#ANYWAY i was trying to keep things shorter today. alas.

[muzzleroars]

Was Gabriel able to retain or fix any of the relationships he had prior to his Fall? Considering how distressed he was with the changes he was going through he probably completely disregarded the idea of approaching the Ferryman, virtues or any other being for a long while in fear of their reaction and judgement. But I imagine with V1's help in bringing back his confidence, he may eventually regain the courage to reach out (assuming they aren't already trying to track him down.)

Having a greater support network outside themselves would be good for them both, as good to him as V1 is, there would be a lot of gaps it wouldn't be able to fill considering its naivety to topics outside its programming and the patchwork of experience it has developed. And it is a little unfair for it to be the sole bearer of Gabe's mental health (and vice-versa), even if it is more than willing to try. Also it would be sweet seeing V1 being able to investigate others who would normally be trying to kill it (you get that life experience, you funky little bug!)

Actually, would his fall, or his relationship with V1 be considered more 'controversal'? for the Virtues that might depend on when and how they died? At least with V1 being the only one of its model and presumably, only activated towards the end of the machine war, means the odds of encountering a Virtue it personally killed is very low.

I love your art and all the thought you put in to your world building (Unicorn Gabe is inspired) :)

waahhhh thank you!!!! and OH this is definitely something i want to talk about because gabriel does have relationships outside of v1 (and the opposite is true as well, although it's not as important nor "easy" for v1). i do have the idea that there are actually a couple of virtues that "fell" with gabriel, their dedication to him so full that they continue to follow him as they believe he must be right in what he did. he feels exceptionally responsible for them, but humans are not so rigid as angels are and they are not fully corrupt either as there is no god or council to punish them. so they sort of act as agents for him, bringing him news of heaven and its progression after his liberation, though they implicitly understand not to discuss his reputation. otherwise they try to continue doing their duties so as not to attract attention, staying quiet and tracking the movements of the other angels in hell since well....they're sort of where any sympathy for gabriel's situation ends.

those other angels are grieved by his presence and any time they come in contact with him, he is doggedly pursued while they cry out lamentations for the late archangel. he doesn't wish to engage them but that can be difficult, particularly as v1 has no issue with returning fire as it's not about share gabriel's hesitation concerning heavenly citizens. they don't know any specifics of his relationship to v1, but to protect their own angelic egos, they do view it as the instigator of his fall and an evil he's bound to now that he's become a demon. the lesser angels curse what humanity has done, they carry a burning guilt for their own creation to have so sullied the brightest of angels, while the greater angels bemoan god's very creation of humanity that their inventions corrupted gabriel to his core. luckily for them, the angelic presence in hell has decreased a fair amount considering heaven is going through its second upheaval, so gabriel's virtues are generally able to warn him about where any are posted so that he might avoid them.

where things begin to unravel is in gabriel's more personal relationships - he owes little to the angels that simply worked under him, but those like the ferryman are much more difficult to ignore and their presence looms larger in his mind now that he's been given so much time. he can't let them linger, yet how can he show himself as he is? like i mentioned, i'm drafting a comic depicting their initial encounter but...the ferryman takes gabriel's fall poorly. i will say it's a thought i've had for awhile simply based on a little coding quirk of the game - gabriel, judge of hell is a top priority for idols, while gabriel, apostate of hate is lowest priority. this made me think of how it could be reflective of the ferryman's feelings, how they are not forgiving of gabriel's choices and are agonized, bitter, and angry seeing him return to them after all this time in the flesh of a demon. they had labored so tirelessly always thinking of him, the memory of his radiance carrying them through even the desolation of hell...and now he comes back just as ruined as they are, a sinner like the billions of others that had teemed in hell. it's a deep betrayal, he was the one angel that had recognized and loved them in spite of everything, who had whispered the hope of salvation and who they loved in return. honestly, it's difficult to articulate what the ferryman goes through here - a devout soul, one that had worshiped gabriel as the light in their darkness, had dedicated any spare time in their unending labor to venerate him in their art, could do nothing but feel themselves collapse inward at the sight of him crowned with horns.

SO their relationship is exceedingly tense at first, with gabriel feeling at once deeply guilty...and a little mad himself. foremost, he does hate what he's putting the ferryman through, he feels all the resentment and disappointment, with a large part of him thinking he deserves that hatred. because this was always their hope, the rosy thoughts of one day being accepted into heaven even if they both knew it was fantasy. but he so wants them to understand why he did what he did and they're not receptive to it...they're not receptive to him, which is hard to swallow when before they would have bent to his slightest whim. it's selfish and he knows it, but experiencing that loss in their devotion to him stings more than he wants to admit. this issue is compounded GREATLY by the ferryman coming to understand just why he's traveling with v1, not only that it won his heart and corrupted him with it, but that gabriel would love the very thing that had helped wipe out the whole of humanity. it's a waking nightmare for the ferryman honestly, refusing gabriel's desperate explanations and fully condemning him when he tries to grab hold of them as they leave only to burn his hands on their holy cloth. he is so much further from god than even they are.

this got...a LOT longer than i meant, but i do think of them working through this mostly because they NEED to, including the ferryman growing to understand v1. they largely need to confront their worship of their idea of gabriel and reckon that with him as a full person, just like themself, while gabriel needs to accept that he is no longer an object of worship. i do also 100% have ideas about minos finding gabriel, since he IS an optional boss and i think of his prison weakening considerably with gabriel's fall + the death of the council. it similarly goes BAD, but that's much more self-explanatory (i've had a comic idea for...almost a month now, and it goes as well as you think. plus gabe's bull/minotaur theming is a. point. BUT i'll get to it at some point!!!) basically, outside of those couple virtues, gabriel is dealing with the mistakes he made and the lives he left broken as an angel to greater or lesser effect. plus i also just need to shake all these characters around like a dog for enrichment lol

[brilla-brilla-estrellita]

Crafting Wings

I finally remembered today that tumblr is a blog, and that in addition to whatever fandom nonsense I reblog, I can also post bloggy things on it. Obvious, right?

I am making a set of dragon wings for an event coming up in mid-June. They are of course inspired by Simon Snow and will be red dragon wings (though the pattern I bought from them is technically for a wyvern). I'm hoping that posting progress updates here will help me stick to it and actually get it done in time. I'm breaking it down into teeny tiny easy peasy steps and only looking at the very next step to try to keep the overwhelm and executive dysfunction at bay. This is likely to lead me down a path of "If I'd thought about it earlier, I could have..." But you know what? I always end up there anyway.

So first, I spent a long long long long long (long long long...) time trying to decide how to make these wings. I really wanted articulated wings, bonus if I could move them without obviously pushing or pulling or something. But looking at how people had made that happen was overwhelming. They require so much time and skill and I am prone to procrastination and crying and quitting when I mess up. I finally settled on this DIY Mechanical Wing kit by Chimera Wings. That would give me the frame for the wings, but they also have a sewing pattern (with printed AND video instructions) to make the covers for them!

This is what the contents of the kit looked like when I got it:

And this is the completed build! I almost didn't post this because I don't like the way I look, but you know what? Fuck that. I built something cool (using very simple, easy-to-follow instructions, sure) and I don't want to have to find a better fancier more flattering way to film that, so. I'm getting over it.

You can tell that I kinda struggle with the wing on my right side. I clearly need to stretch my arms out before wearing these. Truly. I tried it after I stretched and it's no big deal. Or maybe I'll add some sort of pulley after all. (HAH. Like I'll have time for that.)

Otherwise, the kit and wings are fantastic. It was so easy to put together and they feel very cool to wear. I should probably go write them a review...

I didn't actually takes pics of the next step, but I printed out the pattern on regular 8.5x11 paper and taped it together. It... was not very well done, but I'm hoping I got it close enough to not have messed up the pattern dimensions. After taping and then cutting out the completed pattern, I could move on to working with actual fabric!

I'm making a mock-up out of old sheets first because I have never once done any sewing project successfully the first time. I decided to mock-up only one wing instead of both, so this will surely be my downfall when I move onto the real deal.

The next two pictures are the front and back pieces for a single wing. I decided to cut them separately instead of at the same time by folding the fabric in half because every time I do more than one layer at a time, at least one of the layers comes out real fucked up. I blame being a lefty in a right-handed world. Scissors are of the devil.

The next step was to make buttonholes that are actually strap holes. I have a little baby basic machine, and it has some limitations. I discovered one of these limitations during my buttonhole test runs. As you can see, the machine-provided "buttonhole" stitches are just... lacking. I messed with a screw that controls the length of these stitches, but for some reason it can only be used to balance out the stitch lengths, not make them overall longer or shorter. I have no control for generally change stitch length. I only have the options presented to me on my stitch chooser knob. Alas, I have less than optimal buttonholes.

Pictured above: (Left) One very sad buttonhole test. (Right) A second buttonhole test in which one side is almost respectable and the other should be ashamed to call itself a buttonhole stitch.

Finally, I gave up and balanced the stitch lengths and just went with it. When I do the real deal, I will likely go use my friend's much fancier machine. For the mock-up, this is sufficient. The next three pictures show, with increasing zoom and blurriness, the completed buttonholes.

I am intentionally using very bright, contrasting thread so that when I inevitably fuck up, I can hopefully see the point of fuck up more clearly so as to rectify it on my next attempt.

And that brings us up to speed! Next Step: Pin the pieces together. That's it. That's the whole step. How many days will it take to overcome executive dysfunction and do it? Only time will tell.

As long as I can remember to update regularly, future posts should be quite short.

[hyrtwynwrites]

Yensday #6 - 13 March 2024

Hi everyone, and welcome back to Yensday! Today should be a bit on the shorter end, between me sleeping in and having the opposite problem the day before!

I also wanted to quickly update that work hasn't stopped on the audiobook or on book 3; the new job has been keeping me very busy, so I haven't had the energy to poke at them very much. Rest assured, I will get another audiobook chapter up soon, and work on book 3 is continuing apace. I suspect that it will be ready to start posting by mid-April, but time will tell.

Anyways! Onwards!

<><><> Q&A <><><>

@purplenidoqueen asked:

fmk ixal amalj'aa sahagin. happy yensday

I'm going to answer this one on my behalf rather than Yen's for the sake of sanity. Personally? Marry ixal, fuck amalj'aa, kill sahagin.

I don't really have anything against sahagin, I wouldn't actually wanna kill them, but I admit I'm not a huge fan of seafood and fish in general so they'd end up being on the lower end by tragic association. As far as amalj'aa versus ixal, I think the Ecahtl Nine kind of fit how I am as a person well enough to where they'd be where my heart goes, versus the Brotherhood of Ash, who I think are fun to travel alongside in bursts rather than a long-term commitment.

And yes, I do know this was your joke submission, but you must pay the piper all the same lol.

<><><> Tidbits & Errata <><><>

Related to the topic, I have been trying to find ways to integrate the tribes into the story going forward. I don't think there's really enough time in the world for me to tell their questlines inside of Light's Falle, but I am also attached enough to them to where I want to find some way to integrate them into the plot. Because of that, and to provide a bit of a spoiler for where things are headed...

The Brotherhood of Ash will make an appearance when Yenifer travels to Little Ala Mhigo (~book 7)

Novv's Nursery will make an appearance with the Leviathan questline (I don't have a number for that yet but it will be double digits!)

The Ecahtl Nine will make an appearance with the hunt for Garuda (~book 12)

We're a long way out on all cases, but getting closer to them by the day!

Thank you again for stopping by, it really does mean a lot. I hope to have more to show to you all in the very near future, but until then, may you ever walk in the light of the Crystal!

-H

[jostepherjoestar]

SDC gives you headpats (HC’s)

sfw // no pronouns/neutral pronouns

Everyone deserves headpats ok! If you haven’t gotten one yet NO WORRIES here you go!! (Jotaro and Kakyoin are platonic since they’re underage in part 3)

Avdol

Oh Avdol knows how good headpats feel but also respects others’ personal space.

He didn’t plan on doing it to you, it just felt like the right thing to do at the moment. You are shorter than all your crew mates which they always take advantage of. Your head is basically their arm rest. 

After a particularly hard day of fighting enemy stands he notices you practically dragging your feet across the sand road on the way to camp. After everyone has set up and the campfire is roaring, everyone has taken a seat around it to relax and eat. You sit and stare at the fire, poking it with a stick you found. Avdol crouches before you. He’s still taller than you while seated.

A big warm hand lands on your head and the other hands you a cup of soup he just heated on the fire. “You did good today, take a rest ok? Joseph and I will stand guard tonight.” he smiles softly at you. His hand exudes heat even without Magicians Red. 

You gladly accept the cup while brandishing a tired smile. The soup and the pat making you feel warm all over. You wish more from him but silence those thoughts, you should keep thinking about defeating DIO. 

Oldseph

Joseph has always been physical with you. Touching your lower back as you pass by, leaning on your shoulder with his elbow and sometimes getting a little too close while talking to you. You push those symptoms to him being old and not knowing personal space is a thing.

He headpats you frequently but more to tease you when you don’t know something or forget. More of a “oh you poor child”. You always roll your eyes at his for doing it but end up laughing anyways. 

You call him old man, he calls you kid. The teasing nature between the two of you only growing as the journey continues. 

So when you burn your tongue on the hot soup Avdol gave you earlier he comes by to patronisingly pat you on the head. “Oh did you burn your wittle tongue?” he jabs while patting you on the head. You stomp on his toes in reply making him yelp in pain. You can hear the rest of the group snicker in the background while you smugly grin and blow on your soup. 

Polnareff 

Polnareff is a bit of a mix when it comes to being physical with you. He respects your personal space but every so often when the chance arrives to aid you AND be able to touch you, he jumps at the opportunity. 

A hand around your waist to whisk you away to safety? Grabbing your wrist to stop you from bumping into someone? Caging your body with his to protect you from rubble in a fight? Don’t mind if he does. 

So when he sees you tiredly wobbling to your sleeping bag he comes in to assist you, letting you hook your arm through his while resting your head on his shoulder. “Thanks Pol.” you yawn. 

He basically tucks you in your sleeping bag. Whispering “Bonne nuit, doux rêves.” as he pats you on the head. He would have preferred to hug you instead but he sees how tired you are and settles. 

“Merci Pol Pol.” you reply in your best french accent, you can hear him laugh as he walks back to the camp fire.

Jotaro 

He does not really care that much for headpats, let alone unnecessarily touching others. Why would you even get in someone’s space for no reason? He’d indicate it a way to start a fight with him. 

You’d left him alone for most of the trip, not getting in his way, listening to what he has to say and not being too loud around him. Somehow you still wanted to please this frickin kid. 

You were rudely awakened by Jotaro nudging your leg with his foot. “Get up, there might be a stand user near us.” he said, his eyebrows were knitted in a frown. 

You get up quickly to scan the area for enemies, the rest of your crew already awake and focused. Jotaro gestures his fingers at you to come over and you do. “A little to the left. Ok...good.” you do as he says standing in front of him facing the desert around you. 

Out of nowhere you feel heavy elbows rest on your shoulders and a figure behind you. Full of questions you utter a “What the fuck?”. “My arms were tired from holding up the binoculars.” he exclaims in a calm tone while continuing to scan the area. So you stand there, a glorified arm rest. No headpats from him sadly. 

Kakyoin

After figuring out it wasn’t a stand user around your camp but just a very persistent prey bird looking for its next meal you had all packed up and started moving again. 

Joseph had rented a new car in the nearest town available and you were all off again crammed into it. You’re sat squished against the window with Kakyoin next to you in the middle. Still tired from the day before you decide to take a nap since it was going to be a long drive. 

But alas Kakyoin had grown bored of just staring out the window so he decided to bother you after letting you sleep for an hour. The two of you weren’t above pranks, small ones to lighten the mood. Ever since you joined he had found his prank partner in you. The both of you had once put peppers in Polnareff’s food without him noticing, crying from laughter as Polnareff kept trying to order more milk but the waiter couldn’t understand what he was saying. His face was bright red and his tongue swollen. 

So Kakyoin decides you’ve had enough rest and starts patting the top of your head every couple seconds until you’re awake. He feigns ignorance and keeps a straight face while looking out in front of him, even starting a conversation with Polnareff who’s driving. That little shit. 

[missorgana]

words hung above, but never would form

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: mcu, what if...?

rating: mature

word count: 3500

warning: swearing, alcohol, major character death, blood, guns

summary: What might've happened after the zombie apocalypse broke out, before the last team of heroes was formed, and how Bucky Barnes lost Sam Wilson. (pre-canon fic to what if... zombies!?)

(a few days ago i posted this very painful angst fic i thought of after the zombies episode of what if...? so here i am dropping it on tumblr as well!! i apologise, please know that it broke my heart to write this. uhm. that’s all!)

read on ao3

It’s been three months since they lost Steve.

Well, since the world lost most of the Avengers, really. And since the world lost most of its, uh, regular people anyway.

It’s a dark world full of shit and blood and brains out there now, yet Bucky’s taking his cold shower in the morning and cannot bring himself to care much. Sounds harsh, he knows.

He knew nothing of this new world and new time except his best friend, so of fucking course, Steve being… not Steve made him feel like there was no fucking point to anything. If the Avengers couldn’t beat this zombie virus? Yeah, there’s no hope for humanity anymore.

Except… except the man who greets him in the morning, handing him a plate of pancakes without even asking if he wanted some and pinning yet another red pin on their vastly growing map of ghost towns. Those are fully infected spots, by the way. Nothing left but the undead. The map is turning overwhelmingly red overwhelmingly fast.

The man hovering at said map also hands him his coffee, puts on one of the records from their LP stash, and smiles his sunny, stupid grin before ruffling Bucky’s hair and telling him he missed a spot.

Yeah, the world’s become even more of a dog eat dog world than before.

But Bucky Barnes’ got Sam Wilson. And nothing else matters.

*

It’s ironic really, that when he’s gotten out of cryo, that he’s finally rid of the Hydra programming and torture and pain he’s endured for years, and at the same time, someone somewhere got bitten and humanity’s become a walking all you can eat buffet. Perfect timing.

Of course, Steve’s never fled from a fight in his life, so honestly? Bucky can’t exactly say he’s surprised. He is- sorry,  was  an Avenger after all. The little shit.

What does surprise him, however, is finding himself growing closer to Sam, Steve’s friend who for some reason, somehow, was just as intent on finding him as Steve was. And… helping him. Saving him.

Bucky never understood why. He still doesn’t. He hates himself for everything they made him do, he’ll probably continue hating himself for as long as he lives, no matter how much he tries to suppress it, but Sam doesn’t. 

Sam fought for him, fought with him, visited him in Wakanda and took him back to a somewhat normal life before… you know. Now they’ve found a safehouse after losing everyone they had, except each other, and they’ve zombie-proofed to the best of their ability.

And life with Sam, well, Bucky could get used to it. In fact, he gets used to it very quickly.

Sam smiles so easily at him and doesn’t look at him like he’s a broken man who needs to be fixed. Sam doesn’t look at him with resentment, or pity, he just… looks at him. 

It’s hard to explain.

Thing is, nothing makes sense. The violence that keeps on going and going doesn’t make sense, Bucky losing his best friend in the world doesn’t make sense, the streets being abandoned and houses vacant and survival being a constant factor in life now doesn’t make sense.

But the man he’s hiding out with makes sense. He makes so much sense. The only thing that makes sense anymore.

His existence is constant, he’s there for him when he lets him and when he doesn’t, he gives him space. The shorter man is as if the sun was living and breathing, and himself, well, he’s the moon. He’s just trying to stay in Sam's orbit.

Chasing after him. Circulating. Bashing in everything he’s willing to give him.

The scruffy beard he’s let grow, and him humming to himself while he’s working on Redwing, and the wheezing, carefree laugh he can’t stop when Bucky suggests they watch a zombie movie one night. He tells Sam not to overwork himself and he promises not to, and the other man tells him to let him know what’s going on in his head, and hell, Bucky tells him. He tells him everything.

In fact, it’s the same night they  do  watch a zombie movie, frequently pointing out the inaccuracies and turning it into a drinking game with the terrible, terrible booze they swiped from the supermarket, that he looks at the short haired man dozing off on his shoulder and realises that this is the most peace he’s ever had.

It’s basically an apocalypse outside, but Bucky can’t get himself to look away from Sam’s eyelashes fluttering lightly as he slips off to sleep.

Their legs are tangled into each other on the coffee table, the microwave popcorn long abandoned, one of his friend’s hands resting on his thigh.

His beard scratches his shoulder, but he doesn’t mind. Sam has asked him if he should shave it several times, but God no, never. That beard’s been doing a lot of things to him - all good, of course.

He turns down the volume a bit. Sam looks peaceful. He hasn’t been sleeping much, he knows neither of them have, and where’s the time for it, anyway? He’s glad he is now.

Bucky can’t get himself to move, fearing waking the short haired man from his slumber, and for a minute, the outside world is far, far away from their reality.

Sam looks incredibly soft in that ripped sweater and sweatpants and the snore he lets out is no less than adorable.

It’s like- he looks at this man, and suddenly it’s like everything just falls back into place.

He looks soft in the morning over breakfast and hazy eyes, soft in the evening when he says goodnight, soft when he’s clutching the photos of his nephews (AJ and Cass were their names, he’s learned), soft when he’s retelling a memory with his parents on the family boat, soft when they both muse about Steve and his dumb shenanigans.

He looks something entirely different when he’s shirtless out of the shower and tiny droplets still fall down his chest and abs and Bucky struggles to breathe, every damn time. He only realises now why that is.

Sam is like a sunset, because Bucky wants nothing more than to wake up to this man and nothing else every day, till the end of time. What more could he wish for?

He’s beautiful. Bucky doesn’t think he’s called anyone, or anything beautiful before.

Looking back, he can’t see anymore how they could argue and bicker and annoy each other, and doesn't understand why. He’s wasted so much fucking time doing that. Not anymore. He could never go back to that, it would most likely kill him. Steve would be thrilled if he could see them now, wouldn't he?

And while this realization dawns upon him, washing over him like the biggest wave you could possibly imagine, he wonders if Sam feels the same when he looks at him.

Does he feel safe falling asleep on his shoulder like this? Does he find everlasting comfort in his smile like he does in his, does he wake up hoping and praying to see his smile, just once? Does he do everything he can think of to make him look at him, like he tries every single day?

He can only dream.

Huh. So this is what it’s like to be in love. Bucky doesn’t hate it.

*

It’s only a month after his life-changing realization of the sort that couldn't make him concentrate on everything else, that Bucky decides today is the day. He’s going to confess his feelings for his friend.

And this is something in the middle of chaos, something he’s never experienced before. He’d never thought he’d practice his words in the mirror like a nervous teenager, but alas.

Sam Wilson, I’m in love with you.  No. No, it’s too short. Think, James. What does he make you feel?

Sam, you’re the last thing I think about when I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I wake up. Sam, I want to see you smile every day. Sam, I want to make you happy… as happy, as… happy as you make me.

Too long? Shit. 

Sam, you’re the only good in this piece of shit world. I love you. Sam hates when he’s that pessimistic, though, and always tells him to cheer up, even in the middle of a zombie invasion. Another reason why he loves him.

Sam, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing I wouldn't do to see you happy. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.

His stream of thought is interrupted by faint clanging in the kitchen of their safehouse. Bucky sighs. He’s not sure this is going to be perfect, he wants it to be.

He has to go, he has to try. Now or never.

Except… the smile he’s come to anticipate every single morning isn’t there to meet him. Instead, he sees Sam suited up, wing pack on his back, gloves on, looking through one of their many folders they’ve filled up with theories of the infection and safe spots and danger zones and everything else.

Bucky frowns, looks at him in silence for a moment. Maybe he’ll try a joke, “Going somewhere?”

His friend hums without looking, “I’m going to catch Steve.”

Sorry,  what? What the fuck? 

Sam did not just say what he thinks he said. He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

This is why he blinks in disbelief, for the first time rendered speechless by the other man. Sam looks up at him, face glazed over by determination and confusion by his own reaction, most like. Then, worry overtakes his usually warm, deep brown eyes, ones that he could drown himself in and never come out of.

“You okay, Bucky?” he asks, and Bucky clenches his jaw.

“You’re going to… catch him,” he says, a statement rather than a question. It’s Sam’s turn to frown, but he nods.

“Yes. Catch him and bring him back.”

“You’re joking,” he laughs in sheer denial, but the seriousness in his friend’s face is scaring him, “Sam… tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Oh, this is just not happening. This world lets him fall in love with the most perfect person he knows and then lets that very same person be so fucking stupid?

Bucky can’t let him go. Bucky can’t lose him.

“What, then?” he asks, one hand on his hip, “Invite him over and let him eat our brains, just like that?”

“ Bucky. We’re going to catch him, and then we’ll cure him.”

He laughs, loudly. Okay, this is just hilarious. Sam Wilson is the most perfect person in this world exactly because of this- because he believes this world is still able to be saved. Because he believes it’s  worth saving . Fucking hell. 

“You found a cure you’re not telling me about?”

Sam sighs, scratching his chin, “Come on, Buck. I talked to Hope-”

“Who?”

“Hope Van Dyne. The Wasp,” the shorter man explains, “She lost her parents, and Scott Lang, remember?”

Bucky shrugs, but nods.

“Well, she’s been recruiting those of us who survived. Who’s left. And she thinks there might be a way to reverse the virus, her father brought it from the, uh… Quantum Realm.” Sam’s about to hand him one of the folders, but he crosses his arms, and shakes his head, then.

God, Bucky’s well aware how stubborn he is. Sam has told him plenty of times.

But he’ll be damned if he lets the man go just like that. He’s not letting him get hurt.

“That’s not happening,” he says shortly. His friend’s frown deepens.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going after that thing.”

The man turns to him completely, wide-eyed and shock written all over his features. “ That thing? ” he huffs, “That thing is our friend.”

“Not anymore, Sam. I’m not letting you get yourself killed by the undead.”

“He’s not dead,” Sam says. His voice raised. He looks- he doesn't look soft anymore. There’s no trace of that smile that gives Bucky shivers down his spine. He looks… upset. He’s upset. Fucking shit.

Why can’t he-  fuck , can he not try to be a fucking hero right now? That’s why Steve’s gone. Why can’t he see that?

“You’re being irrational,” Bucky tells him, feeling the anger rise within him,  this is not how it was supposed to go, stay with me-

“Oh, I’m being irrational?” Sam laughs, sarcasm evident in his voice, “There might be a cure. We might get Steve back, Buck. And I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know, but-”

“But, what?” he sighs, again. The irritation is flowing between them, Bucky’s freaking out, and above all, Sam looks… he looks disappointed.

This is the worst he’s felt in his whole fucking life. He can’t disappoint the only person that matters to him. Yet he did.

“What if Hope’s wrong, Sam? It’s pointless, most of the population’s infected anyway, it would take forever to get everyone-”

“You’ve got that little faith in me?”

