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#dunno why but when i was a wee little child
berryicet · 1 year
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Glad everyone agrees my fursona would be a moth
Unfortunately I am a basic bitch and my actual fursona is a purple fox that evolved from a heavily inspired Ava G ballora design
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theimaginatrix27 · 1 year
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So I've gotten a few of the revamped Discworld audiobooks
I really like what I'm hearing so far!
The ones I currently have are Small Gods(again), Wyrd Sisters (due to the miniseries I watched bits of as a small child, and which was my introduction to the Disc, though I knew it not then), Soul Music (I paid more attention to that miniseries, though I never fully processed "Susan's grandfather is Death" because I didn't know the context/missed the beginning), and Amazing Maurice (which was the first Discworld novel I ever read courtesy of Vision Australia).
I also got a set of BBC audio dramas, but I wasn't satisfied with some of them (the guy who played Death was not a bass and Death can't just be a tenor/baritone with a reverb slapped on I'm sorry I didn't make these rules.)
So, let's start with Small Gods, because I listened to the play version and then the new version read by Andy goddam Serkis.
So Andy did a phenomenal job, but who was expecting any different?
He did give Brutha a deeper voice than I expected from a seventeen-year-old but I got used to that (also I had just listened to the audio drama wherein Brutha was played by another tenor so I was a wee bit biased).
He also turned Om into David Lister from Red Dwarf and I don't know how to feel about that one except I hope Terry was listening in the afterlife and found it just as hilarious.
After consuming three separate versions of this book I can state with confidence that I would absolutely die for Brutha if that would not make him sad. He was such a good boy.
Death shows up just a little in this book but I'll gush about him in a minute.
Apart from the other plays, which I skimmed through, I've only read Soul Music, so let's just move on to that one okay?
Death has his own voice actor. I mentioned this the other night when I made the post wherein I related my discovery of the new set of audiobooks, but guys he is. Killing it. (pun absolutely intended and also completely true.) His voice is deep and dark and rolls like thunder and is the perfect balance of black honey on black velvet and GAH I LOVE IT. There need to be audiobook narrations awards just so Peter Serafinowicz could get seven.
Sian Clifford is also amazing, and captures Susan very well, as well as every other character, and I enjoyed listening to her extremely very much.
Seriously Peter's Death is the best iteration of Death I've ever heard and I watched the miniseries of this book, which had Death played by Christopher goddam Lee!
Peter does not, notably, attempt to speak for the Death of Rats. I do not mind this. Sian's "SQUEAK"s were adorable. (Can you do the Death font on Tumblr? I think I've seen the Death font rendered weirdly by my screen-reader before and I dunno if it was on here or TVTropes.)
I didn't get the Nigel version of this book but I heard the sample and he did what he always does with gloomy characters and made Susan sound cartoon glum and ... I'm glad that's not what I experienced here.
Terry's references are like finding chocolate coins every now and then when you turn a page and I love them.
In short, I believe I've made an excellent investment.
I really hope whoever narrates the Vimes books is as good as the guy who played him in the Night Watch drama. I think he was different from the guy who played him in the Guards! Guards! drama, which is why I'm pointing him out specifically. I'm sure I'll love the choice regardless, but I'm still gonna voice the hope.
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watermelonsugacry · 2 years
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wait wait wait omg where was 1dbandmate!yn in the carpool karaoke??
Carpool Karaoke
SINCE 2010 MASTERLIST
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Here are some of the highlights! :
"Hey man, eh do you think you can help me get to work? Ugh, thanks man you're the best." James hangs up the phone with a sigh of relief.
It's not long before Niall slides into the passenger side only for Louis to open the back door. YN follows in and scoots her way in with Harry on her trail. And finally Liam comes in and closes the door by his side.
"Hey James." YN smiles as she adjusts herself in her squished seat.
After some initial greetings, James is slowly 'driving' their way out of the parking lot. It was like a mum picking up her kids from school.
"Seat belts on everyone. Anyone need to wee?"
Harry raises his hand, "I need to wee."
"Hold it." James says dismissively.
"Can we get some food on the way?" YN asks, leaning over the best she can in between the center console, one hand on the driver's head rest and the other on Harry's knee.
"Of course we can, golden child." James says causally, 'focusing' on the road ahead on him. YN sits back in her seat with a satisfied smile as if she's silently boasting about how she's the favorite one out of the bunch.
...
When Best Song Ever comes on, YN falls right back into her usual harmony. Her and Harry look to each other, moving their fists in up and down as they sing, "We danced, we danced, it goes something like this!"
When James when he hits Zayn's high note, the band stops with wide eyes and surprised smiles as they look to the tv host.
...
James and Niall hands everyone a jean jacket. It was pretty difficult for the band in the back seat to put one since everyone was so tightly squished together.
"Louis! Yeh nearly clocked me eye out!" YN moves her head out of the way just in time to miss Louis's fist.
"Move yeh head then!"
Harry beckons his fingers so she can lean more over to his side behind him as he leans forwards.
Then James goes on to teach the band choreography for No Control.
"I'm a loaded gun," James makes a motion for everyone to point down to their crotches, making the band let out a chuckle. "YN if you don't wanna do that p--"
"No, no. I'll point to me own **** too. That's cool." Her cuss word is beeped out from the video and it makes James let out one of his high pitched laughs.
And when they're performing, everyone acts very suave as if they were actually doing a music video.
"Taste," YN sings to front view camera, lifting her shoulder to her cheek in a sultry way.
"Where is it Niall?" James asks, turning to the blonde lad as he sticks out his toungue.
"On my tongue." She slides the backs of her hands under her chin and jawline while fluttering her eyelashes. "I don't want to wash away the night before. Before!" She riffs her last word.
...
While James has Niall playing Sleep With, Marry, Cruise, it can be seen in the background that YN is mindlessly playing with the threads coming off of the rips in Harry's jeans at his knees. Although their conversation isn't picked up on camera, fans can clearly see them talking quietly amongst themselves.
Harry leans his head a little bit over to her ear, not so much given how squished together they are from their seating arrangements (which he's certainly not complaining about), "Dunno why we always gotta be playing games like this."
"Oh? So you're tellin' me you've got better things to do?" YN teases with a soft smile.
He's sitting right next to his crush for the past 5 and a half years, their sides and faces so incredibly close to one another than he can breathe in the minty gum she's chewing, her fingers grazing his bare knee as she braids the tiny threads peaking out from rips there--he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
"Clearly." He playfully widens his eyes and is gifted when she huffs out a laugh through her nose.
"Who would you choose?"
You.
He gives his shoulder a shrug, "Eh, dunno. Like I said I don't fancy these games. You?"
"Can't tell you tha'." YN discreetly turns up heat setting on Liam's seat warmer on the middle console in front of her while he's looking out the window. "You'll hold it against me one day."
"Whot? Is it me for all three of them?" Harry teases. He only said that just to see her give him one of her infamous eye rolls, maybe even a playful shove. But his heart begins to race when she sees her eyes still focused on where her hands mess with the threads, her lips tucking inward to keep her smile from growing.
"S'bit narcissistic of you, innit?"
Harry's thoughts begin to go a mile a minute. She explicitly didn't agree to that being her answer, but she also technically didn't deny it either. Before he can think to say another word, James suggests for everyone to sing along to their next track.
...
And the part where James does a rap for bridge of Drag Me Down and everyone chips in with their own flare, YN sings the consist melody of the pre-chorus.
Together, Harry and YN harmonize their first high note riffs together.
"Nobody can drag me down!"
The volume of their singing can be annoying to the boys next to them but they could honestly care less. It's when they get to their second set of high notes that the two end up bursting out in laughter at the fact that both of their voices crack at the same time.
YN puts a hand over her smile and the other to Harry's knee as she leans forward in laughter.
Taglist:
@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish 
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whumpzone · 3 years
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Linden & Colton - 15
(masterpost)
another exercise in triggering col, haha. ever since ive had whumpy daydreams as a child ive liked thinking about the caretaker brushing the whumpees teeth. this was meant to be fluffier but i like how it's become something unique to colton <3
CW: NSFW, triggered whumpee, heavy references to n0ncon oral sex, dehumanisation, pet whump
-
Something was bothering Linden as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror one morning. He could hear the uncertain thumps of Col’s footsteps downstairs- sometimes he could hear him dragging his feet, scared to lift them entirely off the ground. He turned his attention back, trying to figure out what was annoying him.
Then he realised, as he looked into the small jar on the side of the sink. Col’s toothbrush was bone dry. There weren’t even flecks of toothpaste down the handle. He frowned. He really, really couldn’t let that happen. He thought about how if Colton only spoke, he might have noticed sooner, might have caught it on his breath, but he stopped himself. It’s not his fault.
The bathroom looked directly through to the staircase, and as Linden walked out he caught the familiar pair of eyes peering up at him, before Col quickly drew himself back behind the wall.
But Linden had seen him, and they both knew it. It was as if Col could tell already that he was in trouble. He rarely pulled back from Linden in any way, but today he was already halfway across the room by the time Linden had descended the stairs.
“Have you been brushing your teeth?” he asked plainly, not knowing how else to go about it.
Col shook his head, of course he did, but there was a brief second where Linden could see that he was considering lying. He liked that.
. . .
Pet had to confess, but it made him feel hot and prickly with fear. He had been bad. Master’s voice was firm and clipped. He was disappointed in him.
“You have to,” Master ordered, and Pet nodded immediately. Okay, okay, I will. I won’t hesitate. “Why haven’t you so far? Were you- was it because you thought you weren’t allowed? Or were you… scared to? Does it hurt?”
Pet’s head started to spin, and he cringed hard as Master sighed, heavy with frustration. “Sorry, sorry. Way too many questions, I know. Besides, it’s not- wait!” Master suddenly looked up at his pet intensely, and like a poorly-behaved dog, he flinched. Master hardly seemed to notice, though, as he continued, “You said the other day, didn’t you, that you can’t hold a pencil well? It’s hard to grip it? Is it… is the toothbrush too hard to hold properly?”
How did he know? Pet nodded, defeatedly. He had tried, fuck, he really had, fighting a losing battle in the wee hours until he could have wept with frustration. He glanced down at his hands. For a brief moment there weren’t clean and unbound, they were bleeding, the wire was cutting into him, cutting to the bone it felt, and he could barely twitch without the pain shooting all the way up his arms. The memories were so real, sometimes. And wasn’t it helpful that the pain never truly left? It had followed him from his old owner’s house to the streets all the way to Master’s front door and beyond, a phantom trailing along his joints, keeping him reminded of his place.
“That’s okay. I can help.”
Master’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, thankfully, and as he turned to stride upstairs Pet followed him meekly, hands cradled before him.
He was ordered to sit on the lid of the toilet while Master busied himself. It made Pet stiffen up. It looked eerily similar to when his old owner had something big planned, and he made his slave sit helplessly and watch. When Master turned to him, holding the toothbrush like a weapon, the association was so strong that it made Pet whimper and duck his head. Oh, god, he was so bad.
“I’m sorry,” Master said, and it truly sounded like there was feeling behind the words, like he really meant it. It was cruel. “I don’t have a choice.”
You do, Pet thought, even though it was disobedient. Master always has a choice. Master controls everything.
“This is for your own good,” he said. “You understand, Col?”
Oh, Pet understood well. He had endured many horrors for his own good, and this was not among the worst. He would gladly submit to Master’s strange ritual.
But then- “I promise it won’t be too bad. Can you open up?”
Pet gasped. He was back, he was back there, not again, please please please not again. He was strung up and completely defenceless. He wasn’t in control, he never had been, he was an object and he was being used.
He opened his mouth wide, letting his tongue sit over his teeth. Master punished him if it even looked at if he’d try to bite. The corners of his vision started to gloss over.
Then. A hand gently brushed his jaw. Fingers pressed into his skin. Holding him in place? Making sure he stayed good?
He let out a pathetic cry of fear.
. . .
“Col, Col, I’m so sorry, I can tell you’re scared,” Linden said, as Col’s eyes started to glaze over. He hardened his voice, “Col! Stay with me, sweet, come on. You’re being brave, come on.”
He should just get it over with, he realised, and pushed the toothbrush in. Col started to close his mouth, and Linden gripped a little harder on his jaw. He wanted to at least exhaust all his other options before he physically pulled the boy’s mouth open.
“Keep your mouth open, there we go. Now just hold still.”
I’m giving him orders. But it was the simplest way, it was so quick, it was to help the boy. Linden gritted his own teeth. He could worry about the ethics of it later.
Colton’s teeth weren’t as dirty as he’d feared, and Linden made light work of brushing them down. He checked in on Col every so often. His eyes were still glassy, but he seemed at least half-there.
“You okay?” A small huff of affirmation. “Good. Almost there.”
It felt so strangely intimate, brushing his teeth. As if he hadn’t already seen him stark naked in the damn bath. I dunno, he thought. I’m so close to him. He’s sitting so still. There’s nowhere to run.
He finished up just as a strand of frothy toothpaste started to crest over his lip and drip down his chin, some of it along Linden’s fingers. Col rinsed, scooping the water into his mouth with his hands in a rigid claw shape, and then looked in Linden’s direction for the next order.
“Well done, Col. That was important, and you sat there like a wonderful rock and made it so quick and easy. I’m very- I’m very happy with you. We’ll work on holding the toothbrush, yeah? But for now we can head downstairs and get on with the day.”
Col nodded, a bit dull, but Linden decided not to push him.
. . .
Pet felt himself coming back as soon as he was allowed to close his jaw. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened. It felt as if Master had just brushed his teeth, like he said. And yet-
And yet he was rinsing out his mouth, and the taste wasn’t minty anymore but something far more foul, and he was being told how well he took it, how he made it so easy, how he made Master happy. He was back there because he could never escape, never truly.
Master finished talking, evidently, and turned to leave. Pet trailed after him, his eyes filling with tears, but he managed to keep his shaky breaths quiet. Master was happy with him and Pet’s feelings didn’t matter.
-
first half of the taglist!
@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread
@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate
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gnocchighoul · 4 years
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Scenario: surprising luci by getting up early to make him breakfast uwu
Sometimes, you think that you’ve been cursed.
Logically, you know that you haven’t been, though. Lucifer would have blown a gasket if anyone even attempted to.
No, the only curse wrought upon you is one of your own making. 
Your sleep schedule is the stuff of nightmares. If it wasn’t awful before you lived in the Devildom, it sure as hell is now. Seriously, you could be the poster-child for insomnia. It really only took a few weeks for your body’s internal clock to tick out of wack—now, months later, there’s no hope of salvaging it.
But it’s not like you wanted this to happen! You’ve tried to fix it, but your method of lounging under a stupid sun lamp for a few hours each day wasn’t enough to combat the fucking everlasting night of the Devildom. 
So, yeah. Your sleep schedule is fucked.
Which is why you’re awake in the wee hours of the morning, staring up at the ceiling with bleary eyes while Lucifer sleeps soundly next to you. 
Which, y'know, actually makes this whole insomnia thing a little bit easier to bear. Not to sound like a creep or anything, but you like to watch him sleep.
... Actually that sounded really creepy, hold on.
It’s not like you're some kind of weird voyeur or anything—you hope—it's just nice to see him relaxed, for once. That little concerned notch in his brow finally smoothed over, his shoulders no longer painfully taut. 
He’s hugging his pillow and totally drooling into it. The cat is curled up on the small of his lower back, right above the waistline of his pants, gently kneading his butt in her sleep. Makin’ biscuits out of that ‘tush. 
(Even though he constantly bitches about how Tater Tot’s white hair gets all over everything, those two are inseparable now.)
(He’s so fucking whipped for that cat.)
They’re just so fucking cute and you’re so full of love that if you don’t pour it into something right this instant, your heart is gonna start doing backflips, anatomically impossible or otherwise. You would just attack Lucifer or Tater Tot with your love, but they’re asleep, so unfortunately, you’re in need of a different outlet.
So, just like Tater Tot, you decide that you should go put on your chef hat and surprise Lucifer with breakfast. 
Now you just need to sneak out of bed.
Which is fine. It’s totally fine. You can totally do it. You’re a master of stealth and sneakery. But not like the shoes, more like the secret mission type. Oh yeah, from now on, everyone should just call you 007 with how incredibly sneaky you are. Just a little bit further now, you’ve already got one foot touching the floor, you just need to slooooowly slide your butt off the mattress and—
“Get back here.”
You most certainly do not let out a startled yelp or nearly jump a foot in the air, I dunno who told you that.
...Well, shit. There goes your short-lived dream of being a spy. So long, farewell, adieu. 
“Where are you going?” 
Both Lucifer and the cat are now glaring at you with mirrored expressions of betrayal. You wilt a little bit under the intensity of their gazes.
A bit sheepishly, you rub at the back of your neck. “I was gonna surprise you with breakfast.” 
Tater Tot looks at Lucifer as if to say, Do you hear this shit, Dad? 
Lucifer frowns. You can practically see the cogs in his brain churning away slowly, struggling to cut through the fogginess of sleep. “But it’s Mammon’s day to cook?”
“Well yeah, that’s why it would be a surprise.”
Lucifer makes a face. You’re not sure if it’s meant to be a pout, a grimace, or a glare. Perhaps it’s a poumaceare. 
“Don’t go. I’d rather have you.” 
...Damn.
Well, he doesn’t have to tell you twice, that’s for sure.
You flop back onto the mattress—Lucifer hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you snug up against him, with zero possibility of escape. Even Tater Tot places a vigilant paw on your hip.
Needy children, both of them.
“Really? Even you, Tater Tot?” you huff. 
She meeps at you.
“Don’t respond to that name, Phobos. It’s disrespectful.” Lucifer says, turning his head to look at her. You swear on Mammon’s life that the cat actually nods back at him.
You smack Lucifer’s arm. “Stop trying to put a rift between me and my child, you ass. She loves her name. Isn’t that right, Tater?” 
