#bonking heads on the roof and uhhh whats the word

[pinkydude]

Valentin & Mitch | 411/??

[thiswasinevitableid]

Gift (Indruck)

A second fill for @crepuscularlives

16. we didn’t read the invitation that said this party was formal so we’re in our ugly christmas sweaters. SFW

Duck’s fully prepared for Aubrey, and maybe even Mama, to tease him for his Newton family christmas sweater. When he gets to the Lodge to find everyone dressed swanky, he thinks it’s some sort of elaborate prank. He decides to ask Barclay, since he tends to be less invested in pranks than the others. 

“Uhhh” Barclay points to a stray invite, “it said formal, see? We thought a change of pace would be fun.”

“Fuck. I just came straight from a family thing, didn’t think it’d matter.”

Barclay pats his shoulder with a warm smile, “Don’t worry about it, man, it’s not like anyone’s gonna toss you out for it.”

Duck grumbles something about not wanting to stick out as he turns, and spies an even uglier sweater across the room. It’s bright green and fire-engine red with, covered in old-school colored bulb christmas lights, blinking like fireflies. 

Somehow, it suits Indrid perfectly.

The Sylph waves when we spots Duck, coming over to join him by the drinks table. 

“Hello Duck, I’m glad this is the future where you’re here.” He ladles himself a mug from one of the two crockpots of eggnog. 

“Howdy, ‘Drid. Glad I ain’t the only one who went for the ugly sweater vibe.”

Indrid cocks his head, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

Duck groans, reaches up to hide behind a hat that isn’t there.

Indrids smile widens, “I’m joking. It was a, ah, what do always call it...ah yes, a goof.”

He laughs, relieved, “Jesus, you got me good.”

“It’s payback for the time you convinced me that squirrels were carnivorous.” 

Duck snickers at the memory of Indrid, in his moth form in the woods, eyeing the squirrels warily. 

He joins Aubrey, Thacker, and Dani by the fire, and Indrid wanders over to oin them, taking a seat next to Duck when the human scoots over to offer him it. Thacker talks about the library and the regrowing cities, and Indrid’s face turns wistful. Duck suspects only he can see it, Indrid’s glasses showing enough of his eyes from the side to make emotions clearer. 

(Indrid always sits across from people. The last few times they’ve met up, he sits next to Duck).

In spite of only some gentle ribbing about his clothes, he keeps picking at the sleeve of the sweater. It’s a little itchy, and he could have worn that nice green shirt with the pine tree tie that he likes. And every time he catches a glimpse of himself in a window, he’s back in space, watching an evil hivemind recreate it’s pattern on a mimic of his sister. 

“Is it bothering you a lot?” Indrid murmurs.

“N-no, uh, I, uh, just, fuck, it’s nothin,” He stops talking, flees Indrid’s red stare to refill his cider. He pauses to talk with Kirby and Ned, is looking around the room for a new spot to sit (and for Indrid), only for a tan hand to wave him into a hallway. 

“Here, try this.” Indrid ties a discarded gift ribbon around his wrist, and he’s no longer looking down at the wool sweater and jeans. He’s in a deep gray suit, with a green shirt and a silver tie. 

“Holy shit. Wait, do I look-”

“-different? No, I left your physical form intact. I can make disguises of different magnitudes. A simple clothing swap is easily done. And I, ah, I did not want you to spend a night with friends lost in frightening memories.”

Duck’s about to thank him when the words sink in. 

“There was a future where you told me. I, ah, you’ve mentioned what you saw at Reconciliation before, but not that detail.”

“Wasn’t scared so much as pissed.” Duck glances at his shoes, now well-shined loafers. 

“Understandable. And useful; the odds were not in your favor, believe me. But well-timed anger can change the course of fate. Just as choosing mercy--even when others urge for violence--can. Punching me also reset fate rather dramatically.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

Indrid’s smile is small, and stunningly fake, “It was for the best. I’m going to get some more nog. Would you like some?”

“Nah, still gotta finish this. But I do wanna try some of that salmon dip.”