No. No no no.  Sam, no. I love you. I love you so much it pains me to see you like this, I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t-

“We’ve lost too many, Sam!” he finds himself yelling, none of the words scrambled in his brain making it out. He’s the most stupid of them, obviously, not that he wasn’t aware. “I know you believe these people can be saved, and your hope is incredible, but can you please… not go?”

“I’m an Avenger, Bucky. It’s what I do. It’s what Steve did.”

“It’s what got Steve turned.”

This seems to be something Sam has to ponder over, because a rather uncomfortable silence settles between them. His friend’s eyes soften somewhat, but his teeth are still gritted, as are his own. Would be inappropriate to confess his undying love to the other man now, wouldn’t it?

“I do believe they can be saved,” his friend eventually speaks up, “I believe that because I  need  to. I lost my parents, Sarah, Steve, Natasha. I have to try.”

See, that makes sense. Another reason why Bucky fucking loves him and wants to kiss his stupid fucking face and beg him not to go. But he doesn’t.

“It’s too risky, Sam, it’s not safe.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.”

Bucky holds in a whine, embarrassing,  desperate , “I know you can! You’re a fucking hero. You’re one of the best, Sam, you are. I wish I was that brave, I just-”

“Then why won’t you let me do this?” his friend asks in frustration, “Why won’t you let me try?”

I can’t lose you. “Because I lo-”

The words are interrupted by a loud bang. Sam closes his mouth immediately, tight-lipped. Bucky’s mouth hangs open, voice disappearing. Another bang. Then a moan reaches them from somewhere far away.

Their eyes widen in synchron as they look at each other, eye contact unwavering. They both know what that sound means.

Someone’s coming in. Someone not human.

*

Whatever’s found them, it’s on the roof, and it’s trying its hardest to get in, so Bucky’s got to shut his mind off and get ready.

Not only is he stupid enough to start a fight with Sam, they also get discovered by one of the zombies. Fan-fucking-tastic. They run to opposite ends of the safehouse, trying to locate exactly where the intruder’s at.

Bucky follows the sound into the hallway, past the bathroom, while Sam stays behind in the kitchen, machine gun pointed at the ceiling. He could not have picked a worse time to speak his feelings than today, could he? Well done, James.

And as if this day isn’t already bad enough, he can’t hear the groaning from the roof anymore.

“Sam!” he yells, because it doesn’t matter if the brain-eater hears them, “I lost it.”

“I hear them,” his friend yells back, prompting Bucky to make his way back, adrenaline pumping, feeling the sweat running down his back, “They’re on- Bucky! Buck-”

A crash. The biggest fucking crash he’s ever heard. Silence.

No.

“Sam?!” 

“I’m here,” he hears the other man’s coughing, “It’s Steve. It’s Steve! Steve, hey, okay, now stay right there-”

Bucky’s officially panicking. This is not happening.  It’s not .

He’s running so fast he stumbles over his own feet. At the same time, he feels as if he’s frozen on the spot. He’s not sure what’s real anymore.

“Sam, I’m coming-”

Sam  screams . And Bucky’s heart is torn out of his chest and smashed onto the floor.

It’s the most earth shattering scream Bucky’s ever heard. It reaches him and goes inside every bone in his body and clouds his vision and makes him want to scream in anger.  Sam. Sam. Sam. I need him. I need you.

Yet, when he reaches the living room, he sees nothing at first but rubble and smoke. The roof’s broken down. And in the middle of it, a figure is huddled over another lying on the floor, eerily still.

No. This isn’t real.

He might even convince himself he’s dreaming, he really might, because his vision is still clouded, and his teeth are still gritted so hard he bites the inside of his cheek, until the figure turns around and he’s met with a familiar face.

Steve Rogers.

But it isn’t his Steve, it could never be, because this Steve? This one’s a walking corpse. Sickly pale skin and blood between his teeth and red eyes looking back at Bucky with no memory or remorse. And on the floor-

On the floor… on the floor- He can’t be. He’s- Sam is-  Sam .

“Sam,” is all Bucky can say, feeling like a broken record. His voice breaks, and the undead fucker in front of him doesn’t move an inch.

Sam is bitten.  My Sam. I love you. I love you so fucking much and that’s why I didn’t want you to go, you perfect idiot, I love you-

He’s clutching the machine gun too hard, his knuckles are turning white, but he can’t do anything.

“That’s enough, Steve,” he finds himself addressing him. It doesn’t faze the thing in front of him, but that’s not surprising. It’s not his friend anymore, “Enough.”

Then a moan sounds, but it doesn’t come from Steve’s mouth. The figure on the floor rises, slowly. Sam Wilson. But he isn't his Sam anymore.

Sam looks at him. There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re empty. No warmth, no safety, not anymore.

He’s gone, but he can’t make himself believe it.

The thing that used to be his friend… the man he’s in love with, the man he wanted to spend every day with, every day for the rest of his life, if only he’d let him, that monster that’s destroyed the most beautiful soul on this shitty earth, hollowed him out and taken his body,  that monster groans again.

Then, both figures move. The fuckers are moving in one direction, and that’s towards him.

They’re not fast, Bucky backs away, but his eyes are soon clouded by hot streams of tears running down his face. He can’t hold them back. He can’t control himself. He can’t control anything, not anymore.

So he raises his gun, “Sam,” he whispers, well aware no one’s going to respond, “Sam, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. This is all my-”

He squeezes his eyes shut, ready to fire all the ammo he’s got into his two undead friends, but he opens them again, looks back at them. They’re hungry. They’re still moving.

Bucky can’t breathe.

He wipes at his tears angrily, looking back and forth between those two dead fuckers and hovers his finger over the trigger, but he can’t… he can’t. He only realises in this second. He can’t shoot.

They’re not themselves anymore  , he reminds himself.  They’re gone.

But Sam’s warm voice full of peace and sunshine and lazy laughter and fleeting, shy touching of hands pops up in his head.  That thing is our friend. He’s not dead. Those things are your best friend and the love of your life, James.

The zombies keep coming closer and Bucky bites his tongue.

“Shit.”

He lowers his gun, and because he doesn’t know what else to do, he knocks over the coffee table, then the TV, then the potted plant that Sam loves-  loved so much, and runs as fast as he can, not looking back. He hears more crashes, the distraction hopefully successful, but doesn’t slow down.

Bucky escapes out the back door, jumps in the car and pushes the speeder.

Sam Wilson, I’m so in love with you, I can’t think about anything else. You’re the only one for me. I love you. And now you’re gone because of me. I didn’t get to tell you.

He doesn’t know what to do, or where he’s going, except- he needs to find Hope Van Dyne. He has to.

[trickkombowerskru]

Rodrick Dates Rowley’s Older Sister

Request: @nahbrothatsgay​: Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a headcannon or something for Rodrick dating Rowleys older, edgy sister? Fluff and maybe a couple a NSFW comments in there too? ;) I’ve read like ALL the Rodrick fics on this site and I am desperate  thank you️

A/N:Okay first things first thank you for being so damn patient with me my dude. I am so sorry this took this long... tbh I had this one and something else done for a while and have been sitting on it I just wanted to catch up on all in my ask, and school, followed by the amazing convention, and then after that procrastination got in the way of me doing  that and I’m sorry, but alas I am back. I’m almost done with my spring break, but all my classes have been moved online for the rest of the semester I’ll have a ton of time at home on my hands. Once again thanks for being so understanding, especially since this request happened in the midst of the last shipping event 💕

Warnings: Mentions of sex

To say you were the black sheep of your family....

Well that was an understatement

It's not like you were completely unlike them

You did enjoy family time and all

All the corny stuff was kind of endearing to you

But everything else

Nah

A total 180

From music

To how you dressed

It was all different

You also unlike your family had an actual sass bone in your body

But as long as you were nice to your little brother

And got good grades

Your parents really didn't mind your style

You could always hear them trying to convince themselves it was a phase

Which made you just chuckle and roll your eyes

Who know maybe it was

But at the moment it made you happy to dress this way

And that was all that mattered

Despise Rowley and Greg being best friends for years you and Rodrick kind of stayed off each other's radars

Like you knew of his existence

And he knew of yours

But it ended there really

Neither of you had even seen what the other had looked like

Since you didn't share any classes really

Or if you did you zoned out enough after your names were called in attendance to not  pay attention to the other

At least you didn't before

Normally whenever you had to pick up Rowley from the Heffley house

Rodrick was either in his room or his shitty band was practicing in the garage

But today he was front and center leaving the kitchen with a snack in hand

He nearly drops it when he sees you

The sudden noise making you look over in his direction

Your eyes lock and from there cue the mutual pining

"Earth to Y/N," your brother tries to get your attention.

"Are you malfunctioning or something?"

Greg looks between your gaze and quickly picks up on what's going on

"Awwww two freaks in love," Greg mocks

"Shut it fart face!" "Can it worm!"  you and Rodrick yell at the same time

You look at each other again and smile once more keeping the gaze shorter this time

And then you are on your way

From that point making sure you're always the one to pick him up

And Rodrick vice versa

Just to talk to each other

Finding each other in few your shared classes

After a burst of confidence you asking him out

Him being totally flustered but agreeing

Sneaking around from there

At least on your end anyways

Your parents didn't really like Greg

And you couldn't say you blamed them

He was a nice enough kid and all

But some of the things he did were just too far

To be honest you still hadn't forgiven the little shit for breaking your brother's arm

But because they pretty much hated Greg you knew if they found out about you and Rodrick that they would try to end the whole thing almost immediately

And that was the last thing you wanted

Swearing your brother to secrecy

Him feeling bad saying it's lying

And you telling him that it's not lying just not telling them who your dating

Which makes him feel a bit better

Susan thinking it's so sweet that you two are together

Also probably getting caught by your parents early on

Like only 3 months in

When they were supposed to be out and came home early to the sight of you snuggled up on the couch

Fighting hard to keep your relationship

Tbh 100% a "But Daddy I love him" type of deal

Your dad caving and allowing it

But saying you had to be in the living room or have your door open when he was over

You agreeing

But you easily found a way around that rule

By simply going to his place

Or having him come over when you parents were at work

Rodrick being all cute and flustered when your all dolled up for a dance

Going to all of his gigs even if Chris couldn't sing for shit

Going to a bunch of regular concerts together too

Which is always fun watching him be such an adorable fanboy

Him teaching you how to play drums if you want

Being all cutesy in front of Greg and Rowley to make them fake gag

Or if you wanted to pull out the big guns just start making out

Having a new permanent ride to school each day

And rocking out with your cute boyfriend beat taking the bus ANYDAY

Lots of making out in the van

Also being each other's firsts

If you somehow thought Rodrick wasn't a virgin before he met you

Oooof my friend you are EXTREMELY mistaken

Once you get comfortable with each other though lbr...

Van sex is a common occurrence

It's the whole set up too

Whenever he's taking you out somewhere like near the lake or something

He'll set a comforter and blanket back there with some pillows

To make it nice and cozy for you

That's usually some point soon after a gig happens

When all his equipment is temporarily in the house

Being able to knock down the his fake confidence facade in three seconds

As mentioned before that boy just gets all blushy and sweet around you

It's the cutest thing

Babe is like the go to name for both of you

Overall just such a sweet relationship between two punks 

[a-square-minus-one]

Honey 5

Sexual suggestiveness ahead. Please be aware that this story is Rated M and meant only for those 18 years and older.

“Your brother?” Nightwing asks, leaning back in his seat. Raven watches as his eyes glaze over. He’s running through plans in his head before she even gives him a full account of their opponent. Raven nods, although Nightwing isn’t fully paying attention at this point. She looks at all her teammates who are much more attentive.

“I will assume that you do not hold brotherly affection for this man?” Starfire asks. Raven nods again. 

“Trigon has fathered hundreds of sons after me, but the six following me are the most powerful. Each of their powers coincide with the seven deadly sins.”

“But there are only six of them?” Garfield asks, his folded hands are supporting his chin as he leans in close. 

“I’m the seventh,” Raven says. That stops the questions for a few moments.

“But you powers aren’t-” Cyborg pauses, rubbing his bald head. “Sinly?”

Raven quirks her eyebrows. “Shooting black energy from my fingertips not dark enough for you?”

“You know what I mean,” Cyborg grumbles. Raven nods.

“The pride within you is tangible to me; I can manipulate it,” Raven says, crossing her legs. The team looks at her with parted lips. It was like their questions hung like weights on their lower jaw. She sighs. “I can play with the levels of pride in you so that it obscures all other systems. Biological. Mental. Emotional.”

“Wait, so you can sense how proud we are?” Garfield asks. Raven nods. “You must have a joy ride with boy wonder over there.” 

Nightwing scoffs. Garfield lifts his hands up, not even trying to erase his crooked smile.  

“Why have you never used this power before?” Nightwing asks, finally escaping the wheel that’s turning in his head.

“Why haven’t I turned someone into something they’re not?” Raven asks, hoping that in asking the question, Nightwing already found his answer. Nightwing seems to understand her as he leans back in his seat. Raven still feels the need to answer as the rest of her team stares at her expectantly.

“The villains we face rarely have a deficiency in pride. Besides, pride is a tricky thing. Given too much you will become foolish and illogical, convinced you have the right answer to everything. But given just enough,” Raven lets her eyes linger over Nightwing. “You become a detail oriented, confident leader.” Nightwing bows his head gracefully.

“The thing is, there is no set amount of pride that divides the foolish people from the well adjusted. Most of us have momentary spikes in our pride. There is no telling whether these spikes are good or bad. It’s dependent on how people use it. I don’t have the foresight to tell you how someone will react if they’re made more proud.”

“‘Cept for Adonis,” Garfield says, then blushes when all eyes turn to him. “What? That guy is always one spike of pride away from falling on his own sword.” Raven ponders that and shrugs.

“I’m not in the occupation of guessing someone’s limits. Besides it’s different when he’s in animal form.”

“How?” Garfield asks, leaning into the conversation. Raven pauses.

“My ability to sense emotions works best on humans.”

“You are able to sense mine,” Starfire chimes in. Raven nods at her.

“Things like happiness and sadness essentially feel the same in all beings. Between full human beings, the difference in how they feel emotions is almost imperceptible. But your body is wired differently. You’re Tamaranean and I have not enough access to Tamaraneans to get any baseline data on what your emotions read like. For example, your powers are connected with your ability to feel happiness. You practice happiness constantly, therefore your happiness is more potent. Because your happiness is so loud, it can be difficult for me to register the extent of your sadness.”

“It must be difficult to sense what I’m feeling,” Garfield says in a thoughtful whisper. Raven looks at him. “Every animal I turn into has different motivations. Some of them can be very strong.”

“Your animal forms are never permanent. While you can rearrange your DNA, it’s never fully stable. Your body will always want to revert to your human form,” Raven says. When she thinks about it though, Raven knows there is another form always pulling at Garfield’s control. She purses her lips, pausing to figure out where she’s going with this.  “No matter which form you take, there is always something essentially you that I can sense clearly because I know...well I know you.”  Garfield looks at her. Raven clears her throat. 

“And I know Star,” Raven says, moving her gaze from Garfield to Starfire. “I can sense what both of you are feeling but sometimes it can be a little harder for me to give it a name.”

“So the brother on the footage? Which is he?”

“Jesse. Envy.” 

The team is silent for a while. 

“Alone they’d be dangerous. Together, coupled with someone who understands centuries of mystical arts…” Raven trails off. Nightwing nods two times, evenly, militaristically.  Every once and a while Raven has to marvel at how certain Nightwing can be about things completely out of his element.

“Why are your brothers attacking now?” Nightwing asks in a way that makes it clear to Raven that not knowing is not an option. She pauses.

“My brothers’ motivations are tied directly to my father’s.”

“Cool so we’re up against old ass magic dragon, sin and evil incarnate,” Garfield runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his roots a little. 

“We need to cut this plan off at the roots,” Nightwing says, ignoring Garfield’s comment. “We start with Trigon.” Raven’s is rarely overcome with emotion but she has to fight to trap the sardonic chuckle bubbling from her chest behind her closed lips.

“Trigon is trapped in another dimension,” Raven says with a finality that would make anyone else drop the subject.

“So was Malchior,” Nightwing says quickly. His four teammates snap their heads to him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking to the floor.

“You’re not wrong,” Raven says after a moment, then shrugs one shoulder. “But Malchior’s escape is much easier than Trigon’s. Very few beings are able to traverse multiple planes of existence and even fewer are able to go where I put Trigon. Setting him free would be a marvelous feat indeed.”

“Never underestimate your enemies,” Nightwing says, pressing a fist into his palm.

“I don’t. I don’t deny that my brothers are more than likely searching for a way to free my father but he is not yet a part of the equation. We start with my brothers.”

“And if they manage to free your father?” 

“Then at least we won’t have to deal with evil incarnate and sin and an old ass magical dragon,” Raven says. Garfield raises his hand for a high five. Raven looks at it before tapping away at the touchscreen in front of the team. Garfield grumbles.

“We need to get supplies to protect ourselves and the tower from sinful influe-”

“Hate to interrupt sister but you were all moving at such a snail’s pace.”

Raven pulls up a protective barrier around her friends before they can even register that someone else is in the room. The man in front of her doesn’t even blink as he plops down on the sofa. Nightwing moves forward purposefully but Raven pushes him back with her powers.

“Leave the barrier and he will play with you like a toy.”

“Now, now, pretty vessel you know we can only enhance people’s natural inclinations,” Jacob says, propping one leg on the back rest of their sofa while the other hangs limply off the edge of the seat. He is sprawled out like a Greek god. His head rolls back. “May I say, this is quite the incestuous little family you have. The lust was rampant when I walked in the room. Although I shouldn’t be surprised Malchior has spoken of your...appetite.”

“Why are you here?”

“Oh why don’t you just drop the barrier? It’s not like you can hold it for much longer anyways. Besides, playing with your friends is not why I am here.”

“You expect me to trust you?” Raven’s voice wavers under the strain of protecting her friends. Even now she can feel Jacob probing the weakest parts of her barrier. 

“No I suppose not,” Jacob says, sending the group a crooked smile. He runs his hand slowly up his leg, over his muscular thigh, and drops it dangerously close to the bulge in his unitard. Then he chuckles.

“Our brothers have sent me to ask you to join our endeavours in freeing our father.” “I’d rather die.”

“Ah I said much the same to them. You are much too proud,” Jacob chuckles. It sounds like a bell. 

“Original.”

“Ooh your sentences are getting much shorter. I bet I could push through this barrier of yours now,” Jacob says, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically and sitting up properly in one quick, smooth movement. He eyes Nightwing from head to feat. “I’ve pushed through my fair share of barriers in this lifetime.” 

Jacob winks. Raven clenches her teeth.

“Alas, I don’t feel much like straining myself today although I can assure you my brothers do not know the same restraint. They wanted me to force you to join our side. But I think your high and noble friends wouldn’t let you turn yourself over to us even if I did say...peel their skin off in front of you,” Jacob says. He reaches for a lollipop in the candy basket they keep in the common room and peels off the wrapper. He swirls his tongue slowly over the confection. “Well, I will not waste my energy.” 

Jacob eyes run over the Titans one by one, watching as their muscles twitch with the desire to hurt him. He feels like laughing.

“Protect your tower, conduit. Protect your friends. But as I tell all my lovers, be prepared for the full weight of us.”

Jacob moves to walk out their front door and Raven feels her barrier weaken significantly. Before he leaves Jacob looks over his shoulder with a lascivious smirk.

“And do try to lay with the green one at least once. Your thirst for each other is simply pathetic.”

Jacob leaves.

[decoydeku]

Smartass

pairing: badboy!izuku midoriya x reader

au: highschool!au

prompt: Tunnel Of Love (remix) – haroinfather, Savage Ga$p

wc: 1.7K

warnings: a bit of cliché stuff here n there, badboy!izuku with babie!izuku seeping through, swearing, e-boy hate o.O

synopsis: Izuku, cinnamon roll? Pfft, who said that!? With his jet-black shades, leather jacket and curly green undercut you’d say he’s the definition of a wattpad bad boy. Stupid how he always swivels up to your locker to annoy you though.

a/n: I heard a tiktok song and imagined Izuku singing it to me. This is the result. Haha this has no plot lmao 

 You’d just finished your excruciatingly long, double period English class, piling the mixed books ranging from novels and textbooks into your locker. Your arms were sore, silently cursing your teacher for wanting to go over so much material today. Turning to the timetable plastered on your locker door, you noted your next class before you saw a figure approaching you from the corner of your vision.

Your head snapped up in eagerness as your locked eyes with your best friend, Ocacho. “Y/N!” Her face broke into a smile as she made her way toward her locker that was the consecutive one to yours. “How was your last class?” The brunette asks, shifting the weight of her textbooks to one hand as she fumbles with her lock with the other. “English, right?”

You roll your eyes at the memory, letting out a disgusted sigh. “Same old, same old,” You replied, grabbing your own lock to shut your locker door. “How was…chemistry?” Chemistry? Or was it math…?

Ocacho suppressed a giggle, helping her books to lie neatly in her locker. “I had biology,” She emphasised, tucking her bangs behind her ears. “And yeah, it was pretty good.”

You offered her a weak, apologetic smile. You were in the third quarter of the school year, yet you still hadn’t memorised what classes she was taking…oops. “Uh, anyway,” You leaned against the cerulean paint of the lockers. “Cafeteria for lunch? I can’t be bothered to go out to the town today.”

Your best friend nods with a shrug, “Any-” She trails off mid answer, vision surpassing you and glued to a figure in the distance behind where you leaned. “Oh no…” The words barely come out as more than a breathy mumble but her expression gave you all the confirmation you needed. Of course.

The familiar squeak of those midnight Vans you detested echoed against the polished floor of the hallway. Murmurs and eccentric giggles shortly followed the shriek sound, and you licked over your teeth in annoyance. Here we go again.

“Y/N!” The husk yet annoyingly loveable voice confirmed all your suspicions at once. His musky cologne fanned your senses, as you heard the leaning thud of his arm by your locker. “What’s up, babygirl?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. Jaw clenched tightly; you turn to meet the familiar green eyes of Izuku Midoriya – resident ‘bad boy’. His hair was freshly cut, styled in a slighter shorter version of his classic undercut, curls of green dangling over his forehead.

“Midoriya, hey,” You were fed up with asking him to stop fucking calling you babygirl, and at this point you were just going to have to accept it. “Come to annoy me again, have you?” As much as you tried to deny it, you sort of liked the little banter he brought over to you every lunch break. Your lips curled into a slight smile; evidently.

Your best friend was well acquainted with the leather-jacket wearing boy’s visits, and knew there wasn’t a point trying to get a word in. “I’ll meet you at our table,” She spoke, seemingly supressing some sort of grin. “Don’t forget again, okay?”

Just as she was slipping away, you reached vainly for her. “Hey, wait Ocacho! I’m coming now, I swear if I can just-” But, alas, by the time that half-a-sentence left your lips, she was out of earshot. “Fuck,” You mumbled, mouth twisting in annoyance before letting out another defeated sigh. “Why do you have to do this every time?”

Izuku arched an eyebrow in (what could be mock) surprise. “Do what everytime?” He teased, grinning down at you with a devilish smirk. “All I did was say hello.”

You socked him in his hard-rock chest, grazing your skin lightly on the metal zipper of his ebony leather jacket. Ow ow ow. In attempt to hide your wince, you faced away from him, starting to walk away. “Shut up.”

He hissed at the hit, pushing off the lockers to walk in step with you to the cafeteria. “Hey, wait up!” Once again, you were met with those captivating green irises – wait when did they become captivating.

Rolling your eyes, you gave him an apathetic shrug. “You really need to get a life, Midoriya,” Though your words didn’t match your light and playful tone. God, why are you enjoying this? “Hey, how come you always come up to me and annoy me anyway.” You’d tutored him in English what, several months ago? How did he still find you interesting after so long ago?

Denki, who happened to catch just enough of the conversation to comment, piped up as you crossed paths. “Hah, easy!” He butted in his unnecessary comment, “Because Midoriya’s got the fattest, biggest c-”

“CHOCOLATE BAR TO GIVE YOU!” Izuku spontaneously blurted out, shoving a hand into his back pocket to pull out a slim, purple-wrapped chocolate bar. He pushed it into your hands, face burning with a dark tint before shooting the death glare at his blonde friend. “I…was saving it because I know how much you like chocolate!” The mumble tumbled out of his lips – out of his control – and his gaze flicked away from yours.

Your brows furrowed in wary, holding up the sweet in a strange manner. “This isn’t poisoned is it? Denki said it was the fattest and this feels like a tiny little-”

“Ahahah, you know Kaminari!” Weirdly enough, the usual low-tone of the bad boy’s had jumped a few pitches and had now had a cute nervous laugh in the mix. Is he okay??? “Always over exaggerating…!”

Cautiously, you peeled off the wrapping, just as you arrived at the cafeteria. “…Alright, but if I die or some shit guess who I’m blaming.” You declare, taking a delicious chomp out of the milky textured goodness. In bliss, you groaned at the melt-in-your mouth, letting it coat your tongue. “Okay, this is good!”

Meanwhile, Izuku was having trouble stringing the words together to ask you the burning question on the tip of his tongue – the whole reason he had that irritatingly expensive chocolate bar in his back pocket. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat as you both grabbed a tray and joined the line.

“So uh, the whole reason why I bought you that thing is…” Were his cheeks burning? Fuck what the hell’s wrong with him!? He reached to smooth a hand through his curly locks, trying to craft the right sentence to approach with. With a hint of anxiety, his eyes darted around the room. “Is because I’m failing math.”

You spun to face him, still munching away on your gifted chocolate bar. “What?” Your shoulders slumped – too cute – he thought. “Oh, I’m sor-” You stopped mid-sentence, letting the words replay in your mind. Right. “You want me to tutor you, don’t you?”

The freckle-faced boy gives you an uncharacteristically, sheepish smile. “If I don’t do well on the next test my score’s gonna go down…” So that’s a yes? His thumbs fiddled with the corners of the lunch-tray, pressing and fidgeting against the plastic. “I’d…really appreciate it, baby- I mean Y/N!”

Your smile picked up more prominently, not being able to help how cute the usual idiot seemed in this moment. You held your tray out for your helping. “…Okay I’ll do it.”

His whole face lit up – a beam looking oh so good on the usual smirk ridden face. He should wear it more often. “Wait, seriously?! You’d do that for me?” He held his own tray out for a helping. “I…I don’t- I mean, uh thank you Y-”

“On one condition,” Your wet your lips in thought, picking up a spoon from the utensils cup. “You have to get an A.”

He stopped, holding up the line for a few seconds. A few hangry yells brought him back to his senses. “An ‘A’!?” Izuku echoed, trying to keep up with your swift route to the table Uraraka was waiting for you at. “But why? What happens if I don’t?”

You turned slyly, giving him a look of intent. “You have to wear whatever I tell you to for a week.”