Your heart swells with pride when your furbaby meows back at you. Lucifer sighs bone deep and drops his head back onto the pillow. He pokes your tummy.
“Don’t be so smug. I can feel it, you know.”
Ah, yes. Pact perks. 
You grin. “We could’ve avoided this if you had just let me surprise you with breakfast.”
He squeezes you like a stress ball. “I don’t care. Go to sleep before I make you.”
There’s a saying that instantly comes to mind—something about not poking at bears. But you don’t really care about ‘wise expressions’, so you just stomp that thought down and do it anyways.
You poke his cheek and say, “Ooo, someone’s feeling spicy~” 
Lucifer smiles at you, wayyyyy too nicely. The pads of his fingertips skating up your chest to press teasingly against your throat, and you think, perhaps it’s time to re-evaluate some of your life choices.
“Do you really wish to find out?” 
...Fuck.
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Top 5 Reasons Doug’s Pretty Great
It’s hard to believe that it’s been nine years since the first episode of S1 was released. I can still remember be a wee little lass first discovering it on youtube and becoming obsessed. At the time, I had no where to play it myself, so I watched as many playthroughs as I could until my family got an xbox. 
While the first episode in this series has a lot of memorable moments, the one that always stands out in people’s memories is the moment where you’re trying to escape the drugstore as walkers pound away at the door and windows, and you realize that both Carley and Doug need your help or they’re going to die. 
But... you can only save one, and whoever you don’t help, they end up being eaten alive by walkers and you get to feel bad about it for the rest of the episode. 
I bring this up because it’s interesting to look back nine years ago and see that... well, not a lot of people saved Doug. Which is crazy, because now the stats are pretty 50/50 with Doug even having a bit of an edge over Carley. That definitely wasn’t the case back then because the stats were more along the line of 20/80.
Why? Well, the writer’s didn’t exactly do the best job of showing how great Doug is in ep1, especially compared to Carley who has more interactions with Lee and more screen time.... which is even funnier because they did actually think they did a good job and were surprised by the results after the episode’s release.
Even back then they had a habit of making imbalanced routes then denying the imbalance... something they never grew out of. 
I guess they were a little butthurt about it since Doug is a favorite among the team given that he’s actually based on a real person, Doug Tabacco, an IT guy they worked with. This got to the point where Telltale never missed an opportunity to tell everyone to #SaveDoug over Carley.
I also love that they use the Stranger to guilt trip everyone who saved Carley by having him be like, “Doug was in a worse position! >:( You only saved Carley because she was a pretty girl!!” just.... real subtle, guys haha
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that more often than not, I choose to save Carley over Doug for many reasons, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate Doug and enjoy having him around in the off chance I do save him. So I thought it’d be fun to talk about Doug as a character and why he was pretty great as a little tribute, y’know? 
5. Doug’s a pretty funny dude
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Now, I wouldn’t exactly call twdg a comedy, y’know? It gets dark, then manages to get even darker at times, but if the game was nothing but doom and gloom, it’d get boring and become unenjoyable. 
While other characters do get a laugh out of me from time to time, I enjoy the humor that Doug brings to the group, even if it’s not intentional and just the way he is. 
Even from the beginning, Doug had me chuckling with the fact that this nerdy dude didn’t want to bring profanity to Lee’s ears when talking about Larry, so he’s just like “ He's kind of a dick... pardon my french,” like Doug.... it’s okay, you can call him an asshole, no one will judge hahaha.
Then there’s the biscuit scene that I think we all know and love. Helps break the tension of meeting these weirdo’s who own a dairy and are totally not suspicious or anything. 
But it’s not even just that Doug is funny, he’s also a character that gets you to crack a smile when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about, or when he’s proud of the alarm he rigged up, or when he’s being adorably awkward. 
One of my favorites is in ep3 when Lee goes to ask Doug if he has any chalk, and he goes into this spiel about charcoal-- “You know, a piece of charcoal is a suitable alternative, depending on your marking surface. Since we're on the subject, did you know that while chalk is traditionally known to be calcium carbonate, what's often used in classrooms is actually made of gypsum, thanks to favorable domestic mining conditions?”
And Lee’s response is just-- “Doug, I did not know that.”
“Happy to be of service.”
It’s just really funny... and it makes you feel better after all the implications about Doug’s mental health in the episode... like you gave him a moment to flex his knowledge and get excited about it. 
But yeah, what can I say? Doug makes me laugh and he brings a bit of light to the groups constant shitshow. 
4. Doug saved the group’s ass at the St John farm
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And he did so with a laser pointer. 
I always hate it when Doug/Carley leave the group at the St Johns and remain absent for most of the episode, though I chalk that up to the writers trying to make the different routes easier on themselves, y’know? 
But, at least they come back to save the day. 
In Doug’s case, he’s not comfortable with guns like Carley is, so he’s gotta get creative when it comes to getting Lee’s attention and stopping Andy from hurting Duck and Lee. 
That’s where his fancy little laser pointer comes in. 
We first see him with it during the walk to the farm, but then see it in action after Lee escapes the barn and is nearly blinded by the light. Doug claims he was doing morse code before Lee tells him and Ben that these assholes cut off Mark’s legs and tried to feed them to the group. 
Now, here’s the thing... If Doug and Ben had done what they were told and stayed at the motor inn over night, things probably wouldn’t have turned out so good for the group. Doug is the one who shines the laser pointer in Andy’s eyes when he’s got ahold of Duck, giving Lee the advantage of attack. Without that, if Lee tried anything, he would’ve ended up like dingdong Kenny with a bullet in his side. 
Also there’s just a lot of bravery from Doug, y’know? Like as soon as he finds Lee and knows the situation, the first thing he asks is what can they do to help, and he sticks around to do what he can.... even if it is just to point a laser in someone’s eye. 
No one gives Doug enough credit for savin’ the day, y’know? And if you have any doubt, even Lee says, “I never thought a laser pointer would be the thing that saved our lives.”
3. Doug’s friendship with Lee
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Speaking of Lee, his friendship with Doug is underrated. The two have chemistry and work off each other well in the scene’s they’re in. While it’s not as strong as Carley’s in ep1, saving Doug and having around in ep2 & ep3 lets you see it at it’s best, y’know? 
After Lee saves his life at the drugstore, Doug is shown to mourn Carley and asks Lee why he would pick him, lamenting that he wished he had picked her over him and you can tell that Doug feels that he owes Lee a lot for saving him. Hell, he even says as much when Lee tries to give him food in ep2-- “Why don't you keep my share today. I know I said it didn't matter why you saved me and not Carley, but... I owe you a lot more than half a day's rations."
Also, I love this one line from Kenny when you’re on bad terms with him and they’re talking about going separate ways where he’s basically like “We all know Doug’s gonna stay with you because you saved him that ONE time >:(” and on top of it being such a bitchy Kenny line, it also shows that every can see that Doug is a loyal friend to Lee and would want to stick with him where ever he decides to go. 
One thing that I think people tend to overlook, though, is how concerned Lee is with Doug’s mental health in ep3. There are implications that Doug might be suffering with depression due to the situation of the walkers, bandits harrassing and threatening them, and believing that he isn’t useful to the group, stating that he feel pretty worthless. Lee asks Clementine if he seems sad, and hell, he even talks to Lilly about it.
In fact, speaking of Clementine, Doug is real sweet with her, too. Of course, he gives her those batteries for her walkie, but he also asks about how she’s doing as they’re leaving the dairy. Hell, 8 years later, Clementine still remembers him by name and how sweet he was when fucking dingdong Lilly can’t remember his damn name. That says a lot. 
Y’all know how important Clementine is to Lee, so he wouldn’t have grown as close to Doug if he wasn’t a genuinely good person who treated Clementine with kindess. 
I dunno, there’s a lot of trust and care between the two and it’s a relationship that I truly love. I just wish we could’ve seen a bit more of it but y’know...#2 happened. 
2. Doug saved Ben’s life
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Yeah, I think we all saw this coming...
Look, doesn’t matter what you think about Ben, okay? Not what we’re talkin’ about. We’re talkin’ about Doug saving Ben’s life, which unfortunately meant ending his own.
Still haven’t forgiven Lilly for this one. Though I’ve always found the difference between Doug and Carley’s death’s interesting. With Carley, Lilly intentionally kills her after Carley tells her off. But with Doug, Lilly was aiming for Ben and even when Doug pulled him out of the way, she still fired the gun... even though she didn’t have a clear shot and ended up hitting Doug. 
Then she tries to play it off like it was an accident which, yeah I guess it was but that doesn’t change that you were intending to murder this 6ft tall child. 
It’s just... I dunno, man, it’s sad. I always feel more sorrow for Doug’s death, but more anger for Carley’s? Even though both make me angry, it’s just different characters, different things that led to their deaths, different feelings. This is the first real “Fuck you, Lilly” moment for me and she can spend the next 8 years wandering around for all I can. 
Doug didn’t deserve this shit. 
But, the reason I put this at #2 because it really says a lot about Doug as a character. The second he saw Lilly aim that gun, he yanked Ben out of the way. He could’ve gone into shock, he could’ve just yelled “no!”, or he could’ve gone at Lilly instead.... but no, his first instinct was to grab Ben and move himself in front and it really fucking sucks that that’s what killed him. 
And y’know this isn’t the first time Doug has put himself in danger to save someone. I already talked about him saving everyone at the dairy, but can we not forget how he and Carley met? She was gonna get eaten by walkers then our big hero Doug came in and saved her?? Didn’t know her or anything, just saw her and her crew getting attacked and did what he could to save any survivors?? 
Like... no one talks about that because it’s so played off and never brought up again and I need everyone to remember this, okay? 
Doug selflessly putting himself in danger to help those around him? Fantastic. Beautiful. Love that.
1. Look, Doug himself is just #1. His personality, intelligence, everything.
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Wow, Doug’s personality being the #1 reason he’s so great? Who woulda thought?
Well, ME woulda thought because obviously.
Listen... in case you haven’t gather this from the previous four entries, Doug is an intelligent, awkward, caring, selfless, funny, and brave man, okay? He’s likable, he tries his damnedest to pull his weight for the group, he shows actual loyalty and kindness unlike some people, and when he tends to avoid the constant Lilly and Kenny conflicts, he does his best to step in when things take a serious turn, hence the Ben situation. 
No to mention the dude is smart. 
I mean, he really took a random remote and was like, “Oh it’s universal, let me just program it to work on ALL the random TV’s across the street as a way to distract these walkers!” like dude.... you just know how to do that, huh? 
Or his fun little bell trap that alerts the groups of strangers and walkers? Oh, and remember when he fixed the RV by hitting it with a fucking hammer and was like “It works now, drive!” 
And have I mentioned that he bested Andy St John with a goddamn laser pointer?? 
Oh, also wanna add that I really like his voice acting, as well. He’s voiced by Sam Joan, who does a good job at selling Doug’s soft-spoken but intelligent nature, and knows how to pull off “dorky” when needed... and I mean that in a good way, when he’s talking about charcoal Doug is being a dork and I love him.
I mean... what else is there to say?
All that’s left to do is pull a Telltale and--
#SaveDoug
---
Honorable Mentions
-Doug is a pie guy, going off of that time he named all the different kinds of pie he could thing of and I feel that.  -He’s a very fashionable person. I want that weird polar bear deer thing shirt he wears in ep1.  -also, you can’t go wrong with socks and sandals, my dude.  -He had a crush on Carley and honestly, I feel that, too. 
---
There it is, there’s my whole thing about Doug. What are your thoughts? When it comes to that choice in ep1 of s1, do you save Doug or do you save Carley? Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.
Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D
Next week’s T5F
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steve0discusses · 3 years
Text
S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again
Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.
Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.
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We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.
Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.
A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.
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(read more under the cut)
Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?
Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?
(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)
Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?
Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.
Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.
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Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.
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After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.
And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.
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He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.
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On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.
I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.
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After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...
...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.
Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.
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Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.
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Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.
I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.
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And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???���
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And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.
This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?
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Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.
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So listen.
Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.
How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?
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I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.
Then these guys all showed up.
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Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?
Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?
Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?
Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.
And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.
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PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.
Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:
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PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.
In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?
But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.
And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.
Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...
Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...
Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)
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the Spreadsheet Virus!
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Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:
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Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?
All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?
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Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?
Joey’s fine.
MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.
And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.
Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.
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Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.
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I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).
Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.
Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.
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So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.
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Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.
Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:
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I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.
Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?
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He um.
Turned the lights off a little bit.
Guys this villain is like...
...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.
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We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going  “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...
...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.
Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...
and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.
Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.
https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono
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teacup-baphomet · 4 years
Text
G/t Drabble (Crash landed on a hostile planet trope but NOT via the a tiny vulnerable human in a planet of mean powerful alien bigs route)
tw: a bit of censored cursing. Uh. I’m not sure what else. Maybe broaching of sensitive tops such as sexuality and religion. But not really. Mostly it’s just rlly dumb word play/lame humor and a confused alien being confused (and kinda freaked/troubled due to the confusion? you’ll see if you read it i guess). there is some sad lorg boi times. idk. no romantic relationships. just a shaky friendship is forming between a crash-landed big-arse alien (a human! *gasp*  i woulda never guessed something as vile as that o: ) and one of the much smaller, very much not human locals. most want to kill the poor dude who got stuck on this planet of hostile lil guys who think he’s a monster and immediately decide they much off him asap. so like having this one ally is kinda important to him. But it’s hard. because. lots reasons rlly. culture differences. the language tech can only do so much. the size diff creates definite issues because trust is hard in general. and trusting a big being that could easily cause havoc on your planet mostly just cuz he /seems/ nice is not a very good foundation... there is much to learn between the two before they can be truly good frens. so uh good luck to them lol *raises glass* I mean. I don’t think I’ll ever write these two again. but I’m sure they’ll end up good friends. probably.
Anyway without further adieu, here have a disappointment (read: attempt to be creative but i’m kinda lazy tbh and still kinda bitter I can’t draw for more than like 10 minutes before I start spacing out :/ )
"We are called humans or the scientific name is homo sapiens" spoke the large alien, Lyle.
"Homo sapiens? That is rather long, is it not? Why is a "scientific name" even a thing? Why would that be necessary? Scientific name versus what kinda name? Emotional name? Why are these science names two words? Seems annoying. What is wrong with just calling yourselves simply homos? Or something else just as nice and concise. Straight to the point if you will. Probably. I... Uh.. I obviously don't know what exactly is the purpose of a scientific name as i already implied... Sooo..." The much shorter – and much scalier- native being (called Torrynts) awkwardly looked off the side to stare at the plain, blank, siding of their dilapidated, isolated house as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire vicinity. Which it wasn’t of course. There was a f***ing alien 15 times their size only a few them-sized lengths way…
 Lyle gave his new comrade – and only friend on this gawdforsaken planet that mostly wants him dead- th pondering, and possibly ironically, rather colourfully scaled Torrynt by the name of Kyvlar a bemused look, bordering on coy.
"Huh. 'Straight' to the point you say?" He paused with a small snort. "Well, my not-so-statuesque friend, do I got news for you~"
Kyvlar suddenly blanched, giving a Lyle a look that was like a knife to the heart while blurting out. "Wait, wait, wait! Hold up! We? There are more than one of you? Here? On this planet? Were you just a distraction the whole time. Oh... Oh no.... Have we really been victim a secret homo invasion this whole time! I-"
 Their panicked monologue was interrupted by a most horrendous noise. Like a slowly dying tornado with the hiccups or something.
"STOP. Stop I-I can't. I can't. This is too much much!" Spoke Lyle with his hand covering the bottom half of his  and his eyes scrunched shut.
 'Welp,' thought the Torrynt, 'This is the end. This is when I die. I should have known better than to immediately put my trust in such an enormous obviously dangerous specimen. Ho-'
 Kyvlar’s dramatic internal speech was interrupted when the alien surprised them by uncovering the his face, revealing a huge grin. ‘They weren't upset? Huh?’ The Torrynt blinked owlishly at the human in confusion.
 "Sh*t, bite-size (Kyvlar noticeably paled at the impromptu nickname not 100% the foreign joking tone, well it would have been noticeable to someone their size at least), I know you don't mean to, context-wise, but you reminded me of my great aunt Karen when my Uncle Todd and Uncle Copper decide to have their friends over along with relatives for a gatherin'."
Plastering on a faux distraught look and blatantly mocking tone, he  continue with exaggerated hand gestures. "Oh no, it's the...the...," he paused with snort, "... the homo invasion... No, no, no... Not here... not in this... this good, Christian neighborhood. Aren't just two of them enough? Oh woe is me!" The alien dropped the mocking tone and smirked towards the smaller being. "Heh. Good ol' great aunt Karen could never remember Uncle Todd was Jewish and so was the majority of that neighborhood.... It’s where my Uncle Todd was raised actually…"
 The said smaller being just stared blankly at the homo-no-human they supposed as just “homo” meant something else, they weren’t sure what else, beyond just something else.
 "Uhhm. Wh-what? U-Uhm, so what exactly is “homo” then? And what’s Christian? And Jewish too. What’s that? Are... Are those other types of -uh- intelligent, sentient creatures on your planet? Y-you know, b-beside hom-er-h-humans? Or are these subtypes of humans? What kinda are you? What is a great aunt? or Uncle? Does the great indicate a larger size? Oh gawd, a-aren't you humans b-big enough regularly? Oh... W-wait. O-or are you a great- uhm- great aunt, was it? E-er, g-great something? Ohhh. Zyntall (Torrynt swear). I'm sooo confused r-right now... " The timid tiny being, sighed in frustration before their eyes snapped open wide in a panic, and they did an immediate one-eighty with their behavior, and it was off all their previously trust, as wavering as it was, vanished in an instant, squeaking out a quick "sorry. oh, Z-zyntall... I'm so-so-sooo sorry. I-I hope I d-didn't offend y-you or anyth-thing... p-please, oh please, don't hurt me" while gazing everywhere except towards the much larger alien, hoping desperately the 'bite-size' nickname was just a bad joke...
