hill, any attempt to stop thwarted by the slippery slope of mud from the heavy rain the previous day. They ended up in the cold, dirty lake, covered in mud and soaked to their skin.
They clambered out onto the banks of the small lake, coughing water out and gasping, shivering.
"O-oops?" Antonio offered, smiling apologetically at the smaller man. He received a burning glare and a scowl with chattering teeth in return.


Once they managed to get back to the top of the hill, Antonio was invited inside the house. Well, invited isn't really...
"In. Take your shoes and coat off at the door. Wash up, dry off, get out." The man told him shortly. Antonio took off his shoes and coat and was immediately pulled inside.
"You can borrow some of my nonno's clothes, they should fit you." The man continued, leading him to a bathroom. "The towels are under the sink. Don't take long."
Before Antonio could speak or ask any questions, he was shut in the room alone. He sighed, and started to peel off his wet, muddy clothes.


Clean and dry, Antonio left the bathroom, seeking the owner of the home. He found him in what appeared to be a living room, curled sitting on an old chair and drinking from a mug.
"Your shoes and coat are drying in the washing room." He said, handing another mug out to Antonio. It was a cup of coffee, all ready to drink.
"Oh, thank you." Antonio said, smiling and taking the mug. He sat in the other chair off to the side of the man, and took a sip from the mug. The coffee was perfect, the taste of the coffee coming out, not very bitter or too sweet.
"This is really good!" Antonio gasped, eyes sparkling at the man. He watched as he rolled his eyes, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Oh yeah, you never told me your name!" Antonio said. There was a pause.
"...Lovino Vargas." The man-- Lovino --said.


Everyday, Antonio made an effort to say hello to Lovino. He'd seen him more since that day, outside.

"Good morning!" Antonio said, grinning as he came up the driveway. He stopped at the steps to the porch, looking up at his neighbor who was raking leaves and mud off of it. Hazel eyes shot him a moody glance.
"What do you want?" Lovino asked, signature scowl falling into place.
"I just came to say hello!" Antonio said.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"What does it fucking look like." Lovino spat, rake grating against the wood of the porch.
"Okay. Then, I'll help you!" Antonio said cheerfully. Lovino stared at him, expression melting into one of surprise.
"I'm okay, I don't–"
"Do you have an extra rake? I can go get mine if we need it." Antonio said, clearly not listening to Lovino's refusal.

And the last iteration before completely scrapping the idea altogether.

"Ciao, fratello! How are you doing?? Have you been taking care of yourself? I miss nonno. I miss you, too! Oh. I have to go but call me back, okay? I love you, bye!"


"Ciao, fratello! Wait, wait– Luddy! Say hi to my brother!!"
"...H-hello, Lovino. I hope you are well–"


"Ciao, are you? Luddy is tutoring me...wish me luck! Call me back, okay? I love you. Really, call me back...promise?"

Lovino sighed, putting his phone down on the desk and putting his head in his hands. Feliciano called him everyday, and where he used to love to talk to his brother, he now dreaded it. He's the oldest, dammit, he can take care of himself.

Until recently, Lovino lived with his grandfather Romulus, in a large, wooden country house in the wooded part of his small town. Together they ran a cafe, a small cozy little place downtown. Lovino worked there with his brother and grandfather since it opened, when he was 15.

He continued to work there when he graduated highschool, not having any aspirations for himself and finding he really liked to cook, especially bake. Meanwhile, his brother--Feliciano--had gone to a university upstate when he graduated, several hours from their town.

Then, four months ago, his grandfather took a really bad fall while at work. While Lovino was working the counter, Romulus had been up on a ladder in the back, pulling a box down from the tall storing shelves. He lost his balance and fell, and as healthy and strong as the man was, he was old and still human.

Romulus ended up in awful shape, fracturing his tailbone and taking a

While in the hospital, he caught pneumonia. He died in August.

The funeral was large-- Romulus had many friends and was very well known by their community. It sort of passed by like a dream.