He scoffed in return. “What is this? A cliché? What’s the worst you can do, babygirl?”

“Oh?” Your lips curled into a smirk, guiding him along the cafeteria tables. “Alright, how about you let me give you a makeover?” You suggested. “I’ll make you not only the average ‘bad boy’ but I’ll add some eye-liner, chains…make you an e-boy!”

Izuku could’ve sworn he’d just vomited in his mouth. “An e-boy!?” He spluttered in return, fake-belching. “That’s…that’s…” He kinda called this upon himself. “Sure, fine, if I don’t get an A you turn me into an e-boy and if I do get an A I get to take you out.”

You grinned, “Sounds like a-” Your jaw fell, almost letting the lunch tray slip between your fingers. “Wait what!? I didn’t agree to that!”

The boy before you only shrugged, a playful glint shining bright in those eyes. “Only seems fair though, right?” You sat down next to Uraraka, giving her a soft greeting. He continued. “I get a reward for getting an A, you get a reward if I don’t impress you!”

Your face heated. “Who said getting a date with me was-” For what felt like the a-thousandth time, you stopped your sentence, training your eyes to meet his again. “Oh, what the heck, why not.”

His eyebrows jumped at you, grin spreading with ease across his freckle face. “Awesome!”

“Hey Midoriya!” Bakugo called from the table which sat Izuku’s usual friend group. “Why’re you hanging around with those nerds, hurry up before stupid dunce face steals your seat.”

Izuku glanced from his blonde friend to you, still smiling from ear-to-ear. His eyes sparkled with eccentricity, “Your place tonight?” Why does he remind me of a puppy? A cute, adorable, hot, puppy-

You gave him a slight nod, “I’ll check with my Mom but, it should be fine.”

He gave you a finger-salute, walking-backward to his table. “See you tonight babygirl!”

You wet your lips, shaking your head at the idiotic boy you’d landed a lesson with. ��See you tonight, ‘Zuku.”

[tinycaprisun]

a song not about love

title: a song not about love characters: chuck taylor x trent beretta word count: 1864 part: 1/1 warnings: mild cursing, no character names are said (but the perspective is alluded to be chuck’s and the “best friend” is trent) a/n: hi! so, holy crap i’m actually doing this... i know, it’s freaking me out too. i guess for context, yesterday i literally did not sleep at all and in a 5 am sudden burst of energy, this little fic came out of my brain. i’ve never posted my work online before, so this is kind of a big thing for me? also, this is so different from how i normally write because there is next to no dialogue, and it’s not, uh... funny? but it sure is something ahah

He won’t say it. That one fucking word that has been tormenting him for what feels like his entire life. He will not under any circumstance say it, or hell, even feel it. It sets you up for failure, for a gashing claw directly to your heart as it punctures and plays with what little you have left.

It’s like that song from Hercules, he thinks. The one where Meg is singing by the fountains about her feelings for Hercules and denying them every step of the way. It feels like that, except the brunette knows this isn’t some sappy Disney movie. This is real life, the one that made him hate himself every time he looked in a mirror. The one that gave him no other option to cope with everything that swirls in his mind at blinding rates than to drown what he does have away. 

Words were never his strong suit, with him always clinging to actions and movement, as more often than not, his mouth would betray him with what would come out of it. 

There’s this burning sensation, festering deep under his skin, well into the flesh, that tingles and jumps no matter what he does. It gets worse when he’s around. Not that he would know it, his friend was never good at picking up on just about anything. Itching, almost, with him unconsciously rubbing his arm over and over trying to forget that was where he had last touched him. A congratulatory pat, and that was it.  

The thought of already being dead crosses his mind. That perhaps, he is already dead, and that what he is living now would be his own personal hell. Set up explicitly to torture him for the wrongdoings of when he was alive. He wonders what that life was like, and if the people he knew now were there. That gave him no solace, as even if he were still living, there would still be his best friend there ruining it all.

Ruin in the best way possible, he amends. Because without him, the brunette can’t picture his life in any capacity. There would be none as far as he is concerned. There was so much of him that did not have, that lived in his friend.

Someone a long time ago said they were soulmates. Platonic, he assumed at that moment, was what the man meant. All this time later, he knows what he was getting at. He won’t say it, he never will, but he knows why the other man said it. That memory liked to crawl into his brain sometimes, replaying like a song you have stuck in your head until you can’t take it anymore and finally listen to it. It does not ease your pain, the song is still stuck. 

Soulmates were someone that housed all of the pieces of you that you did not have. The parts of you that you could fully - the word - because they were in someone else. Maybe that was why he liked keeping his friend around all the time. Because they were the same person.

Except they weren’t. His only slightly shorter friend was better than him at literally everything, not that it bothered him. It just made for more to... This was getting harder and harder to not say by the ever so slowly ticking seconds.

His mind takes over again. Blocking him even farther from reality than he already was, to think.

It’s the way he smiles, he ponders. But only when it’s at him. Tiny, unguarded, and sweet like pineapple fluff. Adoration is always in there too; along with warmth, and if he himself was feeling extra in his own head, intense longing. He silently prays for the last one. Never has been sure why, but he hopes with everything he’s got, that it’s in there somewhere.

What was longing? Catching his eyes across the room as they sparkle under even the dingiest of LED lights? They’re brown, like rich earth that used to be beneath their feet when they would do an outdoor show. Exposed from years of treading, letting others walk upon it without question, working down to its most basic form. It’s very core. He decides that him and the earth aren’t so different.

There is no reason to be like this. So deep into his own recesses that even the most forceful of tactics will not rouse him. Akin to a coma, however his eyes are certainly still working and there is definitely a concerned friend staring at him through their own pair of sunglasses and a neutral expression. 

He says something, slow and quiet like he usually does. It does not compute. His friend says it again. He cannot speak, but he can shrug while moving his gaze to stare past him.

It’s radiant over there, a shining oasis asking to have its glory basked in. Unsurprisingly, it’s him. Recognition helps bring back his question. Longing is time. All of it wasted, even if there is still so much to go. No mercy is given to him, not that he believed he deserved it.

His mind jitters and trails off again as it usually does. It’s his voice, he considers. Peering at him would make you guess it’s low and gritty, but he knows far better than that. His voice is of a baritone, but it’s far too uplifting and sometimes outright high to be anything else. Smooth also felt applicable, calmly finding its way to the right words and pitches as his hands say what his mouth can’t. He really enjoys that quality about him.

Reality is boring, he concludes. Sinking back into his cave of wonders and mostly misfortunes he calls his brain. He has his muse of which to think about... again, and the brunette couldn’t be any more content.

Content is the wrong word. Again, he is no good with those, but he does know that content is something he will never be. His is different though, for a reason he will not say. Fuck, are we really back to thinking about longing? For a third time? Is this what he wanted; to be caught in an infinite time loop, ala Groundhog’s Day, where he relives every thought he’s had for the millionth consecutive time? 

To be fair, that was how it always was when he saw him. Everything surfacing at the same time and he gets caught in the crosshairs, winning the wonderful luxury of wading through them again. 

His laugh is nice. His hair looks good today. The tank top he has on is way too tight fitting and leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Not hard to imagine anyways, he’s seen it a thousand times, having roamed it with his hands. But only briefly, and the idea sends him into a tizzy.

One that marks the end, the one that finally has snapped him and made him have a new goal. It’s like drowning again, except not in his usual Crown. This is one where he actually can’t breathe, unable to get above water safely and take those precious gulps he so desperately desires.

He is standing in front of him now, fueled by this very known force that has a known name that managed to carry his battered body to the other side of the room, without him even noticing. There is no one else in the room. Or maybe there is, but he can’t tell. For him, it’s only his friend and himself, which is all he could ever want.

His best friend asks him how he is. He does not answer. The other brunette seemed vaguely alarmed by this, commenting on this fact and letting the notion hang in the air. There is no true reply, not to what he is asking nor to anything else. They stand in silence, pressure building and concern rising, like a dam that’s about to burst open and destroy everything in its wake.

Being forward has always been his calling card. Breaking any tension or an awkward silence with little tact and a lot of bluntness. He’s rough around the edges, as are most things in his life. 

This one comes off as a cliff though, hurtling himself off of it and waiting until he hits the bottom. But there is none, all there is- is his best friend, still concerned for his well being, because of course he was. Did he really need another reason? 

Now there was even less reason to be cautious. If he didn’t say something now, the brunette was going to faint, the lights behind his green eyes going out like the flickering flames of a candle. Where he would drop, essentially dead to the world, straight to the floor and live there for eternity. Or until his friend kneeled down and checked on him.

That idea… The thought of waking up to his face. Seeing him tending to him because for his friend, life seemingly depended on it. But he didn’t know that. What he did know was that the thick and uncomfortable quiet that had filled the room; reminiscent of a smog like haze, was becoming unbearable. 

Caution. Wind. Blunt. Do it. He has to. He will explode if he doesn’t. His best friend is staring at him with what feels like baited breath and stitched brows. He looks completely mental, clearly needing to say something, anything really to amend the situation. At this point it doesn’t matter, he’s so gone for him that even if this irreparably damages their relationship, he would at bare minimum be rewarded with getting real sleep at night.

His mouth opens on its own accord, letting the words waterfall out nearly unceremoniously as he keeps eye contact with his friend.

“I’m in love with you.” 

He says it. 

The one fucking word that has been tormenting him for what feels like his entire life. He says it out loud, to his best friend’s face, with a few words before and after it. Sure, he could say that they don’t matter as much to this whole ordeal he got himself into, but truly, they make up the full saying that has been playing on loop on his head for months. 

His friend doesn’t react, not instantly, staring at him with a blinking gaze as either his brain self-destructs, or tries to figure out a way to let him down easy. Heavy doubt sinks into his bones, weighing him down and taking residence within him. 

It’s a new, hellish, spiraling sensation that the brunette was not ready for. He was used to his usual downward hole of thoughts, usually brought about by his unmitigated need to bash himself, but this… This feeling didn’t even compare, with it being so much more destructive and raw, it opened him up like he was a frog being dissected and leaving him vulnerable to the world.

He finally speaks, his words soft and slightly timid as he can’t seem to look away from him. Unlike what he was expecting, his friend's expression was open and understanding, albeit still taken aback by his forwardness.

“I… I love you too.”

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Hangout - 11/24

Click the read more if you want to see @hiss-and-vinegar and Alastor have some extremely affectionate, tender, cuddly, and emotionally supportive best friend fluff.

And also to see a snake and a deer violently wrestling in the hotel lobby.

And make fun of each other’s French accents.

Alastor

Room set up, booze supplied and food as well presented as Alastor could manage on such short notice—maybe he should start keeping some hors d'oeuvres on hand in the ice box for times like this, Sir Pentious rarely seems to *schedule* his visits—and now to wait in the lobby for Sir Pentious's arrival.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious? Scheduling his visits?? But then what of the element of SURPRISE that he enjoyed so much? It was one of the few ways he could add a bit of rebellion to his daily life. *Spontaneity!* Inconveniencing those around him just because he could! Anyway, it had worked out well last time, so the serpent hadn't any intention of changing his way of doing things.

The doors open up, and basking in the orange and reddish hues of Hell's bleak skies was none other than the snake demon himself. He held a cane in his right hand, leaning upon it as he slithered into the Hotel properly, through the entranceway, and towards the Concierge where he could see Alastor standing there. He stops, moving his head to the side to see if there was anything behind the Radio Demon--looked clear enough.

Alastor

Alastor looks up as soon as the door opens. "Ah! Right on time!" He heads toward Sir Pentious, closing the distance between them. "So, my friend, shall we?"

It certainly is clear enough. He's out in the open and completely defenseless.

Sir Pentious

You know how cats do that thing where their pupils enlarge? It shouldn't be possible for him, but it was known to happen. Sir Pentious lowered his body, just somewhat, and wriggled in place. His grin widened considerably, and it seemed as though his fangs had *lengthened* as well. The hat is getting into it, too, the both of them matching the crazed expression.

Alastor

That gives him pause. He stops several feet shorter than he'd planned. "You're looking a little more maniacal than usual," he says warily. "Scheming something new?"

He's about to get attacked, isn't he.

Sir Pentious

Do you know how fast a Cobra's strike is, Alastor?

In the time that you might have stopped to ponder that, Sir Pentious *lunges* for him, intent on TACKLING him and rolling across the floor. BOOSH--

Alastor

Fast enough that Alastor doesn't have time to avoid it—but he grapples Sir Pentious before they've hit the ground, getting one arm around the back of his neck and the other hooked under his armpit to keep him locked in place and unable to use that arm.

"You telegraph your attacks." He's half growling, half hissing with exertion. "Saw it coming. Now *you're* trapped with *me.*"

Says the man pinned flat on his back, scrabbling to get his legs around Sir Pentious's waist, no idea how to pin fifteen feet of snake without cheating by pulling out the tentacles.

Sir Pentious

"HA!!" He CACKLES, face mere INCHES from Alastor's--although with the way his neck is, it can be very far away. But he's choosing not to do that right now. "I CHOSE TO TELEGRAPH THAT ONE! FOR I WANTED TO SSEEE WHAT YOU WOULD--NGH--DO!" He says, flicking his tongue as he attempts to. Move his stuck arm,

"YOU ARE sssssssSTRONGER THAN YOU LOOK, ACTUALLY-- BUT!!! I!!! AM *MUCH HEAVIER.*" Time to. Raise himself up. C: How do you pile drive a man who is clinging to you???

"DO YOU BEG FOR MERCY, ALASSSSSTOR!?"

Alastor

You don't, that's how! "The bigger they are, the harder they fall!" He takes advantage of the temporarily reduced weight to twist to the side, squirm butt first sideways out from under Sir Pentious, and attempt to climb up onto Sir Pentious's back without letting go of his neck. "Mercy? From you? I'd be *insulted!*"

Sir Pentious

AHKKJDFJKJSHDFK! He's being CLIMBED!!! His eyes go all CRAZY--and he SCRAMBLES, trying to reach back to claw at him!!! All of his eyes are looking at Alastor, but alas, eyes on their won can't do much. He TURNS around, left, then RIGHT--DAMMIT!! Scrabble scrabble,

"WELL, *GOOD* BECAUSE I DO NOT--NGHGHRGH-- I DO NOT KEEP *PRISONERSSSS!*"

Alastor

Alastor laughs wildly—claw away, he has a pain tolerance somewhere halfway between "professional masochist" and "dead horse."

Unfortunately, while he's got a good grip, he can't DO much from right here. He could hypothetically strangle Sir Pentious until he passes out—but then he'd be passed out. All the tricks he knows to disable someone's legs are dependent upon them having legs. He gets one leg around Sir Pentious's hips and tries to slide the other one down lower to try to restrict the top of Sir Pentious's tail—yeah no, no, that's not going to do anything.

He can at least catch one wrist and... pin it behind Sir Pentious's back with his body? Yeah! Fifty percent less clawing.

Sir Pentious

............ That's it.

That's it! You know what he's going to do? He's going to LIE DOWN. Quite suddenly. Onto his back. THWUMP. And you know what he's going to do after that? Put his entire massive tail on top of himself. Get CRUSHED, you GRINNING DEERMAN.

Alastor

Why are they falling. Did he win—?

Oh. Shit.

The impact knocks the breath out of him with a loud crackle like the sound of thunder distorting a station's broadcast. For a split second, he's stunned—but he shakes it off when he feels Sir Pentious's back pressing harder against him as he prepares to pull up his frankly enormous tail. Oh no—

He attempts to squirm out of the way while the only thing he has to worry about is the weight of Sir Pentious's relatively slender torso, even relinquishing his headlock so he can push with both arms. He *nearly* gets free—except for one leg still pinned beneath. *Ow.*

He flings an arm and his other leg on top of Sir Pentious, trying to pin his tail in place against his torso while he's nearly doubled over like this. An alligator can bite hard enough to pierce steel but once its mouth is shut it can be kept shut with duct tape; maybe, Alastor thinks hopefully, trying to hold a snake doubled up like this is the same.

Sir Pentious

HA HA! Now, he had the Radio Demon exactly where he w---- What. What was this slithery man doing? Attempting to crawl out from under him? It wouldn't work, you can't get out of this one... His tail was going to come down, and that was going to be that! Crushed under the weight of SIR PEN--

Alastor had was apparently trying to pin his tail to his body to keep him from... what exactly??? Sir Pentious' eyes widened, a goofy amount as he turned his head to look at the impressive flexibility of a man who very much did not have as many joints as he did. "ALASSSTOR." He bares his fangs, quite psychotically.

"I AM MUCH MORE *FLEXIBLE* THAN YOU ARE!"

With a CACKLE, he wriggles the non-pinned portion of his tail upwards--if he had to crush Alastor beneath him in multiple ways, then so be it!!! No mercy? No insults, then!

He brings his tail down upon the both of them, like dropping the world's heaviest spaghetti onto a plate. SLAM!

Alastor

Yipe. He presses hard against Sir Pentious's side—like someone clinging to a friend during a jump scare at a haunted house—in the unconscious hope that the blow will come down less heavily if Sir Pentious has to slam himself just as hard.

If it helps, it's hard to tell. It knocks the air out of him again. *Wheeze.* He's not going to be able to take many more blows like that—it's a miracle that one didn't dislocate something—he's *got* to escape, but how—?

Sir Pentious has his entire tail in the air. Which is no fun for Alastor's pinned leg, but it means that Sir Pentious is only making contact with the ground along his back, the rest of him balanced precariously atop. Alastor considers this a split second; then unhooks the arm and leg he's been using to pin part of Sir Pentious's tail and *shoves,* trying to force him to roll over and fall onto his side so Alastor can free his pinned leg and squirm away.

Sir Pentious

The clinging gets loud purring out of Sir Pentious--but suddenly being SHOVED does end the entirety of that. You're right, the bigger they are, the harder they do fall! He goes briefly googly eyed as he topples over onto his side. His head whips around to watch the now free deerman--

"CAN'T GO FAR ON THOSE LEGSSSSSS OF YOURSSS ALASSSTOR!" But he doesn't give chase, instead rolling over again so he can lie on his front, his elbows propping up his head as he presses his hands to his cheeks, wiggling his tail with sadistic glee. "NO HUNTSSS TODAY, I'M AFRAID, NOT FROM THIS APEX PREDATOR!"

Alastor

He laughs triumphantly. Free! He back rolls away to get a little distance between himself and Sir Pentious, then gets to his feet!

And immediately falls on his butt again. With the tail of his coat flipped up and over his head from the back roll. The leg that was pinned to the floor is numb—it's only just starting to painfully tingle along his thigh where the blood flow was cut off.

He flips his coattail off his face, peers at his leg as he gives it an experimental wiggle, and says, "We'll call it a draw."

Sir Pentious

"*HEE HEE HEE!*"

Oh, look at Penny. He looks absolutely **tickled** with himself. He's hissing out laughter between his teeth, ssss ssss ssss!

Alastor

Oh. Hold on, Alastor's a little lightheaded suddenly. It's probably from that thwacking he took and definitely not anything else. Don't look at him, he's not staring at Sir Pentious, YOU'RE staring.

Wheezing with laughter between pants of exertion, he scoots up to Sir Pentious's side again. "I'm not used to fighting snakes!" He leans on an elbow. "I think I need more practice—but I didn't do bad, you have to admit that."

Sir Pentious

~~I am looking disrespectfully.~~ Sir Pentious turns to look at him, gesturing with his index claw to Alastor's face, then gesturing to the rest of him, "YES, YOU DID DO *RATHER* WELL! I HONESTLY DO NOT WRESTLE OFTEN! NO ONE TO DO IT WITH, AND IT ISN'T EXACTLY A *GENTLEMANLY* ACTIVITY. WHY, THE LASSST PERSON I WRESTLED WITH WAS THE LADY CENTIV. OH, WE BIT THE, AHEM, *SHIT* OUT OF EACH OTHER. IT WASSSS ONE OF MY FIRSSST ENCOUNTERSSS SSSINCE JOINING THAT WEBBED SSSITE."

Sir Pentious wiggles his fingers, "I AM MOSSSTLY SURPRISED YOU DID NOT SSSNAP IN TWO! YOU ARE MUCH SSSSTRONGER THAN YOU LOOK, I BELIEVE I SAID."

Alastor

"Biting's legal?! You mean I could have just—got my jaws around your neck when you were trying to flatten me with your tail, and that would have been it?" He'd considered it for a moment, while pressed up to Sir Pentious's side (listening to him purr), before electing to escape. An indignant harrumph. "The next time you launch a surprise attack, give me the rules of combat first."

Sir Pentious

He's BEAMING from ear to ear--well. He doesn't have any ears, but you know.

"I COULD HAVE BITTEN YOU, AS WELL, BUT THEN YOU'D BE LIGHTHEADED FROM BLOODLOSS BEFORE WE EVEN GOT OUT DRINK ON, MY GOOD MAN." Wiggly fingers!!!

Alastor

~~From snake headboob to snake headboob.~~ "So is the plan to wait until I'm drunk and then bite?" With mock offense, "When my senses will be fuzzy and I can't enjoy it properly?"

Sir Pentious

He just LAUGHS, and SLAPS Alastor on the back.

"YOU *FREAK*, I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF YOU! CANNIBAL COLONY, INDEED. BUT NO-- I'M NOT BITING YOU TONIGHT, UNLESS YOUR FOOD AND DRINK ARE NOT UP TO PAR!!!" He wiggles his tongue.

Alastor

He beams as he's slapped on the back like he just received high praise. Why yes. He is a freak. He can't get enough of you either. He's not staring at the tongue, YOU'RE staring— "No promises on the food, I had to make do with what was already in the hotel!" He gets to his feet, favoring his non-tingly leg, and offers a hand to Sir Pentious. "You can tell me whether it passes muster."

Sir Pentious

He takes the hand, but he ends up just getting himself back up--if he'd pulled on Al, he'd likely have just pulled him straight down. Heavy. Sir Pentious adjusts his bowtie, tilting his head somewhat upward like a certain <:chungo:738987082118201486> smug animal, "WELL, WELL, IT CANNOT BE HELPED. IN ALL HONESSSSTY, I CAME TO GET HAMMERED WITH MY BESSST MATE."

With a movement of his arms, he gestures towards the stairs, "LEAD ON, CHUM."

Alastor

"You're helping." He flings an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and leans on him to get the weight off his still-tingly leg. "I feel like I've just been injured in the trenches." He conjures up an old marching song to the rhythm of his walking and sings along to it, "*Pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag, and smile, smile, smile~!*"

Sir Pentious

He lowers his hood a bit more to avoid smacking the deerman in his face. Again. For the upteenth time--he doesn't know the number, but he sure will chuckle along. "OH, THAT'SSS RIGHT, YOU WERE IN ONE OF THE WARSSS, WEREN'T YOU? I COULD HAVE SSSSWORN YOU MENTIONED THAT." Sure, he'll help you, but he has to lower himself a great deal--he's longer now than he used to be! "YOU MIGHT AS WELL SIT ON MY TAIL, I'LL TAKE YOU UP... BUT I DON'T KNOW WHICH ROOM YOU'VE DESIGNATED."

Alastor

"I was in the *great* one, in fact! It didn't feel too great from the front, but they didn't poll the troops before naming it."

He snorts at the offer. "And me without my cowboy hat. I'd look ridiculous, perched on you with my feet pulled up." But he glances back at the length of Sir Pentious's tail consideringly. Looking ridiculous isn't an automatic dealbreaker.

But he shakes his head. "No, no! I'd rather keep malingering from up here." He resumes humming cheerily. The poor soldier, wounded in action.

Sir Pentious

"YOU COULD ALWAYS RIDE SIDE-SADDLE, BUT IN MY OPINION, YOU ALWAYS LOOK RIDICULOUS." Prrr prrr. He looks so pleased with himself. "THE *GREAT* WAR... I DO NOT ENVY THAT, NOT IN THE LEASSSST." A chuckle, "AS MUCH AS I ENJOY CHAOS AND BLOODSHED, I'D MUCH RATHER NOT BE ON THE FRONT LINESSSS. NOT MY EXPERTISE!"

Alastor

He unconsciously llllleans a little more to feel the purring against his side. Good vibrations.

"It's not mine either." He grimaces. "But! Who wants to talk about the war! It was already old news a hundred years ago!" He points the direction to turn at the top of the stairs.

Sir Pentious

He's tempted to just LIFT Alastor up, but he's tired after their rough housing. Yes, that was the reason. Turning...

"TRUE ENOUGH. WHY, I DIED ABOUT FORTY YEARS BEFORE IT, GIVE OR TAKE! NO NEED TO THINK ABOUT IT, BUT SSSTILL. HOW INTERESSSTING IT WOULD HAVE BEEN IF I HAD BEEN ABLE TO TRAVEL TO AMERICA, LIKE I HAD EVENTUALLY PLANNED. HAD I NOT DIED SSSO SSSUDDENLY, I WONDER IF WE WOULD HAVE MET SSSOMEHOW."

... A pause, "OH. RIGHT. WRONG VERSION! HA." He clears his throat, *where's the booze.*

Alastor

*Wrong version.* The same thought had hit him a moment faster than Sir Pentious, as he talked about never having been to America—when the version Alastor had known had had, as far as historians could work out, his entire career in the States.

He squeezes Sir Pentious's shoulders a little and plays along with the What If scenario. "I was born a couple decades after you died. By the time I would have been old enough to appreciate a meeting, you'd probably be well into retirement!" He laughs. "My molher told me that when she was a child, when you—*our* you, rather—were targeting American port cities, her family was making plans to migrate en masse inland to somewhere you wouldn't consider strategically valuable enough to hit—maybe join the Oklahoma land rushes, it was relatively close and they knew several other Black families going. But then you died and they stuck around in New Orleans."

He points at a door, here it is. "So, if you *had* come to America after '88—my mother might have ended up in Oklahoma while my father stayed in Louisiana and poor little Alastor would never have been born!"

Sir Pentious

He respects being humored without Alastor drawing too much attention to it. He listened with intent, trying to imagine the chaos his doppelganger sowed upon the port cities. A contented Cobra sigh, raspy and terrifying.

"*POOR* LITTLE ALASTOR! WHAT A SSSENTENCE THAT ISSS. YESSS, TOO RIGHT, I AM *MUCH* OLDER THAN YOU, CHUM. NOT THAT THAT KIND OF THING MATTERSSSS *HERE.* I'M OLDER THAN YOUR RAG-TAG POSSE PUT TOGETHER!" A chuckle.

He'll offer his arm for the Radio Demon, assuming his leg isn't back to its functional self, "YOU KNOW, MY FATHER WAS AMERICAN. FROM TENNESSEE. HE CAME OVER OUR WAYS ABOUT..." Hmm. Face of strained thought, "WELL, I'D SSSAY FIVE YEARS BEFORE HE MET MY MOTHER. HE CAME LOOKING FOR WORK, AND TO GET AWAY FROM THE *TENSIONS* IN THE SSSTATESSS, I IMAGINE. HE NEVER REALLY TALKED MUCH ABOUT HIMSELF, NOT TO ME."