 Clearly they not only didn't get what so hilarious about the whole thing but also thought he was a monster prone to violence – still. Lyle sighed, all the mirth that was previously in his expression draining out of him leaving him with an uncomfortable grimace on their face. How disappointing... They really wish there was another human here to share in the jesting. But alas, that was not meant to be. At least as far as they knew there was no "homo invasion" in the making. Lyle wasn’t naïve. He knew humans were easy to slip into a gray moral state, at best. The role of villains at worst. And many of his kind would likely take advantage of a planet full of tiny, vulnerable people. Lyle couldn’t help but inwardly cringe at the thought, getting nervous about something that wasn’t an issue. At least now. Currently, human-wise, it was just him on this distant planet. And as far as he knew, no one - well, no other human at least- had any clue where they were. It probably just seemed he simply disappeared. Never to be seen again most likely. Trapped on this random alien planet in scenario that is akin to some sort of a personal hell of sorts.
'Wow. Hello, major depressive episode that’s making me overly dramatic. I haven't seen you since I was - what - eighteen?' thought Lyle regretfully. Calling this planet a personal hell was probably a bit over the top. But still, he couldn’t even seem to keep the trust of his single native ally. It only adds to his feelings of lonely isolation. And he feared his lonely angst will only get worse and worse. But only time will tell.
Giving a small sigh, he mentally prepped himself to try and get back his small friend’s trust. At least he was able to laugh for a wee bit earlier. It had been so long since he had done such. It was nice. Hopefully next time it will not lead to a backtracking in his attempted friendly ships with an open local, or even worse, a hostile local. The little laser guns that native being had stung like a b*tch. It reminded him when he got bit a couple times by some fire ants during a vacation as a child.
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So yeah these were rando improvised characters made on the spot.
But Lyle is a guy (he/him. He’d be chill with they/them too)
And Kyvlar is… a Torrynt. So like they/them I guess. Torrynts don’t have genders. Like at all. I guess they hermaphroditic (intersex if talking by human terms but not really as they are capable of reproduction and they aren’t human so… I dunno… Not even sure if hermaphrodite is a useful term. As idk if hermaphroditic animals, in nature, are capable of reproduction… I don’t think so? But I’m not sure tbh…). There is no variants like there are with human “sex”. And male/female concepts are 200+% foreign to these wee reptile-like aliens (albeit warm-blooded minded, so perhaps more draconian than reptilian idk. Also aliens being described as reptilian gives me hives due to a conspiracy theory that is like super bigoted actually n’ stuff. Very yikes. Don’t want to talk it about it rlly…). Their reaction would def be “wtf. That’s the weirdest sh*t ever” to such a thought as male n female binary dynamics & whatnot. No exceptions. They’d be like why a lot of you guys limiting yourself because of whether or not you are a potential offspring vessel or not. I don’t understand.
So Yeah. Uh. Anyways.
Their conversation about this prolly (or close to this):
Lyle: Hi. I’m Lyle. Just some random dude form Earth I guess.
Kyvlar: a random dude what?
Lyle: uh. I’m a dude. I guess I meant that I’m a boy though dudes don’t really have to be boys I think. But not to derail too much… Yeah. I’m a man/guy/boy/brosef, whatever you wanna call the male gender. Please not by brosef actually, heh. Anyway. Yep. A boy. That is what I am. Uh. How about you. I can just tell… you ….you have uhm two legs. Oh damn. Wait. That sounded so stupid. I wouldn’t assume your gender or anything. I just… You don’t look exactly human so..uh. UGH. Nevermind. I don’t even know where I was going with that... Heh. ANYWAY, so yeah what’s your gender is what I’m trying to say. Sorry I’m awkward as f***. I’m not used to socializing much. Been doing deep space sh** on my own for a few years now and.. uh.. yeahhhh….
Kyvlar: *stares blankly*
Lyle: Uh. Yeah. So. A Gender? Do you, uhm, have one? Or…????
Kyvlar: Uh. I think so? I mean I’m mostly a day-by-day I’ll figure it out then type but I, I really want be able to fix my home up. I want to learn to cook. Kinda suck at it now. Uhm. I guess… Uh. I should probably help you get on good terms with my people so they stop trying to kill you. You seem nice n’ stuff… so yeah. There’s that. I could use a little more purpose in my life. Not to-
Lyle: wait. Huh? What are you talking about? Are you talking about an agenda?
Kyvlar: Yes????
Lyle: *snorts* I didn’t say an agenda. I said a gender. As in A. Gen. Durr. Like are male or female or maybe something off the typical binary track??
Kyvlar: Uh. Er. Huh??? I, I’m so confused right now…
Lyle: Hooo boy. I’m so not prepared for this discussion at all.
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One of these days I’m gonna have a character that’s silver-tongue and smooth af and not some bumbling awkward doofus (*cough* like I am *cough*).
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axther · 4 years
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hey lover!
They walked with the Universe on their shoulders, and made it look like wings. 
tamaki amajiki x gender neutral!eldritch abomination!reader
a/n: thank you so much to the wonderful wonderful @what-the-censored-xd​ and @pixxiesdust​ for being my beta readers!! and thank you to @v0mpy​ for requesting!! finally, a story where the love interests actually get together and stay together 🥴
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Sweet was the light that beyond the window breaks.
Tamaki Amajiki knew this well. Said light was always coming from the side of his best friend’s room, illuminating the side of their face. Sometimes, it didn’t need to, their own radiance showing, or maybe the light of a dual monitor system. Their eyes would flick left and right, smiling softly at the spiralling chat on the bottom right corner, as they conquered kingdoms. Their hands were fast and sharp, tapping and flying across the keyboard with a vengeance, and when they won a battle, they would lean back with a satisfied sigh. Maybe there was a streak of paint on their arms, and in spare moments, they would try to rub it off. And in even sparser seconds, they would look at Tamaki on their bed and give a sweet smile. 
YN LN. The love of Tamaki’s life.  
YN didn’t necessarily know that, though. Tamaki made absolutely sure they had no clue, short of him blushing when they were around. But since they knew him since he was a child, they easily brushed it off as him simply being...him. 
In the late nights where the darkness was overwhelming and his thoughts were too loud, he would sneak into their dorm and watch them play in the wee hours of the morning. He would take in the scent of paint, the faceless worlds on their walls, trapped on canvas or paper. It felt almost surreal. And as he would watch them, he would wonder. Was he enough? Would he ever be enough? 
Ah, but those were the late nights. The nights would bleed into days, light breaking through other windows, and YN would move from their desk into a wide room, with brick walls on three sides and floor-to-ceiling windows on the other, like a gilded cage. And YN would paint, colours of every kind sweeping across the racks of canvases, paints sliding and paints, prying off the brushes into something unfathomable. And Tamaki would watch them until the sun was done rising and the early morning fog would clear. 
Sometimes, he wondered. YN had never shown a quirk nor spoken of one. They were enigmatic in all the best ways, ways that snared and contained Tamaki like a blanket. They never judged him, never differed. They were effortlessly elegant, accidentally regal, casually divine. They created and destroyed as they pleased, and none could stop them. Sometimes when they spoke, their eyes would seefade into worldsthoughts of a world that Tamaki couldn’t even begin to fathom. YN rarely spoke of home, but when they did, it was a dark place that they could only spit harsh, short words of. Thatere was something deep that Tamaki didn’t dare touch, lest he watch their friendship crumble before his eyes. 
Tamaki loved them. And it could destroy him at any moment, in a single, breathless second. 
He never wanted that second to come, but like most things in his life, disaster loved him. That second answered all his questions, all the wondering if he was enough. It all came to a halt as the world froze, and he knew.
He wasn’t enough.
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“It’s done!” 
YN stood in front of a massive canvas that stretched above them, resting their hands on their hips in satisfaction. Their accent rang through their pride, and paint was everywhere on them, but they had a small grin on their face. Tamaki was behind them, staring up at the work with quiet horror. 
Before him was what could only be labelled as a monstrosity. It was pure chaos, with deep blues and greens swirling across it like the sea had risen to the earth and taken a sturdy form. There were yellow and lime green fires cast across it, thick billows of smoke rising to the top of the canvas. The main centrepiece was like a horrible streak of blood: a creature in the middle, a tall, mutilated, spectral creation. It had ribs, Tamaki could tell that much, but too many, and they were hanging out and contorting it’s entire torso. It looked up into the sky of chaos, and he could almost hear the cry from it’s nonexistent mouth. 
“It’s incredible,” he whispered in awe. He took a tentative step forward and YN glanced at him. 
“You think so? I’m sure it could be better, but to be honest, I’ve been working on this for months.” They glanced up at it again before turning to Tamaki. “What do you really think?” 
“It’s so…” hHe hesitated, staring right at the creature. It wasn’t so terrifying up close, but instead seemed to be mourning. “It’s so sad.” 
It came out as little more than a reverent whisper, but YN’s raised eyebrows said enough. 
“Really?” 
“I-! I’m sorry!” Tamaki recoiled his hand, not even realising that he had been reaching forward. “If that wasn’t what you were going for, then I’m probably wrong!” 
“No, no.” YN paused, tilting their head. “That’s exactly what I was going for. I just...didn’t think you’d pick it up. Most people don’t.” 
“Huh?” Tamaki looked at them with wide eyes and a flush. “W-Well! Then it’s...it’s great!” 
“Nice.” YN nodded, though it seemed more like they were musing. “I’m glad, then.” They turned to grab a rag, wiping their hands. Tamaki’s eyes flickered across the entire canvas, trying to take in as much as he could when he noticed a figure in the bottom middle of the canvas. He tilted his head. 
“Who’s that?” 
YN turned, curious, before realising what he was eyeing. They faltered, turning back around. 
“It’s nothing. Just...just something extra.” 
“Oh.” Tamaki stepped back. “What are you going to work on next?” 
“I dunno,” YN shrugged. “I need to get more supplies, but after that, it’s kinda up in the air.” 
Tamaki nodded. “Okay.” 
He wished he could say more, but all he could think of was the small, kneeling figure before the great calamity. They looked so hopeless, so pleading.
And quite suddenly, the painting didn’t seem to be about the monster after all.
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Tamaki was walking with YN down an open mall, watching them glance at shops and talk about their latest work. There were lights strung about, and sparse boards served as a makeshift room, letting the sunlight soak through. It was neither busy nor empty, with people scattered about. YN was in step with Tamaki, sighing. 
“I, uh, wanted to encompass…” YN waved their hands about, trying to tie their words to their thoughts. They couldn’t seem to focus on one thing until Tamaki ever so gently began pulling them towards a corner store with mock paint splatter along the walls. YN didn’t resist, instead electing to still try and speak their mind. 
“It’s like, this thing. It’s really...opaque.” They paused, pursing their lips. “That doesn’t make sense.” 
“I can try...to help you get it out…” Tamaki murmured, watching a couple point at a bright blue paint through the glass of the doors. “Do you have the...the basic idea?” 
“No,” YN snorted. “I just know it’s...dark. Angry.” 
“Angry?” Tamaki glanced back at them, daring to raise a concerned eyebrow. “Why...why angry?” 
“I dunno.” YN’s eyes grew dark for a second, unfocusing like they were somewhere else, when a distant rumble echoed through the road. Both turned toward the sound alongside most of the civilians, and Tamaki grew stiff.
“What was that?” YN murmured, a casual curiosity on their face. “Thunder?” 
Tamaki stepped in front of them. “That wasn’t thunder.” 
There was a moment of pure, thick tension, a tension that was palpable and making the hairs on the back of Tamaki’s neck rise, and YN put a hand on his shoulder. They opened their mouth to say something, but Tamaki stared down the cobblestone road with an unblinking stare. There was movement, barely any, and Tamaki gave a shuddering blink. 
Then, it hit like a mule kick. 
There was a tsunami of pure air, rushing forth in an uncontrollable tide. The lights flailed in the wind and civilians were shoved back down the street. Tamaki managed to nearly throw YN into the store before getting flung into a candy shop sign, yelping when the collision made his spine pop. As he gathered his breath, he used his quirk to manifest tentacles, staring straight ahead. 
A man strutted forward, oozing confidence, purple hair pulled high in a winding ponytail. When one civilian shakily tried to dial 119, he raised his fist in a sharp motion. A square column shot from the ground and fired the poor woman into the air. It was almost comical, how she was there and then she wasn’t, but Tamaki rushed forward and caught her, placing her gently on the ground before facing the man. The man stood for a minute, letting the remaining civilians clear before focusing on Tamaki. 
“Where,” the man droned. “Are your heroes, boy?” 
Tamaki narrowed his eyes, wondering if the woman’s call went through. He looked over at her, only to see YN standing over the woman in a protective stance. YN glanced back periodically at Tamaki with worried eyes. He glanced back, only to see the man was much closer that he had anticipated, maybe only a yard away. Tamaki was tempted to leap back, but the man stood right before the glass windows of the paint shop, and Tamaki’s nerves were steeled. 
YN was there. YN was there. YN was there. 
“What is your name, boy?” The man growled. Tamaki kept his mouth sealed, keeping eye contact with the man’s blue eyes. “I am Yigrallas Initi, son of the Great Yoson. I have come to seek out revenge on my father’s killer by destroying the world they hold so dear.” 
None of it made a lick of sense to Tamaki, but he realised that Initi had an accent he could place. It was the same accent YN had, the one that no one could pin the location of. He narrowed his eyes. 
“I won’t give you the chance.” 
Tamaki began rushing Initi, just hoping to get him away from the paint shop, and Initi waved a gloved hand. The earth beneath Tamaki spun and he nearly ran across the entire street before righting himself and seeing Initi turn and face Tamaki. He realised that thank god, Initi was looking away from the paint store. YN was inside, ushering the woman, spare customers, and workers into the backroom or under the counter. They stood near the back door, narrowing their eyes at Initi. 
“Do not get distracted, boy.” Initi raised his fist again, but before Tamaki could be rocketed by the stone under his feet, he skipped to the side and narrowly missed a rock to the jaw. Initi growled. 
“You are a fleeting one.” 
It began a dance; Tamaki leapt back and forth, trying to avoid the wind and rocks that Initi tried shooting his way. It was strange how Initi seemed to only be mildly annoyed the entire time, but Tamaki didn’t think too hard on it. 
That was a lie. He thought about it-a lot. 
Was Initi planning something? Were there others? Where were the actual, licensed heroes? Were they even coming? Tamaki thought enough that he was too slow, getting smacked with a boulder the size of an outdoor table. Initi let out a laugh. 
“The little bird touches the earth,” Initi mused, watching Tamaki fall to the pavement. Tamaki’s head was spinning. The rock hit much harder than he anticipated and made him go still for a moment. Everything echoed, like Initi’s footsteps, his chuckles, the bell. 
The bell? 
Tamaki managed to open his eyes and saw YN storming out of the paint shop with a fury in their eyes. 
“Tama!” 
Initi stopped approaching Tamaki and turned. YN’s eyes met Initis’, and there was an instant look of horrified confusion. Initi’s eyes widened, impossibly so, before a ferocious glare glare overtook his face.
“Z’ythras.” He growled. 
“Yigrallas,” They hissed. 
“You killed my father,” Initi’s voice plummeted, and his hand made a choking motion towards YN. They cooly stepped to the side and avoided the plume of fire from Init’s palm. 
“He deserved it,” They reared up, putting both hands before them like they were planning to punch the villain. 
“He did nothing!” Initi howled and ran towards YN. Tamaki tried to protest, but his voice was stuck in his throat, and he smelled blood. 
“He destroyed everything I loved!” YN’s face was uncharacteristically enraged, running right into Initi and socking him in the nose. He yelped, grabbing a handful of their hair and dragging the both of them to the ground. It was straight, raw, hand-to-hand combat, and Tamaki watched in awe as YN held their own against Initi. 
“He hunted demons. Demons like you!” Initi managed to spit out, before straddling YN and placing his hands around their throat. 
“You…” YN was choking, trying to pry his hands away and kicking him in the stomach. “You have no idea...what he did…!” 
“You killed him!” Initi dug his nails into the meat of YN’s arm and used his spare hand to grip their ribs. “You murderer! My father was a good man, and he ended the plague of-of!” Initi didn’t get to finish his sentence when YN picked up a piece of rubble and smashed it into his face. There was a streak of blood and dust of Initi’s face and YN scrambled away, towards Tamaki, who was still trying to get up. Initi grabbed their foot, though, and they slammed into the cobblestones. There was a groan, and then Initi climbed back onto YN and began choking them, slamming their head with as much force as Initi could muster.  
“You served them! They did nothing but kill and destroy, and you served them willingly! You must die!” 
Then, there was silence. 
Initi stared down at YN, and Tamaki tried to yell. They were completely still, and there was something leaking from behind their head and staining the bricks. It wasn't red, but a gaudy silver that was only there for a moment before disappearing into the air. 
YN was dead. 
Tamaki wasn’t enough. 
He felt his heart stop and a white-hot rush in his blood. Tears swelled forth, and thought the blur, Initi looked at his hands with shock. The man didn’t seem to even know what he did, standing with a gasp. It was all so suffocating, seeing YN’s still corpse and knowing that he would never hear them again. It was a horrible, quiet peace that made Tamaki choke on his own sobs. 
Initi looked at Tamaki, and slowly began stumbling towards him. Tamaki felt such a deep hatred for the purple blob in his eyes, and wanted nothing more than to crush it. 
Then, there was a whisper. 
Initi stopped, and the tears fell from Tamaki’s eyes. It was enough that he could see someone writhing on the ground behind Initi. The man turned, and let out a gasp. 
There were two YNs, and one YN rose like a puppet cut from it’s strings, breathing like they were starved for air. Their head was back in a way that seemed almost painful, until it snapped forward. The other YN-the corpse-melted like red goo until the skeleton was the only thing left and it rose, standing perfectly behind YN. The ground around them began shifting, until chunks of the pavement were uprooted, and five more skeletons crawled from the dark dirt, bugs and filth clinging to the yellowed bones. There was a second, a brief, imperceptibly chaotic and still at the same time. 