“In true bear fashion.” Indrid’s smile turns genuine when Duck snorts and elbows him. 

They talk and mingle with their friends, Indrid making frequent returns to the nog bowl. Duck steps outside for air, comes back and spends a moment watching Indrid by the fire. Stern notices him, steps away from an animated conversation with a ghostly Boyd about art forgery to join him. 

“Quite the dapper costume change.”

“Thanks. ‘Drid did it for me.”

Stern follows Duck’s gaze, then casually sip his wine, “Have you told him yet?”

“Told, uh, told him what?”

“Duck, you spend more time with him than almost anyone else.”

“Half my friends live on another planet now.”

“And every time you look at him, your smile changes. His does too. According to Barclay, he talks about you like you’re the most fascinating thing on earth. Right, love?” He kisses Barclay’s cheek as the cook joins them.

“Yep.”

There’s a crash as Indrid loses his balance and knocks over a lamp, which Aubrey freezes mid-air.

“Shit, he’s hammered.” Barclay sounds surprised. 

“How much rum did you put in the nog?” Duck doesn’t remember the sip he had from Indrid’s cup tasting that strong. 

“I made two batches, one with booze and one without. Indrid was drinking the non-spiked one earlier. Wonder when he switched.”

“About the time Duck changed clothes.”

“...How did you not catch us durin the Pine Guard days again?”

Stern smiles, “Barclay can be very distracting when he wants to be. And none of you have ever asked exactly how much I worked out.”

He has a point. As does Barclay when he points out that Indrid should have someone take him home after the party.

When Duck offers him a ride, Indrid chirps excitedly, bonks his forehead on the roof of the car, and climbs in. By the time they get back to the ‘Bago, Duck knows he can’t just leave Indrid here.

“You’re staying?” Indrid bounces on the bed as Duck turns on the space heaters. 

“Just ‘til you sober up. I’ll stay out in the main cab so you can sleep.”

Indrid lets out a chirr that intensifies when Duck slips the ribbon from his wrist. It almost sounds perturbed. 

“I mean, uh, I can go if you really need me to.”

Indrid shakes his head, barely managing to get his shoes off before burrowing under to covers, “Please stay as long as you want.” 

Duck nods, excuses himself to use the bathroom, and comes back to Indrid chirp-snoring into the pillows. He’s such a cute, weird man. Duck will just sit down a second to make sure he doesn’t wake up and need something. 

The one small seat is taken up by a binder, which opens when Duck lifts it. Instead of the expected paper avalanche, he finds drawings, each in their own plastic slip. He flips through it as he settles in the chair. Interspersed with the drawings are papers labeled in one or two two words of Sylph, and Duck reverse engineers their likely meanings from the images that follow them. The section with all the plants and animals must be “nature,” the one with parties and state fairs “events.” There’s even a section that’s all elements of winter holidays; the Rockefeller tree with decorations that suggest the 1930s, a menorah in a window, candles on the table of a house that’s seen better days.  Towards the back is a section that has to be “friends.” There are one or two people who appear in images with Indrid. Including the kind that make Duck quickly turn the page. The further he gets in that section, the more familiar faces he sees; Barclay, Aubrey, Jake, Ned. 

He sees himself, returning from saving the world, battered but alive. 

“The odds were not good”

Tucked at the very back of the section, between the final empty pages and the binder, is a folded paper. Curious, Duck opens it. 

It’s him. With Indrid. They’re on Indrid’s tiny bed, kissing.

God that looks nice. 

Startled by his own thoughts, he tucks the picture back into the binder and sets the whole thing on the floor. Decides one of the paperbacks strewn on the floor is a better way to occupy himself then accidentally finding more personal images. 

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

The world is ending, everything is ripping away into the sky, everything he’s fought for is gone. He failed. He didn’t want a destiny, and he’s failed the fucking thing anyway and it’s all gone and there’s no future for him now but to be torn into ash-

“Duck, Duck wake up” 

He jolts, whams his head into the wall of the very intact Winnebago at the edge of the still standing Monongahela while a very alive, now-sober Indrid leans over him. 