Alastor

He's about to argue—Rosie's probably older than Sir Pentious several times over—but then he realizes that the "rag-tag posse" Sir Pentious is referring to is probably the hotel crew. "Ha! I don't know, Husk and I put together might have you beat, he's older than he looks."

His leg's just about back in working order, but that's not going to stop him from taking the offered arm. "Really! Half American, are you! I never would have guessed. I've never been to Tennessee—but I always meant to go, I had a pen pal in Memphis, brilliant occultist." He opens the door, tada. It's set up exactly the same as the last room they hung out in, booze and food waiting over on the expected table.

Sir Pentious

Oh excellent. He grins, showing off those sharp yellow teeth of his again, and pats his coat down. Good, good, he still has a few cigarettes on hand.

In Sir Pentious slithers, heading to the table immediately to claim dibs on a bottle of bourbon. He almost *nuzzles* it, it's been a while since he drank enough to get silly!

"YESS, HALF AMERICAN. I GENERALLY KEEP IT ON THE DOWNLOW, SSSINCE I BARELY KNOW MUCH ABOUT YOUR COUNTRY... OTHER THAN IT BEING LOUD ENOUGH TO HEAR ACROSS THE OCEAN, HA!"

Alastor

And here Alastor had expected him to go for brandy again.

"Ha! Guilty as charged and proud of it!" He unbuttons his coat and shrugs it off before he sits, asking, "You don't mind, do you? Maybe *you* can't sweat, but I can and I just wrestled an anaconda."

The food on offer is a weird hodgepodge of whatever Alastor could find that he thought met Sir Pentious's culinary preferences and that didn't come in plastic wrappers: French onion soup (leftover, but no need to mention that), a few rolls and a loaf of sourdough he popped into a nearby bakery to shamelessly steal, some smoked salmon—he gestures at it as the one item on display that most disappoints him, "I would have made *baked* salmon to go better with the soup if I'd known you were visiting"—and some cubes of beef he'd quickly seared, just barely on the cooked side of rare, tossed cheekily in a sugar bowl next to the French onion soup as if they were sugar cubes to be dropped into tea. With some random jams and a couple jars of mustard to compensate for the—by Alastor's standards—rather slim selection.

Sir Pentious

For a few seconds, Sir Pentious thought that Alastor was asking him if he minded that he was American. Once the sentence catches up, he waves a hand.

"NO, I DON'T MIND. I WOULD IF YOU WEREN'T WEARING ANYTHING UNDERNEATH THAT JACKET OF YOURSSSS." what a grin.

He's going to look over the selection, and cover his mouth as he looks a little.. Well! Sir Pentious didn't want to be *rude.*

"AH, AND HERE I SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT SANDWICHESSSS! I'M INTERESTED IN YOUR MEAT CUBES." Hee hee.

Alastor

He looks over the display ruefully. "I should have had sandwich meat on hand. Consider the cubes yours!" He pulls the soup bowl over, this is his now. Doesn't even need to scoop some out of the serving bowl now, does he? "*Next time,* I *insist* on six hours' warning before you come over for a picnic. There's no greater crime than for a host to let his guest go hungry!" Says the man guilty of crimes like "murder" and "eating people."

Sir Pentious

Prr. He swoops his hood over his shoulder, playing with it idly and grinning.

"VERY WELL, ALASTOR. I WON'T DUMP ANYMORE SSSURPRISE, LASSSST MINUTE VISITSSSS UPON YOU, UNLESS THERE'SSS NO PROMISE OF FOOD TO BE SSSERVED!"

It was funny to show up unannounced, but having barely any food to show for it did cut down on that food. He takes a seat on the couch, still clutching the bourbon.

"ALL THINGSSS CONSSSSIDERED, YOU DIDN'T DO TOO BAD!"

Alastor

“Even then, unless we’re going out, I’d like to have *something* edible on hand! My mother would fly down from Heaven to give me an earful if she found out I’d invited a friend into my home without feeding him—and the hotel’s full of beds and I’m in it daily, so it counts as a ‘home’ on a technicality.”

He waves off the faint praise, but not without his chest puffing up a little. He picks up a spoon and points at the soup. “Not a fan of French onion soup, I take it?”

Sir Pentious

He laughs, "OH, IT WOULDN'T BE *HELL* SHE'D HAVE A PROBLEM WITH, EH? MOSSST ASSUREDLY YOUR HOSSST ABILITIESSS." He laughs through his teeth.

"OH, THE SOUP? I HAVEN'T THOUGHT TO CHECK IT YET, BUT MEAT IS WHAT I'M MOSSSST IN THE MOOD FOR."

Alastor

Cue the studio audience laughter. “Damnation is no excuse for starving a guest!”

Alastor brightens. He’d thought that Sir Pentious’s disappointment was due to his opinion of the available offerings, but maybe it was only the quantity. He pushes the soup’s serving bowl back to the middle and gestures at the two smaller empty bowls he’d supplied. “It’s all onions, butter, and cheese—but I thought you might want meat in it! It pairs best with venison, but in a pinch beef will do fine.” (A lot of the side dishes Alastor makes pair best with venison. Is it because he thinks everything pairs best with venison or is it because he’s biased toward cooking foods he can have with venison? Who can say.) “I recommend tossing a few cubes in, that’s what they’re there for. It’s excellent for dipping bread in, too. Usually toast, but soft bread’s fine.”

Sir Pentious

A brief face scrunch at the mention of toast. Sir Pentious doesn't bother with the smaller serving bowls, instead taking a spoon and dipping it into the soup.

"I HATE TOAST. IT IS TOO CRUNCHY, TOO *BRITTLE.* THOUGH I NEVER HAD A PROPER *TOASSSSTER* FOR THAT KIND OF THING."

Alastor

“You may notice I didn’t bring toast. After all, we know well that *crumbly* is for the *lower class!*” No, he’s never going to forget that Sir Pentious said that.

Sir Pentious

He *cackles*, and puts the spoonful in his mouth. Wow, he didn't recoil this time! Instead he actually swallows it down, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"NOT BAD AT ALL, ALASSSTOR."

Alastor

He’s going to add that sand-sized grain of gold to the jar in which he collects words of positive affirmation from Sir Pentious. “I’ll keep it in my recipe book!” Apparently they’re eating straight out of the serving bowl. He gets a slice of sourdough and dips it into the bowl, like it’s some kind of au jus/fondue. “It uses a beef stock, so it still tastes rather meaty even without any actual meat.”

Sir Pentious

Snickering through his teeth, he moves to drop a few meat cubes into the soup. Sploot.

"THAT'SSS A FUN THING TO DO TO THE *HERBIVORES,* WOULDN'T YOU SSSSAY? NYA HA HA!"

Alastor

He laughs at the thought. “I don’t get along very well with vegetarians—but oh, wouldn’t that make them hopping mad! I’ll keep it in mind if I ever need to really insult one.”

Sir Pentious

"*SSS SSS SSS!*" OH, he is GIGGLY today! You're making him laugh so much, Alastor. But anyway, time to try the meat with the soup.... Nomf....

"MM, VERY WELL PREPARED. JUSSSST THE WAY I LIKE IT."

Alastor

He’s noticed! And every time it makes his dead heart flutter. “Good! I do believe I’m getting your tastes figured out.” As a reward for a job well done, he’s grabbing one of the meat chunks the next time he dips his bread in the bowl.

Sir Pentious

BRIEFLY BRISTLES. He fights the urge to be selfish, actually... Usually he would yell and fuss!

But he doesn't. Instead, he just WATCHES ALASTOR INTENTLY.

Alastor

Alastor watches Sir Pentious watch him intently. “... I *cooked* these, I can have one.”

Sir Pentious

"YES." He leans on his chin on his hands, still watching him with an ever growing grin! What a brat.

Alastor

Then he’s going to chew EXTRA SLOWLY, so Sir Pentious KNOWS that he’s savoring it.

Sir Pentious

SHIT EATING GRIN. What is wrong with this man. Finally he turns off of this nonsense, and reaches for a roll to bite into. Nomf.

Alastor

Alastor huffs, and takes another dip of the soup. "So, what brings you by so suddenly? A desperate desire to grind my smile into the floor, or something else?"

Sir Pentious

A blink! And Sir Pentious sits up straighter, adjusting his (used to be Al's) bowtie. "WELL, NO, NOT EXACTLY. I DID NOT HAVE THE CHANCE TO SSSSIT WITH YOU SSSO MUCH LASSSST TIME.... AND." His hand crawls across the table, and takes Alastor's, "SSSORRY, ABOUT LASSSST TIME. I MISSED YOU! I WANTED TO TALK AND TOUCH AND DRINK, BUT THINGSSSS WERE SSSO TENSE BEFORE. GAVE ME A RIGHT *SSSTOMACHACHE*."

Alastor

So it was intentional? Alastor's actually relieved to hear it. He'd been afraid that the reason they'd never touched was because Alastor had never initiated—that Sir Pentious didn't *want* to unless Alastor was pushing into his space.

Alastor immediately squeezes Sir Pentious's hand in relief. And then, just, casually, relocates himself to sit closer to Sir Pentious. Not quite close enough to touch shoulders, but enough to make clear that Sir Pentious *totally could* if he *wants* to. Hint hint. "I missed you too!" He gives Sir Pentious a wan smile, then glances away, focused on the table. "Why was it tense?" Unspoken: *what did I do?* "I know why at the *end,* but... that was the end. It doesn't explain the rest of the movie."

Sir Pentious

And touch shoulders he *does*, bumping against Alastor's with his own, still holding that hand as he taps his talons against it to a melody that wasn't playing. "AH, WELL... THAT'SS DUE TO A MISSSSCONCEPTION THAT VALERA HAD ACQUIRED ABOUT YOU, BACK WHEN YOU WERE A TAD *SSSNIPPY* WITH HER OVER THE MUSICAL CHOICESSS. YOU SSEE AT THE TIME, I WANTED TO HEAR HER REASONING."

Sir Pentious waves a hand, "SHE HAD THISS THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE *JEALOUSS* OVER HOW I PRIORITIZED HER INSSTEAD OF YOU! BUT, WELL, I DID NOT THINK THAT SSSOUNDED LIKE YOU AT ALL. OUR RELATIONSHIP ISSN'T LIKE THAT..." Another hand squeeze, "I ASSURE YOU THAT IT ISSS ALL SAID AND DONE, AND SHE HASS SINCE ADMITTED TO HER MISSCONCEPTIONSS. SHE WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU, AS I FIGURED. BUT DURING THE MOVIE, I FEARED THAT JEALOUSSSSY LINGERED IN THE AIR, AND A CERTAIN TENSENESSSSSS BETWEEN YOU BOTH, IT ALL CAME TO A HEAD WHEN THE ARGUMENT SSSTARTED."

A sigh, and he keeps hold of Alastor's hand, but uses his other to pat it, "PARANOIA CAN MAKE FOOLSSSS OF USS ALL. IT HASS BEEN DEALT WITH, REGARDLESS! WE SSSPOKE AT LENGTH ABOUT IT, AND I AM CONFIDENT THAT SHE NO LONGER HASS THOSE MISCONCEPTIONSS ABOUT YOU, ALASSTOR." He beams with pride.

Alastor

A surge of anger pulses through Alastor. "Oh, so she talked to you about that." And in the process made Alastor look bad enough that Sir Pentious hadn't even wanted to touch him. Who was the one acting jealous—

Stop. It was resolved. Valera had apparently admitted her error to Sir Pentious, things were fine now.

"Well. If she didn't already tell you herself, I was snippy *because* of her musical choices. Of every person she picked songs for, I was the only one she singled out to receive songs that, by her own admission, I wouldn't like!" A pause. "Which *sounds* insignificant, but coming from one aficionado of musical theater to another, it's a grave insult! Particularly since our both being in musical theater means she *shares* my tastes. Honestly, I'm amazed she thought that thing had anything to do with you." He bumps Sir Pentious's shoulder. "What kind of a poor friend would I be if I got jealous over a man spending time with his own fiancée! I can assure you that all the tension was one-sided."

Sir Pentious

"IN TRUTH, I HAVEN'T THE FOGGIEST WHAT YOU TWO TALKED ABOUT--I DECIDED IT WASSN'T ANY OF MY BUSINESS! BEING CAUGHT BETWEEN THAT WAS SSOMETHING I'D NOT LIKE A REPEAT OF." An uneasy smile, but he bumps right back. "YESS, YOU AND VALERA BOTH HAVE QUITE A LOT OF MUSICAL TASSSSTESSS IN COMMON! SSSUPPOSE IT WAS SSIMPLY PARANOIA GETTING TO HER." He clears his throat, "I KNOW THE FEELING. IT CONVINCESSS MYSELF OF MADNESS AND SSPINSS LIESS AS THE TRUTH WITH SSSUCH *CHARISMA.*... AND MAKESS MONSSTERSS OF THE ONESS I CARE ABOUT."

Oh hey LOOK AT THE TIME! It's time to pour himself some bourbon.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious doesn't want to be in the middle, then Alastor has no right to drag him back in; the sentences he'd been lining up to try to explain his side die in his throat. And anger flares back up again—it's all well and good that Valera apparently resolved it, but it sits like a lump in his gut that the only narrative of the situation that lives in Sir Pentious's head is whatever Valera deigned to tell him. It's harder this time to swallow the anger down.

He wrestles with his words, trying to pare everything he wants to say down to something small enough to squeeze out without adding unduly to Sir Pentious's burden, "I don't know what she told you—or has *been* telling you—but after our conversation, I can fairly confidently state that she's been wrong about... just about *everything* she's thought about me for months." He grimaces. "I wish I could say more than that, but I don't know what all she claimed about me—she didn't mention that she'd said anything to you at all! And I'm not going to ask."

He picks up a glass and holds it out. Give him some too.

Sir Pentious

He pours bourbon for Alastor, as well, and studies the deerman's expression.

"WELL, PERHAPSS YOU CAN SHED SSSOME LIGHT ON YOUR PART, ALASSSTOR? BECAUSE WHAT I MENTIONED BEFORE, WITH HER ASSUMING THAT YOU WERE JEALOUS, WELL THAT WAS THE FIRSSST I'D HEARD OF IT! WHICH WASS WHY I WAS CAUGHT OFF GUARD. I DIDN'T HOLD YOU OR PLAY WITH YOU AS USUAL, BECAUSE I HAD SSSSURMISED THAT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN UPSSSETTING TO *HER*... ALTHOUGH WHEN I MENTIONED IT TO HER, SHE SSSEEMED UPSSET THAT I'D THOUGHT TO DO THAT AT ALL."

His tongue hangs out like he's exhausted, "SSO MY EFFORTSS TO QUELL A SSSITUATION I DID NOT UNDERSSSTAND CLEARLY DID NOT DO MUCH, EXCEPT MAKE YOU FEEL UNWANTED, I IMAGINE."

Alastor

Half the tension leaks out of him as the implicit gag order is lifted, he can explain his side now.

"You imagined correctly." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Truth be told, I... well, I spent half the movie wondering if I'd said something wrong, or if you'd *never* wanted to touch me and I just somehow hadn't noticed because I'd always been the one to initiate it. I was sure that couldn't be true, I try not to initiate, but... well, like you said, paranoia makes monsters." He leaves it unstated that in this case, the one paranoia had made a monster of was himself.

"She—somehow got it into her head that every single thing I said and did to her was loaded down with a subtext of veiled hostility and threats. Which is ludicrous! Not only do I have nothing against her, but I wanted to be her friend! Which is a rare occurrence! I don't meet many people that make me go, 'Now, *there's* someone who'd fit perfectly into my little social circle!' I don't put in an effort that often! And when I do, it's..." He struggles with his words for a moment. "I'm usually—*good* at it. *Very* good at it. I used to be, anyway."

He pulls his hand back so he can cross his arms tightly, compensating by leaning more heavily on Sir Pentious. This was easier to talk about when he was angry. Now, he finds, it just hurts.

Sir Pentious

Oh... Sir Pentious tilts his head as Alastor speaks, considering his own thoughts. Should he tell him his own *guesses* as to why? or would that just make everything worse? It was hard to say--Valera and Alastor were both quite *sensitive* in their own ways. Sometimes, he'd say something that would get a negative reaction out of them and it would take the serpent a moment to reevaluate what he said and how it could have affected them!

So, for the moment... he slides his tail around the back of Alastor, puts an arm around his shoulders, and pulls the Radio Demon to his side. He'd rest his chin on Al's head, but he wasn't looking to *stab himself through the skull* with those antennae.

"YOU HAVE A BIT OF A REPUTATION, YOU KNOW. AT LEASSST DOWN HERE. YES, IT ISSS TRUE THAT VALERA DOES NOT HAVE THAT SSSAME UNDERSSTANDING BUT... PERHAPSSS MY PARANOID DELUSIONSS FROM MONTHSSS AGO SSANK INTO HER UNDERSTANDING. OR! PERHAPSS IT'S YOUR SMILE, YOUR SSSTATIC GRIN!"

He takes out his phone, and types in a sentence. "Hello, stinky." he types into it, and then adds a simple :) smiley face, "LOOK AT THISSS, ALASTOR. ARE YOU AWARE OF THISSS PHENOMENON?"

Alastor

He starts slightly when he feels himself being embraced. Is—is he being... comforted? It feels weird. He leans into it.

He groans. "I know I do." There are very few things he regrets, but his rampage when he arrived in Hell is constantly hovering on the verge of making the list. Nothing he's done or refrained from doing since then has ever let him move past it. "But she doesn't have that context! She shouldn't, anyway."

Alastor looks at the example, is immediately self-conscious, and lightly elbows Sir Pentious. "You'd better not be mixing a jab in with your example, I smelled fine before you got me sweaty." He'd managed to squeeze in a quick shower amidst scrambling for food. He'd been showering a lot more since he'd started hanging out with Sir Pentious. "Yes, I know, smile when you insult someone and it's all the more biting. I know that! I understand the nuances and subtleties to a smile! You don't wear the same facial expression for eighty-seven years without learning its limitations inside and out! I'm *good* at telegraphing whether I like or despise someone, when I want to. And I wanted to."

Sir Pentious

"SSS, SSS, SSS!" Sir Pentious snickers through his teeth, and flicks one of Alastor's ears with a talon, "YOU DON'T SSSMELL. I'D BE ABLE TO TASTE IT ALREADY!" Weird thing to say but he is a snake. He swivels is head around, long neck allowing him to look Alastor around the front without moving the rest of his body. You're friends with a *noodle*, Alastor.

"WHEN WE FIRSSSST BEGAN MEETING, EVEN AFTER THE LETTERSSSS AND THE PROMISSSSESSSS... IT TOOK ME SSSOME TIME TO FEEL COMFORTABLE AROUND YOU, AND IT WASSS BECAUSE I COULDN'T HELP BUT READ ALL OF YOUR SSSMILESS, DESSPITE YOUR MOVEMENTSS AND YOUR VOICE, AS *A THREAT.*" He gestures to his phone again, "TAKE THISSS SMILEY FOR EXAMPLE. YOU WOULD THINK THAT THISSS SMILEY FACE WOULD CREATE A SSSENSE OF CAMRADERIE AMONGSST THE ONLINE TEXTING COMMUNITIESSS, BUT APPARENTLY, IT ONLY CREATESSS A SSSENSE OF *DREAD.* A SSORT OF... PASSIVE AGGRESSION!"

He leans back a bit, tapping a claw to one of his fangs, "AND THAT COULD VERY WELL BE WHY, ALASSSTOR. SHE MUSSST THINK THAT YOUR SSSMILEY FACE IS A THREAT, IN HER MIND! I KNOW WHEN I SSMILE AS YOU DO, IT ISSS USUALLY BECAUSE I WANT TO SHOW OFF MY *TEETH.*" And he does it right then, too, beaming.

Alastor

"I *know!* The fact that it's threatening is one of the reasons I do it! But I can get *past* that instinctive reaction with most people when I choose to! Unless I'm just—just... losing my edge."

He sighs. He looks tired.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious puts the phone away--or in this case just fumbles it briefly and lets it bounce on the table. It's fine. He clears his throat, "WELL, I KNOW THISS MUCH... I BECAME *MUCH* MORE ABLE TO TRUSST YOU WHEN I COULD *TOUCH* YOU, ALASSSTOR." All of his eyes are looking away, "USUALLY I HATE THAT KIND OF THING BUT... PERHAPSSS IT MADE YOU MORE *REAL* TO ME." To punctuate his thought, he takes hold of Alastor's hand again and squeezes it.

"VALERA AND I HIT IT OFF RATHER WELL, BUT ONLY AFTER WE TOUCHED... AND SHE AND I ARE VERY ALIKE, AS WELL, IN OUR WAYSSS.... PERHAPSSS THAT'SS THE KEY!" He laughs behind a hand, "NOW I AM NOT SSSSUGGESTING YOU GO AND FONDLE MY WIFE, ALASSSTOR, BUT PERHAPSSS OFFERING HER YOUR HAND MIGHT EASE SSSOME OF HER WORRIES?"

Alastor

He squeezes Sir Pentious's hand, glad to have it back. "More real?" He laughs weakly. "What was I before then, a ghost? A disembodied voice in a box?"

The corners of his mouth curl down. "It's a ridiculous price to pay just to prove I don't detest her! And I *have* held her hand before—apparently it didn't do any good."

Sir Pentious

"PERHAPSSS YOU SHOULD CONSIDER GROWLING SSCALESS AND LOSING THOSE LEGSSS OF YOURS. MIGHT I SSUGGESST SWAPPING THEM OUT FOR A TAIL INSSSTEAD? HA HA!" He purrs, taking hold of his glass.

Alastor

"Oh, I couldn't do that! I'd miss tap dancing and shaving too much." Laugh track. He's gonna just, subtle cuddle further into that purr. And slide his free arm around Sir Pentious. Alastor's got Sir Pentious's tail around him, reciprocating with an arm is fair game, right? He hopes so. It feels nice.

Sir Pentious

He's not about to push him away, anyway. Sir Pentious' tongue flicks out, wiggling in front of Alastor's face before he sucks it back in, "I FEEL FOR YOU, ALASSTOR, THAT THINGSSS ARE *BUMPY*. I DON'T REALLY KNOW THE FIX--IT ISSN'T LIKE ADJUSTING UNEVEN BOLTS OR REBUILDING THE BOILER ROOM FROM SSSSCRATCH BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL OWNERS OF THIS BUILDING HAD ZERO IDEA WHAT THEY WERE DOING." Ahem, "*PEOPLE* AREN'T MY EXPERTISE, NOT AT ALL. I THINK, IT COULD JUSST BE, THAT VALERA MAY NEED TO FIGURE YOU OUT ON HER OWN, PREFERABLY WITHOUT HURTING HERSSSELF OR YOU."

Alastor

"There's nothing *to* fix." Alastor shrugs ruefully. "She misunderstood; I explained; now she doesn't misunderstand. There's nothing else to do about it now."

Sir Pentious

"YOU COULD ALWAYS BREAK INTO SSSONG, I'VE HEARD THAT HELPS." He beams, knocking his glass against Alastor's a touch.

Alastor

He grimaces more, then shifts enough to put his glass on the table out of range before curling back up. He doesn't want to drink right now.

"The issue is—It's—To use your metaphor, it's fine to fix a boiler that some other incompetent idiot built—but what if the boiler that breaks down is one *you* designed and built? It doesn't matter that you can fix it, that doesn't solve the real problem—that you messed it up in the first place. You pride yourself as an engineer and inventor, what does it say about you if you ruined a mere, simple boiler?"

Sir Pentious

When Alastor curls back up, it dawns on Sir Pentious suddenly that they were actually talking very seriously about this. It wasn't that he was totally oblivious, but it clearly stopped being a discussion, and now, the Hellish Gentleman had to find some way to comfort his friend. Of all the scenarios to find himself in, comforting the Radio Demon had never really crossed his mind. ... Or had it?  He did want to go drinking with Alastor, after all. Hmm.

He gets a little quiet, placing his own glass against the table and leaning back. Time to sink down to the floor, taking the deerman with him. "...I'd argue that--I have more experience with *that* particular example than *you* do, Alassstor. The leak is always in the same place, no matter how many timessss I repair it."

Alastor

Oh, okay, they're sliding off the couch now. Down they go. He repositions himself once they're on the floor.

He wasn't expecting to *look* for comfort from Sir Pentious. He's not even sure that *is* what he's doing—his only goal had been to make himself understood, nothing more. But here they are.

"Well, that's... Everyone has their weak points, of course. But this *isn't* one of mine. At least, it hasn't been before. So I can't help but wonder if I..." He trails off. "I think I'm repeating myself.  I apologize, I'm sure that's boring."

Sir Pentious

"ALASSSTOR, IF I THOUGHT YOU WERE BORING, I WOULD HAVE *LEFT* ALREADY!" And he flicks his ear again, "I AM *KIDDING.* I DON'T MIND TALKING TO YOU ABOUT THISSS, BUT I DO KNOW THAT I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH HELP I CAN *BE.* I AM SSSTILL NAVIGATING MYSELF THROUGH ALL OF THIS... IT'SS HARD TO KNOW WHAT TO DO WHEN THINGSSS YOU WORK ON BREAK! BUT I HAVE LEARNED THAT PEOPLE ARE NOT LIKE *MACHINESSS*, FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE."

He squeezes that hand again, "TELL YOU WHAT! I WILL ASSSK VALERA FOR YOU! HOW ABOUT THAT?"

Alastor

Alastor doesn't laugh. He knows it's true, even if Sir Pentious doesn't. Of course they wouldn't be friends if Alastor was boring. If he was boring, he wouldn't even be *Alastor* anymore.

"No. There's nothing you need to ask her, what could you possibly ask her? It—I'm hardly even talking about Valera at this point, this has nothing to *do* with her except that she inadvertently uncovered a problem I already suspected!"

Sir Pentious

His face falls at that-- and he looks in a different direction. A short inhale with a bit of a louder *exhale...* He didn't know what Alastor was going on about, overall, due to him not being as talkative as usual.... so Sir Pentious just curls around him, allowing Alastor to essentially sit on the cinnamon roll that was Sir Pentious.

"WELL, I AM NOT DEVELOPING TELEPATHY ANY TIME SSSOON, MAN. IS HELL GETTING TO YOU, AFTER A HUNDRED YEARSSS?"