The perfect eye of the storm. 
Then, YN’s voice leaked through while they still faced the pavement. It wasn’t the sweet, kind voice Tamaki knew, but a sound like a thousand angry hornets if they could speak at once. It made his entire body freeze in horror. 
“Sixty five million, three hundred and forty  thousand, and five hundred and sixty minutes.” YN paused and sighed heavily. “Five hundred and sixty-one. One hundred and twenty two years, seven months, and twenty four days.” 
YN looked up, and their eyes were a startling pitch black with bleeding red pupils. They didn’t even seem to see Tamaki, tunnel vision focused on Initi. The skeletons, which had been looking down, snapped their heads up to look at Initi. 
“I am considered young for my kin. We are ageless in infinite chaos. Possessive of everything and nothing. We are the rulers of the empty voids. Your father destroyed my home and peoples for sport and was killed by the Ancient Laws, written by Father Dragon and Mother Hydra. I killed Yoson Godslayer. I am Z’ythras, the Last Great Old One, and you have hurt my love.” 
At once, Initi let out a horrified yell as the skeletons ran at him, almost on all fours. It was frankly terrifying, a suffering, malicious vision of Initi being ripped to shreds. His screams were miserable but Tamaki could only focus on YN. They turned to Tamaki, brows furrowed, and ran to him. He tried to whimper something, anything, but YN simply cradled his head and blocked the bloodshed. 
“Sleep, my love. All will be well.” 
And all Tamaki saw was darkness. 
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When Tamaki woke up, he was screaming. 
He was in a cold sweat, gripping at blankets and anything he could see. He felt overloaded, terrified, until the door opened (there was a door?) and YN walked in. They smiled in the comforting way they always did, and Tamaki relaxed. 
“Bad dream?” They murmured, tucking some of Tamaki’s stray hair behind his ear. He panted, but the burning in his lungs was quelling. He started rambling, eyes darting across YN’s guest room. 
“Y-Yeah! You died, and there was this man, and-and he was after you, and there were skel…” 
Tamaki looked at the open door and saw not one, not two, but six skeletons, all curiously edged around the door like puppies. But if they were puppies, Tamaki would’ve been fine. Instead, he began choking on his breath again, and YN grabbed his face. 
“Tama, focus. Focus. You’re okay. They’re not going to hurt you.” YN looked both concerned and humoured, and one of the skeletons jostled the other in what seemed to be embarrassment. 
“Then-then-then you-and he-and they-and you-” 
“Just take a second, Tama.” YN soothed. “Breathe. I can explain once you’re calmed down.” 
It took Tamaki more than a second, but he was able to breathe normally, and if he kept his eyes on YN, he wouldn’t be able to see the skeletons in the corner. 
“So…” Tamaki gulped. “What…?” 
“Everything you’re going to hear is going to be…” YN hesitated. “Unbelievable. Absolutely insane.” 
They stood and turned, tugging their shirt up just the slightest. Heat flushed Tamaki’s cheeks, but he noted a sticky-looking spiderweb pentagram tattoo. It had the All Seeing Eye in the middle, and he tilted his head. YN glanced back. 
“I am not human. I might’ve been, at one point, but I can’t remember. I am part of a race of gods called the Great Old Ones.” 
“You said...that they were dead.” Tamaki winced at the words, and YN lowered their shirt. 
“Yes. I am the last one.” 
“And that the guy, his dad…” 
“Killed them. The Great Old Ones…we were powerful. Divine. Horrifyingly ethereal. We were the ultimate hunt. And Yoson was the ultimate hunter. He sought us out, and for the first time in millenia, someone managed to kill one of the Great Old Ones. But Yoson wasn’t satisfied.” YN’s eyes went dark, and Tamaki searched through them. There was nothing but ageless regret. “He went after all of them. I wasn’t there when it happened. I was on Earth actually. Here. But when I came back, it was all up in blue and yellow smoke. My father, he was the last one to be killed. And I saw him standing there, mourning for my mother.” 
“Then the painting…” Tamaki baulked. “That was your father?!” 
“Mhm.” YN hummed, sighing. “I was the only Great Old One that couldn’t be inherently killed, so Yoson went after me. And since the Ancient Laws, written by our-my forbears said that it was perfectly reasonable to fight back, I did.” 
“Did he...kill you?” 
“Oh, yes.” YN hummed again, looking both miffed and satisfied. “Four times. The fifth, I got hit by a car. The sixth, of course, was Yoson’s son. Who, naturally, is dead. Like father, like son, I suppose.” 
“And…” Tamaki glanced at the skeletons. One waved timidly, and there was some more jostling. 
“They follow me around, unless I want to be discreet. I didn’t want to scare you.” 
“You and the villain, you two had...have the same accent.” 
“He was raised on the ruins of my home, I suppose. Yoson was from there, too.” 
“And you…” Another furious flush rose on Tamaki’s cheeks, and YN tilted their head. 
“You called me your lover?” 
YN’s eyes went wide, and the skeletons froze. Four dashed away, one slunk behind the door, and the last literally collapsed into a pile of bones. YN themselves were bright red, scratching the back of their neck and looking away. 
“Aha, well, that was...I mean, if you don’t want to, then it’s okay! But I know...it’s, uh…” YN trailed off, nervous for the first time that Tamaki had seen. Someone who was an immortal god, levelled to a blushing flower. Some he loved, blushing for him. 
“Am I dreaming?” Tamaki pinched himself, and YN sat up. 
“Oy! Don’t hurt yourself more!” One of the skeletons (the one behind the door) nodded fervently with YN’s cry. 
“But you’re really...you love me?” Tamaki pointed at himself. “Well…” YN paused, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.” 
There was a moment, but unlike all the others, it was kind. It was soft and gentle, like staring at the stars on a clear summer night. Tamaki’s heart pounded through his stomach. 
“Well, I-! I like you, too!” He nearly hollered it, but YN lit up like a tree again. 
“Then do you wanna be, like...dating?” “Y-Yes! Please!” He leaned forward. “And does that mean we…! Can we!” He couldn’t finish his sentence, he was too nervous, but YN smiled. 
“You wanna kiss?” 
There was a rattle and all the skeletons were back at the door again, but Tamaki ignored it in favour of staring intently at YN’s lips. He gulped and nodded. They leaned closer, ever closer, and Tamaki’s heart raced, and it was like he was going to have a heart attack. 
Then their lips met, and it all paused, and suddenly, this one moment made up for the bad ones. 
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sunflwrvolume6 · 3 years
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to the end [pt 42] fin.
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Poor man was outnumbered - on one side, a mother who loves his wife almost more than she loves her son, and on the other, a wife who has cried nearly every hour of every day for the past six days. In my defence, my baby is a year old now.
[ao3 ☆ wattpad]
[previous ☆ masterlist]
For the seventh time this morning, I take one look at my son and promptly burst into tears. Declan stares at me with wide eyes, then his lower lip starts quivering. He cries along with me. I scoop him up and hold him to my chest, still blubbering.
“Fucking Hell, Erin, knock it off.”
“I can’t!” Sniffling, I let Amber take Dec from my arms, and she turns away immediately. He’s giggling again in seconds. “My baby’s one now.”
“C’mon, pet, we can commiserate together.”
I stick my tongue out at my best friend before following Maura into the kitchen. Niall had told me to relax today - mostly because I can’t stop tearing up every time I look at Declan - and I’ve done my best to do just that. It’s hard, though. All I want to do is take over on the decorating.
Harry forced me from the living room the first time I tried. Zayn, having made a rare appearance in our lives, threatened to throw me into the pool the second time I tried - he followed through when I protested. Liam swatted my ass the third time I tried. And Louis... Louis did the worst: He vowed to withhold any and all coffee if I didn’t go away.
The only reason I didn’t attack him was because Maura and Niall intervened. The fact my mother-in-law knows of my love of caffeine (decidedly not an addiction, despite what my husband says) is hilarious. She’s been quick to get me coffee first thing in the morning. She even scolded Niall when he tried to tell me I needed to cut back over the last week.
Poor man was outnumbered - on one side, a mother who loves his wife almost more than she loves her son, and on the other, a wife who has cried nearly every hour of every day for the past six days. In my defence, my baby is a year old now.
Declan is no longer a wee thing. He feeds himself solid foods, and he even took his first steps just a few days ago. His personality is beginning to shine through. The only time he’s quiet is when he’s watching Phineas and Ferb. He still sleeps in bed with Niall and me most nights, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. We have a guest room if we ever want what we’ve come to call ‘adult time’.
His first word - to my utter displeasure - wasn’t “Mama”. It wasn’t even “Dada”. It was “Nana” after all the FaceTime calls with Maura. Thankfully, “Mama” was next. Niall took it like a champ, but I caught him dozens of times coaching the baby to say “Da”. It was only three months ago that Declan finally did. Niall cried.
I lean against the counter and sip at my tea. Ever since my pregnancy, I’ve actually cut back a bit on coffee, minus the last week, and Maura has recommended so many delicious teas. My favourite one at the moment tastes like Hot Tamales candies. She sits at the table and watches her son cross the room.
“I still can’t believe he got a tattoo,” she remarks once he’s out on the patio, and I snort.
“Neither can I.”
Niall hadn’t told his parents of his plans beforehand, but they certainly found out when I pinned him to the bed the day after I came home. He was half-naked and had expected something else, not me grabbing my phone and taking a photo of his chest. As soon as I sent the picture off with a Your son broke his own rule!, I gave in and gave him what he wanted.
Maura had called that afternoon demanding an explanation. Evidently, Niall had chosen to get the tattoo because I’d been talking about getting a tattoo of Dec’s name if he would. He’d kept saying ‘no’, but then Matt did what he did. Niall figured it would make me feel better.
I was in the nearest parlour two days later, watching as needles left inked kisses on my chest. I even got the Irish version of Declan’s name to match Niall’s perfectly.
Natalie announces her presence with a shout of “Monster is here!” Levi toddles into the kitchen, followed closely by his mother, and I lean down to scoop him up. Peppering his cheek with dozens of kisses, I inhale the scent that only a child can have. Amber stole my baby, so I’m stealing Nat’s.
The exhaustion on her face tells me she doesn’t mind a damn bit. I stifle a giggle then tap a finger against the coffeemaker. She lets out a long, low groan and kisses my cheek as she passes.
“Thanks for coming, Natty. I appreciate it.”
She pins me with an unimpressed look. “Dude, it’s my little chipmunk. Why wouldn’t I come?”
“I dunno, maybe you had other—”
“Gonna stop you there, Casper.” Natalie throws an arm around my shoulders, tugging me into her side. “Your anxiety is lying to you. Not a damn person in this house would rather be anywhere than right here celebrating Dec’s birthday.”
“My baby’s one,” I mumble, sniffling and wiping a stray tear away.
Before anyone can say a word, Levi grabs my cheeks with two chubby hands and presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the tip of my nose. I splutter out a protest but can’t stop laughing. I love kids so much; they always know how to cheer someone up. Even if I do end up with toddler slobber in my nostrils.
Maura, Natalie, Amber, and I take the boys out onto the patio for some last-minute sunshine before the party begins. And because the men have all but kicked me out of the house until they’re done decorating. I have to be thankful that Niall is just as particular about placement as I am.
My parents and half-siblings arrive an hour later. Jonna stomps through the house, dropping to sit in a chair on the patio, and I glance up my mom. She only shrugs.
“Dad took her phone because she snuck out of the house.”
“I only went to the park with Andrea!” my half-sister protests.
“Jonna!” I scowl at the teenager before winking quickly. “Haven’t I taught you a damn thing about not getting caught?”
“Erin!”
Jonna’s anger melts, and soon enough, she joins in on the conversation. When we go inside and my mother’s back is turned, I slip Jonna the phone I bought for her to use when she’s here but grounded from electronics. Our parents should really expect less of me - I’m always going to go against what they say if I think it’s unfair. Sneaking out and getting in trouble for it?
Definitely unfair.
All she’d done was hang out with a friend past curfew. I did so much worse when I was her age. Namely, sneaking into bars with lax rules and playing gigs to a bunch of drunks with my friends.
Niall finally deems the decorations appropriate for a good party, and everyone gathers in the living room. As I sit beside my husband, our one-year-old on his lap, I watch our closest family and friends celebrate the momentous occasion with us. My heart aches with the love I hold for these crazy, silly, amazing people who make my life Hell and Heaven wrapped in one.
Only a year ago, I was struggling with being a new mother. I felt alone and isolated from everyone I cared about. I drowned in the idea that they would all be better without me. But I’ve made it an entire year, and everything has settled. I know I can do this. I can be a daughter, a wife, a sister, and - most importantly of all - a mother to the most amazing little boy I’ll ever love.
And if Nat bought my kid a drum-set and play-microphone that plays children’s songs, how can I be angry?
This is my life. It will be to the end.
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fanficwriter013 · 5 years
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The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 16
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The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic
Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)
Word Count: 3613
Warnings: 
Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.
Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.
Author’s Note:  Written with @avengerscompound​ (insert witty comment here.)
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Chapter 16: Reunited
Our moment of relaxed contentment didn’t last too long.  By the end of the same day, Thor had come clean about the Fenestare, which had led to a long argument about whether it was okay to even participate in a battle to the death, how dangerous it was, and how it put the rest of us at risk too.
Tony wanted to leave.  Even the tiniest risk to the kids’ safety and he was on edge.  And so far there had been a lot of those.  Steve wasn’t so sure if we should leave.  If Thor was so determined to do this, he wanted to be there to support him.  He was very vocal about the fact that he did not think Thor should do it on moral terms.
Nothing was changing Thor’s mind though, so we spent the following day, highly strung as he prepared for the fight.  Tony dragged Steve to the lab to finish the bots and Thor had made me and the kids follow him around all day.  They were tired and cranky as we went back to his royal chambers.  Pietro was curled up in my arms and Riley was throwing herself around in Thor’s rather dramatically when Sif stormed in.
“Why was I informed, immediately upon arrival that there is going to be a Fenestare?”  She asked, squaring up to Thor and poking him in the chest.  “It’s like this place doesn’t function when I’m not here.”
I couldn’t even pretend I cared about what Sif had to say about the Fenestare.  I was too excited she was back.  If she was back it meant the others might be here too.  “Did you bring them?”
“Yes,” Sif said.  “I took them to your chambers.  They are settling in.”
I whined and looked at Thor.  He handed me Riley and pressed a kiss to my forehead.  “Volstagg, could you please escort the Lady Elise to the others.”
“Of course,”  Volstagg said and gestured to the door.
“And I will stay here and attempt to slap some sense into our King,” Sif said.
I followed Volstagg down to our chambers carrying both the kids and when I stepped inside I found them all looking high strung and pacing the room.
“You’re going to need to explain what’s going on fast,” Wanda said.  “I’m starting to lose them.”
“Hey, hey, hey,”  I said putting the kids down.  They both immediately started bouncing and jogging on the spot like they wanted to run to the rest of their family but couldn’t decide who they should run to first.  “Why do you guys always have to go so negative?”
“Because an alien shows up, demands we all come here, and the mind-reader immediately jumps on board,” Natasha said folding her arms in front of her.  “That’s suspicious.”
“Can one of you indicate to your kids to come to them, they’re about to explode,” I said.  “The rest of you take a seat.”
“Who wants Daj?”  Wanda asked crouching down and opening her arms.  Riley charged over to her and slammed into her.  I crouched and pointed to Clint and Pietro ran over to him and immediately started scaling him.
Almost everyone took a seat in the couches.  Bucky, Natasha, and Bruce couldn’t seem to settle though, and the three of them kept pacing the room.
“Okay… so, there’s been a little descension here that Thor was unaware of the extent of.  A section of his people believe he was too young for the job, but originally there was no other choice but him or Loki and he was the preference.  So they would make him jump through hoops and he’d do it.  Only now a faction claiming there are two older siblings.  They believe that the firstborn son should be ruling and not Thor and are causing some trouble.  A few things have happened.”  I explained as I sat forward on the couch.
“There’s a what?”  Natasha asked.
“Brother.  Though there has been no actual sign of him.  There is a claim he was kidnapped and raised by the rulers of one of the other realms in the hope to put him in charge of Asgard and then they would rule the nine realms.”  I answered.
“You said some things happened?”  Bucky asked.  He was flexing his metal hand and looked as close to being the soldier as I’d seen him in a long time.
“There was an attempt to kidnap and murder Riley and I,” I said.  “A guard and a woman from that other realm attacked us.”
“And where are they now?”  Bucky asked in a completely flat and rather terrifying tone.
“In prison.  Loki has been dealing with them.”
“I want to see them.” Bucky seethed looking at the door.
“That is not a good idea,” Loki said, coming into the room followed by Fandral.
“It’s also not why you’re here,”  I added.
Bucky wheeled back to me.  “What?  There’s more?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod.  “It’s about the hoops he’s having to jump.  Right now he’s preparing for a fight to the death he has to participate in.  Though that is also not why you’re here.  When we got here, we were almost forced to … well, marry him.  He has to be bonded with someone to rule if he has a child.  Without telling him or us they were going to force the ceremony.  He managed to get them to give us two weeks.  I couldn’t do it without you guys at least knowing about it.  But… and I guess I’m proposing for him right now.  He’d like it to be all of you.”
“A what?”  Natasha asked.  “And a what?”
“Deathmatch.  Wedding.”  I said counting them off on my fingers. “And -”  I took a breath and huffed, blowing my hair off my brow.  “- the thing about the wedding is… it will mean our life expectancies change.  They will all be pulled in line with Thor’s.”
“Can you boil that down just a wee bit for my dumb brain?”  Clint asked as he cuddled with Pietro.