Except it wasn't. Now October, Lovino had never reopened the cafe. He wasn't sure if he would, even though he knew Romulus wanted him to keep it going. He spent most of his time sleeping, not going out much. His brother worried greatly for him.

It wasn't so much that Lovino missed his grandfather. He did, he loved the man, but...he felt like, now, he didn't really have a purpose. Dark thoughts came to him at night, challenging him.

The only person he spoke to about it was Emma, his childhood friend and co-worker. She was almost a sister to him, and she tried to support him. She sometimes brought him leftovers, and made sure to check on him every now and then. But now that they were adults, Emma only came to town in the summer. She left mid-September, having stayed just a bit longer for Lovino, but she did need to go home to her girlfriend eventually.

He was alone again.


Antonio travelled often. He took countless photos, photography being his long-time passion and hobby. He'd gone from the cities of Madrid to the shores of Wales, taking any opportunities to see something new he could find. Now, he found himself in a small American town, full to the brim of autumn scenery and charming locals. Immediately, he was charmed by a lonely, old wooden house at the end of his street, perched on the hill in front of a large multicolored forest.


Antonio, as he did everyday, strode up to the house at the end of the block. He hated the cold, but somehow, it had become much more bearable. Even welcome, in a way.

Seeing Lovino in the yard delighted him, and he quickened his pace a bit. Lovino noticed him and scowled, refocusing on the leaves he was raking.
"If you're here to take more photos or whatever, go ahead. I don't give a shit as long as you don't fuck with anything." He said shortly. Antonio just smiled.
"Thank you! But I came to see you!" He replied cheerily. Lovino blushed.
"What-why." He sputtered, looking at Antonio, scandalized. It was adorable.
"Because!" He said, chipper.
"What kind of reasoning is that..? Anyway, if you're here, you might as well make yourself useful. There's another rake in the shed." Lovino huffed.
"Sure!" Antonio accepted cheerfully, heading for the shed. Lovino raised an eyebrow, watching him.

Antonio returned with the other rake, and started gathering up the leaves into the pile Lovino had started.
"You're actually going to rake leaves for a stranger." Lovino deadpanned, looking at Antonio like he was an idiot. Antonio looked surprised, brow raised.
"I don't think we're strangers? I know your name, and you know my–"
"No, I mean! I don't know anything about you! You could be some kind of serial killer, or a pervert or psycho or something!" Lovino snapped, cutting him off.

Antonio stared at him for a moment.

And then burst out laughing. Lovino's face reddened.
"The fuck are you laughing at, you jerk?!" He shouted, horribly embarrassed. Antonio had tears in his eyes at this point.
"I-I're so cute, Lovi!" Antonio said honestly, smiling like a goofball. Lovino's blush further intensified, and he thought he was going to die, his heart was thumping horribly. Why was this bastard so kind? Why did he smile at Lovino like that?
"S-shut up, fucker!" He said defensively.
"It's true!"


Upon learning Antonio had never seen an episode of RuPaul's drag race, Lovino insisted he come in. They were watching it.

Antonio was hooked easily, and the two spent the night on Lovino's couch, marathoning the show until they couldn't stay awake any longer. Antonio learned a bit about Lovino during their watching-party– Lovino was an amazing cook. He made them dinner and shared some experimental treats he had made with Antonio, and Antonio wasn't sure if the sweet melted in his mouth or it made his mouth melt. He also learned that Lovino was absolutely gay and very much preferred to not play twenty questions during the commercials, Antonio. Lastly, Lovino lived alone in the large house. The circumstances of which, were there any, Antonio didn't ask.