Alastor

"*Exactly!* That's exactly it!" He sits up a little to look at Sir Pentious directly. "*Is* it getting to me?! Has it—has it been getting to me since the day I arrived? I'm a *radio host*, damn it, people *like* me, they've *always* liked me—but they've *never* liked me in Hell, because I—I precluded the possibility of that on my very first day! I can say it was my own fault, but I, I don't think it entirely *was*, I think that's what Hell *does,* it conspires around you to make you... trip and stumble into doing whatever it is that will make them suffer the most, tricks you into orchestrating your own divine punishment. And my worst—part of my worst punishment would be—*losing* that! Being a radio host! All my charisma, my charm, everything my audience loved me for! I already lost my audience, I took care of that my first day, but what about the rest of it? That likability? I always *feel* the weight of Hell on me, I don't think *everyone* feels it so clearly but I do, I've always been more sensitive to things like that—I think Hell takes something from us, on a spiritual level, slowly, over time. What if this is what it's been taking from me? What if it's going to leave me a—a hackneyed, cheesy, boring... has-been?"

He pauses to take a breath.

Then he winces. "Was that too much?"

Sir Pentious

Oh! Hmm. Sir Pentious sits up at that, though in his efforts he may have disturbed Alastor a little- he brings a hand to his chin in thought, mulling over what the other rambled on and on about. That did seem to allign with his own misgivings about Hell--could they even be called that? Hell certainly sucked! It may not have lined up with the scriptures, but it sure did feel *awful all the time.* No matter how high one climbed, there'd always be something to knock them down.

"FOR ALL THE INVENTING I'VE DONE, FOR ALL THE LEAPSSS AND BOUNDSSS I'VE MADE WITH MY PROWESS AS AN INVENTOR, NOBODY EVER SSSEEEMED TO *CARE* DOWN HERE. I CONTINUED AT IT, OVER AND *OVER* AGAIN, IN TIRELESS PURSUIT OF BEING RECOGNIZED, OF BEING KNOWN!! AND..." A huff, "VERY FEW RECOGNIZE IT, VERY FEW PEOPLE SSSEEM TO GIVE ANY KIND OF *DAMN*. AND NOT TO MENTION ALL OF THE... *ROADBLOCKS*, AS IT WERE... EVERY PERSON WHO KNOCKED ME DOWN SEEMED TO HAVE BEEN DESIGNED PERSONALLY FOR ME! TO HIT ME WHERE IT *HURT MOST.*"

He lies back down, flopping back with his arms out. "... I'D JUST ABOUT GIVEN UP, ALASSTOR. AND THEN.... VALERA CAME INTO MY LIFE, AND THEN I MET YOU, AND... IT'SSS AS IF THINGSSS HAVE PURPOSE AGAIN. I CAN FEEL MY WILL RETURNING--BUT NOT JUSSST THAT... I AM *ACTUALLY* EXCITED TO BLOW UP THIS PUTRID SHITHOLE AND REMAKE IT IN MY IMAGE!!! I FEEL LIKE I HAVE SO MANY OPTIONSSS!"

Sir Pentious sits up a bit once more, looking at the Radio Demon with a smile--not his usual aggressive grin, but a kind smile. "I DON'T THINK OF YOU AS SSOME KIND OF 'HAS-BEEN'-- YOU'VE LIKELY JUST GOT TO FIND YOUR NEW AUDIENCE. AND YOU FOUND ME!!! I TUNE IN ALL THE TIME."

Alastor

He's on pins and needles until Sir Pentious starts talking, not sure if the pile of decades-old fears he'd just dumped on Sir Pentious was going to drive him off. (Is Alastor still worth being friends with if he's not just the two-dimensional entertainment, if he has worries too? Other people might think so—but will Sir Pentious?)

And then Sir Pentious starts talking, and Alastor is spellbound. He has to keep stopping himself from interrupting to agree—because yes, he's observed the exact same thing for decades from watching his own Sir Pentious, yes, he does believe that people are specifically set on collision courses with each other in order to hurt each other as much as possible—so he just nods along enthusiastically to everything he agrees with.

*Purpose.* Alastor takes Sir Pentious's hand again, squeezing it. "I've felt... somewhat the same. I know you don't think much of my own lack of ambition, and I truly don't have any interest in taking over Hell, but—I hope I don't sound too sentimental when I say that watching *you* pursue the crown... it's always been inspiring." His smile's unusually self-conscious.

"Maybe a new audience is all I need. Truth be told, that's the real reason I agreed to Charlie and Vaggie's ridiculous "blog" idea—I was *desperate* for an audience. I suppose at least some good's come of it." He laughs ruefully.

"And yet... I can't quite shake the thought that the only reason the stars aligned to let us be friends is so that some higher power can use it to break us someday." He looks away. "I—sincerely believe—and have for *years*—that I'm one of the people that were designed to hit you where it hurt most. And I'm referring to our respective, parallel... your me and my you. I hope it's not the case with *us.* But if it is, are we going to be able to tell before it's too late?"

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious brushes his hood back behind his head, then puts both arms around Alastor only to pull him in close and LIE on him. Squish. You get loud Cobra breathing as he mulls over what's said.  "I DON'T KNOW--YOU SSSSOUND PARANOID, PERHAPSSS YOU NEED TO RELAX." He beams, "BUT HONESTLY, I DON'T KNOW. I'M... TIRED OF WORRYING ABOUT IT!! I WANT TO... JUSST SSEE, I SSSUPPOSE. I'VE HAD FUN, YOU KNOW. EXPERIENCING THINGSSS AGAIN. AND BEING *EXCITED* TO WAKE UP. IT'SS... ...."

He gets a little quiet again, thinking to those nights of anguish, of screaming and dragging his claws through his own scales. A shake of his head, "WELL, IT'SS REFRESHING, TO SSAY THE LEASST. AND I'M TIRED OF BEING AFRAID OF WHAT *COULD* BE."

Alastor

*Squish.* He hugs Sir Pentious back tightly. "Is it really paranoia when we're in a prison divinely designed to serve as eternal torment?"

But Sir Pentious has a point—Alastor is tired of worrying about it, too. He's tired of the guilt and the grief and the regrets. "I hear you." He holds on a little tighter. "I—haven't had much worth waking up for in a long time, either. It's a nice change."

Sir Pentious

"YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS A NICE CHANGE?"

Sir Pentious slaps at the table blindly before giving up, "I WAS GOING TO SAY DRINKING WITH A FRIEND! BUT. I COULDN'T REACH,"

Alastor

Alastor laughs, tries to reach, and finds he's not going to do any better as long as Sir Pentious is pinning him down. "Oh, well. It can wait."

Sir Pentious

Prr prr. Oh well. He's gonna stay like this a little longer until....

"HASSS BEEN.... HAAZZZ.... *OH.* IS THAT WHY THE SIGN SAYS THAT? *HA!*"

Alastor

Ding ding ding. "Isn't that what *most* of the damned are? People who used to *be* something, and aren't anymore? Anyone who comes looking for redemption has just given up on trying to make something of themselves in Hell, too!"

Sir Pentious

"I CAN'T TELL IF IT'SSSS A SSSELF BURN OR NOT, ALASSSTOR.... BUT AT THE VERY LEAST, REDEMPTION! *PAH.* IT COULD NEVER HAPPEN. NEVER!"

Alastor

"*I'm* not at the hotel seeking *redemption.* I'm here to watch the sinners seeking redemption fail spectacularly."

But no yeah it's a self-burn. He's not going to count himself among the has-beens *out loud,* but...

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious could relate to that. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but! He was a failure, in a lot of ways. Succeed in something, but at the cost of too much else.

He moves to get up in order to grab at his glass.... But then lies down again. "YOU ARE VERY WARM." Reptile here,

Alastor

Alastor laughs. "It's all that mammal blood in me. Are you cold?" He looks around, trying to figure out if the bed's cover is within arm's reach. Nope.

Sir Pentious

"ALWAYSSSS. THE THERMOSSSSTAT WOULD HAVE TO BE CRANKED UP MUCH HIGHER FOR ME TO FEEL *COMFORTABLE*. AND SOMETIMESSSSS, HELL FREEZES OVER, OR AT LEAST DROPSSS TO THE NEGATIVESSSS."

.... "30 DEGREES, YOU AMERICAN." He's smiling smugly~  "DON'T PUT A BLANKET ON ME ANYWAY, I'LL END UP GOING TO SLEEP."

Alastor

His stomach twists at the phrase *hell freezes over*. He compensates by holding Sir Pentious just a little bit tighter. For the moment, he's silent.

Sir Pentious

A blink, another blink. Oh, shit, did he break Alastor? Sir Pentious swivels his head to the side, looking him over.... Blelelelele of his tongue. Concern,,,,

Alastor

Alastor flinches. "Sorry! Sorry, I was just—just thinking." He clears his throat with a noise of a dial flipping rapidly through several stations. "On the day that... when your version of me... betrayed you. Was it cold?"

Sir Pentious

*Oh.* His head lurches back.... And he thinks on it. It was hard to remember, exactly how everything had *felt*.

".... IT WAS A *BLUR*, REALLY... I. DO NOT RECALL IT AS WELL... SAFE FOR THE SSOUND OF VOLTAGE, OF WIRES SNAPPING AND METAL *CREAKING*... FEELING AS THOUGH I WERE DROWNING IN THAT SSSMILE, IN THE SSSTATIC."

But was it cold? "I.      SSSORRY, ALASSSTOR. MY MEMORY ISN'T..." He looks embarrassed.

Alastor

"It's fine! It's fine, don't worry about—I shouldn't have brought it up." *His* Sir Pentious had been cold that morning. "You had more important things to worry about." So did Alastor—but he's never forgotten that cold. "Hearing you of all people talk about Hell freezing over, it made me think of—well. Old news."

Sir Pentious

A frown, and a look of frustration. He's not sure what he accidentally *said*, so when he hugs tighter this time, he pinches Alastor with his claws.

Alastor

Alastor just *said* what he said.

He flinches in surprise with a crackle of static. “What are you—?” He pinches back!

Sir Pentious

His hood FLOOPS up! And he lifts himself up some to pin Alastor to the floor, glaring down at him.

"I JUSSSST SSSSAID IT BECAUSE I'M COLD! THAT'SSSS ALL! EVERY TIME I SEE THOSE *CHRISTMAS* COLORS OR SWEATERSSSS I'M REMINDED OF HOW *UNPLEASANT* WINTER WASSS AND HOW IN *MY* HELL, SOME DAYSSSS THE TEMPERATURE JUST *DROPSSSSSS!*"

He presses their foreheads together, with Pentious STARING AT HIM. "THERE WILL BE NO READING TOO MUCH INTO MY WORDSSSSS, ALASSSTOR!!!"

Alastor

His heart leaps up into his throat. “I’m not reading too much into them! It just reminded me, that’s all!” Being flat on the ground with Sir Pentious pinning him down and pressing their faces together isn’t helping him feel any less reminded. And it occurs to him, dangerously, that it would be absolutely *effortless* to tilt up his chin and kiss Sir Pentious.

He’s got to remove *that* temptation real fast. He lunges up, wraps his arms around Sir Pentious, and pulls him back down into a hug again, putting his chin on Sir Pentious’s shoulder. “I hate the cold too. Hell does the same thing here too—three days in a row you can have temperatures of a hundred, zero, a hundred. And that’s an *American* zero.”

Sir Pentious

*BODY HEAT.*

He briefly is tempted to undo Alastor's shirt collar so he can get to his skin, but that decidedly was his animal brain talking. Don't do that.

"AH, YES, THAT SSSSOUNDSSS ABOUT RIGHT. IT DROPSSS SSSO QUICKLY." He pets down his scales, "IT ALSO JUMPSSSS UP SUDDENLY AS WELL... BEFORE I MET YOU OR VALERA, I HAD A DAY OF THE TEMPERATURE CLIMBING *SSSO* MUCH THAT MY BODY BEGAN TO *BUBBLE* AND *BLISTER*...." He winces.

"IT'SSSS A USUAL THING, PERHAPSSSS HELL'S ATTEMPT AT RECREATING THE SSSSUMMER."

Alastor

Alastor also winces on his behalf. “It doesn’t usually get much hotter than a hundred around Pentagram City, what with Lake Cocytus so close—but I’ve heard about weather like that in some of the other circles! Particularly around the volcanoes. When we do get more extreme weather, there’s no rhyme or reason to when it happens—I don’t think our Hell is trying to replicate any seasons, it’s just doing whatever it feels will annoy us most in the moment.”

He’s been laid on enough for now, he thinks. What happens if he tries to, just... sort of... roll them over, so he’s the one laying on top.

Sir Pentious

"THAT MAKESSSSS SSSENSE. WISHFUL THINKING ON MY PART, THEN."

...... He doesn't like being on the bottom! He scrambles to sit up! Tongue flicks, "ARE WE GOING TO DRINK NOW?!"

Alastor

Aw. He ruined it. He ruined the moment. He sits up. “Sure, sure!” He picks up his as yet untouched drink and takes a sip.

Sir Pentious

As he is generally known for doing! Remember the musical number he blew up?

Sir Pentious knocks his glass against Alastor's, "CHEERSSS,."

Alastor

Alastor was referring to himself ruining the moment, actually, because he has learned that all bad things that happen to him are either a consequence of or a comeuppance for his own horrible actions. But if Sir Pentious wants some credit, he can have it.

However, Alastor is still a little chunk of venison surrounded by a big pile of noodles, so it’s not all bad. “Cheers!” Tap. He takes a bigger drink.

Sir Pentious

DULY NOTED.

Penny takes a deep gulp and rubs at his throat, *purrrring* at the burning sensation.

"AHHH, THAT HISSSS JUST RIGHT!"

Alastor

“Only the *highest* quality of the sub-par junk we stock at the bar,” Alastor boasts. If that can be called a boast. “I’ll get some top notch stuff for next time. And I’ll see if I can find some ha... habooshoo? Was that what it was called?”

He sets his drink back down and goes for the food again. Far be it from him to make Sir Pentious drink alone, but if he can help it, he doesn’t want to get drunk this time. He’s enjoying himself too much to want parts of this hangout to go fuzzy around the edges.

Sir Pentious

"AH! THE HABUSHU, YESSS, THAT ALCOHOL JAPONAISE!" He nods a few times, recalling the snake, "MMM, HMMM. I COULD ALWAYSSS ASK KATSSSSU FOR MORE, I'M SURE."

Alastor

“Oh right, *him.*” Katsu keeps coming up and Alastor keeps being mildly surprised every time he comes up. “The one who got promoted from nephew to son. I’ve been meaning to ask about that—are you... actually doing any *parenting,* per se, or is it more of an honorary title?” Katsu seems old enough to take care of himself to Alastor, but they’ve only briefly met in person, and at any rate Alastor has found that the average age of “old enough” has been creeping later and later over recent decades.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious makes a bit of a *face*, and reaches instead for the brandy, uncorking (?) it.

"AH, WELL. YOU KNOW ITSSS A BIT UNUSUAL, ISN'T IT? I DON'T KNOW THE BOY TOO WELL. HE MOST ASSUREDLY LATCHED ONTO *ME* RATHER EARLY! BUT I THINK VALERA KNOWSSSS HIM BETTER THAN I DO. WE'VE SSSPENT A LITTLE TIME TOGETHER, BUT HM. I HESITATE TO CALL HIM *MY* SSSON AT THISS JUNCTURE."

Alastor

“*Ah.* Well, that explains a lot. He asked if he could call me ‘uncle’ almost immediately after meeting me.” He makes a bit of a face as well, insofar as he can with a smile on—all squinty eyes and scrunched nose. “I know some people do that out of desperation, and they have my pity, but I detest being on the receiving end!”

He nudges Sir Pentious. “How did Valera end up with him? I’ve been meaning to ask! Last I’d heard, he was calling someone else ‘mother’ and then suddenly here he was hanging around you two!”

Sir Pentious

Look at him, he looks un*comf*ortable suddenly! Sir Pentious rubs the back of his head, before he takes a swig of brandy straight from the bottle.

"OH, I REALLY FEEL AS THOUGH THE DETAILSSSS ARE LOSSST ON ME... VALERA MENTIONED SSSSOME SSSORT OF *ISSUES* BETWEEN MEREDITH AND KATSSSSU.... IT COULD BE A *JOINT* CUSSSSTODY SSSSITUATION?"

He rests his cheek on his palm, looking a little embarrassed, "IF THISSS WAS EXPLAINED TO ME, I... CLEARLY DIDN'T HEAR IT.   BUT THE BOY LATCHESSS ON SSSO QUICKLY! I WAS SHOCKED TO LEARN HE WAS EIGHTEEN... WHEN I WAS HIS AGE, I WAS SSSTUDYING MATH IN PARIS."

Alastor

Well, Alastor didn’t want to make him uncomfortable! Would it help if Alastor leans on Sir Pentious again? Because he’s gonna.

Alastor mulls on this and on whether he should mention the misgivings he has about Meredith and people connected to her, when his thoughts immediately flip over to a different station. “You studied in *Paris?* I had no idea! Do you speak French?”

Sir Pentious

It does help. Those idle radio sounds and clicks are enjoyable to listen to so close.

OH! He *beams*, and gestures with a hand, "MAIS BIEN SÛR!" Sir Pentious slips his hood over his shoulder, preening in the attention, "IT WAS AT MY MOTHER'SSSS SSSUGGESTION, ANYWAY. PARISSS HAD MORE OPPORTUNITIES THAN LONDON, AND WHILE I COULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE, I RATHER WANTED TO GO TO FRANCE." He giggles, "NOTHING MATTERED IN PARIS, EVERYONE WASN'T SSSO *UPTIGHT.* I DARESAY THE THINGSS I LEARNED *THEN* SURELY SHAPED THE KIND OF PERSON I BECAME IN THE LATTER HALF OF MY LIFE."

Alastor

“*J’arrive pas y croire!* You’ve been holding out on me!” Alastor laughs. “Your French sounds so *European.* I should have expected that.” Alastor’s French is... very not European. Not because he has a bad French accent, but because he has an extremely good Cajun accent.

“Oh, *hah!* You and me both, then! Paris, France: the perfect place for young men to find themselves and discover who they’re going to be the rest of their lives!”

Sir Pentious

This topic is much more comfortable to Sir Pentious and he looks full of life once more! No awkward movements or rubbing his neck at all.

"HA! YOUR *ACCENT!* DO IT AGAIN. SSSAY SOMETHING ELSE! IN FACT, HAVE YOU *BEEN* TO PARIS, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

“What, what do you want me to—I’ll sing something. *Le seul homme j’aimais il m’a quitté moi toute seule, pour s’en aller avec une autre que moi—*” There’s accordion and guitar in the background. It’s a very raucous song. Alastor won’t subject Sir Pentious to more than that. “Your turn. And sure, I visited Paris during the war! Learned to summon demons there! It was pretty good for both of our educations, wasn’t it?”

Sir Pentious

"VOUS INVOQUEZ DES DÉMONS À PARIS? HAAAAAAA HA HAAAAAAA!" He's clapping his hands together, laughing, "VOUS SSSSSAVEZ, CELA SSSEMBLE TOUT À FAIT HABITUEL À PARIS! JE PARIE QUE PERSONNEL NE L'A REMARQUÉ!!!!"

OH no, he's laughing so much, this is the best news he's heard. Plus, Alastor's accent is *awful*, but in the most endearing way.

Alastor

Alastor’s cracking up. “You sound like you’re reading from a textbook!” He flings an arm around his shoulders and leans on him more heavily. “*Non, non, pas à Paris.* I *learned* there, but I didn’t *do* it there. My first attempt was out in the trenches. I think I told you about that, didn’t I!—unleashing an imp in the middle of a battlefield?”

Sir Pentious

WHEEEEZE--

"OH, *OH*, I *THINK* YOU DID... ACTUALLY, CURIOUSSSS, I DON'T RECALL HOW THAT *ENDED*!"

Purrrrrr, he's going to take another swig of brandy before offering the bottle to Alastor. This is one happy hell serpent.

Alastor

“Neither do I! I was running a hell of a fever at the time! Or maybe the summoning made me delirious, I’ve never found out which it was. Anyway, I regained lucidity some days later in a medical tent, to get told all about how everything descended into anarchy and half of my surviving unit was in medical with me. Ha! Really exciting stuff!”

And deeply traumatic! He’ll accept that brandy, thank you. Sip! “There was no mention of an imp—so I don’t know if *they* caused all that chaos on my behalf, or if they were just unlucky enough to get summoned by a half-mad rookie occultist just in time to get gassed with the rest of us.”

Sir Pentious

"HMMMM... GASSED. OH! THE MUSTARD GAS? I WAS DEAD LONG BEFORE THAT GREAT WAR, BUT ONE DOES HEAR THINGS, EH!" He squeezes Alastor's shoulder.... Comforting? It was a long time ago, but talking about such things probably warranted some comfort.

"NASSSTY SSSSTUFF, THAT. PERHAPS I SHOULD ADD IT TO MY REPETOIRE!!" He winks. It's a very obvious wink, like the kind one might see in a movie to tell *I am Joking*.

Alastor

Oh! Is he being reassured? He doesn’t need it (he doesn’t think he needs it) but under the circumstances wow does that feel nice. Gonna lean more into that touch. Like a sunflower twisting toward the sun, he is. “Mustard, ketchup, sauerkraut—the works! I don’t remember that part, if I was even there for it—fever, see—so all I can do is assume. It was *probably* mustard gas, unless it was something more demonic.”

Alastor huffs. “In all seriousness, it would certainly be effective! The stuff’s bad enough it was banned after the Great War! The concept of war crimes has always been... *amazing* to me—how bad does an activity have to be before it’s made illegal to perform during the worst activity a group of humans can participate in?” He winks at Sir Pentious, “Anyway, *I* don’t mind a war crime or two, as long as I’m not on the receiving end.” Alastor thinks this is a normal supportive friend thing to say.

Sir Pentious

It is a very supportive friend thing to say!! If your friend is Sir Pentious. He is grinning headboob to headboob!!!

"HA!!! THEN WITH YOUR, AHEM, *BLESSING.* I'D GIVE YOU SSSOME WARNING AHEAD OF TIME BEFORE *PAINTING THE TOWN YELLOW.* NYA HA HAAAAAAA!" He is so very loud.

Another gulp of brandy, and his head sways a little. Buuuuuzzed.

"YOU SHOULD TEACH ME SSSOME OF YOUR BASSSTARD FRENCH. CA... CAGING?? CAGING FRENCH. THAT ONE. AND I'LL TEACH YOU *TEXTBOOK FRENCH.*"

Alastor

“When you’re ready to launch an attack that massive, I’d hope to be on board to watch with you!” ... Is that over the line? He can’t just invite himself along on one of Sir Pentious’s raids. He could have with the one he used to know, but, here...

Don’t overthink it. He’s gonna sip a little more of his drink. “Bastard French *indeed.* Cajun is a perfectly pristine, utterly respectable French. Just not the kind of French they teach in France to *English* students. And I already speak textbook French, thank you!” He puts on a robotic-sounding accent, like a student reciting pre-memorized foreign language phrases. “‘*Bonjour, monsieur ! Excusez-moi ! Je m’apelle Pierre-Paul-Jacques. Comment allez-vous ?*’ Hah!”

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious *cackles* madly, SLAPPING Alastor on the back. TEARS man, TEARS! He clears his throat, then lifts his hands up, imitating Alastor's ears.

"HELLO, *MON CHERE*! SSSSALUT, SSSSALUT!! PASSSS *LE GUMBO!*" He grins playfully!

Could be vaguely offensive, but you know. Hell.

Alastor

He simultaneously tries not to grimace and tries not to smile harder. "Your accent is abominable, couyon."

Sir Pentious

HEE HEE HEE. *HEE HEE HEE!* Sir Pentious looks so pleased with himself.

Alastor

SHOVE. But it's a light shove. Friendly shove.

He immediately closes the distance again. "In France, when we had to deal with the locals, they usually asked me since I was already fluent—in a manner of speaking. Wanna know all the words that got me weird looks in Paris??"

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious looks to Alastor, leaning on his hands and *purring* in that horrific way of his, his hood lifting to drape itself upon the other's head. Flompf.

"YESSS, MY *MAN.* TELL ME, TELL ME!"

Alastor

“Very well! One time I got five men to stop and stare at me when I proposed hosting a *fais do-do,* we should start there!”

And so for the next he-can’t-even-keep-track-of-how-long, he pulls out as many obscure and local terms as he can think of—until they drift off on a trail of other topics. The only way Alastor is keeping track of the fact that time’s passing at all is by his gradually emptying glass and the dwindling quantity of food. He can’t remember the last time he had this much fun.

Sir Pentious

Alas, all fun times must come to an end! Sir Pentious finally has hit his limit for social interaction....he puts a hand to Alastor's shoulder, his body swaying some as he begins to uncoil himself.

"WELL, ALASSSTOR... I BETTER BE GETTING BACK TO MY SHIP. I HAD A *GOOD* TIME WITH YOU! NEXT TIME, I'LL BE SSSOBER ENOUGH TO GET THOSE MEASUREMENTSSSSS."

Alastor

Alastor tries his best to steady Sir Pentious. Which is a bit of a challenge, considering that Alastor is drunk and Sir Pentious is a slinky that’s twice as drunk and twice as tall. “So did I!” Alastor squeezes the elbow he’s been helping support.

He really did have a good time. For the first time since he met this Sir Pentious, he didn’t feel like he had to be on his best damn behavior, careful of every single word and action, triple checking every sentence’s implications to ensure he was neither about to accidentally trod on Sir Pentious’s brittle ego nor about to get unacceptably affectionate... This was how it was supposed to be. They’d finally gotten everything right.

“You could have gotten those measurements *before* you got drunk, you know.” He winks. “But if you want another excuse to butt around with me, I’m not going to complain.”

Sir Pentious

He purrs and pretends to look offended, "WHAT! NOOO, I COULD NOT HAVE-- I DID NOT BRING MY MEASURING EQUIPMENT." Which he totally has. He giggles drunkenly, starting to slither toward the door, blinking hard to make sure he wasn't bumping into anything. He was, but whatever.

"BUTT AROUND WE SHALL, ALASSSTOR!"

Alastor

Maybe Alastor oughta help Sir Pentious with the door. He’s just gotta get to the door before Sir Pentious does. He’s halfway through climbing over the bed to try to reach the door first when he *remembers* something, loses his balance, nearly face plants, somehow manages to keep his feet and stumbles forward to pose himself with his elbow propped against the wall like he totally meant to do that. “Before you go! I’ve got something to say.”

Sir Pentious

~~Alastor I'd die for you.~~ Penny blinks, his head swiveling a little in place as he looks to that very elegant pose from Alastor. Tongue flicks. "HMM??? WHAT ISS IT?"

Alastor

“I...! Ahh.” Now he’s actually got to *say* it. That’s embarrassing as hell.

But what would be more embarrassing would be *looking* like he’s embarrassed, so he rallies himself and says, “When you came over, you were expecting to get drunk and wrestle a buck, not necessarily in that order! You *weren’t* expecting an unplanned therapy session wherein I drag up a good fifty-odd years of... concerns, about the environmental effects of Hell. But you took it gamely and responded in kind, and I... well... Thank you.”