“The ceremony is called bonding.  It doesn’t change the rules of the relationship.  It just means we are bonded to Thor.  And each other.  We will have a special connection.  For those of us like me who are going to get the usual 78 years most likely, we will now get closer to 5000.  For Bucky, Steve, maybe you B, and you Nat.  You’ll live significantly less.  Plus Thor will be promised to you.  You won’t ever have to worry about being alone.  So… we don’t all have to do it.  But he has to do it with someone.  If you don’t want to that’s okay, but we all need to agree on who does and if that’s okay.”
“Is there a place I can go to punch things?”  Bucky asked in a low voice.
I looked over at Loki, but Volstagg stepped forward.  “Let me take you to the training arena.”  He said.  “Is there anyone else that would like to work out their tension?”
Natasha raised her hand.  Volstagg indicated to the door with his ax and the three of them headed out together.
Sam moved over and wrapped his arm around me and I melted into him.  “I missed you guys.”
“How have you been doing, sweetie?”  Wanda asked rubbing my leg.
“I guess you could say I’ve been a little bit stressed,” I said.
Sam rubbed my arm and kissed the top of my head.  “That’s totally understandable, princess.”  He said.  “You’re safe and we’re all here.”
“What about you, my darlings?  Have you been having fun?”  Wanda asked the kids.
“Uncle Woki has a big wibwawy,” Pietro answered.
“Yeah?  How big?”  Clint asked.
Pietro stretched his arms up over his head.  “Is big.  So many.”
“Piet, you should tell daddy about what Fandral has been teaching you,” I said.
Pietro stood up on Clint’s thighs and started jumping.  “Daddy!  Daddy!”  He said excitedly and then started babbling so fast that it was hard to make out any words.
“Buddy.  Buddy, slow down.”  Clint said, holding Pietro’s hands.
“Dere’s a pony, daddy.  I rided da pony.”  He squealed.
“Oh, really?”  Clint asked.
“Fandral was teaching him to ride while Thor taught Riley how to use her powers,” I explained.
“That sounds like a lot of fun, buddy,” Clint said, and Pietro slammed himself against him and nuzzled into his neck.  “So… the immortality thing.”
“I don’t know what to do.  I worry about him.”  I said poking Pietro.
“Well, maybe he falls in love with an Asgardian,” Clint said.  “Or maybe Earth Science can cure diseases.”
“Or maybe we have to watch him age and then die and we’ll just be stuck like this,” I said, frowning.
“Well, yeah,” Clint said and kissed the top of Pietro’s head.  “I dunno.  Still don’t really see it as a problem.”
“You want to do it?”  I asked.  “Just like that?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I said, furrowing my brow.  “It’s huge.  It means a lot.”
“Why don’t you talk us through it, honey?”  Sam asked.
“We’ll have to watch everyone we know die.  That means probably Piet.  Hill, Coulson, Scott, Rhodey, Clarke.”  I said.  “It means that all the shit we deal with on Earth could get worse because we will always just be there.  We might stop even being able to relate to people or form proper bonds with them.  They might start thinking we’re gods too.”
“Where did that fear even come from?”  Sam asked.
“I don’t know.  Anne Rice?”
Sam chuckled and Clint shook his head.  “So, fiction?  Have you tried actually talking to someone who has experience with that kind of thing?”  Clint asked.
“What like Thor?  The god of thunder?”  I snarked.
“Well, what about that guy?”  Clint asked, gesturing to Fandral.
“I’m afraid I’m not a good example,” Fandral said with a small bow.  “I have lived a normal life for what is expected on Asgard.  I have seen my elders die but I haven’t had to outlive any of my peers.  At least not in terms of watching them grow old.  I’ve lost friends in battle.”
“Oh,” Clint said.
“There is a chance that young Loki here may outlive us all.  The stories say there are celestials who existed before existence.  There is only one known case of their death and the skull is now the homeworld of many people.  Then came the All fathers.  The Ice Giants came with them.  They were violent and burned a path through the universe before them.  Then Odin was born of the Allfathers.  That was when the universe began to settle.  Other worlds grew and their own life forms formed with their own life spans.  But here on Asgard we live thousands of years and are revered as gods.”
“Okay, but would you choose to outlive some people by millennia if you could?”  Clint asked.
Fandral approached us and took a seat next to Loki. “That seems inevitable.  People die in war.  I outlived the Valkyrie.  My parents.”
“The what?”  Clint asked.
“Valkyrie?  The warrior women?”  Fandral asked with a mixture of shock and disbelief.  “You haven't heard of them?”  When Clint shook his head, Fandral sat up straight and clapped his hands.  “A story for the little prince and princess.  Once upon a time, Odin was stretching his rule over the Nine Realms.  There was much fighting within them and he wished to restore peace and order.  He took with him an army of women who rode upon winged horses.  They were the most formidable army in all the realms.  All who they went up against fell.  Until one day there was a great battle and they were all slain.”  He explained.   “I was but a child when they existed.”  He leaned over and poked Pietro in the stomach.  “Your father wished to be a Valkyrie when he grew up.”
“You get me a horsie wif wings?”  Pietro asked.
Fandral chuckled.  “That might be possible, little prince.  But first, we learn on the non-winged kind.”
“Are they a different species?”  Clint asked.
“That’s right,”  Fandral said with a nod.  “Longer lived and stronger than the typical horse on Asgard, but no match for Odin’s former steed.”
Clint furrowed his brow like he was mulling over the story.  “Why would wings make them live longer?”
I snorted.  “Correlation, not causation, Clint.”
“If I were to guess, I would say it was because the magic runs deeper through them,”  Fandral added and turned to Loki.  “What do you think, dear?”
“I think it would be a shame if I had to put a knife into your eye,” Loki said rolling his eyes and picking at his nails.  “I just cleaned my blades.”
Fandral chuckled and poked Pietro in the belly.  “Now, now.  Your uncle is always so violent.”
Pietro giggled and wiggled in Clint’s lap.
“Where are the boys?”  Sam asked.
“Thor is being chewed out by Sif.  I think Steve and Tony are in the lab.”  I said.
Like I had summoned him, the door opened and Thor came in with Sif, followed by the chef and his carts of food.
“Woah, magic,”  I said as Riley wriggled out from Wanda’s arms and ran over to the chef.
Riley bounced on her feet as she watched the chef start sorting things out for everyone.  There was a lot more food than previously, but then there were also a lot more of us.
As he was setting up, Steve, Tony, and Hogun came in.
“Oh, hey, the rest of them,” Sam said.
“Where’s Bucky and Nat?”  Steve asked, looking around.
“Punching stuff,” Clint answered.
“You should give everyone their gifts,” I said as Steve scowled.
“Sure,” Tony said and went into the bedroom to find the bag.
“Sif, did you talk Thor out of it?”  I asked.
“I’m afraid not, my lady,” she said.  “I did try.”
Tony returned with the bag and pulled out the bow.  “This is for you, Legolas.”
Clint took it and his eyes went wide.  “It’s so light.  Feels like I’m holding a pencil.”
“It is like mine,” Sif said.  “It has a perfect balance and tension.  You will like it.”
Clint tested the balance and I took the bag off Tony and dug around in it pulling out the vambrace.  “I picked these for you,” I said giving them to Sam.
He took them and made a soft, pleased sound.  “These are nice.”  He said turning them over.
“I thought they’d match your wings if you wanted to wear them. Or they’re just pretty.  So you can put them on a shelf to look at.”  I said.
“They’re perfect.  Thank you, princess.”  He said and pulled me close nipping at my neck.
I giggled and leaned into him, passing the bag back to Tony.  He went back and pulled out the gift for Bruce and gave them to him pulling him into his arms and kissing him softly before he pressed the decorative case into Bruce’s hands.
Bruce opened them and smiled for the first time since I’d seen him here.  “These look interesting.”
“Thought you’d like them, Bear,” Tony said and nuzzled at Bruce’s neck.
Steve took the bag off Tony and took out Natasha and Bucky’s gifts and put them on a shelf out of the kids’ reach before bringing the whole bag over and giving it to Wanda.  “Everything else in there is for you, darling.”  He said.
Wanda looked at him suspiciously and then opened the bag and looked inside.  “Why is it so big?”
“Some weird magic,” Steve said.
She reached in and brought out a handful of rings, necklaces, and bracelets.  “There’s so much.”  She said, beginning to separate each piece.
“The lady who made them wanted you to have all of them.  There is a lot more in there.”  Steve said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“It’s all so beautiful,” Wanda said, smiling.  “Thank you.”
Steve gave her shoulder a squeeze.  “You’re very welcome.”
“Lunch is served.”  The chef said.
“Is good,” Riley said from her spot at the table.  A plate was already in front of her and her mouth was completely full.
“How’d you get food, bug?”  Clint asked getting up with Pietro on his hip.
Riley pointed at the chef with a piece of food she was holding in her fist.  “Dis guy.”
“I did hand her a plate.”  The chef said.  “Did I overstep, my lord?”
“Is good,” Riley said.  “You my fwiend.”
The chef chuckled.  “Thank you, princess.  You’re my friend too.”
“I assure you, Clinton.  Magnus has been working for the throne since I was a small boy.  I trust him completely.”
“Even with what happened?”  Clint asked.
“Yes.  Magnus is loyal to us.”  He said.  “And a member of our household.”
Magnus bowed and took leave of the room as everyone got up and helped themselves to food.  Pietro climbed up onto Clint’s head and ate things that were passed up to him as Clint sat at the table with Steve, Sam, Tony, and Bruce.  Wanda and I ate at the couch with Loki while Thor seemed to pace and pick at things.
“Come here, human cat.  Curl back up with me.”  Wanda said, shifting so she could eat with me tucked into her side.
I curled in and picked at the food on my plate.  “What would the bonding ceremony be like?  What can we expect?”  Wanda asked.
“Oh, we get powers.  But we don’t know what they’ll be until it’s happened.”  I said.
“I’ll have extra powers?  Like lightning?”  Wanda asked.
“They will be a reflection of both who you are and how you see yourself in your family,” Loki explained.  “For example, someone who was very protective of their family might be able to create a shield that encompasses them.”
“Oh.  I see.  I wonder what that would mean for each of us.”  Wanda said.
Loki shrugged.  “Hopefully it renders this one mute.”  He said gesturing to me.
I tried to stifle a laugh, ended up snorting and then broke down into peals of silent giggles.
Loki did his best to ignore me completely.  “The ceremony itself involves a literal binding.  A cord will be used to bind you to each other.  For the number of you, I imagine it will look like a large web.  Magic will be passed through it and you will take a sort of vision quest.  In it, you will find where you belong within the relationship and your family.  If the bonds are true and good, then you will be granted your new gift.”
“Wow. Okay.”  Wanda said and took a drink as she seemed to mull over Loki’s words.
“Does she always eat like this?”  Loki asked waving her hand vaguely at Riley.
I looked over and saw Riley completely covered in food and shoveling more into her mouth.  “Oh, yes.  She’s a hungry beast, aren’t you bug?”
She roared in response which made Wanda start giggling.
“Who raised this child to act like this?”  Bruce asked.
“We did?”  I said with a shrug.
“I think she needs to be recalibrated.”  Sam joked.
“Daddy,” Riley said, sternly.
“Oh.  You asked for it now.”  Sam said, getting up.
“No, daddy!”  She squealed.
“Yes, bug.”  He said, grabbing her around the waist and flipping her upside down.
She flailed and squealed, kicking her legs excitedly.  A soft wind began to swirl around the room.
“Just a few more minutes.”  Sam teased.  “You’re almost fixed.”
“Riley, control that wind, please,” Thor said.  She continued kicking and squealing but the wind died right off.
“Huh,”  Sam said, flipping her back over and putting her down.
“Again, daddy!”  She squealed, jumping up and down.
“She got control of it after only a couple of days?”  Sam asked.
Thor shook his head as Riley continued to jump up and down, tugging on Sam’s shirt.  “Only sometimes.  It’s important to remind her when it’s out of her control though.”
Sam caught her midjump and spun her upside down again.  She squealed in delight.   It was such a pure noise and she was so happy.  As loud as it was with everyone here I felt at peace.  Even Bruce seemed to have started to relax a little.  The only stand out person, who was not beginning to calm was Thor.  Time was ticking down to the Fenestare, and the stress of it seemed to be seeping out of his pored.
“Thor, are you okay?”  I asked.
“As I can be.”  He said in a strained tone.
“Do you want to join Wanda and I for cuddles?”  I asked.
“Yes.  I would most appreciate that.”  He said moving over to us.
“You know he is as heavy as a horse right?”  Loki asked.
“I have been under him many times, yes.”  I deadpanned as I opened my arms and Thor collapsed down into them.
Loki shook his head.  “I don’t know what I expected to happen when I said that.”  He said.  “I am old enough to know better.”
“You did kind of walk into it.”  I agreed as I began to caress Thor’s hair and neck.
Riley came over and climbed up on Thor, draping herself over him like a cat and closing her eyes.
“Do you think she understands what’s happening?”  Sam asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“I hope she doesn’t,” Bruce said, his voice slightly strained.
Thor shifted and closed his eyes a little, and it wasn’t long before both father and daughter were snoring lightly in the pile on my lap.
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mraaronwhite · 4 years
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THE GOLDFISH
We sat in the conservatory of my weathered, beach side cottage, overlooking some tomato plants and a splintered oak bench that I collectively called my back garden. Now, being a cottage, you would be forgiven for thinking that this was a small affair, the kind of cottage that malicious, child-eating witches would inhabit deep in the woods. Not this cottage though. There was actually too much room believe it or not. Well, too much room for a man and his cat at least.
You see, I grew up in a cramped, narrow excuse for a flat in Edinburgh. Usually being able to touch two opposing walls at once. So, when I inherited this place, a fortnight ago, from my recently deceased Aunt, it was a breath of fresh air to say the least. It felt like the perfect excuse to have a party. Not to celebrate my Aunt just dying (she was a grumpy old boot, mind you) but rather the fact that after twenty-three years of always wanting a place of my own, I finally had it.
I messaged the group chat, letting them know of the upcoming shindig to mark my housewarming, informing them that they would all be coming. None of them having a choice in the matter, I joked. There were ten of them in the group, eleven including myself, and we had been inseparable since the later years of high school. That fact surprises most people actually. Given that when folk head off to university, college or go backpacking through Asia, they normally lose contact. After all, it’s a perfect chance to reinvent yourself, and doing that sometimes means saying goodbye to some folk.
Not us though. We had to be different. Having nearly been out of high school for as long as we were in it, our collective friendship was as strong as it ever. We hadn’t all been together in nearly a year as well, so when I sent out the invites, they all jumped at the chance.
 The night itself exceeded my wildest expectations. We laughed, we sang, we laughed again. It was a night of pure merriment and happiness and it will live forever in my head as one of the high points of my life.  As I sighed a breath of relief when I moved into my sand surrounded home, I did the same when I saw all my friends together again that night. My face literally started to hurt with the amount of smiling I was doing, which only made me smile all the more.
All good things must come to an end though I thought, and as the clock flashed one in the morning, the designated drivers began ferrying home their passengers. Before they left however, we had but one tradition to enact. An exclusively Scottish ritual that you have to do at the end of a good party. Listening to Runrig’s Loch Lomond at full volume and jumping up and down like a bunch of toddlers on a sugar high. Once the song was over however, the party was too unfortunately. One by one, they said their farewells and staggered down my grassy strewn path. They waved and honked their horns until eventually they fell out of sight, becoming part of the jumbled mess of streetlights and other late-night travellers.
 I ventured back inside my new home and couldn’t help but feel lonely. Lonelier than I had in a while. At least I had Bean though, I thought to myself. She was my ashen-haired feline companion, and we’d been through thick and thin together. I don’t know what I’d do without her to be honest. She’s a nervous wee thing though and doesn’t do well around crowds, so had been chilling in the spare room for the night. That was until I opened the door of course, and then she was out of there at damn near mach four.
As she sniffed and scratched her way around the room, I flung myself into the heap of cushions and blankets people had sat on in the conservatory, their lazy attempt of tidying up before their departure I concluded. I sighed, letting out a small chuckle. Planning on just kipping there for the night, I shut my eyes and soon felt myself drifting off into the endless depths of my unconscious.
A distant toilet flushing filled the house and swiftly brought me back to reality. Then click clack, click clack, click clack. Footsteps. They were closing in and at this point I was on my feet, starting to panic. I had never been in a fight before, but I was about to be if my theory of a murderer checked out. In my drunken state, I never thought to question why someone would go to the toilet before killing me. I looked about the conservatory, trying to see something I could use to defend myself and grabbed the first thing that came to me. A tube of Paprika flavoured Pringles. In hindsight, I could have probably picked something a little more useful, but hey ho, that’s what a night of binge drinking and anxiety gets you. Then as the “Murderer” got closer, she appeared in the doorway. Clio DeLuca. My best friend.
 “Where did everyone go??” she said, cool as a cucumber, leaning on the frame of the door.
“They left like half an hour ago” I replied, my face a picture of confusion “What the hell are you still doing here though?? We all thought you left ages ago” I asked, half laughing, while letting out a sigh of relief.
“Funny story. I went to the toilet and kinda just fell asleep half way through.” She told me, sitting down the arm of the raggedy couch. Then flopping onto my makeshift bed, that I had been nice and comfy on only moments before.
“What are you like??” I said, now properly belly laughing. “You might as well get comfy, the buses stopped at eleven.” I paused “Sooo, do you want another drink?”
“Yeah but my heads splitting, nothing hard.” I was about to offer her some of the special stuff but she got in before me “Oooh in fact, have you got any hot chocolate??” She asked, looking up at me with those wild green eyes, that I first met oh so long ago.
“Now we’re talking” I exclaimed with glee “I’ve got just the thing!” I then marched off into the kitchen, meeting Bean as she was having a nibble at some of her biscuits. I flicked the kettle on and shouted through “What one you fancying then?”