“Owfuck.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m sorry, you were very clearly having a nightmare and I figured you’d like it to stop.”

“Yeah” He rubs his head, “yeah I did. Thanks. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Given that in many futures our positions were reversed, I don’t have a lot of room to complain about someone shouting in their sleep.” Indrid sits down on the floor next to the chair, stays silent as Duck coaxes his breathing to even out. A hand hesitates in the air, then touches his arm, rubbing it reassuringly. 

No one else saw it. Not even Minerva or Leo, the only people who could understand the horror of seeing a thing unfold with scant chances of stopping it. 

Indrid’s hand brush lightly over his own before returning to his arm. 

No, not the only people. 

“Indrid, can I ask you somethin?”

“Of course.”

“The day we let The Quell through and saved the worlds did you, uh, did you see what woulda happened if Aubrey hadn’t blown the gate apart?”

“Yes.” The reply is quiet.

“Do you, uh, still see it sometimes?”

“Now and then, but I have far more bad timelines in my mind, and more failures in my past, for my nightmares to draw upon than you do. That is half the reason I drank so much tonight. Around the time of the winter solstice, my nightmares increase in frequency and intensity, Sylvain only knows why. Sometimes substances dull that.”

“Oh, ‘Drid.” Duck turns in the chair. Indrid’s gaze stays straight ahead, but his fingers shred a nearby scrap of paper. 

“The irony is, I love this time of year on Earth, in spite of the chill. I love the winter holidays, the gathering of warmth and light to hold one over until the spring returns. But my enjoyment of it is dampened by the workings of my powers and mind.”

“Fuck, guess I oughta count myself lucky I only got a few bad visions to remember.” The joke falls flat, and Indrid glances at him. 

“That vision is nothing to laugh at. I’m glad you had it all the same, glad you triumphed and survived.”

“Woulda really sucked to accept my destiny only to fail at the last fuckin second.”

He shuts his mouth to stop the next thought from escaping; Indrid doesn’t need to know that he sometimes fears that everything he’s done and wants to do now that fate is no longer hanging a talking sword over his head will somehow be hollow.

“You were so much more than your destiny, Duck Newton. You still are.” 

The sincerity, half-obscured in shadow and red lens, is too much. He doesn’t know what to say, or if he should say anything at all. 

“Guess, uh, guess you likin the holidays explains that section in the binder.”

“Yes. Wait. Did, ah, did you look through the whole thing?” Fear slips into his voice. 

“Uhhuh.”

“Even the, ah, the last page?”

“Yep. Some real beautiful drawin’s in there. Some mighty interestin ones too.”

Indrid nervously taps his fingers together, “Since you are about to ask, that future took place shortly after the cottonwood. You, you came by to apologize for punching me and to tell me you were glad I was alright and, and ask me to stay in Kepler and when I asked why, you did that. Just one little kiss. That’s as far as I got before the timelines changed. It’s, it’s alright, of course, that’s how timelines work, and you did eventually apologize.”

He did, two or three separate times, and each time Indrid brushed it off, insisting it was what needed to be done.

Duck sinks to the floor, turns on his knees to bring them face to face. 

“What are you-” Indrid stiffens as Duck gingerly pushes up his glasses. He’s never seen Indrid’s face like this, uncovered but still human, and it takes all the air from his lungs.

“Which eye did I hit?”

Indrid touches the right side of his face. Duck tips forward, balancing his fingers on Indrids thighs, and kisses the corner of his right eye.

“There. Now it’s a real apology.” He whispers in Indrid’s ear, close enough that faint, hopeful chirps reach him. He moves a few inches down and over, lips the barest strip of air away from Indrid’s own. 

“You, you don’t have to. Just because something appears in a future doesn’t mean it’s fated to happen.”

“What if I want it to happen?”

Indrid surges forward, cupping Duck’s face. His kisses re feather-light and sweeter than nectar, and Duck wants to drink them down, knows that after this taste he’ll never be full. 