Sir Pentious

His eyes are doing a weird thing, but it's mostly because he's trying to keep Alastor in his focus. Sir Pentious strokes his chin a little, and he waves a hand, "IT WASSSSN'T THERAPY, ALASSSSTOR. I WAS LISTENING TO YOU HAVE A TALK ABOUT YOUR *FEELINGSSSS.* AFTER ALL, YOU'VE HEARD ME PRATTLE ON ABOUT THINGSSSS BEFORE, WHAT KIND OF *SIR* WOULD I BE IF I DIDN'T LISTEN IN KIND???" What a development. He reaches over to pull Alastor into a very drunken hug, "ANYWAY, YOU ARE WELCOME, MY DEAR CHUM! THANKSSSSS FOR PREPARING EVERYTHING ON SSSSSUCH SHORT NOTICE! I HAD A VERY GOOD TIME."

Alastor

He melts into the hug. It’s so *nice.* “So did I. The best time in years.” He pulls back, grinning a *real* grin, and looks Sir Pentious over. “Do you need help getting home?”

Sir Pentious

Hmmm... Does he? All his eyes are blinking at different times.

".... YOU KNOW, PERHAPSSSSS I DO. THE SSSTAIRSS ARE NOT SSSOMETHING I AM LOOKING TO NAVIGATE."

Alastor

“Come on!” He slings an arm around Sir Pentious’s back to help keep him steady. “I think I can do something about those stairs.”

(The “something” is temporarily turn them into a slide. This definitely won’t end badly and he won’t regret it at all.)

Sir Pentious

Prr prr prr... He's going to head out into the hallway with Alastor in toe... Yes, surely. This won't end badly. Like forgetting that he changed the stairs into a slide later.

Alastor

Surely not.

And out they go, headed home.

[ddaenggtan]

are you gonna do anything for kookie's birthday?? i know a lot of writers are and i was hoping you might be one of them :)

I don’t have anything, tbh, because I’ve been mostly working on my fic for the Love Yourself Collab (which you should def check out bc I know at least one or two have posted theirs and I’m so hype to read them!!) and the sequel to mechanic!joon from the poll a while back. 

I will give you this crumb though, for everyone who read Chasing Butterflies and thoroughly enjoyed it the way I did. 

“I just don’t get it,” Nayun says as she straps her pads on. Jisoo doesn’t react and Rose looks like she might actually kick your asses if you aren’t on the court in ten seconds. “What do you not get? Like what about this situation is confusing?” You ask. “I’m whipped for Jungkook, we been knew, and he’s apparently through some great act of mercy also whipped for me, and he’s bringing every single one of his nerd friends to the match today. Which isn’t at all nerve-wracking. Whatsoever.”

Jisoo rolls her eyes and tugs harder at your laces. She always does your laces, she’s the only one with the upper body strength to tie the things well. You think she might actually be moonlighting as a secret BDSM dominatrix just based on the way she handles them. 

“No, I don’t get why you’re nervous. He’s seen you play before, didn’t he tell you that he tries to come to as many home games as possible? And his friends know nothing about the sport, they won’t know if you fuck it up.”

“Which you won’t,” Rose says from the door. "Because you’re good at this.”

“And because you’ll kill me if I fuck it up.” She doesn’t respond verbally, but the look she sends you radiates ‘yeah and what about it’ energy. “Look, I’m just...scared of disappointing his friends. He talks me up all the time apparently, and if they get bored or are unimpressed then...”

“What, you think he’s gonna break up with you?” Jisoo’s tone is teasing, but when she looks up to see the insecuirty on your face, she softens. “You put on a cosplay for him, and he’s liked you for almost as long as you’ve liked him. I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”  

You just nod, tugging at the laces as she finishes tying them. Realistically, you know she’s right. It’s been a couple months since that night in your apartment, and things have only gotten better. He still comes to the coffee-shop to hang out with his dweeb friends, even if he does spend the time waiting for them talking to you now. He still watches his dumbass anime, thoroughly enjoying your flat-screen to do so, even if he gets consistently distracted by the way you lay in his lap. You talk about your practices that he knows a fair bit about because of some anime, he tells you about his nerd shit that you don’t understand but enjoy hearing about anyway, you help him with his essays and he helps you with Organic Chem, and you even buy him little cupcakes every time he gets a new comment on his fanfic. Things between you are good.

You have no reason to worry, you decide as you push out of the locker rooms and head to the court to get warmups started. You spot him, sitting with his group of friends beside where Jimin and Taehyung sit with the rest of the guys’ team to watch your game. Your boyfriend - your whole chest gets warms as you think it, and you let yourself bask in it for a minute because it took three fucking years to get - looks adorable today; big, round glasses, with that soft beanie and a softer looking shirt. It’s got some kind of weird pumpkin(?) on it, with a point and sharp teeth and the back has a scythe and you vaguely recognize it. You’re pretty sure he watched it at your apartment a few days ago, but you also had his dick in your mouth, so you weren’t paying much attention to anything else. 

You wave back when he waves at you, big and excited and cute, and you’re once again hit with the urge to cover him in kisses while also maybe dangling him off a fifty-story building. His nose scrunches in that way you love and you ignore the way it has your stomach flipping. 

Rose pelts a ball at you and you catch it on sheer instinct. 

“Are you actually going to warm up or are you gonna be entirely useless today?” She asks. You glare at her and throw the ball back in response. If you didn’t have firsthand experience with how good she is, you’d wish she was your opponent so you could wipe the smirk off her face. 

Warmups go well. The team you’re supposed to be playing is good, supposedly pretty well-matched to your own, and you’re excited to see if it holds true. They don’t look especially intimidating. The biggest threat seems to be their captain - which is true for your team as well, Rose is terrifying - and there are a couple girls milling around in jackets and over-shirts. One in particular catches your notice; as you look, you realize it’s because Jungkook has the same jacket. Black, with a big-ass Old-English-styled L on the back of it, and some kind of writing you can’t see on the front and can’t remember from Jungkook’s, small and in the corner where logos usually go. 

You make a note to ask which anime that’s from, just to know in the future, and return to your warmups. 

The game itself is...well, it’s challenging. The other teams is as well-practiced as yours, they’re balanced against you pretty well, and all of you are enjoying the competition almost as much as you’re frustrated that you aren’t getting anywhere. Their captain - a shorter girl with pretty eyes and dimples - is an absolute beast and Rose looks simultaneously enraged and turned on, and Weeb Girl has been blocking you at every turn. She volleys every serve you give, manages to block every spike without fail, and you can respect that she’s good at this, but you’re also really fucking frustrated. 

It’s the end of the second set and both teams are ready for the ten minute break. You’re in the process of trying to drown yourself in your Gatorade bottle and really considering using the stuff to summon some kind of demon just so you can win the game, go home, stuff yourself with cheap burgers, and then fuck your boyfriend because you could tell from his face at one point that he was getting worked up watching you play, but before you can you catch sight of your friends whispering quietly to themselves. 

It screams ‘hey we’re doing something really shady and don’t want you to know, maybe you should immediately storm over and find out what’s going on’ so you do exactly that. 

“What the fuck do you mean ‘should we tell her?’“ You demand, keeping your voice as hushed as theirs. Nayun looks repentant and sorry, Jisoo actually literally makes the emoji face with the teeth, and Rose just purses her lips and gestures over her shoulder. 

You really don’t know what you expect to see, but Jungkook hanging over the side of the bleachers to talk to Weeb Girl isn’t it. His eyes are crinkled at the corners like they do when he’s excited, his glasses are half-down his nose and in danger of falling off because you aren’t there to push them back up like he enjoys, and he’s gesturing happily to Weeb Girl. And she....she looks just as excited, twirling a piece of hair between her fingers and batting her lashes up at him as she says something else that makes him laugh. You can’t realistically hear it, it’s too crowded and noisy, but you feel it when he laughs, every time. 

“We should call the police, she’s gonna kill her,” Jisoo says morbidly from behind you. 

“No,” You respond, scoffing. Your eyes don’t draw away from where your boyfriend is talking to Weeb Girl. “No, I’m not. She can flirt all she wants, it’s fine. Yeah, she’s blocked me at every turn this game, yeah she’s kinda really pretty, and she definitely has the ass for those shorts, and she’s wearing weeb stuff that she’s probably interested in and can talk to him about, but it’s fine. I know Jungkook, he’s not gonna do anything. He’s a good guy.” And you mean it when you say it. If there’s one thing that you’re sure of in your relationship that isn’t Jungkook knowing random weeb stats, it’s that he’s loyal. You know it, deep in your bones. 

You watch as Weeb Girl steps forward, cutting off whatever Jungkook’s saying to push his glasses up his nose, giggling as she does. Your fingers twitch because yes, that is your job, not hers, but it’s fine. It’s absolutely fine. Until her captain calls her back and she giggles again and waves, and Jungkook turns to sit and you see it. He’s got that pretty blush on his face, the one that tints his cheeks and makes him duck his head, the one you love so much but especially when you’re riding him and can get him to break out of the dominant persona he loves and turn pink with your words. 

And you know that your boyfriend is loyal and sweet and wonderful, can tell by the way he searches for you and melts into a smile like the ice cream you’re pretty sure you forgot to put back in your freezer before you had to rush out to get to this game. But pushing his glasses up is your job and that is your blush and you aren’t about to let some weeb queen take it from you. 

Rose looks pleased as you all take the court again. Jisoo looks convinced you’re gonna kill Weeb Girl, and you won’t lie; you’re definitely trying to see if you can will someone to set fire with only the power of your brain as you stare her down across the net. She looks entirely too pleased with herself and even dares to send a quick glance and a shy smile off at where you know Jungkook sits behind you, and you wish - not for the first time in your life - that you had Harry Potter powers and could just Crucio this fucker right now. 

Alas, you’re gonna have to settle for slamming a volleyball into her face. 

Nayun looks horrified at the sight, but you can tell Rose is holding back a smile even as the ref gives you a penalty that you willingly take. Weeb Girl looks pissed and also a little confused. Logically it’s not her fault that she chose to flirt with your weeb; and you can’t even fault her for it, because he’s gorgeous and sweet and perfect, but god damn what a day to do it. 

Throughout the rest of the third set, you’re basically unstoppable. You score three times on her, and you take a sick pleasure in the bruise that’s already forming under her eye. Her entire team looks confused, and you are too, because none of you are sure of where this sudden burst of skill and fury is coming from, but you’re determined to ride it out for as long as it lasts. 

When the game’s over, your entire team crowds you to celebrate. You’re a good player, you don’t have any allusions to that, but you’re also pretty much just reliably good. You’ve never played like that, not in your entire life, and you’re thriving with the knowledge that you even can. 

When they finally back up, you bolt before they can throw Gatorade on you, already climbing the stands. Jimin laughs as you shove him to the side, and you decide to feel guilty about the way he almost falls later, because right now you’re on a mission. You straddle the stand and fist one hand in Jungkook’s shirt, pulling him into a heated kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to return. In seconds you’re almost on his lap, one of his hands gripping your jaw so he lick into your mouth the way he likes while your free hand tangles in his hair. When you eventually pull back, he settles soft kisses along your jaw and you take great pride in looking straight at Weeb Girl. She doesn’t look mad, exactly; more resigned and slightly impressed, and you send her a wink that makes her roll her eyes. 

“Hey,” You whisper to Jungkook. He detaches himself from the mark he was determined to make behind your ear, and you revel in the blush on his face. It spreads across his face and along to the tips of his ears, and you want nothing more to than to make is spread further. “You wanna go put on some Haikyuu and break in your new mattress?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever left a game that fast in your life. 

[justaghostingon]

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 4: To The Shore

Kodya’s class takes a fieldtrip, and it goes about as well as can be expected when you let three curious mermaids loose in a general store.

Read on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/62957779

Or below the cut

As the weeks rolled by, a pattern began to emerge. Kodya would wake up early and go out fishing, just like before. Only now three bright-colored heads would rise from the water to greet him as soon as he cut the engine, the Kid at the forefront with some small gift to appease Kodya. He would still set out the nets, like always. But now a mermaid or two would be there to try and help. Occasionally one, usually Red, would get stuck and need to be cut out. Kodya would still eat his lunches out on the water like always, but now those lunches would be shared by three mermaids chattering and snacking themselves. Even Fluffy would mime out an opinion or two. Then after lunch, Kodya would start teaching.

Gyrus was, by far, the best student Kodya had ever seen. It took him almost no time to learn basic math, and soon he was calculating faster and with greater accuracy than Kodya himself could. Kodya had once tried to explain how budgeting worked to illustrate why his nets were so important, and by that evening Gyrus had completely reorganized his budget to the point where he was saving more money than he’d thought was possible. In all honesty, Kodya was pretty sure Gyrus was some kind of super genius, and found he was rapidly running out of things to teach him.

If he’d only known the Kid, Kodya is pretty sure that he would have chalked up Gyrus’ super-intelligence to just a siren thing. But alas, it appeared that great age did not translate to skill with numbers, as both Fluffy and Red were leagues behind. Not that they were terrible, Kodya begrudgingly noted that if they had been to elementary school together they both have had higher grades than he did. But they needed a slower pace, and often Kodya found he had to slow down the lesson to accommodate them.

If teaching them all math had been their only goal, Kodya would have tried giving Fluffy and Red more class hours while sending the Kid off to do homework or something. But neither Fluffy or Red showed any particular interest in putting extra work into improving their own skills. They’d put up a show to support Gyrus of course, but Fluffy’s constant fidgeting and Red’s frustrated growls made it very clear they did not really want to be there. This in turn made Gyrus get distracted trying to explain and keep them interested, meaning he didn’t advance either. Eventually Kodya just got tired of it and told them to go out and help fish every other afternoon, while he focused on more advanced material with Gyrus.

This they happily accepted, only attending class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and leaving  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to the Kid and Kodya. Kodya would never admit it, but these days were his favorite. He’d stay out way longer than he usually did, just to keep whatever conversation the Kid inevitably dragged him into going. He hadn’t enjoyed another person’s company this much since he’d met Nephthys.

Nephthys noticed the change in behavior, commenting about how mopey he got while away from the sea, and giggling that he might have gotten a boyfriend he didn’t tell her about. Kodya was quick to deny this, but more than willing to talk about whatever trouble Red, Fluffy, and the Kid got into, under the pretense of being pesky dolphins of course. Such stories would appease her curiosity, and she rarely went beyond light teasing as she watched Kodya inevitably perk up as the weekend drew to a close and Monday neared.

It was on one such Monday that Kodya finally worked up the courage to ask Gyrus a question that had been weighing on him for a while.

“So how old are you anyways?” Kodya said, eyes on the white board as he wrote out a few problems he’d created based off of his and Nephthys’s shopping lists and an old book about store finance.

“Probably around your age,” Gyrus shrugged, to absorbed in his work on the problems to notice the way Kodya had shut the book to look at him sharply.

“And how old do you think I am?” Kodya pressed.

“I don’t know, 200s right?” Gyrus glanced up at him, and finally seemed to realize something was wrong. “Are you older?” He offered, looking embarrassed, and not at all like a being who was most certainly not a kid.

“I’m 24,” Kodya stated, voice flat. Now what am I going to call you? He mentally despaired.

“24?” Gyrus’ mouth fell open. “But you can’t be! You’re clearly an adult!”

“Of course I’m an adult!” Kodya crossed his arms, “I’ve been an adult for six years!”

“18?” Gyrus’ tail twitched in agitation. “Humans reach maturity so young? How long do you live?”

Kodya shifted uncomfortably at his tone, feeling slightly offended. He wasn’t the weird one here. “We live to be around 80? Some a bit less and some a bit longer, you know, a normal amount.”

“That’s so short,” Gyrus shook his head. “I can’t even…how can you stand it?”

“Hey!” Kodya scowled down at Gyrus, “Most creatures live way shorter life spans, so I’d say you living so long is the weird one here. We do just fine with 80 years thanks.”

Gyrus placed his head in his hands. “Every time I think I’m beginning to understand humans, I find out there’s so much more I don’t know.” He looked very small then, and forlorn. Kodya felt his anger dissipate.

“Look, Kid,” he said, drawing the last word on his tongue to see if Gyrus would notice and protest. He didn’t, and so Kodya plowed on. “You’re doing fine. You’ve learned everything I taught you way quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Not everything,” Gyrus sighed as he picked up his whiteboard. “I can do the calculations, sure, but I don’t really get all the words. Like this one,” he pointed to a problem, “35 cents for bananas. What are bananas? I know they must be food from how you talk about them, but I have no idea what they look like. And this!” He jabbed a finger at one of the words, “Bug spray! How do you get something as small as a bug to spray anything?”

“Slow down Kid,” Kodya interrupted and Gyrus deflated at the sound of his voice. “I can bring you a banana and bug spray if you want.”

“But even if you did, there would inevitably be something else I can’t picture or misunderstand. I just wish,” he sighed again, pulling his emerald tail close around his body. “I just wish I could see it all for myself.”

His lower lip started to tremble, and Kodya felt his heart clench at the sight. “Maybe you could,” he said, and then instantly wanted to hit himself for promising something so impossible. But Gyrus was looking at him with wide, watery eyes like Kodya just promised him the moon, and Kodya couldn’t bring himself to deny him anything.

----------------

The old shed opened with the loud grating noise of rusted hinges. Kodya winced slightly at the sound, before pushing forward into the crowded space before him. Nephthys had said the inflatable kiddie pool was just in here the last time she’d seen it. But that had been nearly seven years ago, back when she’d tried to teach him how to swim in exchange for teaching her written English. Those lessons had not lasted very long, in part because Kodya was much less gracious as a student than as a teacher, and in part because the drowning incident had still been fresh in his mind.

He shoved aside The fishing rod he’d gotten for his Mom at fifteen, still as clean and unused as the day he’d bought it, and some of her old Navy Seal camping gear. Where was it? It should be with the practical stuff…

Something bright and pink caught his eye, the faded plastic tucked quietly in a corner behind some old storage bins. Kodya waded over towards it and gave it a gentle tug, pulling out of another box labeled POOL in his mother’s loopy handwriting. He pulled the cumbersome plastic out, and stopped.

There was something else in the bin, soft against his hands. Weird. He couldn’t think of anything pool related that was soft, and his mother was usually so organized. He looked down to see a strange fur wrap below. It was plain brown, with faded spots making a star pattern along it. One edge was jagged and sharp, with bits of leather skin poking out below it. Kodya ran a finger down the edge, and wondered if someone had taken a blunt knife to it.

The plastic of the pool rustled against the boxes as Kodya shifted, drawing his attention back towards it. He shut the pool box with a snap. Whatever it was, it didn’t concern him. His mother could sort it out on her own time. He had a mermaid’s day to make.

---------

“I’m back!” Kodya called as two brightly colored heads appeared in the water. “And you’ll never believe what I brought for you today!”

Gyrus beamed at him, and Kodya took a minute to examine that lovely smile and enjoy how it was all for him. “We’ve got something to show you too!” the Kid exclaimed, “Do you want to see it?”

“Sure Kid,” Kodya allowed himself a slight twitch of his lips, wondering what seaglass or shells Gyrus had brought for him today. “But I’ll bet mine’s better.”

Red and the Kid exchanged glances, before Red sighed. “Just so we are clear,” she said, “I do not fully approve of this idea.” So saying, she dove into the water, and in her place rose a single white corner, then another and another, until there was a great white box with a handle sticking out the side.

Kodya blinked. “What is that supposed to be?” He asked, squinting at the sides. Something about the faded pink stickers looked familiar. Was that ice cream?

“It’s a box with wheels!” Gyrus proclaimed, gesturing to the suspiciously familiar object. Kodya raised an eyebrow, and the Kid blushed. “Lift it higher!” Gyrus hissed, and the white box raised above the water, allowing for both the wheels and Fluffy’s head to come into view.

“See?” Gyrus’ purple orbs practically glowed. Beside him Fluffy beamed and even Red looked a bit smug.

“I see,” said Kodya, feeling somewhat baffled. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“That’s the best part!” the Kid’s green tail surfaced to slash the top of the water excitedly. It went straight into Tori’s face and she sputtered, causing one end to dip back into the water. “This box holds water! Without it coming out! If you put me in this I could come with you to shore!”

Well that diminished Kodya’s surprise a bit. He felt a bit hurt. He’d put a lot of thought into his kiddie pool. But he shook it off in favor of squinting at the white cart. It was looking more and more familiar the more he stared.

“Is that,-” he frowned, “- Oli’s ice cream cart?!” Oli’s ice cream was a staple on the beach in the summer months, and he’d recently upgraded to owning a portable cart that he employed Anan to push around and increase business. But Anan had lost it under what he claimed was a sudden storm. Kodya narrowed his eyes. “Did you hypnotize Anan into giving that up?”

“We didn’t hypnotize anyone,” Red sniffed. “This was a gift.”

“We just asked, and he handed it right over!” Gyrus added. “He didn’t even stop to question why we were all in the water!”

Fluffy batted her eyelashes and then threw Kodya a wink, and Kodya had the sneaking suspicion that they had used a different method of coercion instead. But hey, he shrugged. Oli hadn’t held that much of a grudge, and it was high time Anan learned a lesson about not giving in to the whims of every pretty girl that smiled at him.

“So what was it you brought for us?” Gyrus asked innocently, and all three mermaids' attention snapped to him.

“Oh,” Kodya rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kinda brought something similar, only bigger, and with no wheels.”

“Really?” Gyrus beamed. “That’s great! Now we can all go on land!” All? Kodya opened his mouth to protest. He could hide maybe one mermaid, but three?

“That would set some of my fears to rest,” Red said, sounding appeased. “I did not want to leave Gyrus to wander this strange world without protection.”

Fluffy began bobbing up and down in the water, splashing wildly with the ice cream cart to show her enthusiasm.

I’m not getting out of this, Kodya realized with a sinking dread as all three mermaids celebrated around him. I need a plan.

--------------

The plan was simple. Really. Early in the morning, Kodya would meet the three mermaids at the docks. There was a rainstorm scheduled for Thursday, perfect for both providing cover and keeping the mermaids wet. Kodya would load the three of them into the back of his truck, where they would climb into the kiddy pool. Then Kodya would drive really slowly into town, pull out the white cart, now covered in a blanket to pass as a wheelchair, and wheel each mermaid through the store. Simple.

The first part went off without a hitch. It was indeed raining on Thursday morning, the icky, thick, constant rain that made it very uncomfortable to be outside for long periods of time. When Kodya arrived on the dock, he found it deserted. Perfect.

“Guys?” he hissed as he scanned the dark waves. “It’s time.” Three multicolored heads rose from below the dock to greet him.

“That took too long,” Red grumbled. “I had half thought ye’d grown cold feet.”

“It took longer to fill the pool than I expected,” Kodya sighed. “Now come on.” He extended his arms towards Fluffy, who was closest.

Red batted his hand away. “I’ll go first,” she snapped. “It is my duty as champion of the queen to ensure the safety of the rest of the pod.” Kodya rolled his eyes, but complied, hauling her surprisingly light body up into the air. Sylvia went next, eagerly wrapping strong arms around his neck as he lifted her up into the truck too.

And then at last, it was Gyrus’ turn. Kodya reached down for him, determined not to react. It was just a simple assist after all. Kodya could feel both warm skin and slick scales as he carefully lifted him into the air. Gyrus’ arms wrapped around Kodya’s neck, pulling close to Kodya’s chest and soaking his already wet shirt further.

Gyrus ran a curious hand through his hair, playing with the hair tie in the back. “You’re hair feels so strange dry,” He murmured, lavender orbs hypnotic. Their faces were inches apart, and Kodya froze. They hadn’t been this close since the day they met, when Gyrus had called him perfect, and the mere memory sent Kodya’s whole face alight. Gyrus gave the slightest of frowns as he ran gentle fingers through Kodya’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

“If ye are quite finished,” Tori’s loud voice broke through Kodya’s haze, “the sooner we start this, the sooner we can get back to the sea.”

Kodya yelped, placing Gyrus hastily in the back of the truck and ducking his head as he hurried to the front. Still bright red, he gripped the back of the wheel and took several deep breaths. He needed to focus damn it. Or this whole trip would end in disaster.

Disaster…the various, horrible ends of this hair brained scheme were enough to bring him back to reality. If he messed up here, the mermaids could end up in an aquarium, or worse, dissected. He took a deep breath and put the truck in drive. By the time he’d reached the store, the image of Gyrus’ face so close to his own was properly suppressed in the back of his mind.

---------

Step two turned out to have its own set of problems. Namely that as soon as he put the truck in park, he found the mermaids arguing in the back about who would go in first.

“It will be I,” Red’s arms were crossed. “It’s my job to keep you safe, there’s no point in arguing.”

“You don’t even want to see the store!” Gyrus scowled. “Nor do you know as much about humans as I do! And besides,” he crossed his arms, “I’ll be with Kodya so there’s no need to protect me!” He glanced to the side. “Right Sylvia?”

Fluffy threw up her hands in a clear signal of, keep me out of this!

“What’s the problem now?” Kodya massaged the space between his brow. Both Red and the Kid turned on him.

“I am going first, and that is final,” Red snapped at the same time Gyrus said,

“It isn’t fair!”

Kodya sighed, considering. On the one hand, letting Red go first would strengthen the fragile trust they had formed. On the other hand, the Kid was far, far too old to be babied like Red wanted, and going first with Red meant introducing her to Alistair. Kodya squared his shoulders. He’d rather avoid whatever fight she’d pick for as long as possible.

“It’s the Kid’s trip, he gets to go first,” he said, and Red scowled while Gyrus lit up.

“Alright!” Gyrus pulled himself to the edge of the truck to avoid the angry Red. “Help me down and let’s get going!”

“Not so fast kid!” Kodya scolded. “I’ve got to get the wheelchair ready first.” He pulled out the ice cream cart and opened the lid, revealing the cold water he’d taken from his hose the night before.

Carefully, he picked Gyrus up again, this time avoiding eye contact, and plopped him inside. Access water flooded over the edge and distracted the Kid while Kodya tried to hide his blush. To distract himself, he fiddled with the lid, wondering how it would close without bothering the top sticking out.

“This is so exciting!” Gyrus turned to Kodya, eyes shining. Kodya’s hands tightened on the lid at the sight, and a crack came from underneath them. Both Gyrus and Kodya looked down at the now unattached lid. Well, Kodya thought. There goes that problem.

The blanket was thrown over the top to hide the water and the faded ice cream stickers, and the makeshift wheelchair was ready to go. There was just one thing missing. “Here.” Kodya pulled out an old shirt and handed it to Gyrus. “Humans can’t go in stores without full clothing,” he explained, trying to make it seem normal and not like he’d spent hours agonizing over which one of his old shirts to give to Gyrus.