Antonio woke up to the smell of coffee, his cheeks cold outside of the afghan that Lovino had no doubt put on him. Lovino could be heard from the kitchen, speaking in Italian over the phone. Antonio wasn't sure, but he thought Lovino sounded rather tired. He wondered if it was a result of staying up so late.
"...I'm fine, really. Don't be an idiot and fail your exams because of me. I'm going to see you in a few weeks anyway, stupid fratellino."
There was a pause. Lovino sighed.
"I don't know yet. But it's my damn business, not yours. So go find that German bastard of yours and study, because if you fail you're going to be eating an English Christmas supper!"
Lovino's voice had regained it's spark, a demanding tone that almost had an almost loving lilt to it, at that moment.
"Oh, we both know I'm not fucking around, Feliciano...Si. I love you too. Ciao."

Antonio didn't know Italian, but he was fluent in Spanish. So when Lovino said "te amo" he kind of instinctively honed in on it as he tried to understand what he was saying.

He wasn't sure how he felt.




Antonio scratched the back of his head, as he did when he was unsure of himself.
"Well, it's not that I don't think I'm no good at it or I don't like it, it's just...I've always had this feeling that what's meant for me is out there somewhere. I just haven't found it yet, I think..." He said, face contorted in thought.

Lovino stared at him for a moment.
"I don't really get it, but...good luck, I guess?" He said, feeling a bit awkward. Antonio's bright, warm smile instantly blew that away though, and Lovino's face heated up as he averted his gaze.


Today when Antonio visited Lovino's house, the man wasn't home. Antonio couldn't help but wonder what he was doing.

Lovino was a bit of a mystery to him. He was both transparent and somehow out of reach, distant.

Antonio set up his camera, focusing the shot on the line of trees in the distance. The setting sun shining against autumn leaves was a lovely thing to capture in his camera.

Truthfully, Antonio didn't really stop by to take photos anymore. He did still appreciate the rustic beauty of the old house, but any photos he did take were specific shots. Still, the reason he came by was Lovino. He wanted to get to know the man, learn about the world he had in his lonely house. He had a strange affection for the man, almost protective.


That day, Lovino went to the café for the first time in months.

It was a bit dusty, and very lonely. Almost automatically, he started cleaning.

He wasn't sure why he had come, or why he was cleaning in the first place. Maybe to ready it to sell, or to prepare for reopening. He didn't think about it too much, knowing he's only be adding to his stress.

Still, by the end of the day, the shop was clear of dust and most expired ingredients. The tables and counters were clean, the floor had been mopped. The only place Lovino hadn't gone was the storeroom.

He felt weak. Like he couldn't face it, not now. It was where his Grandfather had fallen, and essentially the place where his clock had started ticking. He felt like it was oddly detached.

Lovino looked at the clock on the wall. Despite all this time, the batteries hadn't run out yet. It was past five, and already dark out.

Lovino locked up and headed home.


When he pulled into the driveway and his headlights revealed someone sitting on his steps, he thought he was having a stroke. But then he realized it was just Antonio, and proceeded to smack his head against the steering wheel. He got out of his car and walked straight past Antonio, pulling out his keys as he casually fiddled with his doorknob. Antonio hopped up and came over to him, and Lovino swore if he were a dog he'd be wagging his tail.
"Lovi! I came by earlier, but–"
"Shut up and get in the house." Lovino said, lacking his usual bite. But Antonio did as he was told, following Lovino into the warm house.

It was quiet as Lovino made them some coffee. He shoved the first mug at Antonio, chastising him for sitting in the cold like that.
"Where did you go?" Antonio questioned, curiosity burning in his eyes. Lovino rarely went out, unless it was for groceries.


Antonio barely saw Lovino in the past few weeks. He felt oddly lonely, without the sharp tongue of his friend.


Antonio pulled Lovino into his chest, wrapping his arms gently around him. Sleep was sneaking up on them, their minds and bodies weary from the events of the day.
"Lovi." Antonio whispered. "I found what I was looking for."
Lovino smiled uncharacteristically, whether from exhaustion or everything altogether uncertain.
"You're damn right you have." He whispered back, snuggling into Antonio further. Antonio felt like he'd never stop smiling, and both males drifted off in the comfort of each-others presence.