“I dunno - hic” she mumbled. The sounds of her then rolling off the couch and wandering through soon followed. “What kind - hic - you got?” she asked, parking herself at my breakfast bar.
“Weeeell” I started, opening my cupboard I that housed my secret obsession “I’ve got your normal supermarket kinds - Cadburys, Galaxy, Bournville?”
“Yeah, one of them is fine” she chimed in.
“Nah, that’s the boring stuff. I’ve also got white chocolate, orange, peppermint, vanilla bean, salte” Bean scuttled into the room, hearing this, thinking I was talking to her, to which prompted Clio to scoop her up.
“Well hiii, where have you been hiding all night??” Bean purred, gladly accepting the cuddles and attention. Clio looked back up at me, staring through her shadowy locks that fell onto her face like a waterfall in the night. “Please continue” she smiled, nodding at the cupboard, all the while still scratching Bean’s belly.
“Ah yes, where we, so we’ve got salted caramel flavour, cinnamon, apple pie and the Pièce de résistance of my collection, genuine Peruvian hot chocolate.” I turned back to her “Think I’m gonna go for the Peruvian blend, you?” I asked. She was back looking at Bean again, given her some more lovin’. She’s always had the attention span of a goldfish, and I always found it quite funny. “I’ll just make the you the same” I laughed.
“Sorry, aye, sounds lovely.” I spooned the mixture into two bulky mugs, hearing purring and some meows coming from behind me. “Sooo” she started, “When did you become the Ramona Flowers of hot chocolate?” she jested.
“What you talking about, I’ve always been into hot chocolate?” she started to speak before I cut her off “Cream and marshmallows by the way??”
“Ooh yes please” Her eyes lit up “But yeah, I know you’ve always liked it but this is like obsessed. Like I’m scared if I don’t like this” she paused, while pointing her head at our mugs “that you might actually kill me.” She looked so sincere as she told me this.
“Shut up” I pleaded, in the moaniest voice I could muster “You know, I don’t have to let you sleep here tonight, I’m doing it out of the pure goodness of my heart.”
“Nah I’m being serious, and once the papers find out, you’ll probably get a cool nickname as well. The hot chocolate killer, perhaps? Whadda ya think, Bean?” She gave a solemn meow.
“Fuc..” she cut me off, looking aghast, while covering Beans ears.
“There’s children present” she shot back, with a hint of faux anger and a wry grin. I then simply mouthed my retort, all the while giving her the finger. Then, just as quickly, she flipped it right back at me. We then both had a good giggle as I stirred our drinks, plopped in the marshmallows and squirted the cream on top.
“Shall we?” I asked, while gesturing to the conservatory with my head as my hands were full. She cradled Bean like a new-born, stood up and we both made our way through.
 I gently placed our steaming mugs down on the glass topped coffee table, moving some meekly filled beer bottles out of the way to give us some room. We both fell back into the warm embrace of the couch, prompting Bean to hop out off Clio’s lap and curl up between the two of us.
My Bluetooth speaker, which sat in the corner atop some books, echoed out the tunes of my Spotify playlist which I had shuffled at the beginning of the party. Turning it to a whisper when folk left, I turned it back up again to fill the room with some life.
Looking about, the room, and the rest of the house was an absolute state. Crisps everywhere, too many cider cans to count and an embarrassing amount of smarties lay scattered about the floor, from when I was trying to toss them up and catch in my mouth earlier in the party. A dozen or so polaroids were sprinkled about the place as well, and when one caught my eye lurking under the armchair in the corner I got up and quickly collected the rest. “Get any good snaps?” Clio asked, while taking a generous sip of her hot chocolate, leaving a lovely big creamy moustache under her petit, turned up nose. I smiled, deciding not to tell her. “Daaamn, this is gooood!” she exclaimed, in a warm, satisfied tone, telling me she loved the drink just as much as I did.
“Told ya!” trying to not look smug “Let’s see here” I pondered, thumbing through the small pile of photos. “Hmmha” I grinned, looking at Clio, who was puffing her cheeks and making her eyes go crossed “That’s a good ‘un” handing it to her. She flung herself back onto the seat, seeing the picture.”
“Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with us?” she chortled, leaning forward again to take another sip of the sweet goodness. Her face then quickly soured “Can you skip this one, it reminds me of when I worked in Asda. They played the same six songs on repeat. It was actually hell.”
“Us!?” I asked her, while I pulled out my phone, skipping to the next song “Speak for yourself! I take only good photos.”
“Is that right?” she laughed back, cocking her head, proceeding then to snatch the bundle of photos from my hands. “We’ll see about that” in a determined tone, while furrowing her brow. I took the opportunity to indulge in the heated sweetness of my mug and no less than ten seconds later “Here, look at this, what the hell are you doing with your lips?” shoving the polaroid at my face.
“Its called blue steel, look it up” I confidently hit back.
“I dunno what that is but you LOOK like a goldfish”
“I think you’ll find I look damn sexy” making sure to sound as cocky and arrogant as I could.
“And by sexy” doing air quotes with her fingers “I take it you mean the lesser known definition of the word, meaning to look like you live at the aquarium at Dobbies?” she ranted, putting one her best condescending voice as she could.
“You know, sometimes, your words, they hurt.” Looking back at her, attempting to appear actually upset and offended. She could always see right through my piss poor acting skills though, and we both just started giggling again.
This is the norm for when me and Clio hang out. I make fun of her, she makes fun of me, we laugh about it and on and on it goes. It’s been our routine since primary four, when we first met, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The rest of that night was no exception, we bantered about for a bit then did some actual serious talking as well. Our sexuality, putting the world to rights, family shit. The usual kind of deep topics you chat about after a night of drinking and partying, and before we knew it, I looked at my phone and it flashed 4:33AM.
  Bean had migrated over to the open window by this point, she was doing some serious loafing. Presumably to cool down I thought. The dregs of our hot chocolate sat in the now cold mugs and the two of us were cosy under a massive blanket. Her head gently rested on my shoulder.
I peered out through the double doors that lead to my garden, amalgamating into the sands and shells of the dark beach. The North Sea lay before me, stretching as far as the eye could see, eventually bleeding into the never ending abyss of space. An army of stars littering its canvas, shining down on us mere mortals below.
I stared at the colossal entity that was the cosmos, trying to make shapes out of its burning suns. I was at a loss at how the early astronomers of prehistory were able to see anything apart from a jumble of distant polka dots. “Hey” I whispered, gently nudging my shoulder.
“Hmm” She softly moaned to let me know she was listening.
“Do you see anything up there? You know, in the stars.” I continued, still whispering. She craned her neck back and opened her wild grassy eyes to look up at the sky above.
“I dunno” she looked from corner to corner, eventually pointing toward the right of where we were sitting “There’s Orion’s belt.”
“Nah like I mean something new, not an already existing constellation.” I prodded.
“I really can’t say. What can you see?” she asked, shutting her eyes getting comfy under the blanket again. I gazed about the dark blue sky with great curiosity. Then, directly in front of me, high above the wispy clouds I faintly made out the shape of goldfish. Probably because it was on my mind from earlier, but nevertheless, I could see it clear as day. I jostled Clio’s head once again.
“Look, there, right in front of us. Can you see a goldfish?” Groggily sitting up, she focused to where I was pointing and tilted her head.
“Yeah, I can actu…” She trailed off, as did my music. Both of us were looking at the fish in the sky, but now, the stars in our newly discovered constellation were twitching and swirling. They also began glowing much brighter than the other stars in the sky. Both of us were transfixed. The whole thing eventually started pulsing. Going dim and then shining bright. It was slow at first but then gradually got faster and faster. Then, and I’ll remember this moment until my dying day, it appeared in front of us.
 There, in the obsidian blackness of the sky, it shone down on us. A gargantuan, glowing goldfish. It swam about as if we were looking through the cold, wet glass of an aquarium. Darting about the night sky as easily as it would have underwater. Its visage, although similar to a normal goldfish, was still very different. Apart from the obvious size distinction, the one before us existed purely as an outline defined by the stars. Its body was see-through, the same inky darkness as the rest of space. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and neither could Clio given her jaw was almost touching the floor. We were both outside by this point, wanting to get as clear a look as possible.
“Te.. tell me you’re” I mumbled “you’re seeing this as well” I eventually mustered, breaking the silence.  Clio simply nodded, staring unblinkingly at the godlike being as it swished and swooshed through the cosmos.
“Okay” she finally said “Either we’ve fallen into some weird sci-fi novel or you spiked my hot chocolate” trying to make sense of the impossibility of what was happening.
“Why isn’t it cold though? I asked, looking up and down the beach, and after a few moments had passed, she eventually processed my question prompting her whip her head at me.
“There’s a massive floating fish made out of stars in the sky and you’re worried about the weather? She half yelled, with great incredulity.
“Clio, its 5 in the morning. In February. In Scotland. It should be freezing.” She thought about what I was saying and looked about as well. “Its warm though, and there’s no wind.” I paused “And no noise for that matter.” I paused again “I don’t understand”.
“It’s weird” she started “I feel like I should be scared or freaked out or… something” she looked at me “But.. it feels right. It feels like we were meant to be here. To see” she paused, looking back at the fish who was still merrily swimming about the sky “whatever this is.”  I felt the same way, in my gut. I knew that whatever was happening wasn’t meant to hurt or frighten us. So, I began walking forward, taking Clio’s hand as I did so. We walked far onto the beach. It was still warm, still completely quiet.
We eventually reached the waters edge, as close as we could get to the being in front of us, when we notice that the sea itself had stopped. It plateaued to a complete halt. No waves. No tide. Nothing. It looked like a gigantic mirror, that stretched out past the horizon. Reflecting everything that was happening above. I bent down and dipped my fingers in, expecting it to be solid but it was just as wet as the normal sea. Just completely still. As if someone had hit the pause button.
 I sat down, cross legged on the shore, as did Clio, and we watched the fish for hours. It swam to the left, to the right. It swam far away, getting smaller, then past the horizon only to jump up again as if it was a dolphin doing tricks.
The sky was gradually getting lighter, now a dusky blue, and we both knew that the fish’s departure was upcoming. Potentially any minute now. It suddenly came to a gentle stop, high in the twilight sky. It was looking right at us, into the deep-seated depths of our souls.
Now, I’m not an emotional man, it takes a lot to upset me. Even the most heart wrenching of films doesn’t evoke a reaction. But at the very moment, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Not out of sadness, or even happiness. It was just raw emotion. I could tell by Clio’s sniffling that she was having a similar reaction.
Then, as mysteriously as it arrived, it vanished. Its image fading back into the now pale blue of space. The stars that made up its outline, in their original position. It’s retreat from our world meant that it was back to normal, and in perfect synchronisation, the temperature dropped to just above zero, the wind blew at our backs and the once static waves drenched us in salty seawater.
Needless to say we both screamed out in discomfort, then looking at each other deep in the eyes, we embraced. I hugged her tighter than I had ever before, never in my life had I felt as close to someone as I did in that moment and I could tell she felt the same way. We swiftly then ran back to my cottage to warm up. After a nice warm and soapy shower, a fresh change of clothes (her having to borrow some shorts and a hoodie) she joined me on the couch, where we first saw the big fish, only a few hours ago.
 We sat in the conservatory, in silence for the most part. My tomato plants blew in the wind, gently tapping against the glass of the doors. Bean now sitting, curled up between us. Purring softly as I patted her silvery fur. Clio eventually spoke.
“Y’know, no one is gonna believe us” she said, in a solemn tone.
“No” I sighed, while shaking my head.
“Then why should we tell them” she exclaimed. “They’d think we were insane”. I acknowledged her sense; everyone, anyone we told, would think we were mad.
“I just don’t get why” I interjected, to which she looked puzzled “Why did that happen to us, what does it mean?”
“Does it have to mean anything?” I couldn’t help but furrow my brow, not being content with her answer “Look” she began again “When you see a sunset, a deer in the wild or you’re caught in the middle of a thunderstorm, do you ask why?” She paused, looking at me “No, you just enjoy them for what they are. Beautiful acts of nature.”
“But what we saw, Clio. It was Impossible. It shouldn’t have happened. It defies all the laws of physics that we know.”
“So?” she said, shrugging, casually as ever.
“So, don’t you want to know how all of that was possible?”
“Of course, I do, but even if I did, it wouldn’t make what just happen any more meaningful. In fact I think it would detract from the whole thing.” She could tell I was confused, which only made her smile, sit right next to me and take my hand in hers “When you see a magic trick, when you see a magician pick the card you were think of from thin air, what’s the best bit about it?” She said, looking right at me, with her wild green eyes. I thought about it for a few seconds.
“The trick” she smiled even wider “The mystery of it all and the trying to work it out.”
“And if you knew how it was done?” she continued
“It would ruin it.”
“Exactly.” I finally got what she meant and appreciated our night-time visitor all the more. I put my arm around her, pulling her into another hug. Gently kissing her on the side of her head.
 Things aren’t beautiful because we understand them or know when they’re going to happen. It’s the fleeting mystery and spontaneous nature of it all that truly makes it exciting. The late-night conversations, when you can’t stop dancing with your pals, warm hot chocolate, a cat’s affection, silly photos with funny faces and stargazing with your best friend. Its moments like these that make you really appreciate the wonderfully weird gift of life.
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the--highlanders · 4 years
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Lifeboat
On a trip to the Earth’s future, Victoria finds a piece of her past.
on ao3.
The towering buildings pressed in around Victoria, filling the sky and half-squeezing her breath out of her lungs. When the Doctor had said they had landed in a city from the Earth’s future, she had expected to feel something like the awe of a trip to London in her own time, a city bustling with the wonders of art and invention. But for all that this city was built of metal and glass rather than stone, it seemed ancient, half-held together by overgrown vines, full of smashed windows and rusted edges. Strange pathways that she could only suppose were roads crossed over each other above her to twist and turn at angles that were almost dizzying. The gardens and plazas that seemed to fill every inch of the lowest level must have been beautiful once, but they had fallen into disarray, and the few people she passed did not stop to appreciate them, hurrying about their business in a way that lent the whole place a sense of fear.
She turned a corner and found herself greeted by a long stretch of grass, interspersed here and there with patches of muddy water. A metal plinth sat in the centre of the largest pool, much like others she had seen around the city, though this one had no hologram above it. But something else had been built over it, and the sight was so achingly familiar that she could have sworn her heart failed her for a moment. The sandstone fountain seemed to call out to her, a lone piece of home set adrift in an almost-alien landscape, and she ran down the ramp towards it, her shoes clanking strangely on the battered metal. Forgetting the sodden ground beneath her, she all but flung herself towards the fountain, kneeling in front of the wall that ringed the plinth and pressing her forehead against its cool stone in relief.
“Hello,” she murmured. “Where did you come from?” Looking up, she studied the sculpture set in the middle, a stern-looking man clutching a strange object. He seemed familiar, but her examination of his face was interrupted by the realisation that his clothes could have been taken out of her own time. A soft cry escaped her, and she buried her face in the fountain’s rim again as if sinking into a parent’s embrace. The city seemed to have no sense of history, as if it had sprung up overnight, and the Doctor had even danced around giving her a proper answer when she had asked where on Earth they were. Being faced with something so heartwrenchingly close to home ought to comfort her, she thought. And yet an awful sense of dread was settling in her stomach at the knowledge that this city had been built and grown old since the planet’s ground had last felt her footsteps. Even this fountain seemed new, its stones pristine and smooth rather than weathered and stained with soot and grime, a mockery of the world she had known.
“Are ye alright?”
The sound of Jamie’s voice sent her scrambling upright, almost toppling into the water in alarm. She adjusted her skirts hurriedly, wincing at the dark stains on her stockings. “I’m fine.” Her words came out embarrassingly uneven, and the comforting expression that filled Jamie’s face made the knot in her chest bubble into frustration. “I’m just looking around. Alone.”
“Aye, aye, I can see that.” Jamie raised his hands a little, as if in surrender. “The Doctor an’ I were just getting a wee bit worried, ye know, ‘cause we’ve never been here before, an’ we didnae want tae lose ye.”
She hung her head, cheeks reddening, watching him from behind her fringe as he nodded towards the fountain. “Who’s this, then?”
“I don’t know.” Turning away under the pretence of studying the fountain, Victoria tried to surreptitiously rub the few traces of wetness away from her cheeks. “I didn’t see a plaque.”
“There’s one round here, look. E. Rockwell.” He read the name out slowly, as if rolling it around experimentally inside his mouth. “Looks a bit lost, doesn’t he?”
Victoria smiled to herself, small and bitter and carefully hidden from Jamie. “Yes, I suppose he does.” The name rang out in her mind, and she looked up at the statue again, searching the man’s face. “My father knew someone with that name. At the Royal Society. I wonder if it’s meant to be him.”
Humming an absent agreement, Jamie sprawled himself out on the metal ramp leading up to the fountain. “Or maybe it’s some great-great-grandson. We must be pretty far in the future.” He sat up, running his finger over the letters on the plaque again. “Hey, maybe it is him. This says he was born in eighteen twenty-two.”
A jolt ran through Victoria, as if someone had touched a lightning rod to her spine. “That can’t be right.” Her heart was pounding faster than it had any right to. It was a mistake, Jamie would shake his head and read out the right date, and then they would laugh about how silly it would be to find something of her own time here, of all places, in this timeless city. It was such a small thing, she told herself – just a fountain in an overgrown park – there was no need for her head to be spinning so violently. “You must’ve got it wrong. Read it again.”
Jamie was nodding away to himself, apparently oblivious of Victoria’s urgency. “Eighteen twenty-two. That’s what it says.”
“Who is he?” Every muscle in Victoria’s body was screaming for her to get up, to read the plaque herself, but she was frozen in place. “Why did they build a statue to him?” An awful thought sprung into her mind. “Is this London?”
“Dunno.” Jamie puffed up his cheeks, blowing out a sigh. “He died… No’ that long ago, it looks like. Hundreds of years after your time.”
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what it says.”
