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spectral-kitkat · 3 years

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Miraculous Rant.

Where the hell do I begin…

Season 1:

The show was decent in season 1. Some episodes were just mindless filler and probably weren’t needed in the grand scheme of things but they helped us get introduced to the characters, we got to know the plot and the world our characters inhabit. It was good. The love story between Adrien and Marinette was cute and off to a touching and fluffy start.

Season 2:

This season was immediately better than season 1. It had character development, it went more into detail about the lore surrounding the Miraculous and we got to learn more about our characters and their families and the villian’s motives. (HM really went from “I wanna destroy the world” to “I wanna wake my wife from the coma she’s in”).

We got to see new heroes which was fun! We got new characters like Luka and Kagami.

The season finale was epic! The Miraculous team all taking down all the previous villains in the show was awesome. At the end we even got Mari kissing Adrien on the cheek. It was great! (Even though it clearly reset itself in season 3 cause it’s never mentioned again)

I really enjoyed season 2 and it’s probably my favourite out of the 4.

Season 3:

Season 3 was kinda good and kinda bad. We had some great episodes but this is where the show took the wrong turn.

Marinette lost some of her character in season 3. This was the start of her descent into being the Queen of Mary Sues. It’s also where she was crowned the Queen of Stalkers! Her character took a fucking nose dive in this season. We had so many moments that just creeped me the fuck out.

1. The ENTIRETY of Puppeteer 2 🤢🤢🤢 I could not stand that episode. When we reached the dreaded statue scene I physically had to pause it like 10 times. That scene takes about 3 minutes to watch… it took me about 20. I cringed so fucking hard because of the secondhand embarrassment I was feeling. That was not sweet, it wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t the least bit cute… it was a train wreck! It was creepy and stalkerish and it’s a wonder Adrien even spoke to her again after that atrocity!

2. LB delivering the present in Chat Blanc. Two words: STALKER BEHAVIOUR!!! I genuinely could not believe my eyes when I saw LB run her hand across everything in his room and then actually SNIFF Adrien’s pillow. Like WTF!!! 🤮 I’m pretty sure whoever was responsible for that scene clearly thought it was the equivalent of when someone gets their S/O’s jumper or something and it still smells like them. But this turned it up to the nth degree and way passed the line of sanity.

Adrien was extremely under-utilised in this season. He didn’t really do anything. The only episodes we got about him didn’t really focus on him. ‘Felix’ whilst focusing on Adrien’s family didn’t really feature him. ‘Party Crasher’ while a beautiful mess was more about Mari trying to get into the party than the party itself. ‘Chat Blanc’ again focused more on Mari trying to fix her mistake.

We got even more heroes in season 3, not in the right order but they were there. It was fun seeing everyone’s transformations.

Season 3 was also the season of destroying redemptions. The big one obviously being Chloe. Season 2 was setting up this amazing redemption for her and before it could go anywhere it was wiped off the face of the earth during the finale (and don’t worry we’ll get to that dumpster fire later). Gabriel also had any remaining sympathy ripped away from him. How did the guy who stopped Gorizilla from letting Adrien die when he only thought he was CN go from that to using his son like fucking baseball in Chat Blanc when he knew his son was CN. Like I knew you were a shit father but you still cared about Adrien in some way shape or form but after that episode I can see I was clearly mistaken!

Before we get to the finale I want to talk about probably my 2 least favourite episodes from this season: Desperada and Reflekdoll

Desperada:

I fucking hated this episode! The only good thing was Luka getting to be Viperion, other than that this episode was awful!

Marinette was a selfish cringey bitch. Completely ignoring Luka to gush about Adrien to Jagged. Brushing Luka off as soon as Adrien turns up. Immediately cuddling up to Aspik and flirting with him when she needed to focus on the akuma (something which she has told CN not to do many times before)

Adrien, I love you kid but Jesus Christ you were a dumbass in this episode! Aspik’s design was terrible! Aspik himself was awful. I know Adrien tried his best but dude you were given the Black Cat miraculous for a reason! He shouldn’t have tried to be Aspik but even when he did he should’ve called it quits after like 5 resets not 25,913 times.

The only person with a brain this episode was Luka. So well done guitar boy, gold star!

Reflekdoll:

This episode was annoying! It was basically the start of the Marinette can do no wrong streak! When they have to swap miraculous I was happy cause it meant we got to see new outfits and see how they each handle the different powers. It would also serve as a way to get LB and CN to see what their partners role is first hand. Until we actually get to it…

LadyNoire is of course amazing and needs no introduction to using this new miraculous that she’s never used before. She’s cocky and confident and basically just LB in Chat’s costume with his powers.

Mister Bug on the other hand is just useless. He struggles with this new miraculous (like anyone would!) and is stupid and goofy. He has to rely on LadyNoire to solve the lucky charm. They swapped miraculous so shouldn’t that mean that Mister Bug should get the lucky vision and the creative powers that the earrings give him.

Overall Reflekdoll is awful. It was shitty writing and the start of Adrien getting the short end of the stick.

And now the season 3 finale… Just what the fuck. That is my only reaction: what the fuck!

Chloe you poor fucking child! What did they do to you!!! So much potential SQUANDERED!!!!

What was the point in bringing in all these different superheros with unique skill sets, costumes and transformations if you were just going to immediately reveal them to the main villian so they can’t be used again. That’s stupid! If you wanted the shock value that is “Oh no HM knows some of the heroes identities!” Then keep it as only some. Have like Max, Kim and Kagami outside trying to find somewhere to hide but unfortunately they get hit. Or Nino and Alya are hiding but the windows open and they get hit. Have some of the heroes hide so they’re fine! Taking away every ally of LB and CN’s was a stupid move! (Even if they wanted Alya to become a spy have her as part of the like 4 that get revealed or something, it’s not that difficult)

Season 3 was 50/50 for me

Season 4:

So I know season 4 isn’t even halfway through yet but so much is wrong with this season already that I need to vent!

So my biggest problem with this season of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybitch and Rena Rouge, I mean Rena Furtive… shit, Chat Noir! Is that CN is basically pointless! Adrien has been flung over a rainbow and is only remembered when he’s needed as

1. Marinette’s love interest

2. Someone for LB to shout at

3. A plot device

He has basically been sidelined. Partners my ASS!!!

Adrien is being blown off by pretty much EVERYONE! It’s coming to a point where this poor sweet summer child is going to crack! And it is not gonna be pretty… I definitely feel like the writers are leading up to a big fight between CN and LB which will probably end with Chat Blanc 2.0.

I REALLY HATE MARINETTE/LADYBUG!!!! In Season 3 I said it was the beginning of her descent, well in season 4 she’s done it. She’s descended, she has hit rock fucking bottom. She is so unlikable I don’t actually care about her as a person. She has entered full blown stalker territory it’s only a matter of time before she starts killing people for even looking at Adrien! Not to mention that Miss Mary Sue here can’t do anything wrong! She never has to suffer the consequences of her actions, she is always perfect no matter what she does… it pisses me off!)

She’s the Guardian now big whoop. I know what it feels like to be stressed and under pressure so I do understand why she needed to tell someone about it all. I just don’t see why that person had to Alya! Especially considering she has someone by her side every akuma attack going through pretty much the exact same thing. I know she’s worried about CB happening again but as I said before the more she leaves him out the more she is actually pushing that to become a possibility! Plus it makes sense for them to reveal their identities now since LB is now the guardian it’s probably a good idea to know who holds the cat miraculous, she knows everyone else’s identities!

Even if she didn’t want to tell CN her identity she could still explain the situation to him. If she didn’t want to tell him anything (which she doesn’t anyway) then instead of Alya she should’ve talked to Luka! Her boyfriend for all of half an episode (thanks writers…). He’s so sweet and caring and clearly loves her so much! If she wanted someone to confide in then why not choose the person you clearly wanted to date but couldn’t because of that very reason! (Yeah I know it’s kinda a moot point now since Luka knows both identities but still). He wanted to try and comfort her so it would’ve been the perfect moment for it. That way you could still date him and he’d know why you had to suddenly leave dates halfway through! But no break the boys heart instead!

Adrien and Marinette were both such fucking idiots in the first 2 episodes. Like why would you start a relationship with someone when you know your heart isn’t in it! That’s called leading someone on and is a really shitty thing to do to someone! No wonder Kagami and Luka ended up akumatized!

Another aspect of season 4 I don’t like is Rena Furtive. Yes ok having a spy for your side is a good strategy but when said spy basically tells an important member of a duo that the 2 person job doesn’t involve them… it just really ticks me off! Alya you are the sidekick to LB and CN! Chat isn’t!

Miraculous specials:

The Miraculous World specials suck! Shanghai is better than NY but still has its problems. Both specials add nothing to the overall plot/lore of the show apart from trying to set up some weird cinematic universe…

NY special:

One of the worst things I’ve ever had to sit through! The plane scene alone I paused a few times. I want to say well done to Mari for trying to move on from Adrien (especially considering I’m pretty sure she’s dating Luka at this point) but I can’t help but think it’s just to give her character some pointless development that goes nowhere and doesn’t actually develop anything!

LB can pretty much fuck off at this point! I hate her! She put all this shit on CN (like she doesn’t know exactly how that feels). It’s like why does she get to go off on holiday but CN can’t. LB should’ve stayed in Paris for 3 reasons:

1. She’s recently become the guardian meaning it would probably be best that she stayed with the Mircle Box

2. She’s the only one who can purity the akumas

3. If she’s so sure about being the boss then she should take responsibility of Paris and the citizens.

What really pisses me off about her is what she says to CN during the big fight. “I can’t trust you”… surely you could have this conversation afterwards since you’re supposed to be focusing on taking down the villian! Plus everyone bashes Adrien for giving his miraculous up in this episode but look at it from his point of view: His partner and best friend just said she couldn’t trust him which in turn caused him to cataclysm someone and essentially kill them. That’s gonna take a toll on anyone, especially a 14 year old! He probably thought in that moment. “Ladybug needs a partner she can trust and someone who won’t mess up and kill someone. She needs a better partner.” It makes sense he renounces his miraculous! I’m just upset that in doing so he loses Plagg who is pretty much his only friend who actually understands what Adrien goes through at home.

When Uncanny gets CN to come back, LB acts like it’s not her fault in the first place that he feels inadequate! She didn’t even apologise for saying what she did! He apologised for lying about not being in Paris but nope LB wasn’t in the wrong at all and didn’t have anything to apologise for 🙄… (yes the LadyNoir hug was amazing but I just wish it was under different circumstances!)

Also are we not gonna mention Gabriel Agreste almost starting WW3??? He wanted to launch a fucking missile!!!

Shanghai:

As I said before, this special is way better for several reasons.

We got MariChat! (Best side to the love square imo). This special actually had some semblance on a plot. Fei, whilst a bit op, was a cool character. It was nice to see Wang Cheng again.

However once again there were many problems.

A big one being Marinette yet again! (What a shock! 😒 I’ll come back to this). Another was that once again HM’s motivation has changed. How is getting the Prodigious gonna help bring back Emilie??

Back to Marinette… The fact that the words “Huh?! There must be some kind of mistake! I always know what's up with Adrien! … His 5 first names and every corresponding name date, his yearly schedule, even his shoe size! If there were anything to know about him, I would know it!” come out of her mouth whilst she is flipping through his schedule that she keeps in her pocketbook is a hugh red flag!!! That is not cute or adorable! That’s messed up and Adrien needs to fucking run and maybe possibly go into witness protection… Marinette is a full blown stalker! Not to mention the GPS she has (that could just be the find my friends app on iphone but still).

It also is extremely rude of her to use not only her great uncle’s birthday but also a lie about wanting to know her Chinese heritage in order to go to Shanghai to stalk her obsession, I mean crush. This could’ve been avoided if the Dupain-Chengs were going to Shanghai for the purpose of celebrating Wang Cheng’s bday and then Adrien just so happened to be in Shanghai.

Also this means LB left Paris without telling CN! I know CN did the same but again he can’t purify the akumas. Plus he has a reason he couldn’t stay in Paris, Mari just went cause her crush did. Great guardianship there Marinette.

This was also the last time CN actually did something. Even if it was for a short while before LB and her female partner took over (the beginning of a theme…)

Other things:

There are 2 other things that I wanna say but felt they needed a separate bit.

In Furious Fu, Su-Han has a rule book that he uses to tell Marinette which rules she has broken. At the end of the episode he tells her that is she breaks 1 more rule that he will take the Miraculous and the Miracle Box off her, which fair enough but wouldn’t it be helpful to leave the rule book with her?! How can she be wary of not breaking anymore rules when she doesn’t even know what the rules are??

Now the big one: Master Fu…

Where do I even start with him. He is so fucking manipulative!! He is Asian Dumbledore!

He decides to leave these extremely powerful jewels in the hands of 13 year olds! Surely leaving the miraculous to someone in their 20s would’ve been better!

He clearly favours LB over CN even though the Ladybug and Black Cat are supposed to be partners! Wouldn’t it make sense for them both to be in contact with the guardian from the start?? He randomly started introducing rules such as if LB and CN find out each other’s identities they would lose their miraculous… what kind of bullshit rule is that? It also came out of fucking nowhere!

Final Thoughts:

But to summarise all of that: Miraculous is on quite a steep decline but I’m invested at this point and I am genuinely curious as to where the fuck this will go.

Marinette needs professional fucking help before the writers even consider canonising Adrienette cause at the moment she is not what Adrien needs!

Adrien needs to stand up for himself! He needs to pull LB to the side and tell her what he feels and what he’s going through cause he is on the precipice of a breakdown!

(Small point that’s more to do with the fandom: when searching for fanfics it’s really annoying that Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir Bashing is a tag but Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug Bashing isn’t. Why does everyone think Marinette can do no wrong???)

#miraculous fandom #miraculous ladybug #miraculous salt #adrien agreste #marinette dupen chang #marinette salt #master fu salt #ladybug and chat noir #fandom salt #thomas astruc salt #adrien deserves better #miraculous season 4 #miraculous season 3 #miraculous rant

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

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At the End of Your Rope (Jeff the Killer X F!Reader)

At the End of Your Rope

[Jeff the Killer X F!Reader]

[Warnings: heavy domestic abuse, violence, murder (not heavily described though), language]

[AN: This one's kinda heavy in some places. Take care of yourself first and foremost.]

It was rare that you had moments to yourself and even rarer when you found yourself enjoying those moments. Usually, you were tense, on edge, bitey and waiting to snap or invert back into yourself. That is what it does to you. It takes away, it destroys and it saps you of all your energy, your drive and your will.

No matter, that’s not what you’re supposed to be thinking about. You hum softly as you do the dishes, wondering how long this set of plates will last until he returns. You scrub hard at the bits still stuck to it, wondering how on earth he even managed to get this much filth plastered onto its surface - you made the meal, served it to him, you even took it back to the sink. Was he trying to key you off?

You took in a deep breath and scratched at its surface, only smiling softly when the piece finally dislodged from the blue floral design. You ran it under the sink, lukewarm water feeling alien against your skin as you continued to mindlessly rinse off the suds. As you began to stare off into space and by extension, the void, you found yourself remembering the times he used to bring you blue flowers at the beginning of every date.

A long time ago, when you were starry eyed about the world around you, he loved you deeply and truly. And it was the most strange of couplings, but they do say that opposites attract.

Last class of the day, what a relief. What wasn’t a relief was that it was chemistry. You’d never been particularly good at the subject, but you would often try your hardest and so far, throughout the year, had managed to coast by with a -B. It wasn’t perfect but it was good enough.

For the people around you who knew you better than that, they were more than surprised you hadn’t managed an A in the class just yet. You were the over achiever, the smart girl, the one who knew it all. But not in a cocky way, no, of course not. You were sweet, helpful and kind. That’s what spared you from how cruel teenagers can get - your aura was incredible and people would be absolutely dense to not like you. For the most part, you were quiet and only spoke to a few close friends.

Unfortunately for you, your last period chemistry class didn’t have any of your dear ones near. You sat in the middle of the classroom, attempting to take notes and kept your head down, honestly focused on the material when you heard laughter from the back of the classroom.

“Don't make me come back there,” your teacher said, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Do I need to split you up?”

“No, sorry Mrs. Haut,” a dark haired boy piped up.

Mrs. Haut rolled her eyes slightly before going back to writing on the chalkboard. She was talking about the electron configuration of atoms or something like that when the laughter picked back up again. Mrs. Haut sighed again before continuing writing. “One of you move up here by Miss Reader, another by Miss. Rhys, and another by Mr. Clarke.”

The three boys in the back verbally voice their distaste with their teacher’s decision but ultimately went along with it. You buried yourself in your notes even deeper when you realized just who it was sitting next to you. Usually, the person sitting next to you wouldn’t bother you, but the fact that this was by far the most disruptive person in the class had you a little flustered. You couldn’t afford skipping the notes or getting sidetracked especially with midterms coming up.

“You have a pen?” He asked quietly.

That made you pause. “Excuse me?”

“A pen..?” He repeated, albeit a little slowly, as to really get the point across.

You didn’t want to disrupt your teacher any further by the idle chit chat and quietly rummaged in your bag for a pen. Once your fingers grazed the object, you plopped it back onto the desk and got back to writing.

“Thanks,” he said.

Your eyes wandered from your notes over to him - and he smiled at you. Fighting back slight heat, you began scribbling down the notes with a nod as if to say ‘no problem.’

The lesson continued on for a little bit longer until you felt him gently poking your shoulder. You pried your eyes off of the board to give him the attention he so desperately craved. With an eyebrow raised, you asked him what was on his mind.

“What’s your name?” He asked softly.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks - how the hell did he miss your name? You were the only consistent question asker in this class! “... Reader,” you answered, eyes narrowed slightly at the fact he’d miss your name. Though, you do suppose what else could you expect from a class clown? “And what is your name?” You asked simply out of politeness.

His eyes widened in shock, and his face followed in suit. “You seriously don’t know?”

When you shook your head he gave a quiet, but exasperated groan and then flew into a tanger about who he was. The guy who set all those frogs loose last year, the same one who orchestrated turning all the furniture upside down, the guy who did donuts on the football field and the one who covered half the auditorium on elaborate post it notes art.

And unfortunately for you, none of those rang a bell. “I knew someone did it, but I didn’t know you were the one who did it.”

And that spirited yet another tangent from the boy sitting next to you. He went into painstaking detail about how he even got some of those things done, and you pretended to care, more so interested in the passion in his eyes than the actual content of the story. He was a surprisingly good storyteller! You hadn’t even realized the both of you had been chatting more than note taking when everything went dead silent. Much too silent.

“Miss Reader, I am more than disappointed in you,” Mrs. Haut said with another frown pulling on her red lips. “Both of you, detention.”

Your eyes widened in shock as she slapped down two pink slips on your shared table.

“Again?” The boy next to you asked incredulously, taking the note into his fingertips along with his bag in the other hand. “Mrs. H, this is like the second time this month!”

Mrs. Haut only shook her head and gestured towards the door, her shoe tapping impatiently on the ground.

“There’s only thirty more minutes left of class,” you said as you began to pack up your things. “I... “ Upon seeing your teacher’s tired expression,and not being one to directly challenge authority, you relented. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled before taking the slip into your grip and exiting her classroom. You took in a deep breath and trudged out of the classroom, wondering how you would explain to your parents your record had a spot on it when you exited the classroom and closed the door softly behind you.

“Do you know where the room is?” You posed your question to the resident class clown with a crestfallen expression.

“You’re actually planning on going?” He said it like it was a surprise.

“Uh, yeah? Where else would I be going?”

“I don’t know, but we can figure it out.” He smiled widely at you and plucked the pink slip from your hand.

“Wait what-? Give that back!” You cried out as quietly as you could to not disturb the other classes.

“C’mon, Princess, come and get it,” he teased. It didn’t sound like he had malice in his tone though.

You chased him through the hall attempting to get the slip back, narrowly avoiding the watchful gaze of hall monitors and the like when you found he had led you out to the parking lot. You didn’t have a car.

“Let’s go,” he beamed, scrunching up both of your pink slips in his hand before tossing them into the trash. “I wasn’t joking about figuring it out together.”

“I… But-”

“But nothing, Princess. Live a little.” He nodded for you to follow him, and you, feeling much too awkward to challenge someone, found yourself being led by him to his car. It wasn’t a fancy car, but it wasn’t near as run down as you expected it to be. It looked like he kept it relatively decent, and the scent was that of lemon. Whatever, live a little.

You slid into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt as he became once again.

“Atta girl!” He chuckled as the car roared to life. He then flicked on the radio, turned up some music and the two of you left the school.

You can’t quite say you’ve ever had fun like that before. He took you to a diner, out bowling, you two snuck into a movie theatre then got smoothies before he dropped you off at home. And he was so sweet and kind throughout it all. He made you laugh, listened to you attentively, and over smoothies, he attempted to help you study a bit. It was moot, but it was nice that he even attempted.

That was what started a beautiful friendship that lasted throughout the rest of that academic year. Later, it blossomed into a relationship, and further, it transformed into marriage. The day he asked you to marry him was one of the best days of your entire life - and then, you were convinced you had met your soulmate. He was everything you’d ever wanted in a partner, and he was oh so helpful and attentive.

High school sweethearts was what you were referred to, and you both fit the image so well. You were practically glowing anytime anyone had seen you. Your marriage had happened too fast, but you were convinced he was your one and only unaware that growth comes in many forms. And in this specific case, the roots have burst the pot.

Back then, he used to give you flowers nearly every day in various shades of the rainbow. Blue seemed to be the preferred though.

“You always get these, why?” You had asked one evening, fingertips gently petting the soft petals.

“Apparently, they mean something poetic,” he replied before pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “That’s what the flower guy keeps telling me. And they’re kinda hard to find,” he continued, eyes looking out at the starry night sky the two of you laid under. “So, whenever they come in, I grab them tight and bring them back to my baby.”

You giggled slightly before shutting him off with a kiss.

They were damn near unattainable after the two of you had gotten married. It seemed they’d gone out of style, or perhaps they just weren’t thriving as they used to. One day, when you were lonely and missing your husband, you pulled out an old book on various flora and fauna. You must’ve spent hours upon hours learning about the area you lived in when you chanced upon a dash of blue.

Cornflowers, they were cornflowers.

The flowers on the plate you’d run under the faucet for far too long weren’t the same shade of blue, but they were just as pretty. It’s a shame that these plates would most likely be broken before the month was out.

Gods, when did he change? It was hard to pinpoint it because the two of you had been under each other’s spell for a good chunk of that time. When did he flip the switch? When did he… You shook your head and turned off the faucet, deciding you were done with the dishes for now. Accidentally, when you were placing the plate back in its place, you bumped your forearm on the counter. With a wince, you hissed and mentally reminded yourself to mind the bruises that were still fresh there. He gripped your wrist so hard that night you were sure it was going to snap right off.

He really wasn’t like this in the beginning and your mind raked constantly with reasons as to why when you laid awake at night hoping he wouldn’t go too far or burn a bridge only to find it needed to be rebuilt with supplies that no longer existed.

It was nearing the late evening and he wasn’t supposed to be home until later in the night. You could afford to relax for just a little longer. With a deep breath, you walked up the stairs dead set on drawing a bath to just let your mind go blank. Hidden away in the bathroom sink’s cabinet was a ‘mix’ of herbs and such a dear friend of yours had said would aid in relaxing your soul and maybe your wounds. You could only use the clumsy excuse for so long.

You opened the door to your bathroom, quietly shut it behind you and didn’t bother locking it. If he was here, you might have, but you weren’t expecting him back until much, much later. You could afford to breathe. You drew the faucet and let it run for a moment or two until the water got a little warmer, then you plugged the tub and let it fill. You crouched down and poked your hand around towards the back of the bathroom sink before finding the jar filled with herbs and salts. It smelled divine even when closed. Unscrewing the lid, you are able to take in the scent of lavender, chamomile, rosebuds, sweet lemongrass and vanilla. Pink sea salt for added effect made the bath look heavenly when you poured in a generous scoop. As the water heated the herbs, you notice the rosebuds blooming into large, pink and red flowers. It was nothing short of magickal and filled you with some type of serenity.

Once the water was to your liking, you stripped and got into the tub, sighing in contentment as the water heated your form up. And from there, you let your mind go blank and take in the aroma of the herbs and flowers. You feel the stress leaving your body. You wish you could feel like this forever.

You allow your brain to wander as you relax and find it going back to your husband every single time. If he wasn’t asked to sit next to you, would you have been in this awful situation now? This was no way to live - and you wondered if you had just gone to detention that day if things would be different, or perhaps better. You thought you were able to pinpoint when everything went wrong when yet another starting point would come into your mind. It was like your brain was purposely making you move the goalposts so you wouldn’t be retraumatized by anything all over again.

It started small and in little bouts. He lost his patience with you. If you accidentally burnt the pancakes? It was alright but don’t let it happen again. Over watered the petunias just once? Great, now he needed to go to the store and pick up some new ones should those suffer root rot that was relatively treatable. Couldn’t get dinner ready on time? What a mess. Said something slightly off base? Your intelligence was being actively questioned. It kept snowballing until it reached the first time he hit you. Which was a dark enough day that you rather not think about.

He said he loved you. That he would protect you and make sure you were safe from all harm. But he broke that the moment his hand slapped your face so hard you felt the air leave your lungs. That was a really dark day, but it was not the darkest yet.

You must’ve spent close to an hour in the bath when you heard the front door opening. Shit, he wasn’t supposed to be back. You feel your heart pounding as you leap out of the bath, quickly drying yourself before throwing your clothes back on. In your haste, you forget to unplug the bath. But it’s too late, you hear him coming up the stairs. Seconds later, he’s in your shared bedroom.

“Reader? Where are you?” He sounds exhausted. Upon seeing the bathroom door closed, he stalks up to it. “Reader? Open up, Princess.”

It’s not the first time he’s tried to soften the blow like this.

“I-I’m still in the tub-”

“Sure, sure, sweetie,” he hums. “Can you uh, tell me why you haven’t gotten any food ready if you were going to fuck around in the tub like this then?”

Your heart constricts and your stomach twists. “I didn’t know you were gonna be home this early,” you say softly, ready to brace the door.

“Oh you forgot,” he says as if he’s speculating whether that was a decent answer or not. “You forgot,” he repeats. He stands in front of the bathroom door, swaying slightly like he’s waiting for you to come to you. “Come out of the bathroom.”

“I just drew it-”

“Did I ask for your excuses?”

“No-”

“Then come out of the FUCKING BATHROOM!” He hits the door so hard you thought you heard it splintering.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You cried out as you immediately rammed against the door, struggling to keep your husband back from breaking it down.

He didn’t answer, only continued to rattle off about everything wrong. She kicked the door harder and harder, sending you bouncing against the wood. You continued to cry out in pain but dug your shoulder into the door as you prayed it would be enough to keep him out.

“Stop, stop, STOP IT!” You felt tears pour out from your eyes as your husband pounded the door. “You’re being crazy right now, stop it!” Your throat felt raw with anguish as you continued to screech, head coming dangerously close to bouncing against the door as your husband began kicking it.

Eventually, he succeeded. He backed up, reared his leg up and took three hard hits, successfully kicking the door down. You went flying down with it and tumbled down the tile floor with a yelp of pain, landing sharply on your hip. You looked up through your pain and saw he was standing before you, fists balled and nothing but rage in his eyes.

“I told you to fucking let me in,” he seethes as he narrows in on you. Before he can touch you, his eyes travel to the tub. “And now you’re clogging up my fucking pipes?” He asks in an exasperated tone as he feels his blood pressure rise. “You need to learn a lesson,” he sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. “When dogs are just puppies and they have an accident,” he begins as he bends down to the ground and nears you as you struggle to crawl away from him. “You take their nose and bury it into their mess.” He finishes. He straddles your waist and sloughs off your weak attempts to get him off of you.

You continue to cry and scream, beg and plead as his hands snake up your arms and to your hair. And your eyes widen as he takes a fistfull and then roughly stands up, dragging your body up with him.

“You fucking dog,” he spits as he drags you upwards. He begins to drag you towards the tub.