“Duck I, h, I want” Indrid clings to him, his words turning to chirps nd clicks, as he’s so overwhelmed by a little kissing.

“Want me to keep, uh, ‘apologizin?”

“So very much.”

“Then take me to bed, darlin.”

The instant they hit the bed Indrid pulls Duck atop him, fingers fawning over his body as he kisses him over and over. When they stop to catch their breath, Duck remembers something,

“‘Drid, what was the other half of the reason you got drunk?”

“A problem of my own making. I did not foresee just how you would look in your suit, and I was trying to avoid an, ah, embarrassing bodily response. Alcohol helps my kind of Sylph in that regard.”

Duck chuckles, nips Indrid’s lower lip, “want me to put it back on?”

“Not just yet.”

“Want me to kiss you ‘til we fall asleep?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything for Christmas in a long time.”

Duck kisses him, keeps teasing their lips together as he murmurs, “then consider me your resent, darlin.”

[isaacmcadoo]

I’m Not Alone It’s Good To Know

A/N: This is the ace!Rick fic I’ve been wanting to write pretty much since we really got to spend time with Rick. This fic is about 99% just me projecting thoughts I’ve had on my boy, so... uh... please be kind...

“Rick! Wait up!” He heard her shout. He pulled his bag farther up his shoulder as he slowed to a stop then turned to look at her face. Her wide grin brought the fluttering back to his chest. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs as she touched his arm.

“Are you still coming over to study tonight?” She spoke as she pulled her hand away. Rick’s mouth went dry, of course he wanted to spend time with Beth, Friday nights were their nights. But after what Yolanda had told him during lunch, he didn’t know what to do.

“Of,” he stopped to clear his throat, “of course! I just, uhhh…” he looked down at his feet.

“I have, uh, something I have to do first, so I’ll be there in about an hour.” He looked up at her through his eye lashes, noticing Beth’s face fall. When their eyes met, though, Beth attempted to put on a bright smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Rick kicked himself for doing this to her, but he honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Okay, I’ll see you then!” Beth gripped her back pack straps, sadly walking in the direction of the buses. Rick watched her as she walked away, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He closed his eyes, frustrated with himself, before turning and punching the locker. He sighed leaning his back up against it and looked up at the ceiling. Why did Yolanda have to say something? If she hadn’t said anything Rick wouldn’t have been sitting here, overthinking everything.

“She wants you so bad!” Yolanda poked Rick’s cheek. He turned a bright shade of red, burying his face in his chest.

Rick liked Beth, a lot. Scratch that, he loved her. And he couldn’t lie that every time he saw her his heart did a little dance in his chest. But he also knew he was broken, and if Beth knew she wouldn’t want him. He tried to look Yolanda in the eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He hoped he spoke in a nonchalante tone, when he caught sight of Yolanda’s face, he breathed a sigh of relief, because it was clear she bought it.

“She soooo does! And look at your face, you definitely want her too!” Yolanda shook his arm, a wide grin on her face. Rick gave her a tight smile, subtly pulling his arm out of his friend’s grip.

Rick almost told her right then. He’d only ever told one person before, and the reaction had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t really want to go through it again. So he kept his mouth shut. Because Yolanda wasn’t exactly wrong, Rick did want Beth, he wanted Beth so badly sometimes he would feel this aching in his chest. But the kind of want he felt was not the same he knew Yolanda was talking about. His wants were made up of late nights talking on the phone until one of them fell asleep. Driving down the highway with her with the windows down, while she sang along to some song playing on the radio. Sitting on his roof at night and watching the stars, hands intertwined. But that wasn’t normal, and he knew that. He was seventeen, his thoughts were supposed to be consumed by the normal things teenage boys wanted. But Rick learned a long time ago that he wasn’t normal, and he never would be. And he didn’t want to put any person through that. He definitely couldn’t put Beth through that.

“Rick!” His thoughts were interrupted by Yolanda’s fingers snapping in his face. He blinked rapidly, turning to face her.