“What else does it say?”
Jamie shrugged. “To the man we remember.”
“What else?”
“Nothin’.”
She wanted to scream, to rush over and tear the plaque off the fountain with her bare hands, to sink down to the ground and cry all the tears she had been saving since Skaro. But instead she stood, quiet and still and proper, and said, “I don’t suppose they could have written the date wrong.”
“No,” Jamie said flatly. “I don’t suppose they could have.”
“And I suppose they are his dates of birth and death.”
“Looks like it.”
I wonder who he was. She reached out to touch the edge of the fountain, the sandstone warm against her palm, almost as if it were alive. I wonder if he was as lost as I was. She opened her mouth to speak those words, wondering if Jamie would understand, but they stuck in her throat, stinging as she swallowed them down. I wonder what happened to him.
“Do ye think he was the same man?”
“Mm?”
“Ye know, the one your father knew.”
Victoria shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I don’t know, I don’t – I don’t understand this place, Jamie. He can’t be the same man.” She glanced up at the statue again, as quickly and nervously as if she was staring at the sun. His face could have been familiar – but she had only met Rockwell once, many years ago. The stone man before her was older, his face marred by a single scar that she could only imagine had been dealt to him by some wild beast in Africa. “How could he have been born in eighteen twenty-two and have died here?”
“Well, you’re here, aren’t ye?” Jamie wandered around the fountain to stand next to her. He bumped his shoulder against hers in a way that she supposed was meant to be reassuring, but she stepped aside, leaving a wide gulf between them. “Maybe he was workin’ on time travel, like Maxtible was.”
“That couldn’t be him,” Victoria said. “He was a chemist, not a physicist.” Jamie’s closeness was scratching at the back of her mind, and she bit down on the urge to snap at him. Instead, she straightened herself up, setting her shoulders back and mustering up the most detached, commanding tone she could. “I would like to be left alone, please.”
“Oh.” A flicker of hurt crossed Jamie’s face, but he quickly settled back into an easy grin. “I’ll go an’ find the Doctor, then.” He squeezed her shoulder, and she shook him off half-heartedly. “You’ve got us, ye know.”
“I’m quite alright, thank you.”
“I know ye are.” Giving her one last sad smile, Jamie strode off across the park. She watched him go, scowling when he reached the top of the ramp and the Doctor stepped out from behind one of the raised garden beds. They leant in towards each other, murmuring something and casting glances towards her, and she tossed her head, turning her back towards them pointedly.
The statue stared back at her, cold and lifeless, and she glared at it for a long moment before her eyes began to water and her resolve faltered. The knees of her stockings and the hem of her dress were soaked through with muddy water, and she felt small and bedraggled, like a small child caught making a mess in the garden by her nanny. Slowly, reverently, she knelt down at the fountain’s edge and let the burn of held-back tears rise in her throat. They dripped down her cheeks and tumbled onto the sandstone, sinking in and vanishing. She let herself cry until no more tears came, then reached into the fountain to splash the water over her face and rub away the salt left behind. “Sorry,” she mumbled, wiping her hand dry on her skirt. The statue gazed down at her, still proud and haughty, but for a moment she could almost imagine a kindliness in his expression. “Thank you.”
Curling up more comfortably on the ground, she pressed herself against the side of the fountain, clinging to it as if it were a lifeboat and she were adrift upon the sea.
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keelywolfe · 5 years
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FIC: Terms of Engagement ch.4
Summary: Rus is still a kid himself and with his life turned upside-down, he has no idea how he’s going to take care of his baby brother. Having other kid skeletons appear in his world wasn’t exactly the help he was looking for.
Tags: Pre-Spicyhoney, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Undertale Sans, Undertale Papyrus, Babybones, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Possible Past Child Abuse, Skellie Daycare, Growing Up Together, Big Brothers Caring For Their Little Bros, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Notes: Ah, the days of skellie daycare are over. Our boys are grown, but things aren’t well in their worlds. Something is wrong and Rus is going to find out what. Whether he wants to or not.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
Read Chapter Four on AO3
or
Read It Here!
~~*~~
Some Fifteen Years Later
~~
“Time to get up, brother!”
Rus rolled over on his bare mattress with a groan, pulling his blanket back over his head. Not that a flimsy barrier was going to stop his bro, not a chance. Nothing short of a brick wall could stop him once he got going, and Rus didn’t keep one of those in his inventory.
Maybe he should look into it.
In the meantime, he could only hiss like a new vampire when Blue yanked open the curtains to let in the artificial light. It gleamed blindingly off the snow and through the window, directly into Rus’s cringing sockets. Satisfied at his brother’s betrayed howls, Blue dusted off his hands and turning back to Rus to scold, “Brother! Get up!”
“c’mon, bro!” Rus’s words were muffled into his pillow. “can’t you see i’ve been working myself to the bone?”
He peeked out in time to see Blue stamp one of his booted feet indignantly, gloved hands on his hips. “You have sentry duty in an hour! How can I catch a Human if we aren’t watching for one!”
Rus rolled over with a yawn, “don’t worry, bro, ulna be late.”
“Ugh, brother!” Blue shook his head, but beneath his pained disgust was a glimmer of humor. “All right, I’m leaving, but I’ll check on your post later!” He left, but poked his head back in to add, “I wasn’t bone yesterday, mweh heh heh!”
Blue vanished again as Rus chuckled to himself. He waited until he heard the front door close before rolling over to snag his cigarettes. His bro couldn’t stand the smell and he had enough to gripe about already this morning. A flick of his lighter and Rus drew in a long breath of smoke, held it in even as trickles escaped through his ribs, and exhaled it in a pale cloud. He flopped back in bed, careful to let the ash fall to the messy floor rather than into the sheets.
Idly, he considered the glowing tip of the cigarette dangling between his fingers. He’d started smoking not long after they came to Snowdin. Couldn’t really hurt him much and it made him seem older to Monsters who weren’t interested in looking too closely. Back then, anything he could use to make others not question him raising his brother had been helpful.
Mostly he’d fooled everyone with a trick as simple as abandoning his stripes early. That made it easy to pretend to be older than he was. He’d been tall even then and no one asked any troublesome questions. They’d let him come into Muffet’s after a long day of napping on sentry duty, let him drink alongside them and no one questioned that he preferred honey to whiskey; all Monsters had their preferences. It’d worked until he was old enough for it to not matter, and no one had been the wiser.
That was years ago now, though and Blue was of age himself, for whatever good it did him here. Ah, his wonderful, sweet-natured bro. So desperate to be liked and to make friends. The residents of Snowdin were nice enough, but outside of Muffet’s, they tended to keep to themselves. The cold weather and being trapped Underground tended to sap away friendly impulses and no matter how hard Blue tried, no one had been willing to step into the role of friend for him.
It hurt a little to know that Blue probably hadn’t had a decent friend since they’d stopped using the machine.
Since he’d lost Edge and Papyrus.
Damn, but it’d been a while since he’d thought of them. Rus sat up a little more in bed and lit another cigarette as he thought of his bro’s childhood playmates.
The scrapbook Blue made with their pictures all those years ago still sat on his bookshelf, but it was dusty with disuse. It was a wonder Blue remembered them at all, he’d still been a wee baby bones back then.
~~*~~
Barely a month after whatever happened to Red and Edge was when it all finally fell apart. Their little shared worlds were already beginning to unravel on the day it was Rus’s turn to watch the kiddos. Sans came right on time to drop off Papyrus. Kid was as wriggly as ever in his cheery orange-striped shirt, squirming down from his brother’s arms and off to play with Blue.
The two of them stopped asking when Edge and Red were coming back, but Blue still sniffled about it at night, lying in bed with Red’s worn-out jacket clutched in his arms.
To Rus’s surprise, Sans lingered and his grim expression brought no comfort. Not after what happened with their missing friends.
“what is it?” Rus asked, low to keep the kiddos from hearing him.
“we need to talk.”
Shit. Rus nodded and led Sans to his room. Their bros would be okay to play on their own for a little while. He sprawled out in his bed cushions, drawing up a knee to rest his chin on.
“okay, spill, what’s going on?”
But Sans wouldn’t be rushed. He settled to sit on one of the larger cushions that passed for a chair, legs crossed under him, and said bluntly, “we need to talk about what that fucker did to us.”
Rus could only blink, shocked to his core. They all had a fair idea of what had gone down before, even if their memories were pretty damn shaky. None of them ever compared notes, but they’d been to each other’s worlds, dozens of times. They’d seen the equipment, the tables with the straps on them. They all knew without a word, so Rus wasn’t sure why Sans wanted to share any now. “i don't want to talk—”
“i know you don't!” Sans said and his normal amicable tone was lost in a fury that jumbled in even more confusion. “me either, but we hafta. someone came to our lab yesterday.”
That nugget of information froze Rus’s soul. “what?”
“someone in a white coat,” Sans picked at the ragged hem of his shorts moodily. “don’t think she was looking for us, but she was with some others, poking around. they looked like they might be trying to open it again. and if they’re trying to do it in my world, they’ll try it here, you know. that’s how this works.”
It was true. They’d all noticed odd parallels between their worlds past people looking alike and if someone was coming to Sans’s lab...a painful thought occurred and it hurt to think it, of that sweet little baby bones who’d craved hugs being hurt or afraid, but Rus forced out, “do you think that’s what happened to red and edge?”
“i dunno what happened to them, maybe.” Sans blew out a long breath, his finger bones scraping his skull as he rubbed the back of his head agitatedly. “look, you guys weren’t the first worlds i came to. found another one first, another pair like us. those two seemed nice enough. they lived with the queen, took me to see her. but i gave her a hard look, i saw her. i saw her soul was bad.”
Rus looked away. He didn’t like talking about seeing souls. Neither had Red. The way it felt, someone else’s sins crawling up their spine like a bloated spider, ugh. It was horrible and Rus preferred not to, thanks. “she wanted me to stay, see,” Sans went on, doggedly, “wanted me to show them how the machine worked. i said i was gonna, played like it was all dandy. and then i ran back and got the hell out of there. scrambled the coordinates, but they still have a machine. if they figured out how to use it on their own?” He shook his head. “we’ve been using the machine for our own piddly shit, started all this back when we were kids and didn’t know better. but i don’t like to think what could happen if someone else tried it. someone with a little more determination.”
“what are you saying?” Rus whispered. But he already knew.
“come on, let’s be honest.” Sans was always grinning; with his skull structure, he didn’t have much choice. But there was nothing pleasant in the way he smiled now, “we can do that with each other, yeah? d’you trust anyone in your world with the machine? bet the nice cream gal is a real sweetheart, but you really think the old doc was the only bad soul around?”
“but…” He could feel the tears stinging in his sockets. He and Red had never been besties, but Rus found he missed the little asshole more than he’d ever thought he could. Losing Edge hurt even worse, that sweet baby bones, and remembering the last time he’d seen the kid, those thin, strong arms hugging him so tightly. If he’d known, had even an inkling what might happen, he never would’ve let the kid go.
Now Sans was saying he was losing him and Papyrus, too.
“we could move in together—“ but Rus trailed off, already knowing the answer even as Sans shook his head. All of them living in the same world would mean leaving the machine behind for anyone to use. That would kinda miss the point of it all. “fuck it, this sucks!”
Sans looked as miserable as Rus felt, blinking too hard. “i know. and it’s gonna break our bros hearts. but we can’t know what all is on the other side and i’m not sure i wanna wait until they step through to find out. and i definitely don’t wanna leave them for some other white coat to find. we need to shut them down, get them someplace where no one else can use ‘em ever again.”
Everything Sans was saying made sense, no matter how much Rus didn’t want to hear it. Hot resentment welled up, filling Rus’s soul; against the scientist, the machine, even against Sans. This wasn’t fair, none of this, why did they have to be the ones to do this shit? All Rus ever wanted was to be like the other Monster kids he’d seen, playing and getting nice cream, waiting for Gyftmas and a Santa who never managed to find his way to laboratory where little skeletons waited hopefully, thinking maybe this time, maybe they’d been good enough, and never were.
But there was no point to being mad about it, never was. All they’d ever had was each other, and someone had to do it. The same way someone had to clumsily wrap little presents for all the baby bones because if Santa couldn’t be bothered to show up, then a trio of big brothers weren’t about to let their little bros be disappointed again.
Someone had to and much as Rus hated to admit it, Sans was right.
“how can we move the machines?” Rus swiped at his damp sockets with his sleeve impatiently, “not like we can piggyback it around like we do our bros.”
“that’s another idea i got. follow me, i wanna show you something.”
Rus scrambled back to his feet, almost on Sans’s heels as they went out the door. But something felt odd as they walked through, a wavering of some sort and when Rus blinked, they weren’t in the hallway. They were standing outside the lab where the sweltering heat of Hotland was already making them sweat.
“how did you—“ Rus whirled around, blinking hard, but the scenery didn’t change. They were outside somehow and Sans’s grin was showing a little more humor.
“neat, huh? that’s why i said we needed to talk, cause if i can do it, i bet you can. and it’s not just monsters i can move, i can take things, too. maybe with a lil’ more practice…” He trailed off meaningfully.
“yeah, i get you, but i still don’t get how. or why.”
Sans could only shrug. “ain’t like we can ask. if i was gonna guess, i’d say he was hedging his bets that if the machine didn’t work, we’d be a different way through the barrier.” That grin twisted sourly. “shame none of his shit worked the way it's supposed to.”
Wasn’t a shame at all in Rus’s opinion. The real shame was the use they’d found for the machine was about to get dumped like so much trash. But when he thought of that other world Sans described, thought of Monsters coming through with bad souls filled with LV. Like the world Red was from.
Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening.
“show me how,” Rus said and Sans did.
It was exhausting and painful at first, worse even than the machine. He’d step out from a shortcut chilled to his marrow and it would be hours before his shivering stopped.
But it was easy, right within reach, and soon he was good at it, too good, good enough to take other people and things with him, and when he learned about the sentry job opening in Snowdin, he knew it was time.
After that, they’d only needed to say goodbye.
~~*~~
Rus stared up at the ceiling as he finished his cigarette, quietly consumed by memory.
Damn, but that was a long time ago now. It’d been what, fourteen, fifteen years? Their faces were reduced to blurred smears in his mind, maybe he needed to have a look of his own in Blue’s scrapbook tonight.
But even if the faces weren’t clear, he remembered Papyrus’s exuberance, his laughter. He remembered little Edge’s shy sweetness, the precious giggles from the kid who was so determined to marry him someday. Red and Sans, so like him and yet not, big bros determined to protect the baby bones.
So long ago but it still felt like there was gap in his soul where they’d all been once.
Rus snorted and smashed out his butt. Why was he thinking about them, anyway? Today wasn’t some kind of fucked up anniversary or anything. It was just another day in the Underground, another day, another G, and tonight it would be the same as any other. Watching Napstaton on the television he’d scrounged from the dump, choking down his brother’s less than appetizing version of tacos and secretly eating over at Muffet’s on the sly. Write another post-it to put by his sock for Blue to howl about tomorrow, and maybe head out for a drink, maybe even something else depending on who was there.
Nothing happened in Underswap, nothing changed.
So why the hell did he feel so agitated?
A niggling idea occurred, shaken loose by his nostalgia. Might be that there was a little something something he needed to check on, a thing he hadn’t looked at in years. He still had a little time before he had to get to his sentry post and it wasn’t like it took him longer than a minute to get there, anyway. He had the time, but the place he was heading wasn’t one he liked to shortcut into.
Rus pulled on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, scrounged from the pile of ‘not too stanky to wear again’ clothes and headed downstairs to shove his feet into his untied shoes. He lit another cigarette while he walked around back, standing uncomfortably by a door he rarely opened and Blue never seemed to notice. That was something right there, wasn’t it, that his little bro didn’t even see this door. Hard for Rus to figure out what that meant, and he wasn’t much one for puzzles or mysteries, anyway. Knock knock jokes, that was his gig and he wanted to keep it that way.
So why was he here, then, unlocking the door and pushing it open, all creaking and wheezy like a fucking late-night Halloween Special.
The lights still worked, thank the stars, or Rus might’ve said fuck it and headed off for his morning nap sentry duty after all.
Down in the cold basement, the machine sat hulking in the corner where Rus had dumped it after a painfully exhausting shortcut and there was a memory Rus could do without. Laying quivering on the dirty floor, close to vomiting from the burnt dregs of magic in the back of his throat along with bitter satisfaction and tears.
It was covered in a heavy cloth that was dusty and untouched. Useless. The machine didn’t have any power, cut off and starved to keep away any of the other Universes.
But Rus still shivered from something other than the cold. That feeling was still there, the same sensation he remembered as a kid. Like it wanted to be used.
“stop it,” Rus said aloud. Stupid. Like anyone was here to hear it? But his soul was crawling, a prickly sensation tiptoeing up his spine. He was alone, but it felt like something was here, a presence.
Rus wasn’t afraid of ghosts, knew a couple personally. This wasn’t a ghost and he couldn’t tell if it was malevolent or kind, only that it was there. And it wanted something from him.
“knock it off. i’m not listening,” Rus said, but it was a lie. He was listening to the throb in his head, the faint hiss like white noise echoing. Thin panic was starting to rise and he’d had enough of being here on his own. Let the machine crumble to dust, he was out of here.
He ignored the creepflesh feeling in his soul; he wanted out of here now and he reached out for a shortcut, the same way he had since he’d learned how and a thousand times since.
But the moment he stepped into it, he knew something was wrong. Colder than it’d ever been and it wasn’t gone in an instant as it should be. The dark/not dark lingered, his vision rattled, shaken in a psychedelic kaleidoscope. It hurt like his very molecules were being squeezed in an vice.
All together it only lasted an instant, but when Rus could see again, he was blinking through tears, staring uncomprehendingly at what was in front of him.
That…was not his sentry post. His shortcut should’ve plopped him right into his chair where he’d been a hundred times before, ready to sink down with his head on his arms and nap away the morning. This was wrong.