“No, NO!” You plead as you dig your heels into the tile, trying to grip onto the sink for dear life as he continues to drag you. You feel your strands of hair damn near get lifted from your scalp as he continues to yank you. He’ll kill you if you don’t put up a fight. “I’m sorry! Gods, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Whatever I did to piss you off I promise that it won’t happen again!” You attempt to reason as he finally pries your hands off the sink.

“You should’ve known that to begin with,” he replies as he pulls your hair harder. He then brings you to the tub and roughly shoves you to its lip. You catch yourself and try to get away when he pushes at the back of your head. You still continue to fight him, crying and pleading even harder as your husband kicks in the back of your legs, attempting to cripple you further to get you to bend. You continue to push back, staring into the now cold bath like it’s a watery grave.

A scream rips through your throat as he hits the back of your skull, having you gasping for air and consciousness. He takes that moment as your weakness and finally overpowers you. Your head is thrust below the waters, and you find yourself screeching all the while. From above the water’s surface, you can hear your once beloved husband muttering about you and the faults of your character as he holds you under the water. Before you can even register that air is in your lungs again, you’re plunged back into the water, coughing and hacking all the while as he does so.

When he grows tired of continually plunging your head into the water, he picks up your lower half and tosses you in, sending the water and herbs flying everywhere as your clothed body enters the freezing tub. Your tears mix with the remnants of the bathwater as he holds you under, nothing but rage in his eyes as he does.

When you feel like it’s too much, you begin to let go. Perhaps darkness would be a nicer sight than the sunrise of tomorrow.

You open your eyes slowly to see that you’re still in the tub and laying in a small pool of water that isn’t enough to harm you regardless of how you were laid. You feel aches all over and you feel like water is weighing down your lungs. Slowly, you get to your bearings as you prop yourself up. Step by step and painstaking muscle movement by muscle movement, you stand and grip the edge of the tub, realizing you need to change out of your clothes. You pause momentarily to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Gods,” you whisper to yourself. You look like you were in a car accident. There’s bruises on your throat and your face from where he tried to slam you into the bathtub, and your face is puffy and discolored from crying. Your hair is knotted and you feel like no amount of conditioner on earth can get that out - to even think about detangling it is a nightmare. Your clothes are ripped and waterlogged. Everything about you screams pathetic. When you turn your head and look at the door, you see it’s broken beyond repair. He kicked it out of its latches and the wood itself is splintered in two.

You quietly step out of the bathroom, ready to change into drier clothes when you see your husband sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You feel yourself begin to shiver, momentarily feeling your mind drift elsewhere to protect your brain from further trauma.

“You’re finally up,” he says, a blank expression on his face. “Are you okay?”

You feel disgust come up in the back of your throat but swallow it back down in favor of not angering him further. “I’m fine,” you lie, not bothering to plaster on a smile.

“Good.” He slowly stands up. “I’m heading out. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” He holds his arms out to you.

Shivering and absolutely terrified, you find yourself bending to his will. Quietly, you pad across the carpet to him and allow yourself to be wrapped up in his arms. His arms feel like a metal cage as they wrap around your quivering form.

“I’m sorry,” he says emptily as he buries his nose into your hair. “It won’t happen again.” He sways the two of you side to side as he holds you a little tighter, not bothering to mind the bumps and bruises he inflicted on your body.

You internally sigh and hollowly nod, allowing him to hold you.

He said that the last time.

It’s been a few days since your husband flew off the handle like that. Your husband stayed in the house, but like every time before, he pretended nothing had happened and instead vied for avoiding you. In a day or so, he’d be back to pretending he still loved you. But, your mind wasn’t entirely on him coming back to you and acting sweet - it was on everything in between.

See, this isn’t the first time that something of this caliber has happened to you. Convenience was something that seemed to pop up in your life more often than not, and you’d just accepted it. The first time you could remember it was when you were in your garage, trying to have a moment alone after your husband had shoved you into a wall for not making the potatoes the way he wanted (what a stupid thing to be upset over). As you sat at the workbench, sobbing quietly, your attention was pulled towards a thing of antifreeze. It was just propped up there. You don’t remember buying it, nor did you remember your husband buying it either. Neither of you regularly did car maintenance, nor did it seem like the kind used for a pool (which neither of you had). What on earth was it even doing here?

You quietly picked up the bottle and tossed it before your husband came calling for you to redo the potatoes.

The second time you noticed something much too conveniently placed was when the coffee in front of you was decaf. Your husband was terrible at waking up in the mornings, and the only thing that kept him up was his morning coffee on the drive to work. Well, one morning it was decaf in the keurig- and you almost didn’t notice it. The last time that happened, he’d almost swerved off the road. In a panic, you switched it to the right one before he noticed. If neither of you did, it could have claimed his life as the drive from your neck of the woods to the city was kind of dodgy in general.

The third most prominent time was semi-recently. You were cooking and once you finished, carried about your day. When you stopped by the kitchen to grab your keys and head to town for some shopping, you noticed that the gas was left on. Your husband was due to come home soon - if it stayed on for any longer, it might have killed him. Of course, you turned it off, but your hand lingered on the dial just a moment longer, wondering what would have happened if you didn’t turn it off. Feeling monstrous for even letting that thought pop into your head, you pulled back your hand like you had thrown it into the fire.

Those were just some of the most prominent things that happened. There were also little things that occurred as well, such as the TV always being clicked onto certain types of true crime documentaries entailing warring spouses, or the reading material being a tad too detailed in how to get away with things that obviously weren't legal. It started with petty theft, or piracy, and then moved onto other things that were much too unpleasant for you to even detail. All of these things seemed to be calling you towards something more sinister than you had ever imagined.

And until now, you’d managed to hold it all back. Sure, you entertain yourself by watching the documentaries and reading the material (which you wonder deeply who put it in your mailbox to begin with) but you never actually thought to harm him, did you?

It all came to a head a few weeks after the bathtub incident. He pushed you around plenty since then, but it hadn’t crossed the threshold like what happened back then - and that was enough to keep you at bay until this specific dinner. Apparently, your husband had missed out on a promotion given to someone younger and more ambitious than him and that killed him on the inside. He had a chip on his shoulder and he was dead set on taking it out on you.

“Gave it to that little prick,” he mumbles as he stabs at his food.

“I’m sure you’ll get it next time-”

“Next time? That’s half a fucking year away,” your husband replies as he bites down on his food. “Worthless job and can’t even move up in it. Stuck in this hellhole,” he continues to mutter as he stabs around.

Not wanting to even think about flaring him, you just drink uncomfortably at your water. “Is…” You close your mouth, not wanting to even hear his voice.

“No, no, finish your thought,” he says with a deep sigh.

“It’s not important.”

“My wife has something to say, she says it.”

“No, really I-”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Reader, spit it out.”

“Is the food okay?” You ask quietly as you avert your eyes to anywhere but at him. You gulp thickly, worrying that you’ve upset him further and lament even opening your mouth up to begin with.

“It’s awful,” he replies before taking another bite. “You must really be testing me, y’know that?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“I know.”

Uncomfortable silence passes between the two of you as dinner goes on with that same unease. You practically exude discomfort as you sit there, picking at your food and not wanting to even stomach it as long as this monster sits across from you. You wonder if your husband is going to go on one of his tangents when he answers that useless question by opening his mouth.

He talks a lot about how much he hates work, his coworkers, his lot in life, literally anything he could complain about and everything. He has such a hatred for the world around him that you wonder if it was always hiding just below the surface when you first met him. Probably. People tend to grow into who they were always meant to be as the years go on.

“And you,” he continues, pointing his fork in an accusatory manner at you. “You are the worst part of it,” he says as he narrows his eyes. He does this to you at every meal. And by the end of it, he’s always so riled up he almost breaks the plates. “Remember that girl, Jada? From honors math?”

You quietly nod.

“I should’ve married her. Girl with some brains and a nice ass,” he muses. “Instead I settled for you. Worthless, bruised and battered, puffy faced you,” he says with absolute vitriol, getting more and more riled up as his complaints carry on. “Hell, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been thrown in detention again either.”

“That wasn’t my fault-”

“Oh so she speaks, does she?” He stands up.

You brace yourself.

“You know better than that,” he says lowly like a tiger waiting to pounce. “Than to talk back to me in my OWN GODDAMN HOUSE!” The plates and the dinner go flying off the table as he roughly shoves his arms across it.

There go the plates that reminded you of something nicer.

You immediately stand up and gasp, your chair flying back as you do so. Your hands fly up as your husband’s hands grip ar your wrists, his power taking over your frail form as he begins hurling you backwards to the countertop.

“Teach you to talk to me like that again,” he growls as he slams you down onto the counter, wrists not being jostled into his one hand. “You’ll never learn,” he mumbles, strill wrangling you down to the countertop.

From the corner of your eye, you could see him reaching towards the knife rack - and you see your very life fly before your eyes as he palms one.

You begin to repeat no like a mantra as he grips the knife and then lets go of your wrists, hsi hand going to the collar of your shirt. You cry out as your hands balled into fists and start punching, your legs being held by his body as his hand latches onto your throat and squeezes. Tears prick your eyes once again as his eyes flick down to your shirt.

“Stop!” You weakly cry out as his fingers dig into your flesh.

He raises the knife, a mad look on his faze as the steel catches the light. It shines, and then comes plunging down.

You scream as the knife is stabbed much too close to your neck, instead trapping you by snagging your shirt to the counter.

“You stay here and think about all the trouble you’ve caused,” he says in a ‘bubbling with rage’ tone as he shoves your head into the counter. “And clean up this mess.”

Once he leaves and slammed the front door shut, you pry yourself free from the knife and then fall to the floor sobbing, once again feeling your heart broken over your husband treating you so. But, once the rain fell, all that came was a ping - a spark. As you finally composed yourself and began cleaning his mess, the spark ignited to a flame that grew like wildfire in your mind’s eyes as you gingerly picked up the pieces of plates that you held such saccharine fondness over.

You couldn’t stand for this anymore.

With exhaustion sweeping over your body and the kitchen now cleaned, you allow yourself to move on autopilot and move upwards towards your bedroom. You don’t bother changing and plop down onto it. You stare at your ceiling, wondering if you should run away or - oh! Here comes a thought. With your eyes inching towards your nightstand, you finally give into the overwhelming feeling to open the drawer and you do so. Your hand gropes around before you finally touch something cold. Your mind lurches once you realize what it is.

You sit up, more than surprised to see the handle of a gun under your fingertips. On it is a sticky note with a smiley face: ‘don’t forget to turn off the safety :)’. A shiver of horror runs down your spine when you realize there’s a silencer attached to it. Gods, you knew he had a gun but a silencer? Everything about this - you knew it was wrong.

But holding it in your hand… That felt right.

You decided to stay quiet on things for now and think. Afterall, he was stronger than you. You couldn’t just confront him with the gun. He might wrestle it out of you and shoot you instead. You couldn’t take that kind of risk right now. So, you waited, looked over the gun some more, and waited.

Your husband entered back into the house at some gods awful time at night, more than pleased to see the house was back in order as it should be as he closed the door behind him. He was exhausted on all facets (though it could not hold a candle to how you were feeling) as he trudged up the stairs.

You laid in bed, pretending to be asleep. You knew what had to be done.

When your husband came in, huffed and got ready for bed, you itched for the trigger. You knew you had to act soon, but not too fast or he could hurt you again an take you out instead. Your breath hitched when you felt him sit on the bed and get comfortable, of course, turned away from you.

You took in a deep breath, closed your eyes, and held the gun in your hand once you felt him slip into sleep. The moments felt like hours as you quietly sat up and held the gun in your hands. Were you really going to do this?

Your mind flashed with hundreds upon hundreds of possibilities. At one point, a long time ago, you loved him. You loved him deeply and truly.

You took aim.

You shot.

Gods, if you knew it was going to be this hard to drag his body out here, you would’ve chosen a different place to shoot him. Dragging your now dead husband through the woods behind your house was an absolutely miserable process. You were working up a sweat as you did so and it was so dark that you could hardly make heads or tails of anything.

Finally, guided by the moonlight, you came to a place that looked more than decent. It was far enough, and the growth here was so heavy that if you tumbled the earth around, it would hardly look like anyone had disturbed it to begin with.

“Always making things harder on me,” you mumble as you toss his limp body back to the earth before you juggle the shovel you’d dragged along into your hands. You let your mind go blank as you began to cut into the soil.

A plethora of thoughts entered into your head as you shoveled away, making a deep enough hole to throw your deceased husband in. In a way, you didn’t think he deserved a hole this nice, but you knew deep down you had to hide the body. You continued to shovel, and once you finally made it deep enough to your liking, rolled his body into the ground.

“Didn’t think you had it in you,” a low, slightly gravelly voice chuckles, slow clapping.

“Who’s there?” You ask in a slightly panicked tone, holding the shovel up like a weapon. “I… I won’t hesitate-”

“Don’t make me laugh,” the voice continues, a playful bite on every syllable. “No, no, you did good.”

Your eyes frantically look around for the voice when you hear a whistle. There, behind you, is a man. Possibly mid 20s, shoulder length black hair, pale skin that rivals the light of the moon, wearing a hoodie covered in things you’d rather not think of and taller than you by a good head or so.

“You gonna put the shovel down?” He asks with a brow raised.

Hesitantly, you lower the shovel in your grasp just to let him get a little closer. Your eyes widen when you see he’s cut a smile into his face. “Who… Who are you?”

“I’ll tell you if you finish your job here,” he says as he nods to the uncovered, deceased body of your husband. “And before you go through the typical ‘oh my gods, are you gonna turn me in’ bullshit so many of you seem to go through, rest assured that I’m not gonna do anything to you. Just finish your job. Can you do that for me, Bird?” He leans against the tree, looking at you with a small smark.

A mind too frazzled for anything else, you nod and get back to work. It doesn’t take near as long to fill the hole as it did to carve it out, which was a pleasant surprise. When you were done, you wiped the sweat from your brow.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you held the shovel firmly in your hands.

“Checking in on you,” he replies. “You want to go back to your house and-”

“No,” you cut him off, eyes averting down the ground. “Anywhere but there right now.” You say softly, gesturing to the disturbed earth.

The man pops off the tree and stalks over to the hole you’d covered, lightly shoving some foliage on top of it. “Okay, still sensitive. I get that,” he hums. “Follow me then. Let’s take a walk.” He nods for you to follow, blue eyes silently telling you to bring the shovel along with you.

Not wanting to be near his body anymore despite it being packed below the ground, you relent and follow.

“So, you did good, really good,” the man says as he puts his hands back in his hoodie pockets.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You ask, quickly matching pace with him. “And I never did get your name..?” You trail off slightly, taking in the deep scent of the woods around you. The scent of pine and autumn fills your nose.

“Because you did my job for me, and it’s Jeff,” he replies, his arm momentarily pushing back some low hanging pines. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you for a while, Bird.” He chuckles softly when he sees your confused expression.

“Really? Bird?” You repeat in a dry tone, face deadpanning at the very mention of it. “Job?”

“You’re flighty, like a bird, and judging by how fast you switch topics, bird.” He smiles, continuing to lead you further and further into the woods and away from your now empty house. “Little while back, I was asked to kill your husband. But, I saw you during one of my stalking outings and well, thought I could make things interesting.” He says it like it’s nothing and common knowledge.

“You what?” You ask in a surprised tone. “You stalked us?”

“Well, yeah,” Jeff says. “Normally, I don’t take that much care in my work. I tend to gut first and never ask questions, but you posed something interesting in my wake.”

“Holy fuck,” you murmur as you continue to trot throguh the woods. “We’re both going to jail.”

“Me? Absolutely not. You? Well,” he turns his attention to the deer path laid before the two of you and smiles at the open, moonlit field. “Depends on how you’ll answer my question.”

The two of you step through the remaining brush and finally reach the field. You had no idea this place was even behind your house or even so close. Tall grass rising to your waist sways gently in the wind as you step out of the trees and into the open air. Stars dot the sky as the moon hangs overhead. This place feels nostalgic. Out in the distance is a little stone structure, and upon Jeff taking you closer to it, it’s a little stone shelter.

“Take a seat, gonna be a while,” Jeff says as he rummages around in his pocket. He pulls out a lighter, bends down and lights the pieces of wood conveniently left inside of it, and the night is no longer cold.

You get comfortable and let your exhausted body rest. “Have you been watching me for long?”

“Longer than necessary,” Jeff answers as he cracks his back before finally getting comfortable. “But, I only watched you from a distance. Tell me about yourself first, let me know it wasn’t a mistake to let you breathe.” He smirks at you and winks, sending shivers down your spine.

You take in a deep breath, not really feeling anything but exhaustion and decide to tell him. You tell him everything, about your childhood, about little intricacies and so on. You told him about high school and how you met your husband. Little stories, anecdotes, memories and feelings resurfaced as you detailed how everything was bliss. And then one day, it wasn’t.

“Something in him snapped and went rotten,” you sigh. “And he hurt me. Hurt me really bad.”

Jeff looks up from the fire to see how the light dances across your skin. It’s here that he’s finally able to see the extent of your dead husband’s power over you. Bruises darker than your natural shade line your skin like oddly erased marks on a stubborn piece of paper. Your eyes are hollow, devoid of all life. Hair from your scalp is oddly placed as if it’s still trying to grow back. Your posture conveys nothing but pure exhaustion.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a tone that’s much more gruff than he originally means. It’s not that he doesn’t genuinely feel bad, it’s that he’s awful at actually verbalizing it. In truth, Jeff doesn’t like abusers. They make him feel wrong, make him feel like something’s not fair. Jeff like to fancy himself as someone who goes by the rule of ‘equality.’ If you pick on someone weaker than you with them having no chance of fighting back or at least inflicting the same damage back, you are nothing but a coward who gets off on hurting smaller people. And that in his mind is nothing short of detestable. “Guess good on me for letting you take him out, huh?”

You look at him with an odd mixture of confusion and absolute relief. “I guess,” you say, the sound of serenity slipping into your tone. “And what about you? What originally sent you out here?”

“Tall guy in a suit,” he stated, a small scowl pulling at his lips. “Y’know, he’s interested in you.”

“Tall guy in a suit?”

“Slender Man. I call him ‘Pale Ass’ though. He’s like… A murderous businessman. Has little drones to do his work even though he’s more than capable of doing it himself. And that’s where you come in.” Jeff shifts slightly and fixes his posture. “He’s the guy who originally wanted your husband dead. Sent me to do it.”

“Why did he want him dead?” You inquire. You knew your husband had done some dodgy things, especially with how strangely he was acting within the last few years as his abuse ran up, but you originally assumed he was cheating or something. Maybe into some other shady things. What on earth could he have done to garner the attention of some murderer kingpin?

“Saw something he shouldn’t have. My guess is Toby - maybe Theo. Both of them suck at covering up their tracks,” Jeff laughs slightly. “Probably saw one of us hiding a body, committing a murder, shit, he could’ve stumbled on some finals when he obviously shouldn’t have done that. Regardless, it got Slender’s attention, and now he’s dead because of it,” Jeff continues as he casts his eyes from you to the flickering flames. “You remember that night he fell asleep in his car in the garage?”

You nod.

“Almost took him out right there.” Jeff’s brows furrow slightly. “Something stopped me and then I saw you. The way he reacted to you asking if he wanted a certain type of potato made me giggle, and then I got a thought.”

“The antifreeze…”

“Yeah, the antifreeze. I’d noticed you were being pushed around for a while, honestly planning on taking you out to give you some rest but,” his eyes flash, “seemed more fun to get you into it too.” He sighs and leans back. “Was it cathartic?”

You find yourself uncomfortably shifting and wanting to answer with ‘no, of course not! I killed someone,’ before realizing that wouldn't be truthful. It was cathartic to put an end to his life. It was cathartic to finally bring justice for yourself in a way that no prison system would allow. “It… It was.” You admit, shyly and quietly like confessing to a bad secret.

“Feels nice to admit it, right?” He smiles.

“It does.”

“Now, imagine doing that to other pieces of shit,” he says as he sits up again. “Imagine being able to do that to every monster that’s ever hurt anyone just like you/”

You close your eyes and feel the red hot rage tingle your fingertips. Being able to unload on your dead husband was more than pleasing - in fact, it was nice, and dare you say, fun. The thought of being able to do that to other people who hurt others like that, while a far off possibility now as you were still frail, was still a possibility nonetheless.

“I mean, where else do you have to go?” Jeff continues, watching as you toss the thought around in your head. “You’d never get caught. He’d handle it all right now. You’d be free.” Jeff stands up and begins crossing the distance to meet you. His shadow walks alongside him. Dusk hangs in the air. “Or, if this isn’t to your liking, you can join him.”

“What?” You question, eyes flicking up from Jeff’s shoes to his eyes.

“You gotta understand,” he begins as he crouches in front of you. “If you say no and

decide to deal with the fallout like a normal human being, you’ll be caught and most likely killed for it. You’d be at the end of your rope.”

You feel an ocean of emotions swell up inside of you. “And if I… What would you even have me do if I followed you?”

“I’ll take you to meet him, and we’ll see what happens next. He’ll cover for you. You won’t ever have to see this place ever again.”

The sun begins to peek over the horizon. The fire is dying down. You can hear birds chirping in the early morning sky as fluffy clouds bid good morning to the dimming stars in the sky.

“Let’s get outta here, Bird.” Jeff stands up, holding out his hand.

You take in a deep breath, hand hovering over his. You thought of your husband, your life and everything that had ever happened to lead up to this moment. You’d gone this far, and there was clearly no going back. Another deep breath in and you pressed your hand down to his.

Jeff’s smile bloomed once again.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer x reader #reader insert #x reader #creepypasta jtk

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dindjarinbae · 4 years

Text

The Scariest Thing (Din Djarin x reader)

MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 SPOILERS AHEAD!

alright so, this was supposed to be finished like 2 weeks ago but i got busy, lazy, and distracted, so im sorry for being late to the party. anyways, this is just a little drabble and i actually kinda like it. i have something else im gonna post tomorrow but until then, here’s this!

WC: 2738

WARNINGS: none, spiders, some language.

Your eye could’ve started twitching. You could’ve smacked the giant tin can of a Mandalorian right on the back of his helmeted head as the Razor Crest settled into the ice caves deep below the surface of the planet of Maldo Kreis. You stared at the back of his head until you were sure holes would melt through the Beskar, but they never came. Mr. Hero Complex himself stood up from his chair and assured the sweet little frog lady that he’d go find her eggs down in the hull, so down the ladder he went and you followed on his heels. You grabbed his shoulder once you were both on solid ground and spun him around to look at you. “Are you crazy Din Djarin?” You asked incredulously, a sharp shiver shooting up your spine from the new, bitter cold air that filtered into the ruined hull.