“Thank you,” Gyrus murmured, pulling the bright yellow shirt, specifically chosen to match the yellow tips of his tail, over his head. “Yellow is my favorite color.” Kodya shrugged as casually as he could, but tucked that little piece of information away in his brain.

“Time to go,” he said, stepping behind the cart pushing it towards the door.

---------

As Kodya predicted, Gyrus loved the store. He found everything about it fascinating. From the food to the overpriced towels and swimwear for tourists. Kodya thought he would explode when he found the nets Kodya usually bought and recognized them. He wanted to know how everything worked, what it all did, and why Kodya would or wouldn’t buy it. The towels in particular fascinated him, as he had known humans hated to be too wet, but he’d never realized what a big deal it was until he saw all the different patterns and colors. He was quite disappointed when Kodya broke it to him that the colors and patterns were purely decorative, and didn’t hold any significance at all.

Eventually they got down to business. Kodya walked Gyrus through his grocery list, explaining what each item looked like and what it did. Gyrus seemed to have memorized the prices, and was more than eager to read off the numbers and comment on cheaper options available. Kodya would then have to justify his choice, usually because of quality, and explain it to an attentive Gyrus. It was a long process, but Kodya didn’t think he’d ever had this much fun shopping for groceries before.

But as Kodya finished explaining about bananas and how they worked, he noticed Gyrus’ mood had taken a turn for the morose.

“What’s wrong?” Kodya asked, as Gyrus stared glumly down at the bunch of bananas in his hands. “Am I going too fast?”

“No, no,” Gyrus sighed. “It’s stupid.” Kodya crossed his arms, waiting, and Gyrus shifted the bananas into one hand to run the free one through his hair. “It’s not that I’m not grateful you brought me here so I could see everything, it’s just,” he peaked up at Kodya through his starshaped bangs, “there’s so much of it. I’ll never learn it all today, even if we didn’t have to hurry up and give Tori and Sylvia their turn.”

“Who said you had to learn it all today?” Kodya pointed out. “We’ve got the pool and the wheelchair now. We can definitely come back here again.”

“But it won’t always be raining,” Gyrus pointed out. “You might get seen helping us out of the water.”

Kodya waved a hand as he began to push Gyrus forward. “We’ll just have to figure out another way then. You’re smart. You know what the hurdles are, you come up with something.”

Gyrus shot Kodya a small smile. “Thank you Kodya,” he said. “You really are the best person to teach me.” Kodya ducked his head and pushed harder, trying to hide his blush.

“Kodya? Is that you? I thought I recognized you wandering about my store!” Kodya’s head snapped up to see Alistair waving from the counter. Oh no. “But who is this handsome stranger you’ve brought with you?” Alistair practically jumped over the counter to see better. It took all of Kodya’s strength not to grab the cart's controls and wheel them both out the door.

“Careful Alistair!” Kodya shouted as the man stepped closer and began shamelessly feeling up Gyrus’ muscles. “He’s in a wheelchair!” He pushed Alistair away as Gyrus starred with a look of absolute puzzlement on his face.

“Of course, of course!” Alistair said as he stepped back to lean on his counter. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“I’m Gyrus,” Gyrus said, sounding faintly amused. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure! An absolute pleasure! I am Alistair, and this is my humble store!” Alistair gave a sweeping gesture to encompass the whole building. Kodya rolled his eyes at his theatrics.

“Are you really?” Gyrus asked, sounding intrigued. “Where do you get all the items for sale?”

“Trying to find my sources? How shameless,” Alistair raised an eyebrow and Gyrus blushed, sensing he’d done something wrong. Kodya scowled. “But don’t worry!” Alistair laughed. “My sources are all local, like our charming mutual friend, Kodya here!” He pointed to Kodya who crossed his arms.

“I don’t supply you that often,” Kodya grumbled.

“Oh come now Kodya, don’t be modest.” Alistair winked, he leaned over to Gyrus and whispered, “He caught me a great white shark, I still have the teeth if you want to buy them!”

“I know,” Gyrus smiled. “But I don’t need another shark’s tooth.”

“Another?” Alistair drew back in shock, mouth hanging open. He glanced wildly between Gyrus and Kodya. “You don’t mean to tell me our grumpy Kodya snagged a stud like you?”

“We aren’t dating Alistair,” Kodya stepped in before Gyrus had a chance to misunderstand. “I’m just showing him around while he’s in the states.”

“So he’s single?” Alistair said, and Kodya felt his heart stop.

“Kodya’s been really kind to me!” Gyrus piped up, clearly hoping to back up the illusion of being new to the area. “He’s taught me so much about these states!”

“Oh really? And what has he taught you?” Alistair leaned forward into Gyrus’ personal space.

“Lots! I’ve learned about money, and the presidents on the bills, and dinosaurs…” Gyrus began to rattle off all the things he’d recently learned while Alistair took the opportunity to stare shamelessly at his lips.

Kodya rolled his eyes, disgusted, then froze. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he’d seen a blue tail.

-----------

Kodya stalked through the store, following the telltale trail of water down the aisles. He hated to leave the Kid alone with Alistair, but he trusted him to be able to handle himself and keep Alistair distracted while Kodya hunted down their real problem.

Speaking of which, he turned a corner to find one half of the dynamic duo munching happily away on the fish in the deli. “Fluffy!” Kodya hissed, as the pink-haired mermaid turned her wide eyes on him. “What are you doing here? And where’s Red?” He’d seen a blue tail, and unless Fluffy had changed her forest green scales blue and back in the last minute, there was no way she was alone.

Fluffy shrugged, gesturing to the fish in front of her to say, I don’t know, I got distracted by the food.

Kodya cursed, striding forward to grab Fluffy bodily and drag her away with a cry of, “you aren’t supposed to be here!” His motion startled Fluffy, whose tail whipped around and knocked the whole deli over, sending the whole display of fish directly on top of her.

Kodya and Fluffy froze. Panicked blue meeting panicked brown. For a second all was still, until in the silence the clunking sound of heavy boots began to fill the air. Fluffy sprang into action, covering herself with the fish in an attempt to blend in. Kodya helped, figuring that if whoever was coming mistook her tail for another fish they might just by themselves some time.

They had just finished when Knox, an employee of Alistair’s store, rounded the corner. “I heard a loud noise, and have been instructed to look for damages,” he said in that monotone voice of his.

Kodya could have cried with relief. If there was one word that summed Knox up, it was gullible. “Don’t just stand there!” He snapped, putting on his most thunderous expression. “Get the first aid kit!” Knox paused, eyes traveling from Kodya’s face to Sylvia’s fish covered tail, to her big puppy dog eyes about to overflow with tears.

“I will retrieve it,” he said, voice still montone, but there was a quickness in his step that betrayed his concern. As soon he turned the corner Kodya let out a relieved sigh.

Fluffy beamed up at Kodya, clearly ecstatic that it had worked. Kodya frowned back at her. “We still need to get out of here before he gets back,” he pointed out.

Fluffy rolled her eyes with the clear message of, you worry too much. And no Kodya wasn’t having that. He grabbed her arm and tugged it upwards.

“Come on,” he said as Fluffy obligingly circled her arms around his neck so he could lift her up. “We’ve got to find Red and get out of here before he comes back.”

“Before who comes back?” Kodya and Fluffy’s heads snapped to the right to see Tori emerging from the towel section. “And what was that noise?”

“What were you thinking!” Kodya felt his fury return in full force. “You knew you had to wait in the truck!” Fluffy looked down guiltily, but Red crossed her arms.

“I am the Champion of the Queen.” She scowled. “It is my duty to keep Gyrus safe. You were taking too long.”

“Gyrus is perfectly fine!” Kodya hissed, taking a step forward. “But now thanks to you two, I had to leave him alone, and now I have to get you out of here before anyone sees your tails and calls the press!”

Red drew herself up to her full height, which given half of her was a floppy fishtail, wasn’t that impressive. “I am perfectly capable of…” But Fluffy held up a hand to stop her, cocking her ear as if listening. Kodya and Tori followed her example, and Kodya’s heart stopped once again.

Footsteps.

Red dove towards the racks of towels as Kodya looked around wildly for a place to stash Fluffy. Could he throw her back into the fish?

Too soon the footsteps came to a halt. Kodya froze as a very familiar voice said, “Kody?”

Slowly Kodya turned around to see Nephthys standing in the aisle, eyes wide as she took in Red half hidden behind the towels and Fluffy still in Kodya’s arms. “Neph, I can explain,” he started, but she shook her head.

“Alistair is coming!” She said as she pulled out her purse. “Distract him while I fix this!” Kodya wanted to argue he’d be better able to carry both mermaids, wanted to ask why she wasn’t reacting, but the look in her eyes told him not to argue. He wordlessly handed off Fluffy and hurried back to where Alistair and Gyrus were waiting.

“Kodya!” Alistair called out. “What was that all about?”

“You just left,” Gyrus added, a bit reproachfully. “Then we heard a huge crash.”

Kodya waved a hand. “An accident. But don’t worry, Nephthys is taking care of it.” He shot Gyrus a look that he hoped communicated, help me distract him.

Alistair was still frowning, concern clear on his face. “I should still check it out, someone could have been hurt.”

“You really don’t have to,” Kodya said, and Gyrus added,

“Didn’t you say you can’t leave the counter to avoid losing a sale?”

Alistair stroked his beard, looking torn. “This is true, but I really can’t ignore people hurt in my store…” his face split into a sly grin that made Kodya’s stomach drop. “So Gyrus, you’re hired!”

“I’m what?” Gyrus stared in confusion.

“Wait a minute!” Kodya protested. “You can’t just hire Gyrus!” He was a mermaid for one, with a tail and no social security!

“Why not?” Alistair beamed. “He’s got all the qualifications: He has an understanding of basic math, thinks Andrew Jackson isn’t worthy of his position on the twenty dollar bill, and best of all, he’s really cute!” Alistair winked at Kodya and turned to Gyrus, “So what do you say? I’ll pay you an entry level salary, but with your brain and looks you’re likely to get promoted no problem!”

“You’ll pay me?” Gyrus blinked. “In money?”

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, an amused smile on his lips, just as Nephthys rounded the corner with Fluffy on her shoulder and another woman with red hair helping Nephthys support her. “Time to go Kody!”

Kodya wasted no time, grabbing Gyrus’s wheelchair’s handles as Gyrus scrambled for the grocery bags and began wheeling him out after the three women.

“Wait a minute,” Alistair started, “What happened?” But Nephthys waved her free hand behind her.

“Got it handled, take care of the mess and bill me!” She cried as she pushed through the door, a towel wrapped over Fluffy’s tail as she and the familiar looking stranger carried her out. Kodya and Gyrus followed, leaving a confused Alistair behind as they stepped into the open air.

“Where’s Red?” Kodya asked as soon as they got to the safety of the truck. He and the blue-tailed mermaid never saw eye to eye, but he didn’t want to leave her stuck in there.

“I’m right here,” snapped the woman with the red hair, “or have you gone blind?” Kodya blinked, and blinked again, his brain not catching up with his eyes. His gaze traveled down, from her distinctive red hair, to her odd plated shirt, to the towel tied around her waist, and her….

“You have legs!” Gyrus screamed, finger pointing in shock. Kodya blinked again, and yes. That was what his brain was struggling to comprehend. Before them both stood Red, on two legs and looking utterly human.

Tori placed a hand on her hip. “Yes, thanks to the potion the witch gave me.” She gestured to Nephthys with her other hand.

Kodya’s eyes flicked to Nephthys, and she gave him jazz hands with an awkward smile. “Surprise?”

[onetwothreeopalau]

Gem Glow Part 2

“You’ll never guess what’s happened!” Cried Steven, running through the door and up to Opal in total devastation. In his carelessness and grief it slammed shut with a loud bang, but he barely noticed.

She looked thoughtful for a moment as if trying to work out a worst case scenario. "Did an apocalypse come and wipe out almost all life on this earth?”

“No! Worse! Cookie Cats have been discontinued!” 

Opal weirdly enough, didn’t look too saddened by his terrible news. “Are those the biscuits that you like?”

“Opal!” Garnet suddenly called out, “Concentrate!”

Steven, in his grief, hadn't realised upon entering the house that Garnet and Opal had been a little busy before he’d come home. 

Well maybe not a little busy per say. The place was infected by large cockroach like creatures, crawling and spitting everywhere, even up the walls. He watched as one climbed along the couch and attempted to bury itself in a pillow to hide from the annoyed Crystal Gems. Garnet managed to pick it up by it’s wriggly back legs before squishing it between her gauntlets effortlessly.

Steven knew this was the perfect time to try to summon his shield, so he squeezed his eyes shut, and thought shieldy thoughts. He felt nothing except a stomach ache, so he opened his eyes in defeat, only to find one of the bugs right in front of him, one thin leg brushing against Steven’s bare toes and looking like it was getting ready to pounce.

Before it could jump onto him, possibly killing him dead or messing up his T-shirt, one of Opal’s hands reached out and punched it. Her fist only hit its hard back, but she grabbed it and snapped the thing in half.

Steven watched as it poofed into thin air, leaving nothing behind and Opal went to find another to squish, but suddenly she stopped and looked at her hands as if in confusion. Steven was certainly confused.

She looked like she was about to call Garnet but she got distracted by another one coming towards her. She kicked it like a football, and the cockroach landed on it’s back where she simply stepped on it with no hesitation whatsoever.

“I feel like I’m forgetting to tell Garnet something,” she said to Steven, but Steven just shrugged. He didn’t know. She shrugged right back at him and tried to think. “It can’t have been too important then.” She hoped so anyway. She tried to laugh it off and went straight back into the battle of the cockroaches.

Steven continued to attempt to bring out his shield, now watching carefully for the bugs, really not wanting a repeat of what had just happened, but Opal and Garnet made quick work of the rest of them and the room was empty of any cockroaches (huge and monstrous or otherwise) before he managed to create anything even remotely shield like.

He sat on the couch dejectedly, wishing in the moment that he could have a delicious Cookie Cat to make him feel better, but alas the world did not smile upon him. It truly was a rainy day for poor Steven Universe.

“Steven,” said Garnet, interrupting his dramatic thoughts, “Please check the freezer for me. Let’s make sure nothing managed to get inside.”

Steven didn’t know how one of the bugs would have managed to do that but he supposed they’d managed to infest the house, so  it wasn’t uncalled for to check so he obliged and opened the freezer and looked inside.

Only to find it stuffed full of Cookie Cats. He turned around in delight, to find Garnet and Opal, looking at him and smiling. “We heard about your Cookie Cats being cancelled, so we went around all the shops we could find and bought you as many as possible. Enjoy!” said Opal. She looked almost as excited as Steven, although it was mostly due to the happy look on his face.

“I bought them.” Garnet interrupted. “Opal picked them up and left the shop without paying.”

Opal blushed. “I forgot,” she murmured and Steven laughed and hugged her around the legs excitedly. “The whole thing was my idea,” said Garnet, and Steven hugged her too. Opal opened her mouth, but then shut it without saying anything.

Steven looked at the treats and picked one up feeling delighted he would get to enjoy the Cookie Cat deliciousness for just that bit longer.  As he looked at the pure heaven in his hands he began to sing along to the old ad jingle for Cookie Cats. You never forgot your favourite jingle.

Opal and Garnet smiled and laughed along and Steven grinned delightedly before opening the wrapper and taking a bite. He was in bliss. He was in love.

“I like to eat the ears first,” he remarked, but he didn’t get a response from either of the gems. He slowly opened his eyes and noticed they seemed to be staring at him expectantly. Steven was confused but then he looked down.

“My gem!”

Steven looked at the gem glowing again and tried to calm down. He’d already summoned his shield once, he could do it again! By some miracle, he kept calm enough and somehow manifested his shield and this time he didn’t let go of it, keeping it safe in his grip.

He looked at it properly now that it wasn’t flying around and he noticed that as well as being pink, there was a rose pattern on it. It was beautiful. Slowly, the shield dissolved into light and Steven’s gem stopped glowing. Garnet, in her excitement, picked Steven up and swung him around making him feel like he was flying through the air like a bird or a plane.

Opal looked happy too, but there was a touch of something else in her face, a sort of confusion to her happiness. Steven didn’t mind. He was confused too. Maybe she just didn’t realise just how cool he would be when he could fight with the gems.

He was about to ask Garnet more questions (he had at least 52, but maybe he could whittle his list down to the 23 most important.) when Opal slapped her head and groaned. “I forgot to mention.” She sounded sheepish, “Remember those cockroaches? Well I noticed something whilst we were fighting them-”

What it was that she had noticed, Steven wasn’t able to find out, because at that moment a loud, low rumbling noise was heard and from the beach he heard the unpleasant sounds of screams of fear. He, Garnet and Opal rushed to the beach to see Jenny, Lars, Buck and Kiki all cowered behind a rock and one of those cockroaches, but easily twenty times bigger than the ones they’d been fighting before. This one was about the same height as Garnet, if not taller.

Steven almost panicked, but Garnet put a hand on his shoulder, “Steven.” She said, calming his nerves, “Go protect the humans. Lead them away if you can.” She turned to Opal, “You wanted to tell me something.” It wasn’t a question.

”I was going to tell you earlier, but we got distracted. The corrup-“ she glanced at Steven still standing there, “the creatures. They didn’t have gems. So I think there’s a mother gem somewhere.” She trailed off to look at the cockroach they were facing. “Or there.”

Garnet sighed. “You should have told me earlier, but I bare responsibility for not noticing. It doesn’t  matter now. Steven. The humans.”

Steven ran over to the Cool Kids and Kiki who were still all behind the rock looking scared..

“Oh hey Steven.” said Jenny, noticing him, and trying to be friendly despite her fear.  “What is that thing?” She went to gesture towards the cockroach but thought better of letting even her arm leave the relative safety of the rock.

“A giant cockroach.” he replied, “That’s what it looks like anyway. Maybe it has a real name.” He thought about asking the gems but he probably had bigger priorities right this second. “Garnet and Opal asked me to help you guys get to safety, so maybe we should get off the beach whilst they’re fighting it.” He suggested slightly shyly. The cool kids were just so.. cool.

“Sounds good to me.” said Kiki and no one disagreed so they all ran in the opposite direction as fast as possible with Steven following slightly behind, managing to keep up pretty well despite his much shorter legs.

Once they were off the beach, they all took a collective sigh of relief. “You wanna hang with us for a bit, Stevie?” asked Sour Cream. Steven thought about it: he really did want to, but in the end he had to shake his head.

“Maybe another time, I’d really love to, but I should really go help Garnet and Opal. It’s my duty as a Crystal Gem!” The Cool Kids didn’t really understand, but knew what it was like to have to help out family.

Sour Cream smiled, bending down for a high-five, “Nah we get it, duty calls. Have a good day.”

“Have a good day!” said Steven, returning the high-five before running back down to where Garnet and Opal were still fighting the creature. Opal stood a distance away, getting ready to shoot an arrow, and the cockroach took this separation of the gems  to its advantage and went to take Garnet head on. Garnet was easily strong enough to handle it, but Steven still felt scared for her. He wished he could do something to protect them.

He felt his gem glow in his belly, feeling warm and somehow familiar, and all of a sudden he was holding his shield again. This time it felt much more natural in his hands. Like It really was a part of him. He stared at it for a moment, transfixed on the delicate carvings. He knew what he needed to do.

It took surprisingly little effort to fling it at the cockroach like a frisbee. It flew through the air, landing directly in the thing’s stomach before the weapon dissolved into bright light.

It didn’t do much more than knock it back slightly, but it was enough time for Garnet and Opal to use the slight advantage for all that they could. Steven tried to pull out his shield again, but found that he couldn’t. The warm glow was gone.

There was nothing more to do than watch Garnet and Opal make short work of the battle. They thought skillfully and in a weird way it was kind of beautiful to watch.

The cockroach poofed with a light similar to his shield, leaving nothing but a brownish coloured gem, similar to the ones Garnet and Opal had, which Garnet quickly bubbled and sent to the temple.

“You did well today, Steven,” said Garnet when they were back at the house. Steven was exhausted, but the gems still seemed full of energy. “We’re proud of you.”

“I only managed to summon it once though. I tried to summon it again but it didn’t work.” He tried not to feel insecure. He guessed it was pretty cool he could do it at all.

“It’s going to take practice and hard work, but I know you can do it Steven. You’re going to be great.” Garnet somehow had a way of saying things with such confidence it made Steven believe them like that.

“Aww thanks Garnet!” His cheeks turned red at the compliment.

“And don’t worry about Cookie Cats being discontinued. They could always make a return someday.”

The gem was an Enstatite. I thought the colours fit well and I liked the idea of giant bugs crawling over everything for some reason. I’m challenging myself to bring this out of being completely stuck to canon by using different corruptions and creating different solutions to problems. Before editing I wasn’t fully happy with this chapter, but it actually turned out better than I thought it would. Thank you to all that have enjoyed this so far, my next update should be on Friday unless I decide to post earlier out of sheer boredom.

[sunseteyes]

hello welcome to dreamland, @ladymayflo~ thank you for participating in the matchup exchange with this matchmaker! i have already processed your information and alas, i am matching you up with...

OCHACO URARAKA - yuuei hero course student. female. brown hair and eyes

as for uraraka, i didn’t thought about her at first but when i remembered that she’s a capricon, that’s when i started to agree with my thoughts that she could indeed be compatible with you, much more than kiri would. 

i did consider bakugou and/or kirishima at first but then as i read more of your descriptions, i got a picture of ochaco and realized that she’d be the perfect one for you! 

the reason why i didn’t pick kirishima was because apparently he’s a libra and virgos and libras are the least compatible, but if i were to ignore that fact and since people can adjust for the person they cares about, then kirishima would also be a choice

on the other hand, i saw that capricorn is the second best conpatible to virgo and remembered that ochaco is a capricon and that’s how i got to realize that she can indeed be compatible to you!

for the appearance, i doubt ochaco would be pretty picky but she’ll like how you carry yourself with your “girly” outfit and plus, i think she’ll even call—babble—you “cute” often. ochaco is observant too so i have an inkling one of your first convos will be about you scar lmao

anyway, one more thing is that she’s slightly shorter than you but not too much of a height difference so i think that’s pretty cute!

personality-wise, at first ochaco will be confused with your duality. although, she’ll just keep it to herself and adjust on her own. she’d want to really get to know you first in her own way.

honestly, i think ochaco will like how you seem very disciplined, organized and even loyal to your family & loved ones.

she wouldn’t be able to see that you’re “selling” yourself but she’ll sense it somehow. she’s perceptive in someway but what’s more is that she’ll tell you that you don’t have to impress her for her to love you.

“you don’t have to... you’re already loveable enough for me, flo.”

she can also try to socialize with you like greet you daily in the mornings, asking you to eat with them during breaks and hangout with her, izuku and iida

and don’t worry about being clumsy because she’ll always be there to help you out! remember that time when she first met izuku and saved him from landing face first? yep she’ll do that every time

no matter how cringey you get, i don’t think she’d mind a thing also

i also think ochaco will be able to see right through you, even if you try to bottle up your feelings and hide it well. although she wouldn’t try to confront you about it. instead, she will only speak up when you yourself approach her about it

but she will make it obvious that she’s open for any kind of conversation and hint it out like a lot of times

ochaco also has a realistic and practical world view so you two have that as a common. she loves listening to your thoughts and opinions, you know?!

she likes chitchatting, hanging out and all that stuff too so don’t be afraid to ask her. anyway, it wouldn’t matter because she herself will do that for you. at the same time, she wouldn’t mind if you back out and will understand if you need space to charge your social battery

and did you just say you are good at giving massages? ochaco will ask you to give her one but she’s kinda shy at first and even the next few times so you may have to be the one to ask her if she wants one

whatever your dream is, she’ll support you and always be there for you!

“if you want for us to talk, i’ll be here if you.” she’ll often say to you. 

and if you decide to hug her one time, just imagine the blush on her face heheh

as for your likes and dislikes, ochaco can see them but not most of the time, but if your expressions are very obvious, she will certainly know it

i doubt ochaco is that much experienced but anything can be learned in a relationship, as long as it goes on two-ways.

with that, ochaco also has her own breakdowns but she might not voice it out openly. if you’re the assertive type, you may read her and also drop hints that you can help her or atleast talk to her

but since she’s a capricorn and knowing her, she’ll make it sound like it’s no big deal, but i think she’ll seek for comfort in physical affection. even just a hug will make her day! and maybe a few words of encouragement

she also might realize that you don’t flirt with her a lot but she’d just know that you don’t know how to—just not that fast though 

like you, ochaco is also flexible when it comes to a relationship, but also “stable” in a way. she’d make herself look strong for you when you need help and if it’s the opposite, her attitude would be the same so as to not worry or bother anyone

last but not the least, if ever you convince her in a deep conversation, she will take it seriously. at first, she’ll seem hesitant because like i said, she would not want others to worry much about her. but if she gets used to these deep conversations or confrontations, she would think it is helpful, really. she would be grateful that you’ll have each other, no matter how hard life is trying to bring the two of you down. 

that’s all for today, darling~ thank you and i hope you’ve had a great date! 

love, rozé

[tabikato]

If you had asked Hue what his thoughts were on Lothering he would give the response that it was very...brown. The further they moved towards the village, the more open the fields were but what surprised him more was that there was a serious lack of green. Sure there was the occasional bushes and some grass, maybe a tree or two, but everything was so...open. Open and not much excitement save for the occasional darkspawn to kill and raider to chase off. Speaking of which...

“I do not see why you did not just do away with them”, Morrigan frowns, crossing her arms as Hue descended the stairs, the raiders from early chased off easily enough. Though it was rather amusing to see a bunch of grown men run in fear from an elf of such short stature, there was no way Hue could know they wouldn’t come back with reinforcements. Especially with the peculiar information the raiders spouted out, something about these two killing the King. As if Alistair had any sense to accomplish that kind of feat, Hue on the other hand, probably not either but he was much more unpredictable to say the least.

“You suppose I should have killed them?”,he questioned, crinkling his nose at the thought, “Driving them off solved the same problem, what’s the point of killing just because you can?” Well, point taken, though she didn’t have to agree with it. Better to be cautious than to be merciful but then again, she wasn’t one of the mighty Gray Wardens here. Speaking of useless Gray Wardens…

“Well, there it is. Lothering. Pretty as a painting.” Alistair extended his arms out, presenting the hodge-podge village with more flair than needed. Hue leaned on the stone banister, looking over the village in a mixture of awe and disappointment. After Ostagar, the village seems a little lackluster in comparison. Houses made of wood and thatching, patchwork fixes to keep the weather at bay. Dirt roads flattened by the consistent to and fro of workers to their daily tasks. The large stone structure was pretty interesting, so large you could fit a few families in it with a high wall and open arch. So many sounds and smells wafted with the breeze, all so unfamiliar that he fought the urge to jump down and begin exploring. And the people, he’d never seen so many gathered about in different clothes and conversations other than Ostagar! Clothes in various shades of brown, gray, and white greeted his eyes from a distance. It wasn’t “pretty” in his mind but it definitely was fascinating.