The trees were wrong, the sentry station, the snow, even the fucking light, everything was wrong, the world tilted to the side and off.
He felt like he’d walked through a door and ended up someplace else, which yeah, that was what a shortcut was, but this was a grotesque parody of where he was supposed to be.
This sentry post looked like a fucking fortress, crisscrossed with razor wire and there were bars in the windowed section. Warnings were graffitied on it in garish paint and what the fuck was a LV hunter? Not something Rus wanted to meet, that much he knew.
Rus stepped backwards and away, the sharp taste of fear heavy on the back of tongue. He was already reaching automatically for another shortcut, felt that unnatural cold in his grasp a split second before unexpected pain broke his focus. Rus yelped as he fell, hot agony zigzagging up his leg as a bone in his ankle snapped when he hit the ground.
The snow was as cold as the void, maybe colder, seeping wetly through his clothes. Painfully, Rus managed to roll over only to stare downward in disbelief. There was a trap around his foot, winding up his leg like a cruel vine. Nothing like the childish games his brother designed. This was a fucking snare made of barbed wire and springs that dug dusty gouges into his bones, and he was caught but good in it. He tried to kick it loose and had to stifle another scream, dull agony flaring sickeningly from his broken ankle.
Fuck, what was going on, what? Something was wrong, this whole place was wrong, not his shabby little cardboard post with the rickety chair he’d scrounged from the dump. This was someplace else, someplace terrible.
Through the haze of pain, Rus could hear the distant baying of dogs.
~~*~~
TBC
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azvolrien · 4 years
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Berserkers
A short one-shot elaborating on a childhood incident Roan mentions in Seal Story.
~~~
           They had been walking in silence for more than half an hour.
           “I’m sorry, all right?” Roan blurted when they finally reached the cottage. “I didn’t mean it to happen. I’m not even sure what happened. I just… I got angry. Really angry. And I know you are too, now. I’m sorry, Granda.” She sniffled and rubbed a hand roughly across her eyes, wincing as she touched the bruise flowering around the right one.
           Bruide sighed and laid down the yoke of the handcart. “I’m not angry with you,” he said as he unlocked the cottage door. “I’m not even disappointed. I’ve just been thinking. Help me get the groceries packed away and we’ll have a wee chat about it.”
           Roan helped him to carry the food inside and store it in the kitchen cupboards.
           “Sit down at the table,” said Bruide. “We need to see to that shiner you’ve got coming on, eh? Hold still a wee minute.” He unscrewed the lid of a small glass jar and dabbed the ointment onto Roan’s black eye. “There we go. Now say ‘Aaah’.”
           “Aaaaaaaaaaah.”
           “Good, no teeth missing that shouldnae be,” said Bruide. “Though that middle one looks ready to go any day now.” He popped a boiled sweet into her mouth and ruffled her hair. “Good lass.” He sat down across the table and folded his arms. “Right then, ròn beag. That was a rare scrap I caught the end of. You’ll have to talk me through the start of it.”
           Roan held up one finger until the sweet had worn small enough to swallow. “I was waiting by the well when you were talking to the baker,” she said. “Some of the village kids came along and tried to chase me off.”
           “Why?”
           Roan shrugged. “Dunno. Seemed like… they felt like the well belonged to them and nobody from outside the village was allowed near it, or something? I wouldn’t go. Said I was allowed to be there same as any of them.”
           “That’s right.”
           Roan gave a small smile and went on. “And then one of them shoved me back against the well and said that, that you were just a mad old man who shouldn’t be allowed in the village, and that if people had any sense they’d take me away from you to live with a ‘real’ family.” She frowned, running a finger around a knot in the tabletop. “I’ve been angry before but… not like that. Everything felt… Sharp. Clear. Like I could hold everything around me in my head, really know where everything was, but that the only important bits were the kids around me and making them stop. And I went for them, and suddenly I was strong, stronger than I’d ever been before, and although I could feel them hitting me the pain just didn’t feel important? Like it was something I could deal with later, just as soon as I’d beaten them all. That’s when you came out of the bakery and broke things up.”
           “And believe me, it was like trying to carry a raging wildcat until you calmed down,” said Bruide.
           Roan giggled. “But then once I had, it… It was scary. I was scary. I don’t… If you hadn’t got me out of there, I… I really think I might have killed someone.” She bit her lip.
           “You might have,” Bruide allowed.
           “So… What does it all mean? What do we do now?”
           “‘What does it mean’, eh?” Bruide scratched his beard. “Well, to start from the outside… It means you’re like me, and my grandmother before me. You’re a Child of Torravon.”
           “The war goddess? But – my mum’s name was Lorna.”
           Bruide laughed. “It’s a figure of speech, lass. Means you’re a berserker. You carry the battle-madness in you. Just like me.”
           “You have it too?”
           “Aye. I was older than you when it first rose up in me, but I mind it felt just like you described. My granny sat me down to explain it all. But what set it off in you – that’s a good sign.”
           “Is it?”
           He nodded. “In some people, it rises just because they get angry and want to hurt something. In you, it showed its face because you had something you wanted to defend. That’s good. It can be a blessing, helping you to protect what’s important to you – or it can be a curse that makes you a danger to everyone around you. With practice, you can learn to keep it on the right side of the scales. It’s only really useful when it’s properly harnessed.”
           “Can you teach me?”
           “Suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” Bruide ran a hand through his short grey hair. “Best to start as soon as possible. Follow me down to the beach.”
           They made their way through the dunes and sat down on the dry, loose sand above the tideline, facing the sea.
           “Close your eyes,” said Bruide. “Tell me what you hear.”
           “Um. The sea?”
           Bruide chuckled. “More detail.”
           Roan shut her eyes. “Well. Um. There’s the gulls up above. They’re quieter now than they sometimes are – they’re much noisier when they’re nesting – but I can still hear them calling to each other.”
           “That’s a good start. What else?”
           “The wind in the, the dune grass. What’d you call it?”
           “Marram grass, my wee seal. It’s called marram grass.”
           “Yeah. It’s getting to the time of year when it sort of dries out some, so the grass makes this rustly noise when the wind goes through it.”
           “That’s right.” Bruide looked out at the horizon. “Keep going.”
           “Those seals out on the rocks. They make a grunting noise now and then, and do that thing where they slap their bellies for no reason.”
           “I’m sure it has a reason to them, eh?”
           “Heheh, aye. Then there’s the waves down on the sand. The wind’s low today so they’re not really breaking, just washing in and out, but it’s still making the pebbles click against each other down by the water.” Roan closed her eyes more tightly. “My heart. My breath. Your breath.” She opened her eyes and looked up at her grandfather. “That’s it.”
           Bruide laid an arm around her shoulders. “Now. Think back to what happened today. The things they were saying. How angry you were. Find the spark of the battle-madness in you and match it to the waves. As they come in, let it rise into a flame, and as they go out, push it back to a spark again. Get the hang of keeping it under control.”
           “What if it gets too big?”
           “Well, there’s nobody for you to fight here but me, and you know me – I’m an old warrior. Maybe you’ll outfight me one day, but not yet, eh? You’ve got a bit of growing up to do before that, berserker or not.”
           Roan nodded and closed her eyes again, breathing in time with the waves. The tension in her shoulders rose and fell, but grew stronger with each rise until her hands clenched into fists and her lips drew back to bare her teeth.
           “That’s enough,” said Bruide, hugging her more firmly to his side. “Push it down. Let the flame fade back to a spark and stay there. I’ve got you – I’m right here.”
           Roan took a deeper, slower breath and opened her eyes to gaze out to sea.
           “The madness will get stronger as you grow up,” said Bruide. “That’s why it’s good it showed itself early in you; it means you can learn to rein it in properly, how to channel the power it gives you without letting it control you. If it had kept itself hidden until you were fully-grown, well… I’d have a much harder time teaching you to control it. This way, you’ll have had a lot more practice before it gets that strong. In time you might even learn to summon it on purpose. I’ve never had the knack of that, but my granny did.”
           Roan pulled one side of his coat around herself against the chill.
           “You know, we found your mum on a beach like this, away to the north,” said Bruide. “Washed up after a storm. She said that her boat had been wrecked out at sea, but never spoke about where she’d been before that, or who her people were. I always thought she’d run away from something, but if I was right she never said so. All the people of the Sea Lochs have salt water in our veins, but you… I reckon you’ve got more in you than most.” He sighed and got to his feet, brushing the sand off his trousers before he took Roan’s hand and swung her up onto his shoulders. “We’ll keep practising,” he promised, “but that’s enough the now. What d’you say to fishcakes for tea?”
           “Fishcakes!” agreed Roan, drumming her approval on top of his head.
           “Heh, you are a wee seal. All right, come on – you can help me to make them. And then tomorrow… Well. No sense going to all that bother controlling the madness if you dinnae ken how to fight properly, eh? Reckon tomorrow, I’ll start you teaching you the spear.”
~~~
‘Bruide’ is an alternate spelling of ‘Bridei’, the name of several Pictish kings. Funnily enough, the little we know of the Pictish language suggests that it was actually more like Welsh than modern Gaelic.
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FFXIV Write - Week One - Prompt 3 - Lost
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​
----
FFXIV Oneshot: OC Based Fanfiction [Wol-verse]
Pairings: Wol oc x Thancred
Summary: They met years ago, but Thancred admits he knows nothing about Swath past before the Scions. Swath decides its time he finally explains his bloody history.
Word Count: 1793
With a pained grunt Thancred stretched out on the cot within the infirmary that was nestled in the side of the Crystarium. I sighed and sat heavily down next to him; despite my looks my body ached and the hustle and bustle of the room made my fatigue so much worse. Our little ward had run off to assist some of the doctors with gathering ingredients again, her mind now fully on her task after we had spoken with her. Beside me my long time companion laughed.
“Wha’ is so funny?” I asked, looking down at the beaten and bruised hyur. He looked at me with a soft smile and reached out to take my hand gently tugging me down to lay beside him. Exhausted, I complied. While I was a Viera, and much bigger than Thancred we still nestled comfortably together on the cot. My shoulders sagged and I shut my eyes for a moment feeling the pain peak in my muscles. I was sure to have bruises. Hearing the man beside me hum and place his head on my shoulder he lifted our still entwined hands. I opened my eyes to gaze at them, before feeling the need to ask my question again. “Thancred, wha is so funny?”
“This,” He shook our hands. “I would have never guessed that we would become so close.” I frowned, close? I clinked our promise bands, that were on our hands in defiance. He laughed again. “Yes, yes. But I mean when I found you outside of Ul’dah, it never crossed my mind that a day like this,” He shook our hands, “And this,” He mentioned to us and the bustling room. “Would happen. That you where the saviour of Eorzea.”
I sighed, “Hard’ly.” I muttered. “Jus’ cause some weird crystal chose me doe’sn make meh, a saviour. I’m just ah adventurer Thancred.” I shifted to nuzzle my nose into his greasy hair, smelling the dirt, blood and sweat. It was familiar, our moments of quiet together usually consisted of such things. 
“You may be just an adventurer to many Swath,” Thancred lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the band. “But you are at least my saviour.” I shivered a little bit at the memory; carrying his limp body out of the castrum, feeling the fear in the pit of my belly. Sure the mother Crystal had said that she had saved him but I feared… I had feared the worst. Although in this moment I was thankful. I was thankful that Thancred was opening up to me again, we had been parted for so long again. He had seemed so tired and bitter when I had first come to the First. I closed my eyes.
“Y’eh remember when yeh found me right?” I asked, shifting slightly to get more comfortable; my long ears where bumping against the top of the bed rubbing my fur the wrong way. The man who still had his lips to my dirty knuckles chuckled. 
“Aye, course.” His voice was soft. “You were so quiet, withdrawn… angry.”
“Lost,” I supplied. 
“Lost,” Thancred repeated placing our entwined hands on his chest. “You never really explained why, I realize. I know so much about you know, but I know nothing of your past beyond the moment I found you.” 
I could hear the curiousness in his voice, the wish to ask, the restraint with not, knowing it likely would hurt me. Bringing up such memories was not an easy task for me, but with all that we shared  I felt like finally, after all these years I owed him an explanation. I rolled my eyes even though he could not see and sighed. “Yeah, ‘bout time I’h explained som’ thin’s huh?” 
“If you would.” Thancred murmured, over the din of the infirmary I almost did not hear him for a moment. “I doubt anyone will disturb us here.” He then supplied, groaning as he reached up with his free hand to pop open a few latches in his chest armor. “Ah, but first if you would please help me here.” I laughed and we sat up, the white haired man before me shrugged off his jacket and I helped him free himself of his breastplate. I heaved it over the side of the bed before shedding what little pointy bits of armor I had on myself. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Thancred unceremoniously throw himself back on the cot. A faint memory of when we finished our first mission together in the Scions coming floating back before I settled back down next to him. 
“‘Ight.” I chuckled shifting so that my head was laying on top of his. He snatched my hand again and lifted above us once more playing with the band on my finger. “When yeh found me,”
“I remember you being wounded.” Thancred interrupted. I felt his head muscles shift under my cheek, indicating that he was frowning. 
“Yeah, I’h was. I’h had com’ from killin a tangent of Garleans.” I flexed my hand and smiled softly.
“But, there was not a castrum from miles around UI’dah.” Thancred said, his voice a little strained. Clearly he was not liking where my reflection was going, but I would not spare him any details.
“Aye, I’h had been wanderin for quite ah while.” I squeezed his hand gently. “I’h dun remember much, other than it h’a been days -”
“Days?” Thancreds voice broke a little, his hand stilling. 
“Aye. I went on rages often. I’h was very.. Broken, Thancred.” I muttered quietly as I waited a moment before continuing. Giving him a second to soak in the small detail. “I’h was still comin off loosin mah entire family to ah Garlean raid -”
“You never said anything about that.” 
“No. I’h guess I’h never saw a reason ta. I’h was with tha Scions, no reason ta bring up ol wounds.” I shrugged a little and he placed our hands on his chest again. 
“Pray, continue.” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. I could not tell if it was anger, or sympathy that flavored his tone. 
“‘Ight, So, mah family, I’h was raised in tha mountains of Garlemald, small village, one who worshiped ah primal I’h guess yah could say. Tha Garleans heard o us, dispatched a tangent of men ta murder us all. I’h was adopted by these people. I’h may have not been their blood but they, ta me where mine. This group o’men, they killed everyone. I’h even think they killed meh.” I frowned as I tried to focus on the hazy memory. I could not truly recall that day, just bullets tearing my flesh and then suddenly the one I believed should have killed me was no longer there. 
“You died?” Thancred shifted sitting up to stare at me intently. Still laying on the bed I shrugged.
“I’h think. I’h dunno, it was cold and black, ‘n suddenly I’h was warm and hurting.” I looked at his face curiously trying to read the expression that he had on his face. I couldn't so I just continued my story. “Tha was when I was a wee child, sweet babe of twenty winters.”
“And Viera live quite a long time.” Thancred muttered. “How long ago was that now?”
“Ah,” I raised a hand to rub my chin. “I’m ‘round sixty winters now? I’h think? Maybeh more, lotsa that time is lost ta me cause of mah anger.” Thancred was quiet. His eyes carefully watching me. I frowned, “Thancred, yah gotta tell me wha your thinkin, I have big ears for hearin, I cant read yah mind.”
His face broke out into a tender smile before he sighed, raising his hands in a shrug. “I was just thinking you are quite older than me. And here I thought I was robbing a cradle.”
I laughed, “I’h am a babe in terms of mah kind though apparently! So yeh may not be far off.” I reached up letting my fingertips graze his arms. He laughed and leaned forward wincing a little but falling onto my breast, snuggling into my shoulder. To us, the world around us had faded away and it was just our cot. 
“Continue Swath.” He asked shifting so that he could gaze at my face as I spoke. I smiled.
“Aye, well, I’h wandered ah lot afta that. Lived in tha wild. Stayed away from aether heavy areas..”
“Because of these correct?” He lifted on eof my arms and gently fingered a shimmering blue bump on my grey skin.
“Aye, aetheryte crystals.” I twisted my arm in his grasp to show off the many that speckled my skin like freckles. “Got’em when I was fifteen winters? Was protectin, or attemptin to, protect a town from a Garlean attack. They blew up the aetheryte while I was right next ta it, nearly killed me.”
Thancred sighed. “You have almost perished a lot, Swath.” 
“Aye well.” I shrugged. “I’h lived a dangerous life till I’h came to the Scions ironically. Yeh have to thank for savin mah hide from more danger.” Thancred grunted a response and I sighed. “Well, mah history isn't much more than that, yeh found me at tha lowest point in mah life pulled me from the brink an gave meh ah purpose.” 
“And then you became the Warrior of Light, a hero at the beck and call of all who need him.” Thancred murmured laying his head back down on my chest, he sighed. “Ironic indeed.”
“Eh, I got ta meet yah and everyone. I dun mind it. I’h am happy.”  I reached up and stroked his dirt caked hair. “Though, I do miss yah long hair. An tan.”
Thancred laughed, then winced. “Ah, do not make me laugh so. I did not have any control over the appearance of my soul.” I sighed.
“Aye, but tha tan, it had lines in such nice places.”  On top of me Thancred weakly pounded my shoulder.
“Enough you.” He chided. 
As I was about to open my mouth a small blur of white appeared in the corner of my eye. I turned and smiled. “Ah sweet little child, yeh return.” Thancred laungly turned to look at her, who was blushing furiously. 
“Ah-ah did I interrupt something?! I’m sorry!!” She squeaked then ran off before either of us could say anything.
“We should.. Go tell her it is okay.” Thancred murmured.
I chuckled, “Aye, but then, ta my quarters. I demand more of this. Its been ah while.”
“Yeah yeah,” With a smack to my shoulder Thancred winced but stood and grabbing his breastplate waited for me to stand with him and grab my things so that we could chase after the little Oracle. 
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