“What?” He asked gruffly, but he didn’t make any move to remove your hand from his shoulder as he stared down at you. You shook your head and you motioned around with your hand, “Din, you could’ve just told the stupid x-wings the truth! Or something! Now we’re stuck, and we’re gonna freeze and there’s no one around for... I don’t know how far! And the baby, and the eggs and the-“ you were cut off by his gloved finger settling over your lips. He wrapped an arm around your waist and sighed softly. “Please don’t worry. I’ll fix this, okay? Just help me find the eggs and the kid, and I can get to work trying to fix the ship.” Famous last words, because hours later, you sat behind him in the snow, passing him tools while he fixed the outside of the ship when the baby came around the corner to babble in that adorably ridiculous little voice of his. Din looked up from his work and you had to turn your attention that way as well as he spoke, “How ‘bout you come over here, give me a hand? Make yourself useful,” he said to the child who had a strange sense of urgency to his chattering. “I think he’s trying to tell you something,” you hummed and placed your chin against his shoulder while you looked over at the panel he was fixing, and the kid grunted frustratedly before waddling off. Your Mandalorian was not having this and sighed, “Hey, kid,” he tried to get the little green thing’s attention, but to no avail. He had rounded the side of the ship and you were sure if you could see Din’s face right now, he’d be rolling his eyes as he gently shrugged you off and stood up. He offered you his hand and you stood up with him while he called to the baby, “I said hey! Where are you going?” He asked and you took his arm gently, nodding toward the baby, “Come back here!” He called and grew exasperated. “He’s just a kid, Din. Go see what he wants,” you prompted softly and he sighed, once again, and then moved through the snow with you towards the baby. When he rounded the ship, the two of you could see the baby sitting down, facing a set of tracks. Little frog tracks. “When did she go?” Din asked, sinking to one knee next to the little green bundle of energy. He looked over the tracks and lifted the baby up and held his hand towards you, “Come on, Cyare. I don’t want you sitting by yourself back here,” he said, and you grabbed his hand gratefully. “You know, it might be worse in there. You don’t even know what’s living under the ice,” you murmured imagining strange serpents or monsters running around in these ice caves. He scoffed and squeezed your hand just once, “The scariest thing down here is me, lovely,” he stated confidently and walked through the snowy cave with you and the baby, undoubtedly following the frog’s tracks. You were dressed in some of his warmer clothes and wrapped within one of his old cloaks, yet the cold air still made you shiver, and the tip of your nose and fingers turned a bright pink. You pulled yourself closer to Din and looked around at the blue, icy walls around you. There was an eerie calmness to the caves around you and you dared not speak a word as snow crunched underneath your footsteps. You shivered ominously and then looked up at Din, “I don’t like it back here, Din. It’s too quiet,” you said anxiously and he squeezed your hand, yet again. “I always protect you. You know that. Don’t be afraid of an ice cave,” he murmured and you leaned into his side, and he protectively held you to him. The three of you walked through and underneath arches of ice, and the baby squeaked a few times while Din led you into an icy cavern. The frog’s voice echoed from inside of the cavern and Din gently dropped your hand, hurrying toward her, “There you are!” He exclaimed and you looked around the cavern and the strange icy bulbs that protruded from the ground. Your eyes settled on a steaming crater full of warm water where the little frog lady sat contently and you looked over to Din curiously. He moved toward her urgently, checking around himself and you, just in case. “You can’t leave the ship. It’s not safe out here,” he said firmly to the frog and you followed closed behind him, holding his cloak around yourself tightly. He set the mischievous little baby down at the side of the warm water and he began to coo, seeing the snack he was earlier reprimanded for eating. The frog tried to protest Din’s wishes, and even if she spoke the same language, he wouldn’t have budged. Her eggs floated around her in the water and Din told her to gather them, and he reached into the pool to help her, explaining that night was falling and it was becoming more dangerous just before having another go at scolding the child for trying to grab at the eggs bobbing in front of him. The baby whined as he was caught and he waddled towards you. You looked down at him and he held his hand up toward you, his little way of saying he wanted to hold onto your finger, to lead you somewhere. You bent at the waist uncomfortably and he wrapped his three, chubby fingers around your pointer finger and you both waddled along as he lead you to one of the strange oval shaped bulbs coming up from the ground. “Hey, now, buddy. Maybe we should leave that al-“ that suggestion was moot, because he had already dropped your finger to sniff, tap, and tear into the strange thing. A slimy sound echoed through the cave as he tore into the oval and you could’ve gagged watching him dig into the green sludge inside and yank out what looked like... a spider. You hated spiders. If presented with joining the empire or holding a spider, you would’ve joined the empire. If someone asked you to break your own arm or touch a spider... Yeah. You’d be breaking an arm. But if someone asked you to do what the little baby just did or jump out of a flying ship in the middle of space, you would do just that, because the baby stuffed the slimy arachnid into his mouth. You gasped and jumped back, shaking your head, “Ew! Spit that out now! You don’t even know if it’s poisonous or not!” You exclaimed loudly to the baby, who just giggled. The brat wasn’t giggling for very long. The ground began to subtly rumble and all of the little bulbs around you in the cave began to crack and tear, and thin, slimy legs began to rip themselves free. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head and you pushed the baby toward Din, while you ran after him, both of you screaming. Din turned to look at you two, and so did the sweet little frog lady, and that’s when the emerging ice spiders caught his eye. The frog chittered while Din scooped up the baby, and you were now in a full panic, looking around at all the spiders. You grabbed onto his arm and practically climbed up the side of him, making incoherent, terrified noises as you tried to pull him toward the exit. He wrapped an arm around your waist in an ironclad grip and he handed you the baby while he slung the now full canister of eggs over his shoulder. “They’re spiders, Din. Lots of.. Fucking spiders!” You shrieked and latched onto him as tight as you could, once again trying to climb him. He patted your waist and held you to the ground while the frog dressed herself and you watched more flood out of a deeper part of the cave. And as usual, bad went to worse, because out came a bunch of much larger spiders and you let out a piercing scream, pointing at them. And worse went to absolute hell nightmare emergency as a spider, as big as the Razor Crest, crawled out of the cave. “Can we fucking-“ you began to yell as Din cut you off, waving at the frog lady. “Go! Go! Back to the ship!” He commanded, and she wasted no time running that way. You stood frozen as the spider screeched and Din tried to run, but it was clear you weren’t moving. At least you now knew that in a fight or flight situation, you took the secret third action and froze. He grunted and threw you over his shoulder and began to run with you over one shoulder, the eggs over the other, and he had taken the baby back from your grip and tucked him underneath his arm. The baby squealed and you watched the spider open a mouth full of sharp teeth and you screamed as loud as your lungs allowed. “Din! Faster! Fuck, run faster!” You cried and slammed your fists into the back of his armor, and you shook your head as he ran as fast as he could considering the weight he was now carrying. “We’re gonna die we’re gonna die, we’re gonna fucking die!” You sobbed and closed your eyes, trying not to look at the tsunami of spiders following right behind you. Ice fell around all of you as the giant spider slammed holes through the icy ceilings with his legs and you shrieked again, wrapping your arms around Din’s midsection. “We aren’t going to die!” Din called back to you and you shook your head, still blubbering about how you were all going to- probably- die. Din shot at a handful of them with his blaster and you continued crying, clinging to him, “I never wanted to die like this! Because of... fucking spiders!” You cried and shook your head, “Din, please go faster!” You screamed and he growled gruffly in your direction. And that’s when the webs started shooting everywhere. At some point, you must have really just blacked out, because the next thing you knew, there was a blast of fire behind you, and Din was tearing through the snow to get you to the ship. He passed the baby to the frog lady, and she hurried him inside of the ship and he tossed you over his shoulder inside of the hull. You hit the ground with a painful thud and you scrambled backwards to get up, and you grabbed the baby and ushered the frog lady and her eggs up into the cockpit. You could hear the squealing spiders and their legs down below and you cried messily, holding the baby to your chest while you curled up in the pilot’s seat. As soon as Din barreled into the cockpit, the spiders crowded the door, making it impossible to climb. A spider landed on the baby’s head while he sat on your lap and you screamed louder than you ever had in your life, but you couldn’t even finish the scream before the frog was shooting it dead right off the baby’s head. Din shot fire at the remaining spiders until they moved away and the door closed, all the while you watched in absolute terror until he turned around. You heard the disgusting patter of spider legs on the glass above you and Din very gently lifted you from the chair onto the ground next to his chair, “Put your head between your knees, and please, cyare, breathe,” he instructed before pulling the baby into his lap. He turned to the frog lady and nodded once, getting all of the switches above his head turned on, “Strap yourselves in. This better work,” he commanded, and you tucked your head down between your knees and tried to focus on literally anything other than the sound of the spiders. “I’ve got limited visibility. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride,” Din said before the Crest shook to life, and he was not kidding about the bumpy part. You were now rising, up, up. And down. You looked up and saw that the giant spider had now pinned the ship completely down to the ground, and you nearly began to panic again, but Din yanked you up by your arm into his lap with the baby and he tucked your head under his chin, “keep your eyes closed,” he instructed you, and you happily obliged, gripping his arm tightly. Glass shattered from above and you didn’t dare look, you just stayed with your eyes screwed shut and you clenched your jaw, your teeth grinding together. The baby whined next to you, and you placed a hand against his side to calm him. You weren’t sure what was happening next, but you heard blaster fire, and you could see the bright red rays through your eyelids. Din stood up and placed you and the baby down on the chair and he slipped out of the cockpit. You were finally brave enough to open your eyes and you looked over at the frog lady, blinking in disbelief, “Are you okay?” You asked her and you assumed she said what meant yes because she gave you a little nod and she looked up out the window. You heard more blaster fire and some voices outside, including Din’s. There was a loud commotion, which sounded like ships, and within minutes, Din was back inside of the ship. You and the frog lady went down to greet him and he walked inside, sighing. “Alright. I’m gonna repair the cockpit enough for us to limp to Trask. There’s nothing I can do about the main hull’s integrity,” he said and you batted at the air above you to clear a web away from your face, “... so we’re going to have to get cozy in the cockpit. It’s the only thing I can pressurize,” he explained, “if you need to use the privy, do it now it’s gonna be a long ride,” he finished and then turned to you. He nodded toward the cockpit while the frog lady waited for some privacy and you slowly crawled up the ladder into the cockpit. He followed behind you and once you were both inside with the door shut, you heard him let out a loud snort and then his chest began to shake. He was fucking laughing at you. Your jaw dropped, “Din Djarin! Stop that!” You commanded but he didn’t stop. You crossed your arms indignantly and he grabbed your waist, pulling you against his chest, “We’re gonna die we’re gonna die!” He playfully mocked and laughed a bit more, silently. You slapped his chest and he pulled you into a tight hug, which you reluctantly returned. “You’re so mean,” you huffed and you could hear the smile in his voice. “And you’re so dramatic,” he countered and you raised your eyebrows, laying your head down on his chest plate. “‘The scariest thing down here is me,’” you mocked in return and he chucked, shaking his head. “Still is.” “Shut up, Mandalorian,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes, “you’re so lucky I love you,” you said dramatically as you sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” And for the record, he was never the scariest thing down there.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #baby yoda #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #mando imagine #mando x y/n #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian x you #fanfiction #star wars #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic

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freebooter4ever · 3 years

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The final part of this fic series which no one asked for but i finished anyway lol - third section deals with fighting in the rain on Okinawa, coming home, and settling down together in a house.

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In the beginning of the campaign, Okinawa is a respite from the heat. After the easy landing, and the easier invasion, many of the guys start dropping their guard. It's too tempting to revel in the cool air, and ignore the minor discomfort (compared to battle) of hauling heavy packs along muddy roads. But every night in their foxholes they remember they're at war.

One night, when Eugene wakes Snafu up for his watch, he also leans in for a quick peck on the lips. Snafu thinks Eugene's finally lost it. He keeps one careful eye on Eugene and refuses to sleep for an entire day and a half after that. Yet during every switch of their watch, Eugene continues to kiss him. Like it's normal, like it should be expected. Snafu gives in. If it's just the two of them in their hole, he lets Eugene snuggle in close. Snafu starts sleeping better, and when he wakes Eugene for his own watch, Snafu starts kissing him too. There's never any urge for anything more, with the long heavy marches and the constant state of slight hunger, having any feelings beyond numbness is hard. But the little kisses are a reminder of good things. Snafu indulges in the comfort of them so much that the one time they share a foxhole with Burgie, Snafu completely fucking forgets himself. Earlier in the day they'd found a source of fresh water and Eugene washed his whole head, scrubbing the grime from his neck. His lips are bright and pink again, and when Snafu catches sight of them in the dim light of a flare as he goes to wake Eugene up for his watch, Snafu doesn't stop to think. "Sledgehammer," Snafu whispers in Eugene's ear. He pulls back just enough to make eye contact and ensure Eugene's awake. And then Snafu dips in for a kiss. Their helmets make the familiar soft 'thud' when they collide, and for a minute Eugene melts into Snafu, and kisses back. Then Eugene suddenly shoves Snafu away and glances over at the third person sharing the foxhole with them. Snafu glances at Burgie too, wide eyed, and scared, and wondering how this is going to go. Burgie doesn't even look shocked. "You guys think you're quiet but I kept having to leave the tent on Pavuvu almost hourly just to escape the noise from you both." "Shit," Eugene swears. "Stop watching me, watch the line, get your head on straight Sledgehammer," Burgie orders, "I'm not going to say anything to anyone. And the only reason I'd tell you to quit it with the kissing is if you end up in a hole with someone else less understanding. Understand?" "Sure thing, Burgie," Snafu says with a wash of relief. Burgie becomes their automatic third whenever the company is divided into groups, and Snafu stops trying to hide his affection for Eugene during that time. Eugene is a little more reserved. Snafu is the one who needs constant physical contact whenever he can get it. Something as simple as gripping Eugene's hand while they are waiting behind a rock for their march to get moving again is a lifeline. But living on top of each other also means lashing out when the real battles get too much to handle. Once the rain starts, and almost washes them away alongside the mud, the lazy sunny days of marching seem like fond memories. Snafu is cold and wet and his body won't stop shivering with it. Long after Snafu gives up, Eugene continues to try and dig their private little foxhole like the stubborn asshole he is. "Don't even bother," Snafu trills at Gene from underneath the tarp where he's huddled with Burgin and Hamm, "Nobody wants to squat in a cold stinky bowl of muddy water tonight." "We need a foxhole," Eugene demands angirly. Snafu sighs. They're not at the very front line, there's no compelling reason for Gene to be this insistent. Snafu knows what Eugene really wants - without a foxhole, without somewhere to hide, the two of them won't be able to share each other's warmth. Plus out of all of them, Eugene is the least likely to ever break protocol. He goes by the book, he swears by it to stay alive, and his foxhole is always an exact depth and five feet from everybody else no matter what. Usually Snafu admires this about Gene. Tonight it's driving him nuts. "Sit down, Gene!" he orders. "Not until I can sit in a damn hole!" Eugene yells back. They shout at each other for longer than Snafu feels comfortable with. If Eugene were to decide that Snafu isn't worth putting up with anymore, Snafu isn't sure he would survive. "Fuck you Eugene," Snafu whines

halfheartedly as the yelling slowly peeters out. "Fuck you too, Shelton ," Eugene spits and throws down his entrenching tool. His anger is slower to fizzle out. But Snafu can see how hard he's trying by the set of his shoulders. He doesn't want to be mad at Snafu either. "Why don't you come over here and lend a hand? 'stead of sitting there like a bump on the log?" Eugene suggests, only a tad snippily. Snafu closes his eyes and grimaces. He shakes his head and raindrops fly off his helmet, "Gene...just…" he flops his arm out of the poncho and makes an awkward beckoning gesture. Eugene sighs and squelches over to sit beside Snafu. Snafu leans against him until their heads are touching. Eugene lets him do this. So Snafu takes it a step further and scoots his entire body over until they're flush against each other. When he gets away with that too, Snafu daringly presses his face into Eugene's neck. He's so close he could lick the rain and dirt off Gene's skin. "I can feel your stinking breath, Snafu," Eugene complains. Snafu just takes a deeper breath and exhales. It's a testament to how much Eugene loves him that he doesn't automatically shove Snafu away. Eugene pulls his helmet off, tilts his head up to look at the rain and feel it hit his face. Snafu leans back a little to watch him, enjoying the sight of the water running down his neck. Eugene always looks beautiful when wet, no matter how frustrated Snafu is at him. Unexpectedly Eugene's eyes dart to Snafu. "Snaf…!" He exclaims quietly, realization dawning in his eyes, "On Pavuvu...in the rain, you had that same dazed look. You were watching me, weren't you?" Snafu bites his lip and looks away. "Was that the reason for the…you know… after…" Eugene's brain is doing some quick thinking and Snafu can see it in his eyes. 'Yes Sledgehammer,' Snafu wants to say, 'I watched you scrub your supple body in the rain and got such a boner, it gave me anxiety.' Instead he shrugs. Eugene starts laughing. "I was all wet," Snafu says defensively, "Couldn't hide a thing." Eugene keeps laughing, almost going hysterical. "It shouldn't have happened. Don't know why it did," Snafu insists, "You dropped the fucking soap. You said 'whoopsie daisy'. Who the fuck even says that anymore except for old geezers?" Eugene just laughs. "What are you guys talking about?" Hamm asks "Nothing that concerns you, Hambone," Snafu says warning. "Snafu, leave him be," Eugene says with a vague annoyance in his voice, "And stop calling him that." Snafu smiles. And then cuts his eyes at Eugene, "Shit, you're jealous. You miss being the only one with a special nickname? That it?" "I said…" Eugene states calmly, "Leave it be." "Don't you worry, Sledgehammer," Snafu teases, "No nickname is as special as yours." "Mer…" Eugene warns, using his own personal nickname for Snafu as if it's a threat. Something he usually only whispers when no one else can hear. "Bon Bon," Snafu says gleefully. Eugene glares at Snafu. "Bon Bon?" Hamm questions. "Bondourant," Snafu explains, "Sledgehammer's middle name." "No one calls me that," Eugene grumbles and crams his helmet back on his head. He shifts further down into the mud and compacts himself into a pissy huddle under his poncho. "Even you don't call me that," he accuses Snafu. "Might be a missed opportunity there," Snafu says, "could'a caught on faster than 'Sledgehammer' if I'd thought of it first. Fits you better. Kinda like 'Hambone' makes more sense than two 'M's." "Shelton, just leave everybody alone," Eugene complains. Snafu can hear the real anger in his lover's voice now. The humor, and the teasing somehow soured the mood instead of lightening it. He doesn't understand how Eugene could possibly be jealous of something as silly as a nickname. Feeling bereft, Snafu wiggles his arm out of his own poncho and under Gene's, but secretly so no one catches on to what they are doing. Snafu persistently tugs on Eugene's sleeve until Gene relents and moves his hand closer so Snafu can grasp it tight. Snafu squeezes his hand and Eugene finally

turns to meet his eyes. Snafu's apology is wordless, but it works. Eugene scoots over to Snafu till they are huddled together once more. "You guys an old married couple or something?" Hamm jokes when he sees how they've 'made up' after their fight. "The equivalent of it," Burgie answers with some humor of his own. "Burgie's jealous," Snafu quips. "Don't start, Mer," Eugene tells him quietly. "He misses his Aussie girlfriend," Snafu continues, "Wishes he had what Gene and I've got right here…" Snafu grins, like it's all a joke. "What do Gene and you have?" Hamm asks. "Absolutely nothing," Eugene says coldly. It's entirely too believable for Snafu's comfort. Which shuts him up real quick. Snafu thinks maybe he went too far. Maybe he revealed too much in front of Hamm. Unfortunately what Hambone does or doesn't know quickly becomes a moot point. In a flash the green boot is gone, and Eugene and Snafu are alone in their foxhole once more. As the guilt sets in, Snafu distances himself. He stops giving Eugene little kisses, he stops touching him altogether. Eugene doesn't seem to notice. He certainly doesn't react. After peace is declared, the options for Snafu's life narrow considerably. Everyone else starts thinking about 'what next'. He can't relate. He should be on the first boat home, before anyone else in K Company. He's got extra points from his battle on Gloucester which technically puts him months before Eugene on the list. But when he thinks about heading home without his Sledgehammer, he feels physically sick. He starts avoiding Gene in order to avoid this illness… until Burgie catches on and finally confronts him. "Snafu, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Burgie demands. Snafu blanches at his tone and thinks about slinking away silently, but quickly realizes Burgie has him boxed in on all sides. They're in the mechanics shop and Snafu is tinkering with an unused boat, hoping to sneak it out for joyrides round the island. The shop is small and everywhere Snafu turns there's Marines and work being done. Burgie is blocking Snafu's only route for escape. "If Florence was here I would not be wasting so much time," Burgie glares at Snafu. "Except what you and Florence get up to is legal," Snafu says evasively. "Is that what's bothering you?" Burgie looks deeply flabbergasted, "You think Sledge will… rat you out? Or something?" Snafu glances around surreptitiously and juts into Burgie's personal space to whisper, "Nice Alabama boys don't break the law." "Snafu, you know Sledge cares more about you than dumb laws," Burgie hisses, "Stop hiding from him." "He always knows where to find me," Snafu turns back to his boat and pretends Burgie isn't there. "Chicken," Burgie says. "I'm not the one clucking like a mother hen," Snafu retorts. "Yeah but you're the one fucking your own life up," Burgie says. "Naw," Snafu argues, "I'm making sure not to fuck his." "Grow up, Snaf," Burgie mutters. Snafu makes a chicken clucking noise as Burgie walks away. But as soon as Burgie is gone, Snafu throws down his tools in frustration at his tinkering not fucking working, and then kicks the hull of the boat in anger. He breaks his big toe. And is officially ordered bed rest until further notice. Eugene is the one to bring him ice packs round the clock as Snafu is laid up in bed. Snafu can hobble to and from the head, but that's about it. The tent they're stationed in is huge and always full of people so Snafu can never respond properly to Eugene's unasked for kindness. The most he does is say grudging 'thank you's whenever Eugene drops off ice or food while on his way to work detail or to borrow a new book or whatever it is smart boys do in their free time. Snafu can never tell if the new distance between them is killing Eugene as much as it's killing him. The minute Snafu's foot heals, he gets assigned work duty, as if to make up for all the time he missed. He grudgingly accepts this, partially because fair's fair, but also partially because it keeps him out of Eugene's hair. He toils during the day, and

sleeps fitfully at night, and lounges on the beach every chance he can get. Every once in a while he'll look up and catch Eugene's eye on him. But the boy never says anything. The only time they work together is when the higher ups announce a big storm is predicted to hit in the coming days. "Big Storm" is putting it mildly. The locals whisper about typhoons and deadly winds, and entire ships stuck out on the ocean. And Snafu and Sledge are the only two guys determined to fasten down their company's tent. They don't talk as they prepare, simply exchange one loaded glance. Both of them grew up on the southern coast, both have seen angry storms, they know not to underestimate the power of mother nature - especially if the locals are afraid. They fall into a familiar pattern working together, kind of like digging their foxhole in tandem. Snafu has his own particular storm preparations, and Eugene's got his. They lend a hand to each other when needed and get out of each other's way when not. By the time they're done, K company's tent is the sturdiest on the island. Snafu doesn't know if Eugene suggested his improvements to the other guys. Snafu certainly didn't share any information. Either way, definitely nobody told the officers because during the height of the storm, when Snafu is huddled in his cot, covers wrapped around himself as tight as can be to ward off the chill, a bedraggled private drags open their tent flap to announce company K is called to duty. At first Snafu can't believe it. He stares in horror as this green replacement undoes all his and Eugene's hard work, opens the flap, and lets in a torrent of rain water. The K company men in the tent hastily jump to action, if only to be able to close off their safe and secure dry oasis once more. Unfortunately, it also means closing up the dry oasis while they are standing outside it getting drenched. The six of them make their way across the camp. Snafu's baggy ill-fitting shorts are already making it hard for him to walk. The wet fabric hangs heavy on him, only held up by the fraying rope he pulled through his belt loops. The officers keep saying any day now they'll receive a supply drop of new service uniforms for the enlisted men. But that was weeks ago. Snafu hits an uneven patch of mud and his foot goes out from underneath him. In an instant, Eugene stops him from falling on his ass by colliding with Snafu's back and propping him up. Snafu didn't even know Eugene was following him closely enough to be there so quick. "Are you okay?" Eugene whispers in Snafu's ear. Snafu nods. "I meant your foot," Eugene elaborates, "Is your toe okay?" "Yeah," Snafu croaks. Yeah, he's okay. He's in Eugene's arms again. He's got Eugene's breath on the back of his neck and Eugene's chest pressed up against his back. It'd take a typhoon the size of his great aunt Tilly to get Snafu to leave Gene's embrace. Or perhaps the barked orders of an angry, wet, tired NCO. "Hurry it up back there!" the NCO yells at them, barely able to make himself heard over the wind. Snafu reluctantly extricates himself from Eugene's arms and continues walking. Their company is tasked with restoring an officer's knocked down tent. Why they're being told to do this in the middle of the storm is anyone's guess. With grim faces and bitter determination, they follow orders and get to work. Snafu can barely see through the rain, but even with such poor visibility he can tell the tent is sloppily built. He exchanges a commiserate judgemental look with Eugene. Eugene recognizes poor construction too. "All right men, everybody take a corner," Burgie announces. "If they had us do this a few hours ago before the damn storm even started…" Eugene complains beneath his breath at Snafu. Snafu sympathizes but he does as he's told, because he's still a Marine. But then again, the war's over so he allows himself a few grumbles while he does it. And he circumvents orders to peek his head inside the tent and see exactly whose ass they're saving here. Lightning flashes and he gets a good glimpse. The

occupants don't surprise him. Snafu nudges Eugene in the ribs to make Eugene pause his work battening down the ropes. "What?" Eugene hisses. "It's a couple of replacements," Snafu informs him, "Fresh from home. Don't even got mud on their boots yet." "You're kidding me," Eugene says flatly, sounding as if he's at the end of his own rope. Snafu shakes his head. "Fuck," Eugene curses under his breath. Which is a big deal for Eugene. "We've only got one pair of pants each," Snafu mutters, "We're gonna go to bed with wet asses cause these guys couldn't bother to do their own tent properly." Eugene shakes his head angrily. He grips the rope tight, takes a deep breath, and his jaw juts out in that stubborn way of his that means trouble. Snafu loves that look. He knows that look intimately. "Burgie," Eugene whispers sharp. He leans away from Snafu and towards Burgin on the other side of him. Snafu can't hear what Eugene says, but he must have told Burgie about the owners of this tent they're saving, because the next thing Burgie does is issue a new string of nonverbal instructions. The men stare at him. They can see the gestures Burgie is doing, they know what he's telling them, they just can't believe it. Snafu doesn't question Burgie's orders - not that he ever would - but this time he follows them wholeheartedly. Snafu, Eugene, Jay, Stringbean, and Burgie let loose their ropes simultaneously. The tent collapses, the replacement officers get drenched, and Burgie fakes outrage over the 'accident'. And they all laugh about it afterwards in the privacy of their own tent. As soon as they duck under their tent flap, Snafu explodes in giggles. He leans against Eugene and cracks up, unable to stop himself and desperately hoping he hasn't gone crazy. Eugene joins him, indulging in a good satisfied chuckle over the officers getting their just desserts. Their slightly hysterical joy is catching. The men make jokes, give each other congratulatory slaps on the back. The mood in the tent goes from being miserable and self-pitying, to one of humor. The camaraderie warms Snafu. He feels within his place in the world in a way he never did back home. He knows this is partially why he's so reluctant to leave. The guys are triumphant, feeling they've bested their superiors and gotten away with it. No one but Snafu is thinking any sort of serious thoughts. "It'd be our ass if they knew we done that on purpose, " Snafu warns despite his grin. "Who's going to tell them?" Eugene challenges, "You?" Snafu laughs and his smile widens. He hasn't seen Eugene this happy in over a year. The moment would be absolutely perfect… if it weren't for the damp canvas currently sticking inside Snafu's butt crack. "I'm sick and tired of being wet!" Snafu cries as he kicks his sandal-boots off and strips down to the nude. He throws the offending wet shorts across the tent. They hit the wall and stick for a minute before plopping to the ground. The men around him laugh and agree. Snafu decides tonight is for sleeping bare assed as the day he was born, and crawls under his cot blanket without hesitation. "Snaf's got the right idea here, Burg," Eugene says and yanks his own pants off. A bunch of the other guys follow suit until there is a large pile of wet shorts in the corner of the tent. Burgie shakes his head and affects a stern look, but everyone knows he won't enforce the dress code tonight. And as people dry off and become more comfortable, slowly one by one they drift off to sleep. Except Snafu. Snafu tosses and turns under his blankets. He may be dry, but he's still freezing his ass off from the biting wind. "It's so fucking drafty," he complains loudly to the room at large. No one answers him. "I'm so damn cold," he whines. Again without answers. "First they stick us in a hundred degree heat, and then they make us sit through a typhoon with nothing but ratty blankets," Snafu complains. "Go the fuck to sleep, Snafu," Bill Leyden lovingly throws a shoe in Snafu's direction. He misses. "Maybe if you're quiet you'll warm up,"

Eugene suggests. "Pretty sure that's not how it works," Snafu retorts, "Shouldn't you know? Being so educated and all?" He refuses to stop complaining. The guys groan every time he opens his mouth. Until finally Eugene, sick to death of Snafu's whining, throws his own blanket on top of Snafu's for added warmth. Snafu is surprised that Eugene would sacrifice his own comfort to make Snafu feel better. "Real martyr that Eugene," Bill comments, "Taking one for the team to shut shit-n-ass up." Eugene doesn't say anything. He simply climbs out of his own cot, and scoots into Snafu's from behind, pulling the double blankets over them both. Which shocks Snafu even more. "Isn't it gonna be hot under there with the both of you?" Bill asks obnoxiously. "No worse than all that hot air filling your head," Eugene retorts. The guys laugh, and Eugene's change of sleeping arrangement becomes a joke rather than what it actually is. "I always sleep better if I'm sleeping on top of somebody," Snafu announces, feeling brash. Bill laughs and whistles provocatively. Burgie sighs "Prove it then, go the fuck to sleep, the both of you." Unbeknownst to everyone around them, under the cover of darkness, Eugene's arm snakes around Snafu's waist and pulls him flush against Eugene's body. Gene presses his face into the nape of Snafu's neck and whispers almost silently, "I still love you. I will wait for you." Snafu shivers and pushes himself closer into Eugene's embrace. He doesn't have to respond. He simply locks his hands around Eugene's to keep him in place, and closes his eyes. They both fall asleep within minutes. He really does sleep better in Eugene's arms. The tension between them breaks. Snafu gradually lets Eugene back into his life. When they're transferred to China, he follows Eugene on all Eugene's hair-brained educational schemes. They even get their own room in the British Ligation, just the two of them, with two cots though only one is ever used. Snafu becomes accustomed to sleeping beside someone. Months later, Snafu's precious bubble of happiness in China breaks - they're both sent home. And too soon the familiar words 'New Orleans' wakes Snafu with a start. The train underneath him is still rocking, but the movement is slowing. Soon they'll be stopped. Presumably at the station where he's supposed to be getting off. Still exhausted in a weary way that won't change for a long while, Snafu drops his head back against the soft pillow he's been sleeping on. And then remembers who it is. He cranes his neck around and sees Sledge still sleeping peacefully. Snafu is tucked up against Eugene's side, with his head against the fat of Eugene's arm and his hand near Eugene's stomach. Snafu props his chin on Eugene's shoulder and watches him sleep. Eugene's a funny sleeper. In all the years Snafu has known him, half the time it seems Gene sleeps so deep nothing could wake him. The other half he wakes at the slightest provocation, and Snafu can never predict which to expect. Snafu palms his hand over Eugene's stomach, just so he can feel Gene's body move one last time before he leaves. Eugene doesn't even notice, he continues dozing with a slight snore. Snafu remembers falling asleep on Gene's shoulder a year ago, and playing with Eugene's hands for ten minutes until he woke up. If the train car wasn't full of fellow returning servicemen, Snafu would lean over and kiss Gene goodbye. As it is, it's probably for the best that nothing happens except the train stops, Snafu stands to collect his bag, and Eugene sleeps on. Snafu departs, and he forces himself to not look back. He's in New Orleans again, and with it comes all the same old responsibilities, and a body is never supposed to look back. Common courtesy. (Had Snafu looked back he would have seen Eugene wake up and smack his hand against the train window at Snafu's retreating figure) The problem with coming home to nothing is a total lack of motivation. Snafu knows nowhere to go and doesn't care. He makes it halfway down the train platform before his knees start

shaking. He ducks into a narrow alleyway, leans against an empty trash bin, and lights a smoke. Above him he hears a crack of thunder. Rain's coming, and not the hot comfortable summer kind. He should take shelter, or worry about his bag getting wet, but he doesn't. After Gloucester a minor New Orleans squall is hardly a threat. Snafu tilts his head and looks to the sky as he smokes. The clouds break, the rain starts, and too soon his cigarette flickers out. "Fucking hell!" a very loud, very angry Sledge barrels into the alley and crosses Snafu's field of vision. Snafu is stunned silent as Eugene bears down on him. Gene wastes no time, he doesn't even slow his stride, just walks right up to Snafu, throws his own bag to the ground beside Snafu's, grabs Snafu by the wrists and slams him up against the brick wall. The cigarette falls out of Snafu's limp grasp. Eugene kisses him, completely unconcerned that the train platform is crowded and the alley can't possibly remain empty for long. The minute Eugene releases his grip on Snafu, Snafu grabs him back and continues the kiss. He gets his hands on Eugene's hips and starts fumbling to open his belt. It's pouring rain, and will continue raining for at least a half hour, the alley will remain deserted, they have time. Eugene, when he grows angry and goes from being soft to sharp angles and barbs, is hot as hell and makes Snafu want to jump his bones. Soft Eugene is complacent and too nice. Angry Eugene goes after what he wants, and Snafu desperately enjoys being exactly what Eugene wants underneath his pretty boy facade. Eugene breaks the kiss and refuses to let Snafu have his way. He grabs Snafu's wandering hands once more, but this time instead of shoving them against the wall, Eugene traps them tight between his and Snafu's chests. He glowers at Snafu, "You left me." "You were sleeping," Snafu points out, "Didn't wanna be rude." Eugene takes a deep breath and drops his forehead to their clasped hands. "You obstinate fool," he says bitterly and pins Snafu with his eyes again, looking frustrated and betrayed, "Did it occur to you that maybe I sleep better with you beside me just as much as it ever did for you?" "Sledgehammer," Snafu drawls, "You sleep better cause you're no longer in mud. Got nothing do with me." "Bullshit," Eugene accuses, "Both of those things are bullshit, Snaf...what do I do to get it in your head that I love you?" Snafu laughs and shakes his head, "Don't matter. It won't stick." Eugene shakes him, as if to unstick Snafu's stubbornness, "Then I'll keep saying it, over and over, as long as I need to. And as long as you say it to me back." "Say what?" Snafu smirks. "Say how you feel, dumbass," Eugene glares. "I feel awfully pinned to the wall like a bug right now," Snafu wiggles defiantly. He gives Gene a pointed look. Eugene immediately realizes he's taking his anger out on Snaf and drops his wrists. Eugene takes a step back, out from underneath the eaves of the building. The rain comes down so hard the boy is soaked to the bone in seconds. His bright pink lips slick and glistening and unchanged since the very first afternoon Snafu noticed him. "What do you want, Snafu?" Snafu leans languidly against the wall, his hips out and his head thrown back, his hands hanging relaxed below his shoulders. "I want you," he says and he closes his eyes because this admission will be painful, "I want to kiss you for so long the entire world sees. My own world narrows to you every damn time you're near. You scare me, Gene. I'm not supposed to want anything but I want so much from you...I can't take it. Go home, Eugene. Where you belong." "Too fucking bad," Eugene states. He steps forward again and slides an arm around Snafu's hips to pull him away from the wall. "I already am home," Eugene insists, "I'm with you. So stop making me chase you and let's decide where we're going together." "You're so fucking stubborn," Snafu complains with a dramatic sigh. "Takes one to know one," Eugene reminds him. Snafu laughs and slowly lets himself drift into