“Ah. So you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?” Oh no. He had forgotten for a moment that these two, for whatever reason, really, really did not get along. Maybe Alistair would ignore her, act the bigger man and they could continue to the tavern...

“Is my being upset so hard to understand?!”, Or fight back, “Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?!”

“Before or after I stopped laughing?”

“Right. Creepy. Forget I asked.” Ruffles whined and he pet the Mabari behind the ears before turning his attention to the two squabbling hens.

“Are you sure you two aren’t related?” They both gagged, turning away from each other to yell at Hue but he had other plans, “What did you want to talk about, Alistair?”

“His navel, I suspect. He certainly has been contemplating it for long enough.”

“It is a nice navel.”

“Are you honest--what?”, anger rose and fell within seconds, scowling eyes turned from Morrigan to narrow ones at Hue, “No. No, nevermind, I don’t even want to know where that trail of thought is going.” Hue just shrugged, the beginnings of a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Down to your navel it seems.” Okay, Alistair decided to ignore wherever that was going.

“So, I get it. This is the part where we’re shocked to discover how you’ve never had a friend your entire life”, his mocking tone earned a scoff from Morrigan, gaining some satisfaction out of her offended look.

“I can be friendly when I desire to! Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so.”

“Wait...you think friends make you stupid?” Morrigan blinked at the chuckling elf, eyes narrowing.

“I’m beginning to suspect, yes.”

“Anyway...I thought we should talk about where we intend to go, first.” Alistair interrupted, saving them all from yet another looping conversation they were prone to have. The only saving grace of those was that it made the trip seem shorter.

“Got any ideas?”

“This should be good” Ignoring Morrigan’s sneer, Alistair turned to his fellow Gray Warden.

“I think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea. These treaties...have you looked at them?” Hue’s large blinking eyes told him all he needed to know and he sighed, knowing the question about to spill forth, “The treaties, Hue, the ones we got from Flemeth. With these we will be able to ask for assistance, maybe even raise an army.”

“Oh! Those things!”

“There are three main groups we have treaties for: the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi. I also think that Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first.”

“My clan’s already moved north…”, Hue cocked his head, eyes turned to the sky, “but there’s another that’s usually in Brecilian forest. Wait...why are you leaving this up to me?” With a furrow brow, he turned his gaze back to the human. Shouldn’t he be the one making the decisions here?

“Well, I don’t know where we should go! I’ll do whatever you decide!” Alistair’s voice cracked a bit, shoulders tight as he deflected back onto the other. “Arl Eamon is a good man, but I don’t know for sure he’s where we should go. I’m not going to fight about it!” That was...weird. Aside from the moping, which would be normal for such heavy losses, Alistair had been more on edge. He'd assumed the added tension and constant bickering with Morrigan was it but now he had his doubts. Was Alistair...lost?

“O...kay. Well, I am a hunter so...I guess that’s fine?” What more could he say? Aside from some hunts, Hue’s never led anything his whole life and now Alistair was just expecting him to do just that. “Still, I’d like to know what you guys think too. The group should be in agreement. What about you Morrigan?”

“Go after your enemy directly. Find this man, Loghain, and kill him. The rest of this business with the treaties can then be done in safety.” Okay, she has a point, it’s a great point but also just a very bad idea in general. One, they have no idea where Loghain was, second…

“Yeees, he certainly wouldn’t see that coming! And it’s not like he has the advantage of an army and experience and-”

“I was asked for my opinion and gave it! If your wish is to come up with reasons why something cannot be done, we will stand here until the darkspawn are upon us!”

“Guys!” His voice cut through, stopping them both, “Morrigan’s right, we can’t fight about this.”

“But we-”

“And you’re right too, going after Loghain now is too risky. There’s no way he hasn’t buried himself in his den, we’d walk right into a trap. For now, let’s get some food and figure things out as we look around.” A heavy sigh left his lips, both humans looked at least a bit guilty. They were all tired and probably just hungry, some food and rest would clear their heads and then they could make all those important decisions.

“There is a tavern not far from the entrance, come.”

All he had wanted was some damn food, maybe a drink, and be off his feet for a moment. Just to relax next to a fire and pretend for just one moment the world wasn't ending. What he hadn’t wanted was to be pulled into a fight right as they walked in the door. The tavern had been full of patrons, chattering and gossiping in a way that filled the whole room with noise. On the upper part he could hear a lute being strummed to some unfamiliar tune. And the smells! He had been eager to try food cooked in a tavern, it always made him curious when the other elves told him about it after their ventures into the villages. His eyes on the prize he hadn't expected to be stopped by some guards, guards that definitely looked like they wanted trouble.

“By order of Loghain, we are to kill the traitorous Gray Wardens.” Again? So this was Loghain’s doing, huh? Not enough to be a coward and let people die in Ostagar but now he was trying to hunt them down? To do what, eradicate the Gray Wardens? Did he hate them that much? A woman with red hair and a soft voice interrupted, dressed in a robe that he had seen people around the Chantry nearby wear. A “sister” Alistair had called them. Sister to whom he had no idea.

“Please, there is no need for violence here.” Had to give her credit, it was worth a shot but the guards were having none of it. Then they drew their weapons and it was chaos. Drawing his bow, he had to be much more precise in such an enclosed space. One miss and he might hit an innocent, the idea that these so-called “guards” didn’t even care about the people screaming in fear around them just made him angrier. Between the five of them, sister included, they had managed to take care of this mess...non-fatally of course. Wow, he’s on a roll today.

“Tell Loghain we know what he did and we’re coming for him” Teeth bared, his red eyes lit up from the fireplace glow, feral as one of the beasts he hunted. With a tight nod they scrambled, pride turned to fear, tripping over themselves right out the tavern. Well, that takes care of that.

“I apologise for interfering, but I couldn’t just sit by and not help.” Anger melted from his face as he turned to the woman...sister. She was pretty and her hair gave off a warm glow in the firelight, as if the flames themselves coloured the strands. The style cupped her face, a braid on the side, with a few strands falling gently on a pale face. Her eyes, blue and clear, were steadfast, holding his gaze before he realised he had yet answered her.

“I appreciate that.” The accent was different though, was she not from Ferelden? It didn’t sound like Marcher.

“I am glad you found it in your heart to offer those men mercy.” A tilt of her head, smile tight, “Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering. Or I was.”

“I”m Hue.”

“They said you were a Gray Warden. I’m surprised you’re an elf, but elves must want the Blight defeated as much as humans, no?” Her voice held genuine such curiosity, he didn’t have the heart to interrupt her, “I know after what happened, you’ll need all the help you can get. That’s why I’m coming along.” He blinked. Once, twice, letting the words sink in and when they finally hit him, he let out a confused sound.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“The Maker told me to.” Again...what? The Maker told her to follow him? His confusion must have been plain on his face because her confidence suddenly deteriorated, “I-I know that sounds...absolutely insane. But it’s true! I had a dream, a vision!”

“More crazy? I thought we were full up” Alistair whispered, scoffing at the idea. Considering he was the more religious of the three of them, if even he didn’t believe her…

“Look at the people here. They are lost in despair, and this darkness, this chaos will spread! The Maker doesn’t want this.”, her voice shook, so desperate in her plea that he actually started to feel for her, “What you do...what you are meant to do, is the Maker’s work. Let me help!” Aside from the fact that he was very much not Andrastian, he found he couldn't argue with her. She so passionately wanted to help, to stop this Blight and save people and whether it was the will of the Creators or Maker or what have you, he wasn’t going to turn that away.

“Well then, welcome to the party Leliana!” Arms spread wide, he welcomed her with a smile, warm gesture causing a smile on her face. The other two humans seemed to look a bit incredulous that they suddenly had a new...traveling partner.

“Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than Mother thought.” All that followed Morrigan's statement was more laughter as Hue walked over to order food. Finally!

After the meal he set about exploring Lothering, drawing exasperation from Morrigan and curiosity from Leliana when he flitted about like a hummingbird. Both women were assured that yes, this is normal, he does it all the time, please don't question it from a defeated Alistair. There was so much to see, so many sounds and smells and people to talk to. What he hadn’t expected was how many people needed help and despite Morrigan’s complaining he solved a few problems around the village, earning thanks and even some rewards. It was nice to be able to do things and it not turn into a giant mess for once.

Giving the elder some of the extra potions he had stored away, he caught a glint of metal. Curiosity moved his body faster than anyone could utter a word, forced to follow after the elf as he made his way to a large cage just outside the village arch. He heard before he saw; a deep voice reciting something in an unfamiliar language. Inside was a man, a giant of a man! Grayish skin stretched over large muscles and tight features, a strong jaw, sharp brow, and large nose made up his face. Large white braids were fastened tight to his skull, drawing to the back. One of this man's arms was at least equal to both the elf's legs! Red eyes widened in pure awe as Hue took in the giant who stood so still, he almost seemed like a statue. That is until eyes opened up and stared him down.

“You aren’t one of my captors.” Short, deep, to the point. Hue wasn’t sure why but that voice had him standing up straighter. “I have nothing to say that would amuse you, elf. Leave me in peace.”

“What are you?” Words, innocent as they were, left his mouth without filter.

“I am Qunari, is that not obvious?” Head shook no but it was only answered with a deep sigh.

“You’re a prisoner? Who put you in there?”

“I’m in a cage, am I not? I’ve been placed here by the Chantry.”

“The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family...even the children”, Leliana’s voice reminded him that his friends had followed him, all standing behind the elf. Wide eyes froze, turning back to the strange man with that new knowledge.

“It is as she says.” Admittance; plain and simple. Something about that seemed...off to Hue though, what kind of murderer just admits their guilt and with such a tone? “I am Sten of the Beresaad--the vanguard--of the qunari peoples.”

“Ah, I’m Hue. Gray Warden. Nice to meet you.”

“You mock me.”, eyes narrowed but then replaced with confusion, “Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands.”

“Well, I mean...you introduced yourself so politely…”, finger scratched his cheek, was he not supposed to do that? The way this Qunari?...was staring at him was a little nerve-wracking, it was like the taller man was reading him like a book.

“It matters little, I will die soon enough.” Suddenly it dawned on him that Sten was actually locked in that cage, probably meant to starve to death or worse.

“This is a proud and powerful creature, trapped as prey for the darkspawn. If you cannot see a use for him, I suggest releasing him for mercy’s sake alone.”

“Mercy?”, Alistair snorted in surprise, “I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“I would also suggest that Alistair take his place in the cage.”

“Yes, that’s what I would have expected.” Morrigan’s words made Hue pause, ignoring their bantering as brow creased in thought. A use for him? It seemed leaving anyone to the fate of darkspawn was much too cruel, that he knew. If Sten had done what he said then yes, he did indeed deserve punishment but Hue just couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to this. It felt...odd and whenever he felt something was odd, he knew it wasn’t what it actually was. Was it?

“Are you guilty?” Sten was silent for a moment, furrowed brow regarding the elf.

“Are you asking if I feel guilt, or if I am responsible for the deed?” A pause and then his expression was stone once more, “However I feel, whatever I’ve done, my life is forfeit now. My regret will not bring back the dead.” And there it was, his decision made, he was going to get Sten to join them and that was that.

As much as he wanted to run and explore the Chantry and all it's nooks and crannies he was on a mission. Soldiers were standing around in various spots, Templars, as Alistair pointed out to him,. So that symbol was did mark them as Templars, that information would be useful for later. Who knows who might become their enemy and if the shem want to run around with large symbols emblazoned on their shields and armor to alert everyone who they were well...that seemed a them problem. Before any of that he marched his group right into the study in the back, determination set on his face.

Despite knowing the crime Leliana had actually helped him convince the Revered Mother to let them release Sten, as long as it was in Hue’s custody. She had caught on to his plan pretty quickly, offering assurances where he could not. Impressed, he smiled at her as they headed back into the main part of the Chantry.

“You’re really smart Leliana!”

“Oh? Thank you...I’m not sure what I did though.”

“You helped me get Sten out”, his smile was bright, genuine and she couldn’t help her own growing, “like redemption right? If he did do it, then stopping a Blight is better than him rotting away right?” Yes, she had guessed that was what he was thinking but it felt good hearing the words spill from his mouth. The Maker had truly chosen a merciful one. She watched as Hue approached the head templar, hands moving in animated fashion to his speech and the templar nodded. Seems he was quite pleased to hear that Hue had taken care of some bandits outside of the village. Her eyes followed the rest of her new companions; Alistair was busy talking to a knight nearby and Morrigan was near the door, eyeing every templar as if they’d attack on spot.

“Let’s go get Sten!” Hue’s cheerful voice popped up, his business done as he looked towards his friend, “Hey Alistair, let’s go!”

“Go ahead, I’ll join you.” With a nod, Hue walked right out the chantry with the two women, heading back to the cage.

“You wish something more of me?”

“Yea, I’m getting you out.” Sten’s eyes widened as the small elf started to unlock the cage, key in hand.

“I confess, I did not think the priestess would part with it.”

“She only agreed as long as you came with me.” The door swung open, Hue looked him right in the eye and Sten could only meet them in kind.

“Fine then, I will follow you against the Blight. In doing so I shall find my atonement.” Stepping out, he stretched out the limbs that had been cramped in that damn cage for too long. A warm smile greeted him, almost child-like in its happiness.

“Thanks Sten! Glad to have you with us!” These thanks and platitudes were undeserving to him, even if he was fighting a Blight he was still doing it for selfish reasons.

“May we proceed? I am eager to be elsewhere.” With a laugh, Hue led his new friends back to go pick up Alistair as well as some equipment for Sten and be on their way. To where? Creators knew but with two new friends, he felt like it was going to be interesting. They decided to take the back way from Lothering, marching up the stairs when they heard a commotion. On the bridge were two dwarven merchants, cart trashed and boxes strewn about, screaming at their attackers. Only the attackers weren't raiders, the unholy growl of darkspawn was turned upon them as soon as they came into view. Foul creatures wasted no time at all running at them, swords meeting swords as they engaged. Luckily with Leliana and Sten now in their ranks it took no time at all for these damnable things to be slain, pulling an arrow embedded into one's chest. Maybe they could do this after all...

"Mighty timely arrival there, my friend. I'm much obliged." The thankful voice had him turn, looking upon the dwarves who no seemed afraid. He smiled back at the one with the beard, nodding his head.

"You're welcome, uh..."

"The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur", that last word seemed important but Bodahn continued on, patting the other dwarf on the shoulder, "This here is my son, Sandal. Say hello, my boy."

"Hello."

"Road's been mighty dangerous these days. Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we're going the same way." Hue shrugged a shoulder.

"You can but I don't know if you want to travel with Gray Wardens."

"Gray Wardens, hm? My, that does rather explain a lot", Bodhan stroked his beard, not even thinking on the prospect, "No offense, but I suspect there's more excitement on your path than my boy and I can handle. Allow me to bid you farewell and good fortune, though."

"Goodbye."

"Same to you." With that, Hue waved at them before joining up with his friends. Those two seem nice enough, hopefully they don't find anymore trouble. He could hear Bodhan's voice distantly as their feet carried them further on.

"Now, then. Let's get this mess cleaned up, shall we?"

[jojomugi]

hola. 😳 so, i’m a big h*etaro fan as you may know- could you possibly do a little scenario of the reader comforting him after the events of sdc? like my guy, there’s no way jotaro was just okay after all of that. nonono. i do not think for a minute he was. anyways, may i please get some (a bit angsty) soft comforting hours for jotaro? pls and thank you.

Ah yES!!!!

My apologies for the wait. I’ve never written Jotaro before, so this involved a lot of drafting. On the bright side, Jotaro is now another character I can write. I just hope it’s not too OOC. Honestly, we don’t get to see old Jotarhoe get into his feelings too often unless he’s pissed off. I hope you enjoy this though!! I put a lot of love into it just for you buddy 👀!!!

All aboard the angst train whoo whoo.

✨AU: N/A

✨Word Count: 2517

✨SFW?: Yes

✨Spoilers ahead for JJBA PART 3!!!! Read at your own risk!!

The pink petals of the cherry blossom tree outside your home fell like rain droplets from the sky. You were awaiting the arrival of a friend; A friend who on an emotional level was much more than that to you, but a friend nonetheless. Last time you had seen Jotaro Kujo was when you and the rest of the stand using crusaders all reached Egypt.

Quite frankly, the time you spent apart from each other would’ve been far shorter if it had not been for the incident leading up to your departure from the group. The long memory was still fresh in your mind like a new film on a camera roll. You wanted to stay and help, you consider him a friend and the rest of the group like a family to you. But that day when Kakyoin became visually impaired by N’doul’s stand Geb and upon Jotaro’s stern request, you went back home. But now all that crossed your mind was the outcome of those final days in Egypt. You knew Jotaro was obviously still alive, as today certainly wouldn’t have been planned out if he wasn’t. But what happened to everyone else? And was it true that the menacing DIO that by proxy haunted each step in that journey vanquished? 

You shook these thoughts from your mind, as your questions would all be answered shortly. You gave yourself one final look down in the mirror and adjusted your pleated skirt with a slight smile. 

‘Today is going to be a good day’ you silently reminded your reflection with a small nod. But before you had a chance to double-check your small shoulder bag, you were stopped in your tracks by a doorbell. 

“In a second!” You called out as your fast feet hurried down the hall like a rabbit. Like ice, your socks did not do much good with the traction on the floor as you hastily slid around on the smoothly polished wood base of your home to grab a few final things and your shoes. Once you finally got everything together at the speed of light, your perfect display you worked on all morning was now a wreck. You h/c hair now not as smooth from when you first brushed it, and your crew socks now at different lengths. Luckily for you, Joataro was one you could genuinely count on to not judge you for your slightly clumsy physical appearance. As he was a Joestar. And one thing you learned from those days of traveling was that no matter what kind of person they are, all Joestars have a righteous heart of gold.

You suddenly swung the door wide open as a sheepish grin plastered on your face. “My apologies Jotaro, I lost track of time.”

“Oi, y/n, it’s fine. I was 5 minutes early anyway.” He bluntly responded with a dip of the bill of his hat. Jotaro had always been a reserved man until he was poked to the point of utter annoyance, but today, right now, something seemed off about him. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in your intuition told you that he deeply troubled by something, more so than how he was during the trip to Egypt. However, you kept to the sideline, as you understood that he was also the type of person to talk when he was ready to. There was no point in forcing him and ruining what was supposed to be a good day for you two. Like a switch, you let out a blink of your e/c eyes and formed a now nonchalant like demeanor. “Oh! Well, it’s alright really. I need to work on my time management skills anyways.” 

Your words were quickly disregarded as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Yare yare. Are you ready?”

You let out a small nod as you stepped out to lock your door. You two finally departed to the sidewalk to make your way towards town. However, all the could be heard between you two were footsteps.

Crunchy. Melancholy. Footsteps.

Internally you just hoped that something interesting would come by the path you two took. Like maybe a cute dog, or an interesting butterfly. Anything to break the tense silence between you two. It was agonizingly awkward, even for Joatro’s standards of reservation.

But if fate wasn’t going to intervene, you had to come up with something on your own. You pondered hard on what to say, as you wouldn’t want to trigger any type of problems dwelling within his mind. You went with the safest route and asked a question you already had a vague idea of an answer to.

“How is your mother doing?”

The silence continued for a few moments more. You slid your hands into your cardigan pockets and waited patiently. 

“She’s better now.” 

The Kujo’s words were as blunt as an ancient knife. But even so, it deeply stung. Your hunch was correct there really was something wrong.

“I’m glad to hear. I was so worried about her. The day I flew back here I used what was left of my money to have a card and flowers sent to her.”

“I know.” 

And yet another insult to injury. Still, even with your sensitive emotions, you did your best not to take it personally. 

“She…really appreciated it. Thank you y/n.” He carefully added, as his step accidentally kicked a rock down the coated pink pathway. Your e/c eyes couldn’t help but soften at the sentiment. He was slowly but surely seeming close to his normal self. With the flip of your locks, you quickly turned your head up at him to press on.

“Well, I’m glad. And what about Mr.Joestar? How is he?”

A faint smile formed that hid behind the high collar of his coat. The only way you could tell he was even smiling was by the very slight movement of the male’s defined cheekbones. 

“Psh…Still a pain in my ass like before.”

A small irresistible giggle emitted from you. Jotaro’s ocean-like eyes glanced down at you for a moment, before steadily looking forward again. His look was now refined and sober once more.

“Oi, y/n, I’m getting tired of walking. Let’s go sit at the bench up the way.” He suggested with a point from his bold finger in the general direction of the bench that you two would soon be approaching. You complied with a nod and once you both got there, you sat on separate ends.

From the eyes of another, no one would even guess you two were even going to the same destination, that it was a mere coincidence you two just so happened to be sitting on the same bench. That was far from the case, but Jotaro was mentally distant and you were hesitant to step into that void of mental distress. Still, you felt as his friend, and how close he was in your heart, it was your duty to help him through whatever he was going through, or at least support and encourage him. You took in a deep inhale, and shortly freed a long sigh from your lips.

“What about Kakyoin? I’ve been worried about him too. Is he still able to see? I figured he would’ve called by now, especially since we live in the same-“

Those first words amongst your rambling…

‘What about Kakyoin.’ 

A tsunami of flashbacks washed over his already flood thoughts and emotions. The weight of guilt at that moment would have destroyed mountains if it was able to. Since that night, he couldn’t help but wonder what he could’ve done differently for him for Kakyoin to still be with them. He made a best friend in someone who thought he couldn’t trust in the beginning. As much as Jotaro’s Joestar legacy deemed him a hero for defeating DIO, in Joatro’s eyes, Kakyoin was a real hero for the final message he left them in those endmost moments of his life on what DIO’s stand really was. Deep down he knew its what Kakyoin would’ve wanted, vengeance for all those that DIO damaged, including himself. He knew that the fight would end with loss—But he could not shake the feeling that he could’ve done something to change the fate of his best friend.

He quickly straightened up with a snap.

“Damn it. Can you just shut up already?” The male gritted, retaining all the frustration and overwhelming emotions he wanted to release. He’d never inflict harm onto you, but he definitely wanted to punch something. But just as quick as he fractured to you, he instantly regretted his knee jerk reaction to you. Obviously, you would’ve had no clue on what was taunting him. The Kujo was at least that rational with his mind. “Just….”

A longingly defeated groan fell from his mouth as he bent forward, bracing his sharp elbows against his knees. You were struck in the heart by his harsh response. He was always quick to be agitated but not in this way. But if the mention of Kakyoin was enough to drive him to that, you only feared the worse, for Joatro was never one to get overly tied up in small, fixable, problems. You slanted towards his direction while still respecting his personal bubble. 

“Jotaro…are you alright?” You asked with a soft sort of caution. 

There was a long pause yet again. The male slid his cap off for a moment before sitting back up and placing it back upon its place. You deserved to know what happened to your form friends as well, just as much as he had the right to grieve over this loss in his own ways. What to say wasn’t hard to formulate, but translating the pain into spoken words was what tormented him.

“Kayoin…Didn’t make it.” He alas answered, trying his best to keep the sharp lump that he formed down. To not fall apart.

For a moment you were dumbfounded. You certainly did believe him, but how? How could such a talented stand user like him fall? Your lip twitched as it begged you to allow itself to quiver. As much as you yourself wanted to break down from this news, you remained strong. This time it was your turn to be the strong one for him. Jotaro truly needed you, for you were the remaining person who wasn’t far across in another continent that he knew he could confide in. He undeniably trusted you with his whole heart, which was truly a rarity for anyone he kept around.

“I’m…so sorry…” you shakenly stammered, as you placed a soft hand on to one of his broad shoulders closest to you. He sharply continued, almost as if you remained silently idle in the same place you were before. 

“Avdol and Iggy…they didn’t make it either. Old man shouldn’t even be here but he survived thanks to DIO’s stupidity.” He spoke in a begrudging manner. He hated that name. DIO. If it wasn’t for DIO, he wouldn’t have had to lose anyone, and no one would’ve been hurt, not even the people who blindly followed him in hopes of something in return. However…ironically enough, he wouldn’t have had the experiences he had that brought him and others together to form a bond that carried its way through even the afterlife. 

You remained silent as you awaited for him to continue if he wanted to continue that is. Your light fingertips gently grazed themselves across him back, leaving a reminder of your openness and reassurance you had to offer for Jojo.

While getting a grip on his composure, Jotaro continued. He hated apologizing in general, but in this instance, it would’ve been upright rude for him not to. “Listen, Y/n, I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Its fine, Jotaro. I don’t blame you once so ever.” You scooted closer towards him before proceeding on. “In fact, you seem to have a lot on your mind today.”

Jotaro let out a breath of air and leaned back in the wooden seat. That was the damn truth, he really did have a lot on his shoulders, even though everything was done and over with.

“I don’t want to admit it, but I’m dealing with a lot of emotions I don’t understand. Hell, it’s even more terrifying to confront them than it was to confront DIO. Even after defeating him, there is still a lega- no, a path he left behind that needs to be dealt with. He’s dead for good, but the consequences of his actions are still here leaving an impact on me and so many others.” 

“Unfortunately I don’t know if Star Platinum could beat up your emotions…But at least you can beat the crap out of DIO!” You nervously joked, hoping to not border onto the boundary of joking inappropriately. 

“Tch. True.”

One side of the Kujo’s lip halfheartedly curled at your honest yet funny commentary. He honestly needed to help combat with containing the deep-seated emotions that wanted to explode from within. 

As quick as your joke spilled, you shook your head to keep your focus back onto him. It was time to pour your honest intentions to him. Even though he was no longer facing DIO, he was now facing what some might even say was more mysterious and challenging than some century-old vampire. And that was the human mind and its complex rewiring after a traumatic event. You’d never discount your own feelings, but you’d also never leave someone you love to suffer alone. You calmly shut your eyes after you found the courage within you to say what you needed to say. And then you spoke.

“I’m not a therapist by any means but…They were my friends too. It already hurts to have them gone, but it hurts, even more to see you struggling alone with pain far greater than yours.” Your trailing hand froze back onto his shoulder.

“Jotaro. Take what I’m about to say as you will but….” Your body froze as your sudden pause drew his handsome blue eyes and attention back onto you. Yeah, this was a lot easier to say with his strong intimidating appearance not looking you dead in the eye. With a small swallow, you finally said it. “I love you, and I will always be there for you. It would be a disservice to how much we grew together during those weeks to not be there. Whenever you’re ready, and whenever you need me. Just call me and I’ll be there.” 

Jotaro’s eyes didn’t stray from yourself. He was clearly taking what you said into deep consideration. He took in a deep inhale and turned forward. You could feel a load of relief wash over you until suddenly, his large hand placed itself over your much more tinier one. 

“Y/n.”

“Y-yes?”

“Thank you.”