“Sorry, what’s up?” Yolanda gave him a sad smile.

“I asked if everything was okay.” Rick looked her in the eye. He should just tell her. Just say it, get it over with, rip the bandaid off, quick and painless. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

He can’t.

His eyes popped open to look at Yolanda. Deep down, very very deep down, he knows his friend wouldn’t treat him any differently. But he really couldn’t handle another “You just wait until you’re older and in love, you won’t be saying that.” He felt panic rise in his chest, he couldn’t be here right now.

“I, uh, I have to go,” Rick hopped up and booked it out of the lunch room.

He didn’t stop until he made it to the bathroom. He propped himself up on the sinks, looking at his face in the mirror. He brought his hand up to wipe the tears away that he didn’t realize he had shed.

“This is stupid,” he whispered at his reflection, “It isn’t a big deal! It’s not.” His voice was so small, he hated it. He hated being afraid, he hated feeling like there was something wrong with him. He absolutely HATED feeling like this.

“Damn it!” He put his face in his hands for a moment, before slamming them into the sink.

Rick shook his hand, cradling it while he winced. This was not how today was supposed to go. He was supposed to go over to Beth’s and have a fun night full of studying and movies. Instead, he was sitting against the lockers, having his second near panic attack of the day. Trying to decide how he was going to tell Beth that maybe it was best they stop whatever was going on between them.

“Rick?” Rick’s head snapped up as he looked Artemis in the eye. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Beth’s house?” She asked as she sat down next to him, bonking her head back on the lockers.

Rick studied Artemis for a few seconds. He had no idea what to say. She had joined the JSA fairly recently after finding out about her parents and he hadn’t spent much time with her.

“Shouldn’t you be at football practice.” Artemis shrugged.

“Probably, but you looked like you needed someone to talk to.” Rick turned, unsure what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it quickly. After a few times, he surprised himself and her.

“I really do.”

“What’s up?” She moves her body so she’s facing him, sitting crisscross. Rick takes a deep, calming breath. He can do this. It’s not like he’s that close with Artemis anyway.

“I really, really like Beth.” Artemis rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, congrats, you’re the last to know!” She spoke sarcastically.

“And I realized she might like me too…”

“I fail to see your predicament.” Artemis crosses her arms, giving him a questioning look. Rick groaned in frustration, dragging the palms of his hands down his eyes.

“But I’m broken.” He whispered through his fingers. Artemis’s expression morphed to one of concern.

“What?”

“I’m broken.” Rick tried to find the right words without saying THE word, he didn’t want to admit it aloud ever again. After several long, awful moments of silence, he finally gave up.

“I’m asexual and I can’t give her what she most definitely wants.” Artemis’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, which made Rick shift uncomfortably. This was too much for him. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything, there was no room on this earth for a freak like him, and there was no place in the JSA for a damaged boy.

“Rick,” He felt her hand rest gently on his shoulder, but he refused to look at her face. What if she was disgusted? What if she thought this was a faze? That thought made Rick’s heartbeat skyrocket.

“Beth doesn’t want sex,” Rick looked at the girl through his eye lashes, uncertain of the girl’s words, “She just wants you, trust me. She’s told me.” Rick gave her a skeptical look.

“She told you?”

“Well… not in so many words…”

“So I should totally believe you.”

“Of course! After Beth, I am the smartest, after all.” Rick couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips at that.

How was this possible? Before this moment, Rick and Artemis have had exactly one interaction outside of JSA training. How was she the one making him feel better about his brokenness.

“And if it makes you feel any better, I’m Demi.” Rick’s ears perked up at that. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought. He turned to her, smiling wide.

“Makes us quite the pair doesn’t it?” She asked, smiling as she threw her arm around his shoulders. Rick laughed, placing his own arm around her’s.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me!” Artemis pulled away, “Just go talk to Beth!”

Rick gave her a nervous look, bringing his hand up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I don’t know if I can…” Artemis rolled her eyes before standing up, reaching a hand down and pulling him up.