Eugene's space. They hold each other, almost as if they're in a dance. Eugene threads his fingers through Snafu's hair and looks at him intently, "Tell me what else you want. Everything." "I want us to live in a house," Snafu demands, defiant like he's daring Eugene to deny him any of it, "On the water - doesn't have to be much, just a little crick. With a birch tree in the backyard, and an attic to store your drawing shit. I want to wake up from the glare of the sun glinting off your stupid hair every morning, in a big bed, on clean white sheets. I want you to take my name." Sledge breaks into the biggest smile Snafu ever saw, "Eugene Shelton," he says, "Sheltonhammer?" Eugene laughs. "Okay," he nods enthusiastically, "Okay, I want all that." "Really?" Snafu laughs in disbelief. Rain gets in his mouth. He sputters and bites his lip. "Yeah," Eugene nods again. "Well, fuck," Snafu declares. "We'll do it," Eugene promises, "We'll do all of it. But before we figure out how, I need you to come home with me to Mobile." Snafu nods, and then adds, "Except tonight. We can afford one night in a hotel. Just the two of us." Eugene smiles, "Yeah. I can agree to that." "Good," Snafu agrees, satisfied. Eugene slings an arm over Snafu's shoulders and Snafu wraps his arm around Eugene's waist. They pick up their duffles and start ambling down the alley. "Sheltonhammer will never catch on," Snafu warns. "You're right," Eugene grins, "I better keep Sledgehammer too." "Eugene Bondurant Sledgehammer Shelton," Snafu says, "What a mouthful." "I like it," Eugene confirms and squeezes Snafu affectionately. "They'll never put that in a phonebook," "Guess we just won't have a phone, then," Eugene says. "I could live with that," Snafu agrees. They do end up with a phone because Eugene's mother will only accept her baby living two states away if she's able to call him whenever she wants. "It's like your mother's psychic," Snafu whines. Out in the hall, Eugene motions with his hands to try to get Snafu to shut up while balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder. Snafu rolls his eyes and refuses to be quiet. "She somehow divines every time you get frisky and suddenly she needs to talk your ear off for five hours," Snafu continues. "We're invited for Christmas," Eugene says after he finally hangs up, "She wants to know if you'll be bringing your homemade pie again. Also this theory of yours completely discounts the number of times we have sex uninterrupted." "Every time we have sex should be unintereupted. I'll bring the pie only if I can be allowed to help with the ham this year," Snafu barters, "Not having any of that dry overcooked shit anymore." "If we get there early enough I can sneak you into the kitchen," Eugene crawls back onto the bed and settles himself on top of Snafu, "She'll never notice any changes to the ham." "Deal," Snafu agrees and drags Eugene in for a kiss. "I love you, Mer," Eugene whispers. Snafu wins Eugene's family over with his uncanny cooking abilities. Snafu always puts it off till the last minute, and stresses Eugene out so much he blames Snafu for his hair loss, but somehow whatever Snafu makes turns out perfect. His specialty is pork chops. Meanwhile, Gene's not allowed to cook after the incident with the waffle maker. Snafu brings this rule up whenever Gene wants to try a new recipe in one of his Good Housekeeping magazines ("Nothing in that rag is true, Sledgehammer. Why d'you even bother?" Snafu pesters him) ("I received no education on this subject growing up, Snafu. I'm learning," Eugene refuses to budge and keeps his subscription). Luckily Snafu has a gift for making questionable recipes edible, and Eugene is good at following directions, both in and out of bed. This year at Christmas dinner, Eugene's mother imbibes a little too much eggnog spiked generously by Snafu. Halfway through the dessert course she leans in close to whisper secretly to her son, "Don't tell Edward but your Snafu can bake circles around Martha. Thank god one of you married well." And pats Eugene's

shoulder proudly. Eugene relays this compliment to Snafu late at night when they're snuggled together tight in Eugene's narrow childhood bed. "And yet nobody suspected about the ham," Eugene adds, "Though a few commented how much better it tasted this year." "What can I say, I'm a fan of big meat," Snafu declares as he sticks his hand down the front of Eugene's pants. "I don't think that actually works well as an innuendo," Eugene retorts. "Got you hard anyway," Snafu's eyes gleam with mischief. Eugene rolls him over and kisses him silent before someone hears them and suddenly turns their visit home awkward. Married life with Gene seems almost too good to be true. Snafu keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. And he really starts to worry when on a random day in spring, he sees Eugene standing stark naked in their backyard during a thunderstorm. "Good thing our phone isn't listed," Snafu calls to Eugene from the dry safety of the wrap-around porch. Eugene might be losing his marbles, but he sure looks good while doing it. Snafu admires his husband's bare ass in the sharp flashes of lightning and lit by the soft glow of their storm lantern. Eugene turns to face Snafu and lifts the lantern up, "What in tarnation are you talking about?" He asks, as if Snafu is the crazy one here. "If we were in the phonebook," Snafu says, "the neighbors would sure be calling by now." "No one can see me," Eugene scoffs, "We have a fence for a reason." "Why're you naked in a thunderstorm, Gene?" Snafu asks with concern, "If you get turned on, you might act like a lightning rod, and we've already got one of those on the roof - we don't need another, Boo." "It's tradition," Eugene explains. "Tradition?" "Our anniversary. It's been four years." "Anniversary?" Snafu grins wildly, expecting a joke, "What kind of shit anniversary have two people like us got?" Gene leaps onto the porch, sets the lantern down at Snafu's feet, and picks up his bible from a chair. His damp hands deftly flip it open to a weathered page and he reads off the date: "March 9th, 1944, Finally got Snafu to shower in the rain and wash his hair but only because I fucked him first." "What?! No way that you wrote that down!" Snafu grabs at the book in Eugene's hands. Eugene laughs and gives it up. And right there, in smudged ink, are the words Gene just read. Snafu runs his hand across them, and remembers how fucked up they both were four years ago. Desperate, and confused, and scared. "So, it's tradition," Eugene states with a know-it-all grin. He walks backward off the porch and back into the rain. His chin tilted up to feel the drops on his face and his hands raised high. Snafu watches in silence for a bit, remembering what it was like during his days of pining. When he didn't dare voice any of his opinions on Eugene's form, let alone reach out and touch. "Nice ass, Sledgehammer," Snafu calls. "You can't see my butt, I'm facing you," Eugene screws up his face in confusion. "Don't need to see it, I already know it's nice," Snafu leans against the porch and crosses his arms. Eugene rolls his eyes, but there's a smile on his face. That smile Snafu especially likes - bashful, embarrassed, and utterly in love. With dark eyes so warm it makes even cold-hearted Snafu feel cozy. "What about what you can see?" Gene asks, teasing. "Gorgeous," Snafu says, more quiet and solemn, "Like a Greek statue." "I'm flattered," Eugene states. He doesn't sound flattered, he sounds sarcastic. "No, I'm serious," Snafu insists, "Exactly like a statue. Except for one… much bigger detail…" "Snaf…" Eugene huffs a laugh. "Ah!" Snafu enthusiastically points at Eugene's crotch and steps off the porch into the rain, "What'd I tell you! You got that lightning rod problem going on there. We better get you inside…" Eugene says nothing, he just sloshes through the puddle that is their garden path and slams into Snafu. His hands slip under Snafu's jaw and tilt his face for an intense kiss. Eugene's hard dick slides into the crevice of Snafu's hips and Snafu drags Eugene tighter

against his body by his waist to trap him there. Now they're both wet and naked making out in their own backyard. Unfortunately just as things start getting interesting lightning strikes the tree beside their heads. It happens in an instant - the entire sky lights up, the lightning jumps from the fried tree to the rod on their house's roof, and fizzles. "Oh fuck!" Snafu hits the deck and takes Eugene with him. Eugene is pressed face first into their muddy grass, with Snafu's broad hand firm on his back, and half of Snafu's body shielding him from harm. And Eugene just laughs. Snafu gradually realizes the danger is gone, and loosens his hold on Gene. Eugene rolls onto his back and looks up at Snafu with a broad grin. "Why are we always interrupted during sex?" Snafu grumbles. "We're not even having sex," Eugene chuckles. He takes Snafu's arm for support and together they pull themselves out of the mud. "Not yet," Snafu argues. "Not here," Eugene retorts, "Let's get back inside. We don't need to tempt fate." "Lighting doesn't strike twice, Gene, you know that," Snafu points out when they're back under the porch. He gives Eugene a once over. "You're gonna need a shower. Maybe with the hose first," he adds after eyeing the grass and dirt clumps stuck to Eugene's front. Snafu leans over the porch rail to unwind the hose and then turns the nozzle on Gene. Eugene cringes and shies away from the water stream, "That's colder than the damn rain, Snaf!" "Turn around, I need to get your ass," Snafu replies. Which is when Eugene decides he's had enough hosing and instead tries to finagle the nozzle out of Snafu's hands. He doesn't succeed. Snafu is a slippery little shit in the best of times, and when wet he's positively lethal. Eugene does get hosed in the ass, and Snafu does lose control of the hose when Eugene goes for the distraction method and kisses Snafu into submission. Snafu can never resist a good smooch. Eugene grins against Snafu's lips, knowing he's won and hefts Snafu up into his arms. He carries Snafu into their house and into the shower to celebrate their 'anniversary' properly.

#Sledgefu #Bad germs

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thinkingisadangerouspastime · 4 years

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what do you think about the aang is possessive comment? about EIP ruining kataang? also about there being an implied (and nonexistent) love triangle thrown in nearing the end of the series as a tease?

I think fandom just likes to complain, lmao, but I’ll address each of these one at a time!

1) “aang is possessive”

This argument is honestly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard because it’s just so obviously false?? Possessive is literally defined as “demanding someone’s total attention and love,” which Aang never does? Aang always respects Katara’s position in their relationship, especially after the EIP kiss, which everyone knows was entirely inappropriate and wrong of him. Aang recognizes her hesitation and makes no more romantic attempts towards her after that moment. Not one! Katara is the one who initiates them getting together in the finale because the war is finally over and she is no longer afraid of losing him. I beg people, do point to the “possessiveness” you’re referring to, because the closest we get to any character being possessive is Zuko in “The Beach”:

Zuko: [Side-view of Zuko and Mai walking.] He thinks he’s so great. [To Mai.] Well, what do you think of him?

Mai: I don’t have any opinion about him. I hardly know him.

Zuko: You like him, don’t you? [Mai sighs and walks away.]

Ruon-Jian: What are you doing?

Zuko: [Close-up. Angrily.] Stop talking to my girlfriend!

Ruon-Jian: [Side-view. Walks up to Zuko.] Relax. It’s just a party.

Frontal view of Ruon-Jian. Zuko knocks him across the room into a vase, which breaks from the force.

Yeah, Aang never acts like that. 🤷

Now, this isn’t to say Aang doesn’t get jealous. Jealousy is a perfectly normal and natural emotion, and honestly I’d go so far as to say that everyone has been jealous at least once in their life. What’s key about Aang is he doesn’t act on his jealousy. He doesn’t throw anybody across a room, for one. Sure, he doesn’t want Katara to kiss Jet, so he makes a little quiet comment about it. Pretty normal, and it ends there. Not dissimilar to Katara’s bit of snark about On Ji! Even the EIP comment, which everyone uses to argue that Aang is “possessive” (which again, blatantly untrue, because he does not demand or expect a relationship with Katara as a result of that scene; also all he does is nod lmao and tbh that’s such a healthy reaction to jealousy I mean he doesn’t grab Zuko and chuck him onto the stage like his name is Ruon-Jian, does he?) - Aang literally just gets upset about the implication from an imperialist play that Katara doesn’t reciprocate his feelings. Why?

Let’s be frank: Aang knows, or is fairly certain, that Katara does like him by this point in the series. That’s why he doesn’t ask her “do you like me”. Instead, he asks:

Aang: But it’s true, isn’t it? We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.

By this point the show, the viewers know their feelings are mutual. Katara knows how Aang feels about her, and Aang knows Katara likes him, too - he just isn’t sure about how ready she is for a relationship. So him getting upset about the propagandist, pro-imperialism play implying Katara isn’t interested in him, when he essentially knows she does like him, is honestly kind of understandable? Imagine if you were watching a really rude movie about your life and it included a scene of your best friend who you’re already kind of in a relationship with saying that they’re in love with the dude who used to bully you and only think of you as their sibling. Like, that’s kinda wack? I’d be a little upset - and definitely weirded out - too.

(I’ve also seen people argue Aang leaving Guru Pathik to save Katara also somehow demonstrates his so-called possessiveness, as if his love for her and her love for him wasn’t established mere minutes earlier to be the love of the Air Nomads reborn. I don’t think the show could have been any clearer about how mutual, powerful, and honest their love is through that scene. Also, he proceeds to let her go to enter the Avatar state at the end of what? The next episode? So again, any arguments that he was “possessive” and “didn’t let her go” are thus moot and entirely inapplicable points.)

Basically, Aang isn’t “possessive” and people who think he is are just looking for an excuse to hate on him, lmao.

2) “eip ruined kataang”

The only way EIP could have ruined Kataang would be if all the previous Kataang buildup was either terrible or near-nonexistent. And great news! Kataang was built up very well throughout the series, growing from a close, deep friendship to cute, blushy crushes to a true, lasting romance (pretty iconic of them). Even if someone doesn’t ship them, they can acknowledge that within canon, Kataang had a very strong foundation (it’s one of the core relationships of the show, the other being Zuko and Aang as narrative foils). The implication that one poorly written episode somehow cancels out the previous 56 episodes and the following four is embarrassing.

Now, I certainly wouldn’t have minded if there had been a scene dedicated to Aang and Katara discussing his poorly-timed kiss. I ship Kataang, so there is absolutely no reason for me to be opposed to more Kataang content! But A:TLA has a very clear trend of not showing such discussions on screen - example: Zuko never sits down with Katara and apologizes for using her mother’s necklace to manipulate her; Katara never apologizes to Sokka for her callous comment about their mother - so the fact that Katara is the one to initiate their relationship at the end of the serious clearly demonstrates that she has forgiven Aang for his inappropriate kiss and is ready to be with him. (And I’ve said it before - if she can forgive Zuko for all the shit he put them through, she can forgive Aang, her best friend and the guy she loves, for one poorly-timed kiss.) Narratively speaking, ’twas resolved.

Also, it’s incredibly important to consider EIP within the context of the series as a whole. If someone really feels entirely devastated by that one episode, then… their loss? I’m sorry to hear it? 56 episodes of near-flawless buildup - a slight dip + a healthy, logical finale where Katara chooses to be with Aang because she is at last no longer afraid of losing him = more than good enough for me. People can argue her decision doesn’t make sense all they want, but it actually makes perfect sense when you consider what has been built through every previous episode: she was in love with him! You can’t isolate a single episode and expect it to speak for the series as a whole, after all.

Basically, EIP gets blown out of proportion because some people like to pretend it was the only Kataang episode ever written, lmao.

3) love triangle

I always laugh when I see this because where?? The only love triangle in A:TLA was the one fandom invented. Within the canon narrative, Katara and Zuko were never romantically interested in each other. I don’t care about “shipping-goggle interpretations” or AUs or post-canon or early planning that didn’t make it into the final drafts. If you look at A:TLA, if you look at the creators’ intentions, it’s plain as day that Kataang and Maiko were the only romantic pairings planned for Katara and Zuko. And that’s okay! That’s why fanon exists. But people have got to stop whining about a love triangle and ship teases that just… didn’t occur. If they read Zuko and Katara’s interactions as romantic, well, that’s great and all, but it’s also on them, lol. That sounds so mean oml I’m sorry y’all 💀. I just mean that Kataang was very clearly written into the show from episode 1 and Maiko from Book 2 (or Book 3 if you really, really don’t like the flashback), so expecting Zuko and Katara to get together doesn’t make any sense (to me) when they never had any romantically-coded interactions.

Yes, of course I’ll admit there were a few Zvtara gags, but that’s exactly what they were - gags. There’s three primary instances:

- June calling the owner of the Water Tribe necklace (whom we know is Katara) Zuko’s girlfriend in Book 1. This moment is mainly hilarious because Zuko promptly redirects the conversation to Aang, lmao, but thinking about the context of A:TLA itself? The assumption of the Fire Nation crown prince being in a relationship with someone from the Water Tribe is honestly pretty concerning given how the Fire Nation is an imperialist conqueror and has all but destroyed the Water Tribes (and has certainly worked to sever the connection between the North and South). So, not exactly a great conclusion on June’s part.

- The EIP gag. I ALWAYS laugh at this one because their reactions are so funny? I love the little disgusted nose wrinkles and scooting away. That’s hysterical to me. But again, thinking about the show itself, EIP is an imperialist play full of Fire Nation propaganda. With that in mind, again, the implication that their crown prince was with someone from the SWT, a nation they brought to its knees by killing all of the waterbenders (but one) and thus eradicating so much of the SWT’s culture? Major red flags! People need to consider the implications of EIP as imperialist propaganda, basically, because that’s what it is. Ignoring that aspect means missing the entire point of the play.

- June part 2. What I said above still applies. Also, they both get embarrassed and hotly deny it, which is kind of the opposite of a ship tease to me? They don’t exchange like an “oh, but what if” glance or anything, lol. And June backs off immediately, so... 🤷

People who interpret that as serious ship teases are, bless their hearts, a little misguided. Those are just funny moments! It’s like Katara and Sokka dressing up as Aang’s parents in “The Headband”. It’s funny! It’s contextual! Sokka and Katara are not romantically interested in each other just because they dressed up as husband and wife (ew), just as Katara and Zuko aren’t romantically interested in each other because there were three jokes about it. I really don’t know what else to say lmao.

Now, I don’t know all about what Bryke did outside of A:TLA in regards to Zuko and Katara’s relationship and fans of it. I wasn’t here for that lol. But I do know that A:TLA built a beautiful, platonic bond akin to surrogate siblings between Zuko and Katara (highlighted by the final Agni Kai with Katara and Azula as foils). Not a love triangle. “The Southern Raiders” was an episode about Katara and Kya, not Zuko and Katara. “The Crossroads of Destiny” paints an aching, gorgeous parallel between Oma and Shu and Katara and Aang, not Katara and Zuko. “The Boiling Rock: Part 2” was an episode involving the loyalty and love of Mai and Zuko, not Katara and Zuko. Katara and Aang had romantic parallels, Mai and Zuko had romantic parallels, while Katara and Zuko - within canon - had strictly platonic development. And honestly, fandom should appreciate that more! How often do we get such an iconic relationship between a guy and a gal that isn’t shadowed by romance? (The answer: not often enough.)

Now, this doesn’t mean don’t ship Katara and Zuko. I don’t care what people ship lmao, and there are some interpretations of Zvtara that I really enjoy (post-canon Zvtara has so much potential,, I die a thousand deaths oml)! But insisting there was some love triangle thrown at the end of the series is a discredit to how well Aang and Katara’s and Zuko and Katara’s relationships were written in A:TLA, and I’m honestly tired of hearing such tomfoolery. A romantic relationship between Zuko and Katara within canon would have completely undermined his entire redemption arc, which further emphasizes that their canon bond was meant to be solely platonic, because why would the writers want to undo what most consider the best redemption arc in animated history? (Simply put, I don’t think they would.)

Also, A:TLA had a very clear history of staying away from love triangles. There’s no Aang x Katara x Jet love triangle. No Yue x Sokka x Suki love triangle. So why would there be an Aang x Katara x Zuko love triangle?

Case in point: there isn’t. Fandom invented it.

So that’s my thoughts, anon! It can be summarized as this: fandom makes up a lot of nonsense that simply rewatching the show can dispute, so maybe we should just start providing episode timestamps to people, lol.

A general note - people are free to disagree with this post, but I ain’t looking to argue, so… make your own post if you want to develop a “counterargument”, I guess? I’m just chillin™ lol I don’t want to fight with people. I can give you my PayPal if you’d really like to engage in a proper academic debate? Anyways. Much love! 💕

#adding the line break after i post!!#katara #aang #zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #kataang #atla meta #the ember island players #amy answers #anon #amy analyzes

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kessielrg · 3 years

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[Kingdom Hearts] Occupational Hazard

Summary: By far, Ven’s got the most boring job at the flower shop; the cashier. Sitting day in and day out for someone to browse along the rows of flowers and gardening tools, then probably walk right out again. Sometimes an interesting thing would happen- but they were few and far between. [flower shop AU focused on UX kids][Part 6 in a series of oneshots][VenxOC][EphemerxOC/F!Player]

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,541

If you liked this story, please reblog!

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Ven thought about having children exactly once before. It had been a really random thought too. What made him space out that day? Had he been preparing for a test, or was it just another slow day at the flower shop? He hated that he had daydreamed about it enough that he knew exactly what kind of kid he wanted. (A girl, by the way- with the rest depending on if he could convince his ideal lady of being with him.) Either way, seeing Ephemer’s 19 month old son brought about feelings of wanting to be a father one day, while also making him glad that he wasn’t.

Furthermore, he wasn’t used to Ephemer being dressed to the nines either. The teen couldn’t help but stare at his coworker as Ephemer handed off various baby supplies to Skuld. It was a weird juxtaposition seeing Ephemer in a well pressed suit, and passing a wrinkled and well worn duffle bag to Skuld.

“There should be more than enough diapers to cover any accidents he’ll have in the next few hours.” Ephemer told Skuld. “Anora insisted we keep him from eating the foods that make him super gassy, just in case. She’s a smart one, that Anora. There’s a reason why she’s my wife.”

“Don’t have to convince me.” Skuld snorted. “Don’t know why you’re so dressed up for a night to the movies. We all know you two are going to be making out in the back of the car by the end of the night.”

Ephemer’s face immediately went up in a deep scarlet. He let out a sheepish laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. Skuld just laughed at him.

“Luca will be safe with me,” she then told him. “We’ve got a supply truck coming around in another hour or so, Thursdays are usually kinda dead anyway, and Ven’ll be here manning the main front. The next four hours will go by quickly.”

“I knew he’d be safe.” Ephemer laughed, albeit somewhat forced. “It’s how often you’ll be actually looking after him. You’re the one babysitting, and you’re still at work.”

Skuld gave Ephemer a rather dry laugh of her own before telling him, “I can do both.”

At Ephemer’s skeptic raise of his eyebrow, Skuld went on to say, “I will. After the truck gets here, my attention will be on nothing else.”

“Right…” Ephemer mused. He gave a shake of his head before getting down to Luca’s height. His son had been politely standing next to him while the old friends talked. Luca seemed to have understanding of what was going on- Ven just couldn’t get over those large blue-grey eyes. They just… stared between Ephemer and Skuld with severe inquisition. It almost made Luca look a good three or so years older. So young and yet so serious looking…

(Oh no, now Ven wanted to ask Brain if there were any surviving photos of Sabrina as a baby. She would hate knowing that he saw them, but he had to know. Did she always look that serious at a young age too?)

Ephemer gave his son a bright smile- one that was almost returned.

“You be good for Auntie Skuld and Venny, alright Luca?”

The toddler looked at his father for a long time, the wheels turning in his younger mind to register what was said, before giving a little nod. Ephemer grinned as he ruffled his son’s hair. He grunted slightly as he got back up (which Skuld was quick to snicker at) before starting his way out the door.

“See you two in five hours.” Ephemer waved at them.

“You told me earlier it was going to be four.” Skuld refuted, putting a hand on her hip. Ephemer just shrugged.

“You know I have a hard time keeping my hands off my wife, Skuld. And without a kid around? We’re practically kids again ourselves.”

Skuld let out a small ‘tsk’ sound and smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Get outta here. Go conceive your next child away from the flower shop for once.”

Even with his face flushing again, Ephemer gave her a playful salute before closing the door behind him. Skuld just looked at the door for a moment or so just to shake her head at him.

“Come up, Luca.” she then told the toddler, bending down a bit and extending her arms to him. “We gotta look out for the delivery guy.”

Luca gave her a glare so mean, Ven had to cough to cover up his laugh. The toddler even went into a string of sounds that could have been interpreted as sass. But he went over to Skuld, regardless. He allowed himself to be picked up by the woman, and together they disappeared into the back room. With the boss out of earshot, Ven felt free to let out the snicker he had been holding in for the past three minutes. The last thing on his mind was how Skuld would inevitably take her work at the flower shop over watching Luca. He’d figure it out soon- he just wished that peace had lasted a bit longer.

. . .

A good hour or so later, and Ven decided to make himself useful by making sure everything had a price sticker on it. No ceramic pot could go unturned without a sticker declaring its probably high ball price. Better than just sitting at the register and drifting off into who knows where until Skuld caught him.

Ven happened to notice Luca out of the corner of his eye. The toddler casually walked (or as casually as you could at 19 months, since you didn’t quite have the best balance still) out of the backroom and into the main store front. Ven slowed his movements a bit to watch Luca look over the area, then go over to a certain large vase with some faux reeds in it. It was rather amusing watching Luca plonk his little bottom down in front of it. Ven gave a quiet snort before properly returning to his work. He almost had to stop because something new happened.

Luca started babbling at the flowers.

At least, Ven thought it still counted as babbling. Every now and again he could pick out sounds that certainly sounded like real words; like ‘same’, and ‘daddy’, and ‘kiss-shun’, and ‘mommy.’ Or maybe Ven was imagining it. Putting price tags on everything was ridiculously boring.

“Ven!” Skuld suddenly shouted from the backroom, scaring both Ven and Luca alike. “Do you see Luca?”

“Yeah.” he lazily replied. “He’s out here talking to some reeds.”

Skuld immediately left the backroom just to glare at Ven. He flinched a little at her gaze.

“Get him away from those!” she demanded. “I’m still going over what’s come in.”

Ven blinked at her, then looked over at Luca. The kid was literally doing nothing but staring at the other flowers now. He probably even had an acute awareness he was being talked about, but not being talked to. Ven turned his attention back to Skuld with a face that was trying to feign innocence.

“Why? They're edible.”

“Not when you're still able to choke on fine cut food!” his boss immediately retorted. All it did was spark a moment of defiance.

“Skuld, there are full grown adults that still choke on normal cut food. Your point is getting more moot by the moment.”

“I can't believe you and Sabrina aren't dating yet.” Skuld mumbled under her breath. “You share the same amount of… Urg. Just get Luca away from those flowers!”

Perhaps a bit too amused at his superior's frustration, Ven let out a short chortle before setting the price stickers down. Skuld only grimaced as she went to the backroom again. Still grinning, Ven walked over to Luca, finding himself bemused by the kid still, and asked without meaning any harm; “Whatcha doing there, Luca?”

The toddler immediately jumped, then looked up at Ven with wide, curious eyes. Slowly, as if he were aware he could be in trouble, Luca's little face started to break. Poor Ven was in no way prepared for the kid's wailing. He immediately flinched and covered his ears at the sound.

“You're not in trouble! You're not in trouble!” Ven quickly said, awkwardly making his way down to the floor to be at Luca's eye level. “Just gotta be careful, alright?”

But this didn't stop Luca from crying. If it was any consideration, Ven was sure the toddler didn't even hear him. Cursing under his breath, Ven looked around the flower shop for anything that could distract Luca. There were some plush toys in a display close by. Maybe one of those would work? Ven wasn’t going to leave it up to guessing. He quickly went to the display, quickly located and snatched a dolphin plush, then went back over to Luca.

“Here there buddy,” he said, bringing the plush close to Luca’s eye range. “Do you wanna cuddle buddy?”

Luca stopped crying just long enough to give the plush a glance, shove it of his eyesight, and let out a rather clear, very angry, “No!”

Ven let out a long (and very tired) sigh of defeat. Wasn't Skuld the one that was supposed to be babysitting this tiny person? Why did it feel like he was doing all the work?

But first, he had to shut Luca up.

What else could Ven distract Luca with? Better question- what did Luca even like? Was there anything in this store that could calm this kid long enough so he wasn’t the loudest sound on the block? All this crying had to be stressful for him. Heck, it was stressful for Ven! An even better question right about now was ‘where on earth is Skuld?!’ because that was rather important too. Could she really not hear Luca wailing from the backroom? Maybe he should check on her…

Luca’s crying hit a note so high pitched the Ven flinched. He turned his attention back to the kid in defeat. Unsure of what else to do, he tried to rack his brain on what Ephemer and Anora did to calm Luca down. But that was just the thing, wasn’t it? Usually Luca wasn’t whining. Ven did get an idea though. Carefully, Ven put his hand on Luca’s head, trying to mimic the way Ephemer ruffled his son’s hair. To his surprise, it actually seemed to work. Luca started to settle down little by little until he gave nothing more than a few sniffles.

“There you go, buddy.” Ven cooed, sounding like he was more addressing an angry bear than a child. “Feel better now?”

Luca rubbed his eyes before turning to Ven. It was slow to make sure Ven didn’t stop gently kneading his fingers into Luca’s hair. The toddler gave Ven a few tired blinks. Apparently crying for five minutes straight was particularly draining.

“Tell me.” Luca said to Ven, pointing to an arrangement to his left. Ven blinked. He didn’t hallucinate that sentence, right?

“Tell you what? About the flowers?”

Luca gave him a determined nod.

“But I don’t know-” Ven tried to tell him, but Luca was a smart kid. He purposely started to make his face break again, and even started a little whimper before Ven caught on. “Wait, wait, wait!” Ven quickly stammered, removing his hand from Luca’s head to throw them up in defense. “I might know some stuff. And look, I could probably look some things up on my phone too. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Still milking his leverage over Ven , Luca wiped his eyes as he gave another nod. Ven let out a relieved sigh. It should be that hard to fake what he knew about plants, right? As Luca gave a long yawn, Ven hoped that he could probably even be able to lull the kid into sleep. Honestly, he was practically doing Skuld’s job for her.

. . .

Ephemer and Anora returned to the flower shop thirty minutes earlier than expected. They seemed to be in good spirits, so the date must have gone on well enough. Skuld was quick to hand Luca and his baby paraphernalia back to his parents.

“He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?” Ephemer asked, taking the duffle bag as Anora got their son.

“Not at all.” Skuld affirmed. “I was a bit preoccupied with the shipment that came in, so Ven helped out a bit.”

Hearing this, Ephemer and Anora looked at Skuld like she had proposed murder. Ephemer was the one who let out a forced laugh before saying, “Skuld…? Your shift ended before I dropped Luca off, that’s why we left him with you.”

“Knew it.” Ven mumbled under his breath. The parents looked at him before returning their attention to the rather unapologetic Skuld.

“I still watched him.” she insisted. “And now I still have some work to do before heading home for the night. Ven’s shift is ending for the night, and we all know he won’t do the inventory count tonight.”

“Because at this time of night, we do it in the morning.” Ephemer told her. Skuld didn’t seem to pick up on his annoyance. Instead, she went to the backroom before anyone could stop her.

Ephemer let out a long sigh of exhaustion. He should have known better, honestly. He looked at Anora and grinned. It was meant as a signal for them to head out, but Anora had other plans. She carefully nudged Ephemer, giving him a small look that he could read well. Ephemer nodded before digging into his wallet to find a twenty dollar bill.

“Here Ven, take this,” he offered. Ven just looked back at him with the most bewildered look. Ephemer saw it and just laughed. “We all know how Skuld gets when she doesn’t leave work. I’ll come in on my next shift with another twenty for you.”

“But I don’t-” Ven tried to argue, but it was Anora who stepped up to place a gentle hand on Ventus’s elbow. The teen froze right then and there. It was honestly the more polite thing to do- Anora didn’t really have much of a grip on him.

“Thank you for watching Luca tonight.” she carefully told him- for a moment it made him wonder if she thought she was to blame for some reason. “If Ephemer doesn’t pay you back, I will. And that’s a promise.”

“O-oh no, ma’am.” Ven quickly stuttered out. “It’s fine! Honest! It wasn’t even a big deal. Nah. Not really. Luca’s a pretty cool kid when you sit down and play with him. Pretty smart too. Nothing to sweat about. Hardly interrupted anything. Really.”

Anora offered a polite smile, although Ven felt guilty under it all the same.

“See you later, Ven!” Ephemer waved as the family left the shop. Ven waved back, still feeling guilty from Anora’s generosity. Luca watched Ven from other his mother’s shoulder- the expression was particularly hard to decipher. Ven just hoped it was one of respect. That little brat better not forget what Ven did for him today.

“Definitely having a girl.” Ven mumbled under his breath before clocking out for the day.

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

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Crime and punishment (MHA)

Crime and Punishment

Out of all the duties that Katsuki thought was a waste of time for hero's in training and legends of awesomeness like himself, Touring experimental new prisons had to be up there near the top. Normally he'd be able to bully someone else in the class into taking the job off his hands but today no such luck as the teachers had taken notice and were watching him like a god damn hawk. Adding to his bucket of annoyance was who he was partnered up with for this little tour, Izuku Midoriya himself..or as Katsuki preferred to call the green haired cry baby: Deku. (though it did spoil some of his fun his cruel nickname for the weakling had been taken by the crybaby as his hero name. still...) Adding to the total bullshit that this assignment was, not only were they suppose to take notes and report back with their suggestions so the full trained heroes could make a judgment call (which rendered the whole fucking thing moot if you asked Katsuki his humble opinion) But they had to do it in costume. Being of the mindset he put on his uniform to fight and blow things up, not do paperwork, this just served to piss the already poorly tempered hero in training off even more. they were currently in the office of the warden for this new experiential jail and he'd gone off into his own little world while the balding man with the big nose rambled on and on. He knew Deku would be a good little suck up and soak in every word and he'd just copy the nerd's report when this was all done anyways. He only tuned back in when Deku nudged him with his elbow and Katsuki realized they had been talking to him and he'd just been staring off into space. "what?" He asked. "..As I was telling your collage here, we need you to both sign some waivers given the technology that will be on display here, as well as a wavier not to tell anyone other then the hero's your reporting too about what you saw here today." the warden said, frowning. "Yeah yeah, whatever. just give me the stupid paper work and lets get this over with." Katsuki said. "Ah, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite...I think you should read the paper work and make sure you know what your signing first. Since you kinda..zoned out there." Deku said. "whatever nerd." Katsuki said, though GOD he loved his hero name and leaned in as if he was going to humor the nerd..then just signed the paper work. The warden rolled his eyes but took out two badges that the heroes could wear around their necks and handed them over. "..what, you think SOMEHOW your guards are gonna mistake us for some of your inmates?" Katsuki asked and Deku face palmed. "I really wish you'd just pay attention.." the crybaby whined softly. "what?!" Katsuki huffed. "Maybe if you didn't have the attention span of a toddler Mr..and I can't believe I'm even going to say this.. 'Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite', You'd of heard how much of our system is automated and that badge will keep you from being seen as a prisoner by the computers." the Warden said dryly. "..Who you calling a tod-" Katsuki started, but Deku stepped in and broke it up.

Huffing and pouty, Katsuki trailed behind the warden and Deku as they talked on and on and pictured how easy it would be to just toss a little blast at their feet, for a jump scare. 'heh, better now. Deku will just wet himself and bawl like a baby, again. They should just get a pacifier for him to suck on like the big baby he is.' Katsuki mused, mentally picturing Deku in just a oversized diaper and in a playpen, oversized paci in his mouth and bawling. So vivid was the mental image for a second Katsuki thought he must of been imposing it as he looked into one of the cells. Because there on the floor, hugging a teddy bear was a bald tanned skinned man, maybe in his 30, and he was dressed like a fucking toddler. like, as in paw patrol socks on, and he was wearing a freaking diaper shirt with a dino print on it and uh, yeah.. Mother fucking diapers that showed due to their thickness! the guy didn't even seem to notice him, he was busy sucking on a paci and watching a tv in the room. "what the fuckkkkk?" Katsuki laughed out loud. "..and I see the toddler is back with us." the warden said. "I'ma let that slide because what the fuck? why's that guy in huggies?" Katsuki asked, jerks a thumb at the window and snickering. "We uh..we went over this in the office Great Explosion Murder Death God..This prison is utilizing a new form of regressive therapy.." Deku said, rubbing the back of his head. "Man, the fuck did this guy do to end up being put back in pampers?" Katsuki asked. "must of been a real terror in actual prison for them to make him partake in this!" "-sigh- for the benefit of toddlers who don't listen.." The warden said, coming over and taping a few button on the control panel by the prisoners door, and the wall became transparent for them to get a better view. "Call me a toddler one more time, I fucking dare you." Katsuki grumbled. "ANYWAYS! Every one of the inmates in this prison is a volunteer who is getting 10 years shaved off of their sentences to try this. If the program is approved and if they wish to keep being part of it, further time will be shaved off." The warden said. "Each cell is equipped to look after and care for the inmates as if they were little boys or girls since it's a unisex prison, or if they just happen to be transgender. it's not OUR place to judge them." As the warden spoke, the prisoner who apparently didn't know he was being watched, suddenly got up on his knees and hugged a stuffie close to his chest as he started to make scrunchie faces. "..Is he.." Deku asked, turning and looking away to give the guy privacy. "Oh yeah, he's totally baking brownies." Katsuki snorted. As Katsuki and the warden watched, the back of the inmates diaper shirt and well, of course, diapers puffed out and expanded, to the point the crotch snaps burst open. "Sheesh, fucker must of been holding it in for ages." Katsuki observed. "actually it's part of the diet their on, we feel frequent and massive movements help with breaking down their ego's and let's them accelerate the reforming processes." The warden said proudly. "Righttt..ok fess up. you just like making tough guys shit they're brains out right?" Katsuki asked and chuckled. "..Your a very unpleasant person. I'm going to make a request you NOT be sent for the follow up review." "Oh nooo, I don't have to come here and listen to you drone on and on and watch adults crap themselves. I'm soooo heart broken about that." Katsuki said and rolled his eyes. walking away from the scene and leaving Deku trying to look over and make sure it was ok, Katsuki fiddled with his badge as he walked away from them and missed the sight of the metal arms coming out of the walls and attending to the stinky inmate, though Deku did take a interest in this part can came over to watch. "He doesn't um..seem that upset." Deku said. "oh this isn't his first dirty diaper, and there are speakers in there with a calming female voice praising him for making such a big present and telling him what a good boy he is. again, it could of been a male or female voice, we go with what works best for the inmate." Indeed, one of the metal arms with white gloved hands was coming down now and gently patted the inmates squishy bottom as his head, making the man blush but give a big toothy smile. "you wouldn't know it to look at him now, but he was a several bank robber and known for his brutal tactics. I figure with this treatment he'll be reformed in maybe 4 years..5 tops." The warden said with pride in his voice. "wow..I thought he looked familiar..Hey Ka- Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite, you gotta come and see-" Deku turned to call Katsuki over and the machines started to lift the inmate to a changing table, but the Blond was gone. "What a shock. the toddler wandered off." The warden said, and punched in a command on the control panel again, making the wall go back to normal. "we'd better go and find him.." Deku nodded and they headed up the hall towards where the the hall split into two paths, and it was there Deku looked down and found Katsuki's ID badge. "uhhh warden? what are the chances he'll be snagged without this on?" Deku asked, holding it up. "Between his attuide and wandering off into areas without at least someone else wearing a badge? 93 percent." The warden said, clearly amused. "...Weeeee better hurry...if they try and diaper him he's libel to blown this whole place up. "

Katsuki had at some point stopped playing with his badge and was just busy looking in at the different inmates, trying to see if he knew any of them from news reports and the like on tv. He made a point of knocking on the windows and getting the big babies attention and smirked as they would blush and hide (well some of them, others would just give a sheepish wave and others outright ignored him) Sadly there didn't seem to be any super villains locked up, though then again what villain would of volunteered for something like this? He was making his way to the next cell when suddenly a green light scanned over him, hurting his eyes for a second. "Ow! the fuck!?" he growled, rubbing at them. "Warning: inmate in hallway and not in proper attire. deploying prisoner recapture protocols." A robotic voice called out in the hallway, then was replaced with a sugary sweet male who started to scold him. "Now now, what are you doing out of your cell, and without your cute widdle outfit on little man? you don't wanna make a mess everywhere do you?" as it spoke, multiple holes in the walls opened up and more of the metal arms with the white gloved hands came out of them. "Uh..Hold up, I'm a superhero visiting. I've got a badge and-" Katsuki said, gulping a little and taking a step back, reaching for the badge and finding it gone. "...Well shit on a stick. guess we're doing this the hard way." Having only expected to be doing a little walk around, he hadn't stored any of his explosive sweat for use, though with a fair idea of what these things wanted to do with him, he was flop sweating enough to make up for it. "Such foul language! somebodies in for a mouth washing if he doesn't start behaving! you're already getting a spanking and corner time mister." the Voice announced. "Counter offer: fuck you." Katsuki said and went to work, blowing up two of the arms right off the bat and chagrining in, there was NO way he was gonna lose to a bunch of shitty robot arms! Or that was the going theory till as he got close one of the hands opened up and sprayed a green mist in his face. coughing and then seeing double, Katsuki pouted and got out a final statement before collapsing to the floor. "Knock out gas? No fairrrr!"

He woke up shortly after, and found himself in one of the nursery cells and almost totally naked. the almost part came from the thick mitten that had been put on both of his hands rendering his powers useless and the booties on his feet. "Nggggh.. damn cheating bas-" "Foul language detected! Bad boy! somebodies getting a mouth washing!" came the male voice over the intercom and before Katsuki could even try and fight back he found himself forced to sit up on the changing change and his arms pinned at his sides by two of the arms.A third one came out of the wall wielding a wet and sudsy bar of soap and Katsuki glared. "Go fuck yourself if you thin-" he started to rant, not quite figuring out that he should of kept his mouth shut and as such the bar was forced into his mouth and he couldn't spit it out, eyes shutting tight and soapy drool trails leaking down his chin. "Maybe five minutes as a soap sucker will help you stop swearing Little guy..but daddy isn't going to hold his breath." the voice said. 'oh good, not only is it a crazy fucking AI that wants to make me a diaper baby..but one with a sense of humor.' Katsuki thought dryly.

Five minutes later and the bar was carefully removed but held close, clearly the machine was waiting to see if he'd learned his lesson. Katsuki for his part was PISSED and wiped at his touage with his mitten hands, trying to get rid of the icky taste. 'Ok Katsuki..you've seen what being a brat got you..let's tone down the attuide and try logic...' He thought, eyeing the walls warily. He hadn't been diapered YET but it was clear that was where he was heading if he didn't figure something out. "uh..What do I call you?" Katsuki said. "Daddy of course little man,m or would you prefer a mommy?" the voice said cheerfully. 'I'd prefer someone dumped a bucket of water on your CPU' Katsuki thought but with GREAT effort kept the comment to himself. "C-Can we talk logically for a second and hold off the diapers? ..Please?" Katsuki said, giving a smile to show he was trying to be good but said smile would of terrified young kids. "..heh I'll hear you out." "Ok so..Were you programed to accept any new inmates at all today? do you have a profile on me that tells you what crimes I supposedly did?" "Scanning..Nope." Daddy said. "Alright..then if I'm not in the system, then I must be telling the truth when I tell you I'm not a inmate right?" Katsuki said and smiled for real. "Hmmm.. well the programmers have been known to be lax when it comes to updates..and you've already earned a 2 month prison term regardless." Daddy said. "What!? what for!?!" Katsuki demanded. the tv clicked to life and footage of Katsuki destroying two of the arms was played. "Destruction of government property." "..ARE YOU SHITTING ME!? YOU STARTED THAT FIGHT!" "Hmmm mouth washing didn't work, let's try anther something else..." Daddy said and the arms moved in again and restrained Katsuki on his tummy and to his horror, a large enema bag was brought out and a rather large looking nozzle. "I bet your just so grumpy because your backed up little guy!" daddy said. "..I really..really..Hate these kind of missions..." Katsuki whimpered.

Deku and the warden did finally find Katsuki, but it was only after finding the scene of the fight, and the warden warning Deku that the machine was programed to automatically add a months sentence for every damaging attack on it. "I mean, I'm sure if we get the head programmer in here we can clear that up..but the machines AI automatically files the charges with the DA so we'll have to talk to them too." the warden explained. With that knowledge in mind Deku thought he'd been prepared to see Katsuki, having known by that point he'd likely been er well..dressed as a inmate. Getting to the cell the warden believed he was in, he punched in the code to make the wall transparent and well..they were greeted by the site of a enema nozzle JUST coming out of Katsuki's backside, and he was being rapidly taped up in a massive white diaper. the blond brat's tummy was bloated and Deku almost could swear he could hear it sloshing and a Pacifier gag had been strapped to his mouth. "He must of been using excessive swearing for it to paci gag him." the warden said, sounding amused. "Yeahhh I can see that.. Uh..Anyway you can try and get this to stop? Like.maybe it won't release him but is there a training potty or something at least?" Deku asked, rubbing the back of his head. truthfully while he wanted to bust a gut laughing he knew that wouldn't be fair to Katsuki, even if the brat had brought this on himself. "Nope. once one of the super poopers goes on, it doesn't come off till filled to the brim." The warden chuckled. "..Super poopers?" "the name of that massive diaper the toddler is wearing." "..you know your enjoying this a little too much." "Oh come on, and your not, even a little bit?" Before Deku could answer he's eyes were drawn to Katsuki as the blond hunched over and loudly whined though his gag, the warden had taken the extra step of making it so they could hear everything too. "Anddd I don't think he's gonna last long enough for a training potty to get in there anyways." taping on the control panel, Katsuki went from staring down at the floor, sweat dripping at his face to looking at them and his cheeks flushed red. he held up one mitten covered hand and waved it, trying to get them to look away but daddy spoke up. "oh look little guy! you have visitors! Hello warden, How are you today?" Daddy asked.

Katsuki whined and started to cry. between the cramps and the utter humiliation of being seen like this he lost any sense of bravo and turned away from the pair watching him, trying to find somewhere to hide before he well, disgraced himself. "I'm fine Daddy. You've made a mistake though daddy, This isn't a inmate of the prison." Katsuki whimpered, massive diaper butt wiggling as he tried to crawl under the crib in the nursery and hearing Deku snort and start to laugh before coughing. "Oh, I guess the little guy was right. It doesn't matter though, per regulation 3467 he's been sentenced to two months of baby rehabilitation warden. the DA has already approved and made it final." Daddy said. "Of course you can start a appeal but that will take 3-5 business days and my little guy here is about to make presents." "wait, how can it get approved if they don't even know who he is?" Deku asked. "I sent a picture of the big baby to be to the DA's office and they handled the rest." Daddy said cheerfully. "..Man I know he pissed off some of the DA last month when they tried to give him a lecture but.." Deku said and rubbed the back of his head. "oh so he's just a ray of sunshine for everyone huh?" any further conversation was drowned out as hearing how he might actually be stuck in baby land for two whole fucking months, Katsuki lost the battle of will's and the back of his massive diaper started to fill up. a little meter even appears as the mushy mess poured out of him, going from 'clean' to 'oppise poopise' in a matter of seconds and heading for 'whoa, stinky' at a alarming pace. "awwww see? I knew my little guy was backed up! Oh! Receiving data from the DA...Update file...There's my good little Katsuki! who's a good super pooper? and such a silly baby, trying to hide!" Daddy coo'ed and then two arms came out and dragged him out from his half way hidden spot under the crib. a rocking horse was moved over as Katsuki was picked up in the air and he shook his head no over and over, but was planted with a SQUISH anyways. "Ride'em cowboy!" Daddy encouraged and Katsuki lost it and was full on bawling, even as he was forced to rock back and forth.

One week later and Katsuki had semi gotten used to his new daily routine. it didn't mean he liked having to wear and use diapers or the stupid fucking baby food or formula..but after 3 days of being gagged except for when eating he'd learned to keep his opinions to himself. he was just a baby in daddy's eyes after all as he was reminded. He got used to the squishy warm wetness that came with a wet diaper though still bawled like..well a baby every time he pooped though he made a honest to god effort to load his diapers at least twice a day to avoid anther enema. Making things so much worse for poor Katsuki was the fact that somehow it'd gotten leaked where he was, though both the warden and Deku claimed it wasn't either of them, and as such other students from the school LOVED to come back and watch Katsuki in his baby punishment. Katsuki didn't even think they should of been able to get in but the bastard warden was handing out passes like candy on Halloween night. Still, Deku had promised he'd follow up on getting Katsuki's appeal put though and get him out, and he should be getting out either today or the next. Or so he thought till a sheepish and squirming Deku visited him. "Ummm.. Sooo I have some bad news." he said. "..Don't tell me they rejected the appeal!?!" Katsuki whimpered and whined. "Uh..yeah..see..It's a little bit worse then that. After reviewing the footage and all the facts..the judge decided that you not only deserve the two months in here..he..might a added 3 month on top." "WHAT!?! But..But..I..But.." Katsuki whimpered, plopping on his diapered behind and picking up a nearby stuffie, cuddling it. "T-That's..thats not fair!" "W-well he says as a hero in training..you need to be held to a higher standard..and thanked me for pushing so much on the appeal, he wouldn't of thought of it otherwise..soooo..uh..Sorry?" Deku squeaked out. "Your sorry? Your SORRY!? I'm the one who's gonna be crapping his pants for almost half a year and YOUR sorry!?!" Katsuki growled. "Little man.." Daddy warned. "uh..Katsuki..you might wan-" Deku started but Katsuki tossed the stuffie at the wall. "know what? FUCK IT! If I'm gonna be here and get a stupid diaper punishment I might as well fucking earn it. fuck YOU! fuck DADDY, and fu-" was as far as he got before the gag was popped back in. "I'm sorry Deku, somebody is cranky and need a little time out. please come back later." Daddy said. Not wanting to watch whatever punishment the blond was about to get, Deku nodded and walked away, wondering if he maybe should of mentioned that every time daddy was forced to punish Katsuki, the blond would get a week added. 'Nah..I'll just mention it to him tomorrow when I visit.'

the end?

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spiltscribbles · 4 years

Note

andreil, 85 and 16??

Notes: Thank you so much love!!! A reblog is worth a thousand stars!

16 » “I’m going to kiss you now.”

85 » “Sometimes I really dislike you.”.”

Neil’s never been to a wedding.

He’s never seen two people exchanging vows. Has never watched their first dance after being declared as partners, or eve attended an actual reception. Hell, the closest Neil’s ever gotten to one was whenever Allison would drag him down to watch reruns of Four Weddings with her if Renee was busy.

All this to say, even with Neil’s minuscule wedding expertise, he still has the foresight to tell Matt that choosing the cake’s flavor seems like a very bride and groom sort of job, even if it’s a moot point considering that he’s already said as much a total of three times.

“I know, I know,” Matt tugs on the ends of his hair, eyes wide and frantic. “But we over booked like crazy and Dan has gotta check out something at the venue and my suit fitting’s in like a quarter of an hour and.”

“And you’re desperate?” Neil gathers.

“Completely,” Matt pouts. “And I know that it’s totally last minute and—“

“Okay,” Neil interrupts because he feels like it’s the right thing to say and he’d really rather not listen to Matt actually beg. “I can go for you guys.”

“Really!” Matt beams.

“Of course,” Neil shrugs.

Matt pulls him into a tight hug. “You’re a life saver Neil my man.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Once he leaves Neil pulls out his phone from his sock drawer to text Andrew, asks him if he’d like to tag along.

Andrew: Boyd already paid?

Me: Yes

Andrew: Fine, give me 5.

Suddenly going to this cake tasting doesn’t feel so entirely dreadful.

“Stop looking at the joint like it’s about to swallow you whole,” Andrew toots, absentmindedly thumbs a circle into the hand Neil’s got interlocked into his own. It’s a gentle moment, something casual. It’s one that Neil enjoys the most, brilliant in its simplicity. It makes him feel grounded, feel alive. It reminds him that he can have this now, a life composed of warm smiles and warmer friends and gets to call Andrew his person. His person who makes Neil feel understood and wonderful and abuzz with something so splendid that he can hardly describe it.

“Am not looking at it like that,” Neil sniffs, gives a gentle squeeze to Andrew’s hand, likes the feeling of his touch calluses and soft palms, thinks that Andrew was born to be a walking contradiction and Neil was always meant to find him and hold on tight.

“Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of frills Neil?” Andrew goads, one brow cocked and half his mouth turned up in a smile that isn’t mean, but it’s not nice either. “Princess will have a conniption.”

“Sometimes I really dislike you,” Neil informs him in a deadpan, turns his attention to the brightly smiling redhead who’s welcoming them inside for their appointment.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Andrew says lowly, is close enough so that his hot tendrils of breath skirt against Neil’s neck and blatant enough so the aforementioned redhead starts to blush.

Oh joy.

“Everyone here at Love At First Bite is dedicated to making your special day the most memorable of your lives,” the baker, Madeline, crows as they take their seats, eyes glittering with genuine mirth.

Neil elbow checks Andrew once he catches the grimace passing across his face at the comment, offers Madeline an apologetic grin. The one that always makes Allison pinch his cheek dotingly and Dan give into whatever plan he’s plotting out.

“So you guys take up a lot of weddings huh?” Neil asks her, genuinely curious.

“We’re the top bakery in the city, third year running,” she crows.