“You have to, she deserves to know the truth.” Rick sighed deeply before nodding.

“I guess…”

“Go! I expect to get a call from Beth later telling me all about how you have told her everything.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Rick made his way to the front doors.

The walk to Beth’s house was a long one, and about halfway there, Rick turned around and started walking home before he told himself that wasn’t fair to Beth. Beth. Rick closed his eyes for a moment as he thought about the girl. The sweetest girl he’d ever known. If Artemis could be accepting, Beth had to be too, right?

Wrong. The paranoid part of his brain told him. He stood in place for a moment, breathing deeply. He could do this, he could. He needed to, for his own sake at least. He couldn’t go on living like this.

Before he knew it he was walking up her steps. He knocked softly and stood back to wait. An agonizing minute later, Beth swung the door open, and when her gaze landed on Rick, her eyes lit up.

“You did come!” She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the home, looping her arm through his, “I was worried you were trying to avoid me!” She looked up at him, a twinkle in her eye that did not help Rick with his nerves. Gingerly he pulled his arm out and away from Beth’s. She turned to face him, a questioning look written across her face.

“I was.” He softly whispered, staring at her feet since he was unable to look at her face. He just knew hurt would be etched in every corner, and he hated that. He had caused that. But after today, he wouldn’t be doing it anymore, since she wouldn’t want anything to do with him after this was all over.

“Why?” The pain oozed into her voice, and Rick stole a glance at her face and felt his heart rip in two. She looked devastated. Which made him devastated because he had done that to her. He quickly looked away, bringing his hands down to fiddle with the zipper on his hoodie.

“Because…” he tried to calm himself by closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, but it wasn’t working. He opened his eyes and brought them up to meet Beth’s, he immediately felt calmer, and he hated himself for it. He had put too much responsibility on Beth without her even knowing, it wasn’t fair to her.

“Because I really like you, but…” How the hell was he supposed to tell her? How were the words supposed to come out of his mouth for the second time today?

“But I can’t do anything about it because I’m broken and you deserve better.” He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t say it, not again. It was too much for one day.

“You’re not broken,” Beth brought her hand up to his cheek, gently cupping it, “You’re perfect just the way you are.” Rick squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to cry.

“And I love you.” Rick snapped his eyes open. He searched for the joke on her face, because he knew, deep down, that that couldn’t be true. He was unlovable. He didn’t deserve to be loved.

He felt himself begin to lean down ever so slowly, as Beth brought her face up to meet him. When he realized what was going on, quickly he turned so Beth brought her lips up to meet his cheek. She pulled back, clearly embarrassed. All Rick wanted to do was comfort her, tell her it was not her, but he didn’t know what to say that would make it better.

“Beth, I just… I can’t do this to you.” Rick gazed down at her face, bringing his hand up to stroke his thumb across her cheek.

“Rick, you’re starting to scare me, what’s wrong?” She clutched his hand, bringing it down to hang between them. Rick stared at their hands, he had to say it, she deserved to know everything.

“Beth, I… I love you but I can’t ever give you what you want.”

“And how do you know what I want?” Beth’s voice had an edge to it that shocked Rick to his core.

“Because you’re normal.” Rick whispered, giving a sad smile.

“Look at me, Rick,” Beth pulled her hands off of his to grab his face, “Look at me!” Beth’s eyes softened when she saw the brokenness in his eyes. Rick finally brought his hands up and held her waist, pulling her close.

“What does normal even mean?” Beth smiled, lifting herself up on her tiptoes, knocking her forehead against his. Rick closed his eyes and sighed.

“Please talk to me.” Beth begged. Rick opened his eyes, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her fiercely. Before he knew what was happening, he felt the tears streaming down his face, soaking the shoulder of Beth’s new sweater.

“Rick…” Beth held him tightly, moving her arms from his face to his shoulders, “I love you, nothing you can say will ever change that.” Rick pulled back, hands returning to her waist.

“You promise?”

“Of course.” Rick knocked their foreheads together once more.

“I love you.”