“Bet there’s some stiff competition in this wonderful town,” Andrew says wryly, utterly unimpressed. Though Madeline doesn’t seem to notice, only giggles and gets some color in her cheeks once more.

“So I’ve pulled out some slices that we think will fit your wedding perfectly from our conversation last week, let me just grab them from the kitchen.” The door swings shut in her wake and Neil nearly jolts forwards with the realization.

“She thinks ’s our wedding?”

“Hmm,” Andrew glances towards him, molten eyes squinted in confusion.

“Madeline,” Neil begins to clarify. “She thinks that me and you— that we’re, that it’s our— She thinks it’s our wedding.”

“Pretty terrified sounding Neil,” Andrew needles in a menacingly flat tone. “What, the thought of marrying me such a burden?”

Wait, what? No that’s definitely not it! That’s not even close to what Neil was thinking. He doesn’t care that she thinks they’re the grooms, not even slightly. It’s kinda the exact opposite. More like he didn’t even think of the possibility until this moment, and now— well now it’s making him feel disoriented in the best of ways. Like their’s something warm and splendid coiling deep in his stomach and his insides are pulsing with the realness of that possibility.

Neil doesn’t get to tell Andrew as much because Madeline walks in right then, hands filled by carrying a platter of various slices of cake, and sporting an exciting grin all the while.

“So I know you guys were interested in the strawberry shortcake over the phone, but actually our carrot cake is a total favorite from our customers, and I think you two would just adore it!” She says without a moment to breathe between words.

“Whatever,” Andrew huffs, grabs for the plate she’s offering and stabs his fork into the dessert with way more force than necessary.

“You guys are just so cute,” Madeline tells them, glowing as she hands another slice over to Neil. “Congratulations on the upcoming nuptials.”

“Thank you,” Neil says mostly because he knows Andrew isn’t in the mood to make small talk, besides this lady has been nothing but kind and doesn’t deserve their sourness seeping into her day also.

“So I hope I’m not intruding,” Madeline starts, inches closer as she prepares the next set of cakes for them to try. “But what was the proposal like? I always think those are just the most amazing stories from our patrons.”

“Yeah Neil,” Andrew quickly interjects, already having finished his slice and still sulking. “Why don’t you tell the nice lady how you proposed, practically begged, for me to marry you.”

Neil hates it when Andrew gets petty, hopes that the glare he’s directing his way is properly getting across that notion.

“It was quiet.” He ends up telling Madeline, though his eyes never leave Andrew’s face— a face he’s spent countless hours tracing the lines of and memorizing each slope and valley. He use to only map it out with his eyes, but then he somehow— miraculously— got to do so with soft caresses and eventually sure kisses. It’s a beautiful face, Neil’s favorite face. A face he would spend an eon just staring at if Andrew had ever been patient or willing enough to let him.

“Something private?” Madeline surmises, reminds Neil that they actually have company and she’s waiting for him to answer the question at hand.

“Yeah,” Neil nods, slow but sure. “Our friends were all over the place for the holidays, but me and Andrew stayed home, just the pair of us and our cats.” He continues to explain, knows that the best lies always have as much truth as possible mixed into them, and yes, in fact this was their precise situation this year over Christmas. And it was also one of the times that Andrew made it so Neil’s heart blossomed with something remarkable. One of the most recent times he was sure that Andrew was his world.

“I woke up, and I looked at him and I just knew it. So after he woke up and we made breakfast, I just took his hands in mine—“ Neil does that now, hesitantly because he never wants to overstep, but is reassured when Andrew’s own go pliant and he turns ever so slightly towards him. “So I look him straight in the eyes, and I told him that I love him, and I love all he’s brought into my world. I told him that I don’t want anything to ever change between us. We’re the one constant I’ve ever had in my life and I’m thankful for it every day.”

Madeline gushes with her fist pressed to her chest, and Andrew follies a nasty grimace her way for the interruption. Neil doesn’t falter though, just gazes at Andrew, thinks of how he’s always been so enthralled by him. Neil feels it in his bones how he loves him so thoroughly that it takes his breath away.

“Then what,” Andrew prods, words hugged in a tender cadence that probably no one else could pick up on, but Neil recognizes it well, and it makes his chest thud with wanting.

“And then I asked you to marry me, to stay with me till the end of time.”

A pregnant pause spills over them and Neil feels every breath escape his lungs, is only settled down when Andrew tilts his pale head and lets the smallest of grins turn up the corners of his thin lips.

“And I said yes.”

“You said yes,” Neil repeats, equal parts bewildered and amazed.

“Of course I said yes,” Andrew sniffs, but the posturing doesn’t last, his features melting into something so achingly open that Neil wants to kiss him right then and there.

“Oh how precious,” Madeline squawks, and this time it’s Neil who casts her a nasty glare.

They ultimately decide on the chocolate marble cake for the wedding, and as they walk out the bakery— hands still interlocked— Andrew turns to him, slightly smug.

“Pretty sappy shit you thought of on the spot,” Andrew goads, bright and beautiful and the one sure thing Neil’s ever known.

“I wasn’t freaked out that she thought we were married dummy, I was freaked out I hadn’t gotten to ask you myself yet,” Neil tells him, totally indignant.

A thousand emotions suddenly pull at Andrew’s face, settling on an expression that Neil could only ever describe as aw.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, words stripped from any pretense, and gazing at Neil as if he had placed all the stars in the sky. As if he were someone worth that sort of adoration. And God does Neil love him. “Yes or no”

“Yes Andrew, of course yes.”

Andrew’s Arms circle around his neck, and Neil clasps his hands on either side of his narrow waste, and they fit so perfectly that it’s hard not to think of it as fate.

Gingerly, their mouths slant over one another’s, lips cloaked in sugar and tasting like a forever Neil once only dreamed of.

#andreil #andriel #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #SPILT INK

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parkersharthook · 4 years

Text

The More I Drink

Peter Stark-Rogers & Stark-Rogers!reader (twins)

warnings: alcohol consumption, idiot 21 year olds

2.1k+ words

series masterlist

Another truth or drink because I can’t come up with my own ideas :))))) (x)

“Hi I’m Y/N Stark-Rogers.”

“And I’m Peter Stark-Rogers.”

“And we are here with Cut to celebrate our 21st birthday which occurred one week ago!”

“And to celebrate our 21st we are playing Truth or Drink twin edition.”

[Welcome to cut, we are very happy to have you here with us today. To get started, who is the favorite child?]

You laughed slightly, “between just us two or also Harley and Morgan?”

“Well if we include them, it’s definitely Morgan.” Peter laughed

“Oh hands down it’s Morgan, no questions asked.” You sipped at the rum and coke they provided you with, “but between the two of us it’s you Peter.”

Peter rolled his eyes and sipped at his own drink, “I don’t know about that…”

“Well, I do. It’s you.”

“whatever.”

[Did you know when the other lost their virginity?]

Peter grimaced, “Ew no! and I don’t want to hear about that!”

You rolled your eyes with a frown, “And I don’t want to tell you… geez. I also don’t want to know when you lost yours.”

Peter nodded, “Good we’re in agreement.”

[Have you ever stolen from each other?]

You nodded with a laugh, “Oh most definitely.”

Peter did a double, almost spitting his drink out. “What?! What did you take?”

You laughed and shrugged, “I’ve definitely taken money from your room, I steal your shirts and hoodies all the time. Oh I took your iPad for a while… I gave that one back but yeah I took it.”

Peter looked at you in shock, “You little menace…” He shook his head in disbelief, “At least I know I’m the better sibling now though because I have never stolen from you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“believe it.” Peter said over the rim of his glass.

[Who’s the more successful sibling?]

You both answered at the same time with the same answer, “Me.” Call it twin-tuition or whatever but it also might just be siblings thinking they’re better than the other.

Peter defended himself first, “are you kidding? I’m literally graduating from MIT the top of my class.”

“And I’m graduating from Columbia!” You shouted incredulously

Peter rolled his eyes, “yeah with a business major.”

Your jaw dropped in shock and slight anger, “Just because you do biomechanical engineering doesn’t make you better than me!”

“No but at least I’ll be able to get a job.” Oh you wanted to smack the smug right out of his words.

You were now shouting at him, “I’m literally taking over dad’s company when I’m older!”

Peter pointed at you harshly, “We’re both doing that and you know that. You’re just gonna be the Pepper Potts in the situation.”

You smirked at him “And you’re trying to tell me that Pepper is less successful than dad?”

Peter groaned and threw his head back, instantly reaching for another drink. “fuck, fine you got me. She’s definitely not.”

[Have you ever stolen from either of your dads?]

Peter snorted, “well I’m assuming the answer is yes if you stole from me.”

You rolled your eyes, “Well I value dad and pop’s stuff more than yours so me stealing from you means nothing.” Peter rolled his eyes as you thought about the question. “I actually don’t think I have, I’ve never needed to.”

Peter stared at you with an offended look. You raised your glass in toast to him and took a sip. Peter answered, “I took the car without asking once. That made them pretty mad but it’s not like I kept it or anything.”

“yeah I don’t think I’ve even done that.”

Peter rolled his eyes and pointed at you with his drink before taking a sip, wincing at the strong drink. “one, you’re just saying that because they’ll watch this. Two, this is literally tequila on ice.”

You laughed loudly, a little snort coming out making you cover your mouth and Peter to laugh at you. You shook your head fervently, “No, I’m not just saying this because they’ll watch it. I’m telling the truth.”

[Who’s the better looking sibling?]

Peter shouted, “Me!”

You shook your head at him, “Me!”

Peter looked at you with furrowed brows, “are you joking?!” He began to count on his fingers, “I’m tall, I have abs, I have curly brown hair, I wear glasses, I’m literally the definition of a hot nerd.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just because you’re more conventionally attractive doesn’t make you better looking.”

Peter took a small sip of his drink and shrugged, “I really think it does.”

“don’t body shame me.”

“I’m not- what?”

You sighed and groaned, “fine. You can take that one.”

[Who’s the smarter sibling?]

You took a long sip of your drink, the tequila burning your throat as it goes down. “We both know it’s you so we don’t even have to argue this”

Peter smiled, “yes… but I feel like I also radiate more dumb bitch energy.”

You laughed loudly before leveling your head, “that’s fair.”

[Who's the sluttier sibling?]

You laughed, “Oh me by like 10000 percent.”

Peter shook his head and took a generous sip, “I didn’t want to say it but….”

You smiled and nodded at him, “No, I wear that badge with pride, it’s definitely me.”

[Have you ever hooked up with one of my friends?]

You rested your chin on your fist as you looked to the ceiling. A finger on the other hand danced around the rim of your glass, your eyes squinting in though.

Peter furrowed his brows, “why do you have to think so hard? I feel like it’s a very simple yes or no answer.”

“I’m trying to remember!” you shouted in the midst of your laughter.

Peter laughed along with your, “well I haven’t!”

You pointed at him, “Lies!” You chuckled at Peter’s shocked and confused face. You continued, “You are literally dating MJ. She’s my best friend so….”

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes, “ok but we were all mutual friends. It wasn’t like I went out of my way to pick one of your friends to hook up with.”

You groaned, “Fine, I’ll let it slide.”

[which parent do you like better?]

You giggled slightly as you finished off your second glass, “I think I might be a little drunk.”

“off two glasses?” peter knocked back the rest of his, “lightweight.”

“that first drink was more rum than coke and this one was probably 4 shots of tequila over ice.”

Peter raised a single brow at you and poured himself a shot of vodka, “lightweight. Shot?”

You rolled your eyes, “yeah sure.” The two of you knocked back the shots easily, only a slight grimace present on your faces.

Peter shook his head like a dog and smacked his own check lightly a few times, “focus. Back to the question.”

You looked off camera with a lazy smile, “which was?’

[which parent do you like better?]

Peter shook his head, “I’m not answering that…”

You also shook your head, “I’m not answering that either… I mean, I have an answer but I’m not gonna say it.”

Peter widened his eyes at you, “you have an answer? I honestly don’t think I could choose.”

You winked obnoxiously, “I can and I did.”

Peter giggled, “they are so gonna kill you when they see this.”

“are you kidding? They’re gonna shower me with shit to become the favorite or to woo it out of me.”

Peter laughed again and you could see his cheeks get a little pink. Oh yeah… he was getting drunk. “now they’re not because you said that.”

“oh they definitely paused the video right after I said that. The rest of this is moot to them.”

Peter laughed loudly, head thrown back and eyes shut tight. He sobered up pretty quickly though when he remembered, “wait do we have to take a shot because we didn’t answer?”

“fuck.”

Two more shots down the hatch.

[did either of you have sex in the others’ bed?]

You grimaced and shook your head, “no.”

Peter gagged obnoxiously, “god no.”

You nodded, sipping your third drink. “good.”

Peter agreed, “I’m glad that’s that.”

[Have you ever disliked one of your sibling’s partners?]

Peter leaned his head against the back of the chair and slouched dramatically, “oh god yes!”

You opened your mouth like a gaping fish, “What?!”

Peter threw his hands out, exasperated. “you’ve dated such shitty people!”

You pointed at him, “But that’s not fair! You’ve only had one girlfriend and she’s my best friend.”

Peter shrugged, “I mean I kinda dated Liz…”

“Yeah but I liked her too, she was also my friend.”

Peter smiled a little smugly and sipped his cup with a pinky raised, “I guess I just have good taste.”

You snapped your fingers, “Oh wait! there was one I didn’t like.”

Peter frowned in confusion, “what? Who?”

“Harry.”

“oh.” A pause, “Ooohhhhh.” Peter chuckled loudly, “You just didn’t like us together because you wanted him for yourself.”

“Not true.”

“so true.”

You pinched your fingers together, the two hovering a centimeter apart. “Fine, a little true. But he was also kinda a dick.”

Peter nodded and sipped at his glass, “good thing that didn’t last long.”

[who of your sibling’s friends is the hottest?]

You clicked your tongue, “Oh Johnny by farrrrr.”

Peter scrunched his face up, “really? Johnny?”

You nodded enthusiastically, “Oh yeah and I know you can appreciate beauty in men so you must agree with me.”

Peter shrugged slightly, “I don’t know… I guess Johnny just isn’t my type. Also, Harley is not going to be happy about that. He’s very protective over his friends.”

You smiled into your glass, “Well he can get over it soo… What about you?”

“MJ, obviously.”

You rolled your eyes, “Cop out.”

Peter scoffed, “do you want me to name someone other my girlfriend who I think is hot?”

You groaned, “Ugh fineee”

[If your sibling killed someone, would you help them hide the body?]

Peter shook his head and sighed, “no.”

“What!? I would help you!”

Peter threw his hands up in defense, “no! I do not need to be dragged into that. One of us has to make dads look good!”

“Okay well, we already established that that wasn’t going to be me.”

Peter shook his head at you, “still not helping you.”

You looked at peter with contempt, “Wow, I bet Harley would help me.”

“Then ask him.”

[Who’s your favorite aunt/uncle?]

You shrugged and rolled your head slightly, “I don’t think I have a favorite… I’m closest to Sam but that doesn’t necessarily make him my favorite.”

Peter laughed, “oh, so you can pick a favorite out of our dads but not our aunts and uncles.”

Your eyes rolled so hard, Peter thought you might’ve seen the back of your head. “Oh my god… let it go. Can you pick a favorite aunt or uncle?”

Peter nodded and answered quickly, “Thor.”

You laughed, “Nat’s gonna kill you”

Peter’s eyes widened in shock, “fuck! I take it back, it’s definitely Nat.”

You shook your head, “Can’t take it back now…”

Peter shrugged and casually said, “I’m dead.”

[What’s the most embarrassing story you can think of about one of our family members? If you can’t answer take 2 shots]

Peter grimaced and looked to the camera, “I don’t think we can answer that…”

You shrugged, “I’ll answer it no problem.”

Peter looked to you, “y/n…”

You scoffed playfully, “right, like Clint doesn’t embarrass himself in public on the daily.”

“c’mon y/n… I don’t think-"

“pussy.” Peter frowned at you. You turned to the camera animated, “One time Clint was trying to pull a prank on our dads and he was executing said plan through the air vents and one of the vent opening grate things was loose and when he put his weight on it, he fell through and onto Bucky’s lap in the common area so everyone saw it.” You waggled a finger in the air, “Very funny.”

[Are there any secret relationships going on in the tower? If you can’t answer take 2 shots.]

“Can’t say.”

Two more shots. Both you and Peter grimaced as the alcohol went down. You both were definitely a little drunk now.

[Is the black widow a maternal figure?]

Peter smiled, “actually yeah…”

“She babysat us all the time when our dads were unavailable or had date night or whatever.” You smiled as you recalled the fond memory.

“Best aunt we could ask for.”

You chuckled slightly, “Don’t tell pepper, she’ll be mad.”

[Last one, do you enjoy being a twin?]

“of course!” Peter exclaimed

You shrugged casually, “Eh.”

Peter looked offended, “y/n!”

You laughed, “Kidding, kidding. You know I love you Pete. I don’t think I could life without you.”

Peter smiled at you, “ditto.”

“ditto?! You fucking respond to that with ditto?!”

Peter laughed and took one last sip, “love ya sis.”

edited 5/18/20

#marvel #spiderman #reader #peter stark rogers #peter parker #superfamily #reader insert #peter parker & reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #superfamily fanfiction #superfamily imagine #reader fanfiction #reader imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #stark!reader #stark-rogers!reader

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secret-engima · 4 years

Text

alyss-spazz-penedo

hey, @secret-engima, hear me out: what if GILGAMESH became Glaucus' Shield? Like, after the two Murder Brats jumped into the Tempering Grounds and Glaucus has to fish them out, the man takes a moment to chew GIL out for endangering children like that, he SAW that last swing and it was aimed unacceptably close to a vital area, what even is he doing STILL haunting the damn Tempering Grounds anyway when the next worthwhile opponent won't be for literal decades (ie. Gladio)

alyss-spazz-penedo

So Gil is clubbed over the head with the idea that he doesn't actually have to follow 200 years of habit and, like. Ardyn's moved on, is living a life, and Gil KNOWS what's coming and that there's no value to holding his post, killing off idiots, once these people leave bc Cor was the only worthwhile opponent for literal decades. He can... he can take a VACATION.

alyss-spazz-penedo

....He has no idea what to do with a vacation, so he falls back on EVEN OLDER HABITS and is like well let's play Shield for a LC then. And maybe, MAYBE he'd pick Ardyn, but there's just. So much history there. That wouldn't... that wouldn't WORK, it would hurt them both just to try.

alyss-spazz-penedo

Which leaves just one LC available (arguably, bc Titus would absolutely fight him for the position but the brat's too young still. Maybe in a few years). And, Gilgamesh KNOWS what's up with Glaucus-once-Cor-Leonis, might be the only person in the world who DOES know, and that's//

alyss-spazz-penedo

*and that's... that's something I think Glaucus might really need. Just. Someone to help him remember who he WAS,

alyss-spazz-penedo

(Also, the thought of Ardyn and Gil wandering around being terrible at self-care and utter bemused by the world amuses me. Also Besithia would probably be an Utter Scientific Glee)

Me: *deep breath*

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

BUCKLE UP RAMBLE FICLET INBOUND.

-It starts after the Murder Children are idiots and Glaucus has to come rescue them. Titus and Cor have never been more humbled, confused, and terrified than watching Glaucus snark at a 2k year old potential eldritch abomination and GET AWAY WITH IT. Glaucus actually makes Gilgamesh shuffle in shame when he lectures about how close he came to actually HURTING two of Glaucus’s kids. How dare.

-Then Glaucus takes a long, hard look at Gil and abruptly tells him to take a vacation. It’s not like the world is gonna end if he leaves the Tempering Grounds for a decade or so (Titus and Cor are a Fear™, don’t tell the monster to LEAVE it’s hideout and roam the world Glaucus!!). Gil stares at Glaucus in a stunned silence, Glaucus grunts and walks away, lecturing the two murder children.

-Gil thinks ... long and hard on Glaucus’s words.

-In the end decides it’s a moot point because when he was first cursed to this place he did try to leave a few times but he couldn’t. His curse wouldn’t let him. Pity though ... a vacation had sounded ... nice.

-That’s right around the time Ifrit shows up.

-Now, Ifrit doesn’t like humans, even after giving Glaucus his Blessing for the time-travel thing. He tolerates a few of them, even finds Glaucus and his group funny, but on the whole doesn’t like them. Know what he does like? Screwing over Bahamut. And when Glaucus mentioned Gilgamesh’s curse situation within Ifrit’s earshot (ie said it aloud at all because Ifrit tends to watch them from afar like his only tolerated cable tv channel), Ifrit got IDEAS.

-So Gilgamesh is in his Tempering Grounds, minding his own business and being broody bored when there’s a rush of fire and Ifrit the Infernian is standing there looking ... cunning.

-“Mortal.” Ifrit intones.

-“Not really,” Gilgamesh snarks because he’s a walking suit of armor cursed to live until the Chosen King comes, what’s Ifrit gonna do? Curse him again?

-Ifrit just grins “How would you like to change that?”

-Excuse him?

-Anyway after much smug talking from the Infernian, much sarcasm from Gilgamesh, and some severe bending of the rules of curses with a little shapeshifting magic thrown in for flavor, Gilgamesh kinda- blinks and finds himself outside the Tempering Grounds. In the sunlight.

-For the first time in 2k years.

-Yeah there might have been a panic attack or three. Especially because he now had lungs with which to HAVE a panic attack again. Ifrit had granted him a human form (one-armed and with a scar on his back just like the missing arm of his armor and the rend Titus had made) which technically Ifrit shouldn’t have been able to, except apparently he can just this once because he’s not bothering to use a human disguise and he was GOOD at this kind of magic while the rest of the Astrals were too busy being holier than thou to bother learning human-friendly enchantments.

-Gilgamesh sets off into the wilds, quickly figures out he has forgotten how to maintain an eating or sleeping schedule and he’s probably gonna go into a coma or something if he travels alone. So with a dry smile (that feels so good he HAS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AGAIN. WOOT.) he sets off for where he can feel the magic of the time-traveling Sword.

-A week-ish after Ifrit shows up, so maybe 2-3 weeks after the Murder Children do their thing, Glaucus is having some “me time” out in the forest (happily murdering things to bring back to camp later without having a nattering crowd on his heels, he loves his idiots and Regis’s group, but sometimes they’re ... a bit much) when all the hairs on his neck prickle. He looks up and sees two red eyes glowing faintly in the shadows.

-The figure steps out wordlessly, hand away from his sword. One arm is missing and the man stands at a massive 7′6″, his eyes are a dark red that glints in the low lightning, his shaggy brown hair is pulled back into half-tail to keep it out of his face, which has scars on the right side from some old fight.

-Glaucus lowers his sword, but doesn’t ease from his stance, “I didn’t know you could look human, Gil,” he says almost flippantly.

-“Had a little help from your pet Astrals,” Gilgamesh retorts, his smile tugging at his scars. His posture is relaxed and non-threatening and almost ... uncertain. Like he isn’t sure what to say or how Glaucus will react.

-Glaucus just looks at him thoughtfully before snorting, “My gang of idiots is not the best place for a vacation.”

-Gilgamesh is blunt and open, “I’ve forgotten how to sleep when the moon rises, when to eat so I won’t pass out. I cannot die until the Chosen King comes into his own, but it is still unpleasant. I also...” he hesitates, “I do not remember how to function without a purpose. To fight. To guard the Grounds. To await the Last Shield. Without them ... I am lost.”

-“So you came to me.”

-“You are the only Lucis Caelum without a Shield.”

-Glaucus sneers “A Sword doesn’t need a Shield,” he scoffs, “and isn’t Ardyn more your speed?”

-Gilgamesh winces, “I have made my apologies,” and hadn’t that been a dramafest when Glaucus dragged the newly purified Ardyn to the Tempering Grounds for Gilgamesh to apologize to him, “but we will never stand united as a Shield and a King. I have broken his trust once, he does not give it a second time. Not in the way he would need for me to be his Shield. Besides,” and now Gilgamesh smiles ruefully, “For all his bite, the young Drautos is more a Shield than the Little Lion will ever be.”

-Glaucus flinches at the far off memory, of promising to be Regis’s second Shield, of protecting him no matter what only to fail. But Gilgamesh did not mean the words as an insult and the man makes a point. For all his recklessness and snark and fury, Titus is protective. His instinct is to kill on behalf of something rather than just to feel the adrenaline in his veins. He is protective of Ardyn, and Ardyn listens to the boy. Glaucus sheaths his sword and flexes his hands, “I don’t know how to have a Shield,” he admits softly, “you know I’m not ... natural.” Not a natural LC, not a born one, a time-traveler added to the line for the sake of the future and nothing more.

-“Neither am I,” Gilgamesh shrugs, “it is nothing to be ashamed of. You have the instincts to forge a Shield Bond imprinted in your very magic. I will swear fealty, and you will command me.”

-“Doesn’t that take trust?” Glaucus points out, “You’ve tried to kill me once before, and I know what you did to Ardyn.”

-A pause. A weighted reply of, “it takes trust. The trust that I will fight by your side and be strong enough to watch your back, that I will voice my opposition but obey your every command. The trust that there is no secret you can hold that will turn me away from you.” The last part is meaningful, pointed.

-They stand there in the increasing gloom of dusk for a long time. A former Leonine Sword and a Cursed Shield.

-Then Glaucus laughs, rough and wild and bloody. His eyes spark silver-bright as his magic reaches out and angrily, possessively tangles around Gilgamesh. It carves away the old, tattered, withered bond he once held with Somnus, a blade cutting away a rotted limb, then coils into place. A silent demand for loyalty, a silent acceptance of all Gilgamesh is and has done. Gilgamesh kneels and swears fealty to a new king, a old lion with glittering claws, and in the quiet of twilight, Glaucus names him Gildas, Gilgamesh’s old name from before he was the Mystic’s Shield, his current name of blood and trials and terror, both cast aside in favor of the new one. A new start.

-Gildas rises and follows Glaucus back to camp.

-While the rest of the groups stare in surprise at the massive, one-armed giant of a man Glaucus comes back with, Ardyn stills. Gildas and Ardyn stare at each other for some time, long enough for Titus to bristle protectively, not quite recognizing Gildas as the unarmored and once-more human Gilgamesh. Then Ardyn smiles, sad and understanding and ... forgiving, and pats the Haven in welcome, “Come, friend, introduce yourself to us and enjoy a meal.”

-Gildas dips his head, submission and gratitude all in one, “I am Gildas,” he rumbles, “and-”

-Glaucus interrupts, a slight, possessive lion’s growl in his voice, “He is my Shield.”

-The camp erupts into chatter and questions and shouting save Ardyn, who just smiles sadly and shuffles over to make room for an old once-friend. They will never be what they once were, will never trust each other like they once did, but Ardyn has always been too forgiving of a soul when the scourge did not turn him bitter, and he knows that Gilgamesh has been trapped in the Tempering Grounds for two thousand years with only the voices of the dead to keep him company as he awaited the Chosen King, just as Ardyn was trapped for two thousand years with only the screaming of the daemons to break the silence. In Ardyn’s mind, Gilgamesh has been punished enough.

-Better to forgive and move on in this new time, than to hold onto grudges two thousand years gone.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #The Future's Blurry (the Past is Trap) verse #yesssss #gilgamesh (ffxv)#cor leonis #ffxv au

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cenobiavigantzky · 3 years

Text

Wraith's Last Flight

EMISSION WARNING

The warning tone that accompanied those words echoed in the mindscape of the diminutive pilot. His shell smiled in the enclosed cockpit, a mental command diverting power from the main reactor to the supercapacitors in the cargo hold.

“Etel, they’re inside maximum range.” Rence exhaled nervously, finger hovering over the button that’d release the magnetic clamps holding his craft to the underside of his partner’s, his other hand firmly gripping the control yoke.

“I know.” The voice coming over the comms was synthesized- it could only be, after all. Still, the mischievous tone told his fellow mercenary all he needed to know.

He was going to pull that stunt. Again.

“Could you go a single job without giving me a gorramn heart attack out of worry?” His Remora-class Interceptor’s sensors were cold, but the datalink with his partner’s Cetorhinus-class Transport told him all he needed to know. The red dots were getting concerningly close.

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I just want to make your job easier, after all.” Four chimes let the support pilot know that their trap was ready to be sprung. He chuckled darkly, watching the activation prompt overlap his sensor suite.

“Etel!” Before the taller pilot could argue further, the cargo bay doors atop the small transport starship flung open violently, barely preceding a thunderous discharge of directed radiation covering the entire electromagnetic spectrum. Four sensor signatures changed from red to gray.

Dozens of kilometers away, raider crews cursed and swore at the middling, seemingly innocuous escort craft that’d just fried every component in their ships. Even the main reactors entered their safety shutdown mode to avoid loss of plasma containment, a system present in every spacefaring vessel to save the lives of the crew in case of catastrophic system failure.

Sadly for the meticulously designed machine, its efforts would soon be made moot.

“See? Perfectly safe. Go get them, tiger.” The flirtatious voice was Rence’s clue to bring his Interceptor’s own modules hot and maneuver out from its hiding position. He felt the carefully calibrated resistance of the main trigger under his right index while the acceleration pushed him into the seat.

A thought from within a composite coffin opened up a new communications channel. “Logistar Three-Three-Seven-Four-Niner, this is Cormorant One. Bandits are no factor. You’re cleared for thruster relight, over.”

On the other side of the small transport from the currently ongoing one-sided massacre, three circles of blue light came to life, each dwarfing either of the escort craft. From Etel’s point of view, the very horizon seemed to be shifting thanks to millions of tonnes of spacecraft laboriously changing relative velocity to himself. Slowly but inexorably, the worn but well kept engines pushed the lumbering metal giant onwards through its journey.

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

Unruly brown hair whipped in the wind against a young man’s face in the mild bustle of the Starport. Distant announcements echoed off the featureless gray walls, people and cargo moving about in the typical languid pace of a small, far-flung colony of a budding agrarian world.

His task of hangaring the ships finished almost a quarter of an hour ago, there was nothing for Cormorant Two to do but wait.

Halfhearted daydreams of distant retirement were interrupted by a smaller arm touching his for a second, the holographic display of his personal wrist computer showing the infusion of funds to his account. If one were to look closely, they’d notice the synthetic nature of the body that barely came up to his chest- as it was, its owner smiled up at him.

“We got a nice bonus from the salvage crews. Next job is in four days.” Etel’s silver hair bobbed in front of him while the fellow pilot skipped ahead happily. Rence sighed, removing himself from leaning back against a support pillar with a groan of effort to catch up.

It would be nice if his body didn’t feel twenty years older than it actually was.

The fake leather of his worn aviator jacket rustled with each step- perhaps something that could be avoided were him to take his hands out of its pockets. Too bad, they were warm, and would stay warm.

A lithe arm from his longtime friend wrapped around one of his the moment they were side by side, falling in step with the practice of a dancing duo. Which he supposed they were, in a generously metaphorical way. “Just dealing with that took you so long?”

Gentle, androgynous features sharpened in mock offense when looking up at him. “Of course not, doofus. Networking, negotiating, mingling with the locals- you know this operation isn’t just blowing up helpless idiots. Your job is the latter because you have the social skills of a recluse porcupine.”

A beatific- and notoriously fake- smile now coloured Etel’s face. “Little people person me’s job is to keep this whole thing running. Which is why you have to make do with my absence for an hour or two every once in a while.” A hand came to his forehead in mock despair. “I know, it’s a peerless tragedy, my love. But I’m afraid fate has cursed us so.”

Rence didn’t bother rolling his eyes, relying on the utterly flat tone of his response to convey the necessary sarcasm. “Yes, my pain is unimaginable every time.”

Truth be told, he couldn’t help but worry when his partner was alone. But said partner already knew that, so admitting it would be pointless teasing fodder.

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

“I’ll get a large house’s special. Thanks.” The lights of the small colony clawed futilely at the dark abyss through the windows of the small family diner. Perhaps one day, they would be a match; but that day had not arrived quite yet.

“And you, kid?” The older woman behind the front bar turned to Etel, whomst happily sipped his sweetened drink- made with something local, he didn’t quite ask. -while still leaning against his partner in crime, even while both were sitting at stools.

“Oh, don’t mind me Ma’am, I’ll just steal some of his.” The apparent young teenager shook his head, smiling happily. Said happiness coming from the fact that Rence’s jacket was wrapped around him, taking the worse off the chill that still bit through the connection suit.

He could have gotten his civvie clothes out of the Cetorhinus, but there was little reason to when the option of simply abusing his wingman’s kindness was available.

That, and the jacket with the names of every member of Cormorant cheaply printed on its back held a very special meaning for both of them- slowly falling apart or not. Perhaps the universe’s way of displaying metaphorical irony at its own tragedies.

Before long, the brown haired pilot leaned closer still, doing his best to appear inconspicuous- and failing horribly at it, but perhaps the intention is what counted.

“Another one giving me the side-eye.” At least his whispering skills were not so bad to have the entire establishment hear it.

“Well, to be fair, to the unattentive eye it does look like you’re planning on doing something exceedingly illegal with me.” Etel smirked, offering a sip of the pink coloured liquid in his cup to the other man, who warily took a small sample before grimacing.

“Spirits, I’ll never know how you manage to find the most sickeningly sweet thing in every place we go to.” Rence gladly returned the glass to its rightful owner.

“And yeah, the whole ‘funny misunderstanding’ angle kinda lost its luster to me after the fourth time someone called the police. We’ve had the credits for an adult-type shell for years now, you know.”

“I know.” The flight leader responded nonchalantly. “But it’s not my style. It just wouldn’t be me.” He winked at his partner. “Besides, you wouldn’t like it as much either; I know what makes you tick.”

“I wouldn’t mind. It’d still be you.” The silver haired ‘kid’ looked at his companion, sighing wistfully. “I guess you just can’t help it when your heart is wrapped around my finger like that, can you?”

Despite the teasing tone, his eyes held genuine fondness towards the taller man. Quite how he managed to make a shell express such complex, minute emotions; would forever be a mystery.

“It’s fine, I’ll just do the usual.”

Turning around, Etel made a show of stretching his body, one hand deliberately holding his shoulder length hair aside from the back of the neck. He smiled in success at hearing the small pause in cooking noises.

It meant the older woman had noticed the data ports that marked his body as, without a doubt, artificial. The surreptitious way he’d developed to disarm thoughts that Rence was some sort of abuser without bringing up the topic itself and making a scene had yet to fail them once.

Truth be told, convincing local constabularies to let the man go had indeed gotten somewhat old.

The first drops of rain touched the ground outside, refracting the meager lights of the colony on their way down. Distant points became blurs, joining the white noise of the mounting shower. Rence turned around on his stool, noticing his partner’s lost gaze into the distance. He knew why, of course.

It always rained in Pascia. An eternal downpour that hid the military spaceport where they’d met, both having been offered a better life in exchange for their efforts in the war. Them, and dozens more children, none older than twelve cycles. Innocents to be turned into pilots, to push the limits of what humans could achieve in the heavens-

-or so they’d been told. Sometimes the taller pilot wondered if the small, unmarked graves he and Etel had made in one of the hills overlooking the landing strips still stood. The members of Cormorant deserved better. They all did. Rence wrapped an arm around the shorter man, gently pulling him closer and rubbing his shoulder.

His flight leader might still blame himself for it. He’s just glad the graves stopped at six.

The sound of ceramic being placed on hardwood brought the pair’s attention back to the front bar. “Here you go. And I’m sorry for-” The older woman trailed off, embarrassed to admit her initial misconception by name. A wistful sigh preceded a warm smile framed by silver hair. “We understand, Ma’am. It’s not the first time.”

The other pilot nodded in agreement, taking the warm plate filled with a mix of vegetables and meat, local and not. “Thanks.” He didn’t even know what most of them were, but Etel had picked the place- that was reason enough to trust it.

The hours of the night passed inexorably, further diminishing the number of people inside the diner. Most had either left or moved upstairs for the night, but the pair couldn’t quite bring themselves to just yet.

It possibly had something to do with the way Rence held him, arms wrapped around from behind, pulling his smaller body close in the comfortable booth. It was his place of peace, of being able to actually enjoy the soothing sound of rainfall with the one person he loved at his side.

The spell was only broken when the sound of ice clinking against glass interrupted the comfortable silence- one that came from his right arm starting to shake. A disappointed huff escaped his plump lips. He could feel a larger hand enveloping his, diminishing the unwanted movement.

But not stopping it.

“Getting bad?” It wasn’t the first, tenth, or hundredth time the issue had reared its annoying head, but the sweet, caring fool’s voice held just as much concern as the first happenstance of the event.

At least by now he understood it, so Etel didn’t feel so guilty about making his partner worry pointlessly- though at this point he also knew that it could keep happening for a hundred years, and Rence would still worry to some degree. It was just one of the conditions of their relationship.

“Yeah. I should still be able to walk, but it’s better if we turn in now. I don’t want to have you snapping your spine carrying my shell upstairs.” A shaking elbow poked the taller man’s midsection, the usual cocky smile adorning the flight leader’s face once again.

No matter how many times he told his wingman that the episodes didn’t trigger actual pain, they’d still probably never believe him.

Two taps on the table and a hand signal was all the brown haired pilot needed to inform the owner that she could close shop. Etel preempted her offer while Rence helped him walk towards the stairs to the side of the bar.

“N-not real-lly. B-but thank-k you. I’ll be fi-ine.” The words were stuttered and clipped, but at least came out. He was thankful for her kindness, but there was really nothing she could do to help. It’d spread to most of his body by then, but at least his legs were still working.

For now.

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

For small blessings- not that such beliefs were common anymore- the pair were able to make it to their assigned room for the night before the silver haired flight lead lost complete control of his body, cybernetic as it may be. The taller of the two held him close in bed while the shaking worsened to the point where it was easier for Etel to simply use his auxiliary speakers.

His teeth were clattering too hard to do otherwise.

“Thanks, Rence.” The voice was less natural than his normal one, but the other man didn’t mind. He just continued to hold his partner.

“I just wish I could do more.” The wingman whispered.

“You’re already doing everything that you can. It really helps, and you know this doesn’t actually hurt; it’s just annoying.”

Slowly, the shorter pilot managed to fight the shaking enough to wrap his arms around his lover. Even though his own body was thermally controlled to match a human’s- a perk of this specific type of shell- Rence’s warmth was still immensely soothing.

A sudden, synthesized chuckle cut through the tense atmosphere of the room.

“Sometimes I wonder what the two of us back in flight training would react like if they could see us today.”

Etel could feel the smile forming against his hair. “I’d be very confused. You’d probably just grin.”

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

Ten Years Earlier

The young pilot to be groaned at the display showing the results of the latest Electronic Warfare aptitude test. He hadn’t placed badly by any means- second place out of several dozen participants was more than respectable.

The other kids around him chalked the reaction down to an overdeveloped sense of competitiveness- which he was known for almost as much as his inability to socialize in any way, shape or form.

The real reason being he’d placed just below his roommate, therefore losing the bet they’d made. Their egos had clashed from day one, helped in no small part thanks to opposing personalities. Time only made the issue worse by having the two leapfrog each other in every test, whether practical or theoretical.

They had finally been able to come to a ceasefire of sorts by using bets to disarm the tension, the latest being that the loser would need to obey a single order from the winner, no matter what. Rence had been the winner of the last one, using his wish to have Etel clean their room- childish, perhaps, but he could not come up with anything else.

The taller teenager steeled himself for the inevitable revenge, stepping into their shared dwelling. He was met by silver hair that framed an expression of a metaphorical cat that had caught the canary.

“I see someone checked the results.” The shorter trainee’s voice was overflowing with mirth- which only made the other more nervous.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get it over with. Want me to get stuff done this time?” Rence closed the door, leaning back against it and crossing his arms in an unconscious effort to show resistance. Grey light illuminated the small room through the window, having fought valiantly through the eternal clouds that covered Pascia.

Quite why someone had picked a planet like this for a military aerospace base would forever befuddle him.

Long eyelashes blinked mischievously at him, the purple eyes behind them studying him from below from several angles while their owner hummed in thought. After a long moment, Etel spoke.

“A kiss.” His smile broke into a full-on grin.

The brown haired roommate blinked for several seconds, running the absurdity of the request over in his mind. His response was peerlessly eloquent.

“I- what- why!?”

A head tilted in front of his chin- they’d been around the same height at the start, but his growth spurt was leaving the other teenager behind easily.

“Because it’s what I want. Or are you going to back off the very first time you lost?” The sheer self-satisfaction emanating from his rival was almost physical in its intensity.

“I just-” Rence sighed, looking away while blood slowly crept up to his cheeks at the thought. “If that’s all you want, you could literally ask any of the girls. Or half of the guys. They’d all jump at the chance.”

An index pressed against Etel’s cheek theatrically, looking up in fake thought. “I guess that’s true.” It was, and they both knew it.

While most people steered clear of the antisocial prodigy, the other trainee who led the rankings in just as many exercises was a magnet for people, both thanks to his ability to easily talk with anyone about seemingly anything, and the way his appearance seamlessly mixed male and female characteristics- a recipe to being the object of affection or desire to many in the training program.

That fact only made his specific request all the more odd.

“But they’re them. You’re you.” Somehow, that explanation made complete sense for the shorter kid. How, Rence had no idea.

“And why me?” His confusion had reached a peak.

“I have no idea.” Etel smiled innocently, closing his eyes in cheekiness. His rival groaned, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead in frustration. It was always like that with him, which was no small part of the initial friction between the two.

At least he was getting used to it. Or so he thought.

Rence sighed. “Fine. Let’s do it, I guess.” From a completely neutral point of view, he had to admit that the silver haired teenager was attractive- but with his focus entirely on personal performance, what anyone looked like was simply not something the taller kid cared about; hormones be damned.

The way his heart rate skyrocketed when Etel physically placed Rence’s arms around his thinner waist, at the sensation of smaller hands wrapping themselves around his shoulders and an unfairly androgynous face tilting up to reach his own-

-said neglected hormones were merciless in their revenge for being ignored for so long. Still, he tried his best to swallow away the desire to hold the smaller form in his arms tighter.

Brown eyes widened in puzzlement at the touch of a small tongue against dry lips, fruitlessly trying to find explanation in half-lidded purple orbs. Was that how kisses worked? It’s not like he had one before, but the few times he’d seen them in vids were decidedly not like this.

That’s not to say it didn’t feel nice, rather the opposite.

Softer lips started making contact with his, causing a sigh to escape his nose; the larger body slowly relaxing and adapting to the new situation- like it always did.

While Etel achieved his performance through analysis and solving of problems, Rence’s forte was instinctively doing what ‘felt right’ instead of any explicable line of thought. Much to the frustration of many an instructor.

When a smaller tongue started caressing a larger one, neither cadets were paying attention to anything else but the sensations of their bodies together, their warmth flowing from one another, the combined scent. What both thought would not last 20 seconds had gone on for far longer- just how long, none could say.

Judging at how swollen both sets of lips were when they finally came apart, gasping for air; far too long and at the same time not nearly long enough.

Etel smiled with a mix of mischievousness and satisfaction, carefully wiping errant saliva from the kiss away with his thumb. “Not bad. I’m looking forward to next time.” His voice left no questions that there would be a next time.

By the time Rence’s mind had cleared, the shorter male was already laying in the lower bunk that he’d long since declared his possession, nonchalantly browsing the base’s intranet in his portable comm. The taller teenager cleared his throat and tried to busy himself with something, anything in his rucksack.

“What do you mean by that?” His voice cracking was bad enough, he didn’t need his rival seeing that his face was still as red as a tomato.

“Hmm, I wonder.” A lighthearted, musical tone was all the answer he got.

There was a next time, of course. If there was something Etel was better at than piloting, it was always getting what he wanted. Before long, the pretense of bets was dropped entirely, rivalry replaced by tentative connections which further evolved into genuine affection- and further exploration of said connections, of course. They were teenagers after all.

Teenagers about to be sent into war.

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

Six Years Earlier

“They’ve got a lock! I can’t-” Garbled noises interrupted Cormorant Six’s final transmission before her craft broke apart under sustained autocannon fire. Etel’s teeth nearly cracked from the tension they were under.

What was once a squadron of eighth fighters was now down to two units, and only because the jamming support and its wingman were to stay outside direct engagement range to safely act as force multipliers.

All around them, peerless works of engineering, from nimble interceptors to kilometers-long behemoths broke up under sustained assault by equally beautiful machines, masterworks of humanity set alight in the dark seas of space. Its masters and guides offered in sacrifice with their creations to the species’s never ending struggle with themselves.

A sight equally beautiful as it was tragic.

The worst part is that he’d warned command about this. Their jamming was getting less and less effective with every new battle, while the enemy’s was only improving. It was only a matter of time before their biggest advantage was nullified, no matter how much he fiddled with the frequencies and settings of his craft’s electronic warfare suite.

The silver haired squad leader had simply been able to delay the inevitable.

“Wraith, what should we do?” Rence had dutifully covered his six during the entire flight, not that it had been necessary for once. With its main capability neutered, a single craft maneuvering just outside the furball wasn’t an especially important target.

Unfortunately, said furball, now firmly dominated by the enemy, was their only path out of the slaughter. The sheer amount of weapons fire and debris all around the remains of Cormorant Squadron made any other avenue of escape implausible at best, impossible at worst.

“Etel?” For the first time, he heard something in his- what were they, even? Partners? Boyfriends? Neither of them had bothered to find a word to describe their relationship. They simply never thought it necessary.

But for the first time, Rence’s voice was tinged by fear.

A support fighter and a space superiority craft against eight dedicated interceptors. No matter how good they were, those odds would end with the complete destruction of Cormorant Squadron. He would die.

But most importantly, Rence would die. Just like Peton, Clouise, Thilly, Mildra, Tera and Ryne had before him.

In the heart of a maelstrom of steel, polymers, fire and ceramic that stretched for hundreds of kilometers in every direction, Etel pulled out the onboard systems access keyboard of his craft.

“Fang, stay outside of their weapons range. I’ll clear a path.” His wingman’s stomach turned to ice when he noticed the jamming module passing by above his cockpit- ejected from his flight leader’s craft.

Said leader hovered a finger over the button to activate a batch file he’d prepared one day. ‘Leaf on the wind.’ It was completely suicidal, but he never figured he’d need to actually use it. Perhaps the mere existence of it tempted fate. More likely, it was simply a consequence of the lives they’d chosen.

Either way, it tasted bitter in his mouth.

“Etel, what are you doing? You can’t take them on alone! Let me help!” Cormorant Two tried increasing engine power to get back in a position to protect the other craft, but his throttle refused to move. The message in one of his displays felt like a strike to the gut.

LEAD CRAFT OVERRIDE_

“I’m sorry, Rence. I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Etel felt his body be pressed painfully against the back of the seat while his targeting solution switched to manual. His systems were awash with warning messages, many of which were supposed to be a death sentence to both spacecraft and pilot.

He’d just need to find out for sure.

FLIGHT ASSISTANCE OFF

G LIMITER OFF

ENGINE LIMITER OFF

OVERVOLTAGE PROTECTION OFF

REACTOR LIMITER OFF

THERMAL PROTECTION DISABLED_

‘Fang’ watched in mute horror while the craft he was supposed to protect sped towards the waiting enemies- glowing specks of thrust chamber lining trailing in its wake, mingling with the stars beyond even while the fighter they came from slowly but surely began to come apart from the inside out.

Machine and man flew together as one for the first, and last, time- a bittersweet song of violence and art, unbound by future or fear. Writing their hope of survival for their beloved with glowing tracers and leaking plasma against the cold of the abyss, creating maneuvers with no names for the sake of simply staying alive just one more moment, dodging one more round to open a path.

But for each opponent fallen, the price was paid with draining shields, glancing blows, failing systems and venting atmosphere. By the time Rence saw a second burst of metal and sparks cut their way across Cormorant One’s cockpit, the warnings about pilot heart rate and erratic inputs no longer reached his ears.

He didn’t know when the datalink with Wraith finally failed, only that the override was lifted and the one remaining enemy who hadn’t disengaged was lining up for a firing solution on the one person he had left in the world- on the wounded spaceship with more parts missing than not, desperately trying to maneuver with one engine and failing systems.

Trying to make sure the taller pilot would survive, at the cost of itself. The most selfless act of selfishness- for the living are those who need to carry the sorrow. Leading the nose of his fighter ahead of the Interceptor about to end Wraith’s tale, a man at the heart of a storm shouted ‘No’.

Weapon mounts shuddered while the machine compensated for the violent forces trying to steer its pilot’s aim off course. Autocannons, machineguns and missiles sang in fury- a payload intended for an entire mission, depleted in a couple of seconds.

“Rence?” The voice on the radio was pained, much like the signal itself. So many warning chimes coloured the background of the audio transmission, the brown-haired man couldn’t even tell them apart. “I guess long and midrange comms went out.”

Etel tried his best to focus on the screens lining the walls around his body, finding it more difficult than it should be. Whether because of the fact most were broken, his vision was slowly failing, or the mixture of black and red fluid covering them, he couldn’t quite tell.

Probably a mix of all three.

“Oh. A lot of things are out.” A shaking finger flipped through options until its owner could finally hear something.

“Cormorant One, do you copy? Wraith? Etel, answer me!” He could almost see the other man’s frantic face when Fang entered formation off his left wing- metaphorically, of course. There were several layers of ceramic and steel separating the two enclosed cockpits.

That, and he didn’t have much of a left wing anymore.

“Hey big dummy. Are you alright?” An unbidden smile came to his features, silver hair matted in red clinging to the seat while his head turned weakly to the side.

“Am I-” Utter disbelief stopped the response temporarily. “Yes! What’s your status!?” The sheer desperation in his lover’s voice hurt to hear.

“I’m- I’ll be alright.” Rence was safe. Everything would be fine. “I’ll be slaving-” his voice shivered in addition to being barely above a whisper. “-Wraith to you. I’m cold. I think enviro is down.”

The wingman��s heart sank further at the reestablished datalink.

WRAITH -> FANG

AUTOMATIC FORMATION ENABLED

EMERGENCY MEDICAL ATTENTION REQUIRED

EMERGENCY MAINTENANCE REQUIRED

PILOT INPUT REQUIRED - NO DATA

The incessant chimes of the combined alarms that would haunt his soul for the rest of its days echoed through the silence, joined only by the distant sound of the largest, and last, battle of the war fading behind the two.

“Rence, get us-” Etel’s voice faded for a second. “-get us home, alright?”

“I will.” Cormorant Two wiped his eyes, leading the stricken craft as fast as he would dare without risking it to fall completely apart. The only response he got to any further comms attempt were the deafening alarms of Wraith’s systems.

The flight back to base was the longest he’d ever had. Too long, a voice inside him said. He shut it down by focusing further on the gentlest slope down into Pascia’s atmosphere that his hurry would allow, keeping a close eye on the other craft which struggled to maintain control, the onboard computer doing its best to fly with the mangled remains of control surfaces.

“Pascia Tower, Cormorant Two. I am declaring an emergency. I have Cormorant One’s craft with me, we need a clean runway and emergency vehicles for landing.” He never thought about one day remembering those procedures- they were Etel’s job after all. Yet they came to his mind as fresh as the day he’d learnt them.

“Fang, Pascia Tower. We were wondering what the other radar contact with you was- but all our strips are full. Go around, I repeat, go around and hold pattern.” Rence’s teeth clenched in anger.

“Pascia Tower, Cormorant One needs immediate medical attention. We will be landing on first approach. Clear a runway or I’ll pick one to crash into.”

“Damnit.” The ATC operator stood up from his chair, trying to see which one was the least full with damaged spacecraft in one form or another. The entire airbase resembled an emergency field hospital more than anything else.

Rence grimaced at the grisly sight after finally dipping under the everpresent cloud cover- damaged or destroyed crafts as far as the eye could see, including several in flames which seemed unperturbed by either the rain or the efforts from the fire crews.

“Fang, Pascia Tower. 21 is the best we can do right now. Good luck.”

Lining up for the landing attempt, he could see several other fighters being hurriedly moved into the barren dirt, either by engine power or just human desperation.

It was still a shorter length than he’d like, but it’d have to do.

A harsh flare-up of the nose and full reverse thrust got his spacecraft onto the ground just after the warning lights, the landing gear groaning in protest but holding. He looked back at Wraith doing its best to emulate the maneuver, tyres hitting the wet tarmac with more force than they were ever designed for.

And the entire frame of the machine finally failing.

A shower of sparks defied the film of water that perpetually covered every surface, following the main cockpit and reactor shell while they slid their way down the runway, debris bouncing off of Fang’s shields. Rence disengaged the brakes, letting his ship roll along with the remains of what was once a proud electronic warfare fighter-

-Hoping against hope he could still find Etel inside.

His boots hit the dark surface before either machine had fully stopped moving, climbing atop the broken form of Wraith and yanking the external emergency canopy ejection handle. Before the smoke from the explosive bolts cleared, the taller pilot had leaned inside.

A part of him wished he hadn’t.

“Etel? Etel!?” His hoarse pleas fell on deaf ears against the bloodied, unmoving body inside the cockpit. A pair of fingers against the side of a slender neck confirmed his fears. Before he could start any attempt at CPR, a warbled electronic tone caught his attention.

Only two screens inside the cockpit still worked, presumably off the emergency power supply on the main shell. One had a simple but darkly appropriate message.

E.O.L._

But the other seemed to be desperately trying to catch his attention despite intermittent failures.

WRAITH -> Lt. Rence

CORE BREACH IMMINENT

EJECTION SYSTEM FAILURE

MANUAL PILOT EJECTION REQUIRED_

It took him a second to process what the dying machine was requesting, followed by frantically undoing the clasps of the harness holding Etel’s body to the seat and doing his best to carry the smaller body, slick with oil and blood.

He could see an ambulance heading towards him while he sprinted full speed away from the remains of the craft with his lover’s unconscious- just unconscious. Nothing else.- body in his arms.

“CORE BREA-” A wave of heat and force stopped his shout, flinging both forms forward and into the air.

Before his vision went dark, he could feel the hard ground meeting his back with large prejudice, and a softer impact on his chest- his arms still wrapped around the other pilot.

Etel was safe. He had to be.

Good.

Goo-

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

A gasping breath and frantic eyes mark Rence’s return to consciousness. Before he could whip his head around, a soothing whisper coming from his chest took his attention.

“I’m here. I’m here, everything’s fine. I’m fine.” The smaller body laying beside him, still firmly wrapped around his arms, caressed his hair gently with a delicate hand.

“You fell asleep after relaxing when I got better.”

A long sigh escaped the taller pilot’s lips, leaning his head down to nuzzle against soft silver hair, a rougher hand carefully caressing the covers of Etel’s connection ports in his nape.

“Sorry. I should be the one helping you, not the other way around.”

The flight lead pinched the top of one of Rence’s ears in a swift movement.

“None of that, mister. We’ve been in this together in one way or another from the very start. I worry about you just as much as you worry about me.”

A small but meaningful smile coloured the brown haired man’s expression. “Fair enough.”

Etel nuzzled back happily against his lover’s chest, taking in his warmth, touch and scent. While they made his heart melt like always, a slender finger poked the other man regardless.

“And as much as I love your smell, you do need a shower.”

A moment passed in which the shorter pilot could hear loud sniffing from above his head. “Yeah, that last job did go on for a while. Coming with me?”

Purple eyes met brown ones, the perfect definition of the word ‘smug’ being encased in the synthetic orbs alone.

“Technically I don’t need to. But I suppose I can grace you with my presence, yes.” Rence rolled his eyes.

“Well excuse me, princess. Not every peasant has a self-cleaning body.” If only because they were the second most expensive variant of shells, only behind military-focused versions. Let alone a teenager type with that feature.

For perhaps understandable reasons, younger-looking synthetic bodies with the suit of options that led themselves to the more carnal type of activity were still illegal in many places, though public opinion was largely divided in more recent years. It still made the price for one of them eye-wateringly high thanks to low supply and high demand.

“We could get you one, you know. You don’t have to keep suffering for no reason.” Etel’s expression softened while Rence groaned in discomfort at the effort of getting up from the bed after enough limbs were untangled, further proving the point.

“Eh, not yet. We’re the same age, you know. I’m not some washed up old man.” He yawned, stretching his back while walking into the bathroom. The ‘boy’ followed.

“You know that’s not what I meant, your body’s just worn.” Synthetic hands indistinguishable from natural ones caressed a somewhat lean but toned body pockmarked with scars from shrapnel.

“Oh thanks. That makes me feel so much better.” Rence helped undo the clasps of Etel’s connection suit, most of his own clothing having been removed the moment the pair had entered the cheap but homely suite.

Body warmth and touch was one of the few things that helped deal with the silver haired pilot’s spikes of PTSD, rooted in the endless, penetrating feeling of cold he’d experienced before dying. The fact that his brain was able to be recovered at all after almost an hour without blood flow with only minor damage was almost miraculous, even with interstellar-age medical science.

The radiation burns, overpressure damage and puncture wounds that Rence had suffered in the core breach event, at least, were mostly healable without lingering effects.

Mostly.

“You’re just scared of the operation.” Etel’s unfairly beautiful face pouted, poking the taller man in the chest.

“It’s not exactly getting your ears pierced, you know. It’d take me months to get back up to speed. It took you more than a year to get that shell adjusted just right. And still-” His voice trailed off, a mix of consternation and concern colouring masculine, but refined, features.

The expression of the shorter member of the duo softened, a look of regret and pity that could bring the most unemotional of creatures to a halt, caressing the side of Rence’s face softly.

“You know the problem isn’t with the shell, love.”

His fellow pilot sighed, wrapping his arms around the smaller form. “I know. But wanting to help you more and not being able to makes me feel so-”

“Like I always say, you already help. If it makes you feel better, I can look for another doctor next time we’re in a major hub. Is that better?”

That would make it the twelfth doctor ever since they left the military.

“I- Yeah. Sorry I keep bothering you about it.” Etel stopped his bout of guilt with a kiss, caressing Rence’s tongue with his gently while their lips were locked together.

A flick of the foot sent their clothes back in the general direction of the bed, before turning on the shower and enjoying his lover’s jolt of surprise at the initial stream of cold water before the heating element did its job.

“No need to say sorry, you silly. You bother me because you worry, you worry because you care.”

The silver haired ‘teenager’ poked his partner in the chest, looking up at his face with a smile.

“And you care because you love me.”

Said partner couldn’t help but smile back, warm water cascading down his messy hair. “You make it pretty easy.”

“Oh, I know. I’m just that irresistible.”

Rougher hands wrapped themselves around Etel’s body when he turned around to close the shower box, pulling him back gently against Rence while the taller man nuzzled into the side of his neck, his slim but soft mechanical body following the instincts of the biological brain controlling it to lean back further into the touch, long eyelids fluttering closed over purple eyes.

“I love you. Please never leave me.” The whisper held such few words, but carried so much meaning from the very depths of the wingman’s being - the shorter of the pair, still melting under the sensation of the embrace and caresses, knew that.

The haunted look he could see in the deceptively warm brown orbs of the taller man every single time he felt him awake in a cold sweat proved just how deep their connection went.

“I love you too, Rence. I promise I’m never going away again.” Etel tilted his head up and to the side, their mouths connecting once more. The flight lead smiled faintly into the kiss while he felt his lover’s body slowly relax against his back, the arms around him showing no sign of letting go.

To the disappointment of both, the notification that they’d used 20% of their allocated daily water chimed just after hands had begun roaming around sensitive places and desire had joined love in the mixture of the kiss.

Through great willpower, the silver haired pilot managed to disentangle himself from his lover’s advances, even though it hurt his soul to do so. “Lat- later, later.” He turned around, grabbing the sponge from the recession in the wall and smacking Rence in the face with it playfully. “Shower first, sex later you horndog. Even if I have to scrub you myself.”

A muffled sigh of disappointment could be heard behind the cleaning implement, followed by an equally muffled whine.

Despite their best efforts- or Etel’s, at least -further kisses, embraces and caresses did inevitably take place. Perhaps to be expected, as it had been the case with every shower they’d taken together as lovers to one degree or another. By the time the water allotment ran out, Rence was softly running his fingers along silver hair.

Hair that was slowly moving back and forth given that its owner was currently kneeled in front of him, letting out rather indecent moans- muffled as they were thanks to the taller of the pair’s member filling the mouth they were coming from.

In all fairness, they had managed to finish a thorough shower first. Just.

Not that Etel was thinking about that at the moment. Rather, higher thought processes weren’t really present in general- not when he had Rence’s heat and taste filling his mouth, combined with the scent of the man he loved, clean and pure.

Having his hair petted while doing so only served to send him further into the realm of base instincts, letting his feelings be translated through the pleasure he was giving.

Not that he didn’t enjoy it himself.

Much the opposite, the firm heat sliding against his lips, tongue and throat; the knowledge that it was Rence’s length that was taking him in that way, the reassuring sensation of his lover’s hands on him, they all combined into gentle but constant waves of pleasure running down his body.

The clipped moans he could hear from above whenever his lips wrapped themselves around the base of the shaft certainly didn’t hurt either. It was one of the several things his shell allowed him to do that his original body couldn’t quite handle despite repeated attempts.

The combination of no gag reflex and secondary air intakes made for a very useful party trick.

“Etel, if you keep going-” Rence’s attempt at gently nudging the shorter pilot’s shoulder back was interrupted by a synthetic hand grabbing his firmly and holding it, and a further increase in the intensity of the act.

“I know. Gimme.” Through auxiliary speakers or not, the pleading whisper from the one person he loved the most only served to hasten his peak, the heat that’d built up behind his length flowing forward in bursts and being happily swallowed, the shaking of his body and gasps of breath happening in time with them.

A flurry of kisses followed, the taller pilot once again embracing Etel tightly- and caressing his body, one hand specifically sliding down his back before massaging his plump rear and finding the self-lubrication almost dripping from the entrance.

The silver haired ‘teenager’ held back a moan when a finger started teasing his entrance, caressing the sides slick with excitement.

A breathy whisper was able to escape their kiss, just. “I’m already pretty close, dummy. I want to keep going in bed after we towel off.”

Rence deliberately slid his finger inside, gently rubbing against the sensitive bundle of synthetic nerves he’d long since memorized the placement of for a moment, stopping his lover’s swear of pleasure with another kiss before pulling away and grabbing a towel, doing his best to feign innocence. “Fair enough.”

His smile easily betrayed the lie.

Etel’s stare could burn a hole through reinforced carbon weave- metaphorically of course. That option was not allowed in civilian shells.

However, the muscular weave necessary to give a one hundred and fifty centimeters, two hundred kilogram body normal mobility was more than enough to carefully tackle the taller man into the bed the minute they’d both towelled off most of the water- and maneuver them so said man was on top.

Rence was familiar with this song and dance by now, not needing to reorient himself before kissing his lover again, tongues caressing eachother in a feeble attempt to convey the intensity of the feelings between the two.

The pair could kiss for the rest of time, and it’d still be a pale demonstration of the undying flame their souls burned together with. A hypergolic bond refreshed every single day for near on a decade.

One might ask why not be officially married at that point, and the answer was merely that neither felt the need to- after all, marriages are until death.

They were long past such trivial difficulties.

Powerful legs ending into slender feet locked themselves around Rence’s hips, further enticing the man while a pale hand caressed the engorging length pressed between the two, gently stroking it into full attention.

The wingman had once asked why Etel kept his own member, mostly because of the strong reluctance the other part of the pair felt about it being touched at all, let alone used in any way, shape or form. After all, to change it for a female type would be trivial with his new body.

“I’m not sure, honestly. It’s not like it even fully works anyway. Even if it did, it’s definitely not big enough to be of much use. I guess it’s just a part of me I don’t mind being there, and our preferred option isn’t even a hassle to prepare anymore.” A familiar grin coloured his features at the mention of the benefits a synthetic shell provided.

It was one of the many quirks of the smaller person that he’d simply accepted. They were more than worth it, after all.

That, and Rence was pretty sure the little minx just really, really liked their ‘preferred option’.

A notion that was further proved with the way the flight leader downright purred in anticipation the moment his entrance was touched by his lover’s length, the blunt tip spreading it open thanks to the plentiful lubrication counteracting just how tight the silver haired ‘teen’ always was.

Striking purple eyes gazed lovingly at Rence through halfway-closed eyelids, hints of perspiration- unnecessary as it was -covering flawless skin painstakingly customized to recreate the original body his beloved inhabited.

The taller pilot, for the umpteeth time, thanked every possible god that might exist for just how lucky he got to not have his little demon ripped away from him.

‘Angel’ wasn’t quite the right word after all.

Willpower fought the instinct to close his eyes at the sensation of Etel’s tight folds slowly swallowing his shaft when he carefully pressed their bodies closed together, all for the chance to watch his lover’s reaction.

The way those beautiful violet orbs rolled back, the way he gripped whatever was available- most of the time that being Rence’s hair, a feeling he simply adored -to try and handle the sensation while his back arched, even the way a breathless moan was often coupled with an expletive.

It was all quintessentially Etel, and there was no force in the universe that could stop Rence from showering his shorter partner with growling kisses in a desperate attempt to convey what he was already saying between them.

“I love you. So fucking much.”

Said beloved smiled while the words sent shivers down his spine, mixing with the electric waves spreading from his insides thanks to the deliciously hot and thick member filling them. The moment when he could feel his lover all the way inside him just before either began moving was perhaps his favourite, for one main reason.

He could feel Rence’s warmth and heartbeat. Around him, inside him, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. Much the opposite.

He had the love of his life happily giving him all the intimacy he possibly could, every time he possibly could. The life they’d led wasn’t easy, but this-

This made it worth it a thousand times over.

“I love you to-” his response was interrupted by a mix of whimper and moan rising in pitch thanks to the combined waves of pleasure spreading around his body- coming from his insides due to his lover having started to move, deliberately angling their bodies to make the tip of his length rub against the most sensitive spot Etel had.

The other point of origin was his chest, thanks to Rence happily caressing one of his nipples with his tongue while sucking it, and using a free hand to play with the other.

“Come on, all my weak points at once-” His whining was met with a stronger thrust, paired with a stronger suction and harsher flicking of the tongue. More than enough to force another moan out of him. “Godsdamned cheater.”

He simply got another passionate kiss for it, with the taller pilot sneaking a hand behind one of his shoulders to hold him close while continuing to thrust inside.

The smaller body instinctively wrapped around his lover, hanging onto the man with legs and arms both, needing to be with him as much as humanly possible.

Etel melted under Rence further while the waves of pleasure got more and more intense, manmade muscle fibers twitching in the overload of the sensors.

Sensors purposely set by their owner to near maximum gain to reflect the way his original body wasn’t yet experienced enough to have the whole ordeal be anything less than overwhelming the few times it had the chance to do it.

“Rence-” Etel’s gasping voice, coloured by the sensation of his body melting in pleasure, repeated the name without stop- a mantra to deal with just how strong the sensation was, of his body peaking while feeling his lover all around and inside him.

As close and intimate as they could physically get, two souls seeking eachother, to become whole.

Even under the onslaught of physical signals, the shorter pilot’s heart fluttered when Rence slowed down somewhat while holding him back just as tight. Sacrificing his own pleasure just so Etel could enjoy his own climax more, fall even deeper in love.

If that was even possible.

The flight lead had no idea how much time had passed filled with breathless, shaky moans accompanied by a shivering body until his lover kissed him deeply again, deeper tones joining his song before liquid heat coated his oversensitive insides.

Every bit of instinct left in his mind ordered shaking limbs to further lock around Rence, to not let him go. To never, ever let him go.

To simply bask in the warm, messy wetness and sweaty ball of hormones that the remains of Cormorant Squadron were at the moment.

Not that he had much of an option, considering the taller man was clinging to him just as tightly. Etel wouldn’t have it any other way.

The continuous kiss was only broken by his wingman nuzzling into the crook of the neck where silver hair came to a stop, three words being repeated once more yet not losing any of their power.

“I love you.”

Shivers of pleasure instead of anguish still emanated from his core at random intervals, but not enough to stop Etel from caressing Rence’s hair gently, coddling the man with all the affection of a newlywed bride.

Maybe the flight lead would decide to be one someday, who knew. But for now, the relaxed smile while the two settled into a position more conducive to long-term comfort was physically unable to waver during his answer.

“I love you too, Rence.”

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

Strange wildlife cried in greeting of the rising sun, shrill tones emanated from odd, small lizard-like creatures breaking the peaceful silence of early day. One weary eyelid cracked open, protesting the rays slowly but inexorably marching their path across the two forms tangled in bed.

“Morning, hon. Slept well?” Etel’s light, melodic voice came from the body the taller pilot currently held close to him, both laying on their sides. Rence couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t slept with his lover’s back glued to his form, the one fit they’d settled in early on simply because it just felt right.

A groan slowly morphed into actual words, vocal chords as worn as the rest of his body taking a while to kick into gear. “Mm- yeah. Did you?”

He knew that brains placed into full-body shells didn’t have- nor could even achieve -the same type of rest normal humans had, but they still underwent a sort of ‘preventative maintenance’ to fulfill many of the same tasks.

Deleting useless information, organizing useful data, resetting chemical balance.

But androids did not, in fact, dream of electric sheep.

Still, Etel used the time to practice a sort of self-reflection and meditation. That and watching shows on the extranet- after all, there is only so much mental self-care one can do every day for several hours while being held tight against a snoring man.

Gods be praised for AI-powered noise removal of audio inputs.

“Yeah, my night was nice.” Carefully crafted synthetic fingers caressed the rougher hand wrapped around a slim midsection and chest. “Also, you got a message a few hours ago.”

Brown eyes slowly focused on the desk nearby, the blinking light of his wrist device giving merit to the claim. A sigh followed.

“Who the hells messaged me in the middle of the gorramn dawn?” Stiff muscles stretched themselves under electrical orders from a brain protesting having to reach wakefulness, before curling themselves around the shorter pilot again.

Bright orange dots of plasma hovered in the air in front of Etel, tridimensional pixels being created by the laser emitters in his wrist. Rence had long since given up on trying to stop his partner from invading his personal messaging system.

Or any other system for that matter.

Etel chuckled airily at the small huff coming from behind his head, a mix of fondness and incredulity at the specific sender having kept in contact for so long.

FANG -> PILOT

REQUEST STATUS REPORT

REQUEST Flt.Lead Etel STATUS REPORT

TEMP. PILOT UNSATISFACTORY_

Rence couldn’t help but smile at the sheer stubbornness of the Combat Intelligence. This was its eight ‘temporary pilot’ after the couple had left the military already.

The previous seven had also been deemed unsatisfactory.

“We also need to refuel-” The silver haired lover brought up a list in the holographic projection. It looked far too long for Cormorant Two’s tastes, so he simply groaned and hid his face in said locks of silky synthetic strands.

“- rearm-” Etel continued. Rence groaned more.

“- run maintenance checks-” The taller member of the pair whined in protest. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? We have four days.”

Cormorant One turned his head around as much as he could while still tangled in his partner’s limbs. It wasn’t much, but it served to convey his stance on the matter.

“And if we find any issues, we’ll need these extra days to deal with them. Never do tomorrow what you can do today.”

“I hate you.” The response lacked any of the venom or hurt such words would be expected to. Both knew why.

“No you don’t.” Etel grinned, teasing.

“No, but I can pretend I do.” Rence pouted in response.

“No you can’t.” Etel grinned wider.

“Gods, you’re insufferable.” Yet the wingman smiled.

“That I am. And you love me anyway.”

An annoyed yet amused face confronted an impossibly smug one. Neither mattered once their lips touched, parted by tongues seeking contact for the millionth time, to be followed by a million more.

#fiction #science fiction #short story #mxm #transhumanism #space opera #mature

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daybreak-academy-fanfic · 4 years

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Daybreak Academy: Chapter 14

My Crush Lives Next Door

Summary: In which Strelitzia finds out that she and Anora are dorm neighbors. Word Count: 1,341 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

Strelitzia was starting to become bolder. She didn't quite notice it at first, but when she willingly raised her hand to answer a question in history class, that was the moment she came to realize she was changing. Of course she would cite her decision to start giving Anora (oh, what a sweet name) small notes. It was something she started to do after Valentines, and she didn't too it too often- she was still too scared to make it a daily routine.

A smile crept on Strelitzia's lips every time she thought of Anora. Of all things, just the name led to several butterflies fluttering around her stomach. They had yet to actually tell each other's names through the notes, but Anora was very clear when she introduced herself to Chirithy. Strelitzia's lips formed a smile. Anora- what a beautiful name. She could repeat it forever. Anora, Anora, Anora…

'What is your favorite movie? I really like The Rescuers.'

'Definitely Pocahontas. I can belt out the lyrics to Just Around the Riverbend like no one's business.'

A genuine laugh escaped her lips when she read that. This was how most of their notes went as February went by.

'What's your favorite color? I like a cream-like white.'

'I don't really have one. Maybe blue?'

'Blue is a pretty color! Especially light blue. I like the shade of blue in some bird of paradise flowers.'

'Do you like bird of paradise flowers? I kinda like bluebells more, mostly because they're blue.'

'I'm not sure if I do or not. (I like a whole lot of flowers.) But I was named after them!'

That was the note that led Strelitzia to fear that Anora would start to ask for her name. She never did, though. Instead, Anora's note back to Strelitzia had been a request.

'I'm taking a test today. Keep your fingers crossed!'

One day, Strelitzia would actually show herself to Anora so she could have given her encouragement in person. Instead, she had to wait a full day, and by then any encouragement would have been rendered moot. It worked for what it was worth- her heart still not brave enough to face Anora in person.

It was the first Monday in March that Strelitzia dared to ask a controversial question.

'What house are you in?'

From her hiding place, she could see as Anora read the note and a small look of conflict crossed her face. It took the strawberry-pink haired girl with beautifully tanned skin and emerald green eyes awhile to give her reply. Strelitzia's heart leaped into her throat when she read the response.

'Vulpes. Sixth Year.'

Vulpes? Anora was in Vulpes?! But that meant… That meant Anora would also be housed in the female Vulpes dorms. Had they really been living under the same roof this entire time?!

“You mean you and your friend live in the same dorm, and you've never noticed?” Lauriam repeated once Strelitzia told her brother the situation. Strelitzia looked down into her tea cup -filled with rose tea, of course- and gave a small nod. She was starting to regret telling her brother, but she needed to tell someone.

“I haven't asked what floor she's on yet,” she admitted, gripping her teacup tighter, “But… I afraid to.”

Lauriam took a deliberate sip of his tea before thoughtfully inquiring, “Why?”

For this, Strelitzia did not have an answer. As much as she found herself becoming braver, there was still something about Anora that made her freeze in her tracks.

“You'll find a way.” Lauriam then told her. “I believe in you to do what your heart feels is right.”

Strelitzia looked up at her brother, a small look of bewilderment on her face before it melted away into a bright smile. She could have never asked for a better brother. While the two were not as close since he started school ahead of her, he was still there to lend a listening ear. He didn't ask much of what Strelitzia knew of Anora, he didn't even ask for her name or appearance, but he did know that she was important. And, in a way, that's all she could have asked from him.

. . .

She didn't know who to thank for the study area next to the dorm's main entrance, but Strelitzia was praising them all the same. From here, she could watch every girl that came through the doors. This was where she planned on seeing Anora. Although, once Strelitzia was able to confirm Anora was there, she didn't quite know what she'd do next. For now Strelitzia's alibi was to pretend to read. Fairy tales just didn't seem as appealing knowing that she was going to see Anora- odd as it sounded.

It was close to seven in the afternoon when Anora came through the door. It then proceeded to take all it had in Strelitzia not to slam the book down to rush on over to her. Instead, she purposefully closed the book, tucked it under her arm, and then started to follow Anora as (she assumed) she headed to her room.

Anora casually strolled past the elevators to take the stairs. This gave Strelitzia the hope that Anora was on one of the lower floors; but Anora only kept climbing the stairs. It was around the time they reached the fourth floor that Anora realized she was being followed- Strelitzia could see a part of Anora tense with each step she took.

As Anora reached the entrance for the sixth floor, Strelitzia almost stopped dead in her tracks. This was the same floor that her room was on. There was no way… What would the odds even be…?

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Strelitzia nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Anora's voice, far closer than what it normally had been. She looked up and realized that Anora had decided to turn around. The strawberry-haired girl looked over the carrot-red haired girl with some suspicion. Strelitzia couldn't blame her. Nervously, Strelitzia started to point to a door near the end of the hallway.

“I was just going to my room.” she said- her voice shaking as she said it. Anora gave Strelitzia a funny look before she turned to where she was pointing.

“Really?” she asked, looking back at Strelitzia. A small nod became her answer.

“I… I think our rooms are next to each other.” Strelitzia admitted in a quiet voice. Anora was still giving her a very suspicious glance. With nothing else to say to each other, Anora turned around again and started to go to her room.

Before she completely entered her room, Anora looked back at Strelitzia one more time, looked as if she wanted to say something, but thought better of it as she closed the door behind her. As Strelitzia started to her room, her knees started to become less secure with each step she took. Each step only confirmed the new truth she had discovered. When Strelitzia entered her room and firmly shut the door behind her, she almost felt like her heart was going to burst.

Strelitzia went to her bed to pick up Chirithy. Her vision swimming as her head felt like it was stuck on a perpetual merry-go-round that refused to stop. In a whisper, Strelitzia said to Chirithy, “She's right next door. Anora… Anora sleeps in the room right next to mine.” Then she pulled the stuffed creature to her chest like her life depended on it. She felt dizzy enough that maybe it wasn't too far from the truth.

The girl looked at the wall that separated Anora's room from hers. She wondered what Anora was doing right now. Was she talking to her Chirithy too? Was she telling it about the weird girl that followed her through the dorms? And when a certain thought crossed Strelitzia's mind, her face quickly flushed as she hid it in Chirithy's soft body.

This just made things so, so much more complicated.

#daybreak academy #chapter 14 #kingdom hearts fanfiction #Strelitzia #Anora #Lauriam #Season 1

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lefaystrent · 5 years

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Down by the Pier

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairing: Moxiety, featuring human!Patton / merman!Virgil

Summary: Patton lives by the ocean. He likes to go sit out on the pier because the view is sweet but the company is even sweeter.

AO3 Link

The ocean breeze swept over Patton as he walked down the pier. It was a private pier back behind his beach house, so no one but him was around. The sun hung close to the sea as it did most days when Patton made time to stroll down the wood planks and plop himself down at the end. There were no clouds in the sky, just a ball of sunshine and the rays dancing mesmerizingly across the waves.

A dark head of hair rose out of the water nearby followed by an equally dark set of eyes. The eyes blinked at Patton.

Patton grinned from ear to ear. ��Hey there, Virgil! Got any cool thingamajigs for me today?” By this point, the question was moot. Virgil always had something to show him nowadays.

The dark eyes brightened and he sank quickly down, the action followed by a brief flip of a large purple fin breaking the surface before disappearing. Patton didn’t have to wait long.

Virgil emerged once more, this time rising far enough to show his torso. It took many weeks of coaxing from Patton to get Virgil to even show his full face when they first met. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly embarrassed or overwhelmed, he still hid the bottom part of his face. Patton got the feeling he was self-conscious, seeing as his features weren’t exactly human, what with his slightly flat nose and too-wide mouth full of sharp teeth. Even when he half-hid his face like that though, his pointy ears could still be seen and Patton loved to see them flick this way and that.

In Virgil’s hand was a lump of material. He reached up with his free hand to grip the pier and pull himself up higher in order to hand it to Patton. This too was a sign of progress. When Virgil had eventually begun bringing him little gifts, he would leave them out on the pier before Patton even arrived. Patton would find pretty stones or other interesting things that had fell into the ocean waiting there for him. It was only after Patton picked them up and sat down that Virgil would show himself.

Patton took a moment to marvel at how Virgil had overcome most of his skittishness. Here he was, brave enough to finally hand things to him. Patton accepted the gift and smoothed it out to examine.

He laughed, “It’s a glove!” It was soggy and salt encrusted and Patton absolutely loved it.

Virgil hung from the edge of the peer by webbed fingers, giving a subdued chirp. He couldn’t talk exactly, his body built for the water. The closest sounds he could make reminded Patton of dolphins. That’s why Patton had to watch his face more to interpret what he meant. Luckily Virgil was very expressive.

“Yeah, I love it,” Patton confirmed. “Do you know what it’s for?”

Virgil’s knowledge of land-dwelling society was sketchy at best, but he was a smart cookie. He furrowed his brows in question while holding up his hand.

“Yeah! That’s right, kiddo!” Patton beamed, proud. “People wear them on their hands. They usually come in sets of two, for both hands. They help when it gets cold, or when you need to work with your hands, they protect them. This glove looks more like a work glove, judging from the material. See?”

Virgil watched him with wide eyes, completely enraptured to learn more about human life. From this close, Patton could see the purple tint to his eyes. They were somehow shinier than a human’s, if that made sense. It did in Patton’s head anyway.

Most of their afternoons passed like this, Virgil bringing things he’d find in the ocean and listening to Patton tell him all about them. Of course, they talked about a lot more than that. Virgil could get rather insistent, sometimes nudging Patton’s leg pointedly until he chuckled and told Virgil about his daily life. It wasn’t too different than other people’s lives, just him going to work five days out of seven a week, but Patton supposed they were almost like fairytales to someone like Virgil who had never seen such a world.

One day Patton got the idea to bring a friend to meet Virgil. If Virgil couldn’t come up onto the land and experience human life for himself, Patton would bring human life to him! Well, a single human life. And one that he trusted very well! Patton might be considered silly in some areas, but he wouldn’t endanger Virgil by bringing just anyone.

“And you’re sure he’s an actual merman? Not just some dedicated cosplayer?” Roman was asking him for the seventeenth time as they arrived at Patton’s house.

Roman was a long-time friend and coworker of Patton’s, and today Patton had opened up and asked Roman to come meet his merfriend. If anyone would believe mythical creatures existed and not freak out (in a bad way anyway), it would be Roman. Roman who was too loyal and chivalrous to turn around and out Virgil’s existence to the world.

Rather than be annoyed by Roman’s constant questioning, Patton only became more excited. “He really is! He’s such a sweetheart too! Always bringing me stuff he finds in the ocean and wanting me to tell him stories.”

Roman shut the passenger’s side door with a frown, but there was an undeniable sheen of curiosity in his eyes. “Perhaps he’s bargaining with you then? Giving you treasures for stories?”

Patton laughed and came around to the front of the car. “No, it’s not really like that. He’s given me a few things, but most of the time he just wants to share his things with me. He’s kinda protective of them.” It reminded Patton of a little kid wanting to show off their cool toys. Every time he’d show Patton something and hear all about it, Patton would give the item back and Virgil would look at it as if the value had somehow increased dramatically.

“And you said his name was Virgil?” Roman continued to question, letting himself be led around Patton’s house. “Odd name for a merfolk. How do you even know it? I thought you said he couldn’t actually talk.”

“Oh, it was the cutest thing, Ro! I came down to the pier one day and there were these little shells left there that spelled out his name!”

“He knows how to write?”

“Well I don’t think the shells would have lined themselves up out of the goodness in their hearts. They can be kind of shellfish.”

Roman shook his head but smiled a little. “If this fish man truly exists, then he must have had someone teach him. Is it only him or has the merfolk as a society been taught? Wait a hot epiphany moment!” He stopped in his tracks, grabbing Patton by the shoulder and staring at him intensely. “Does this mean Atlantis exists?”

Patton shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. Guess you’ll get to ask him in a minute.”

They walked down the sturdy wooden planks. Roman looked all around them in the water, trying to keep a stern, skeptical face but Patton could tell he was jittery with excitement. They sat down at the end of the pier where Patton always sat.

And they waited . . .

“How do you summon him?” Roman asked, glancing around Patton as if he had a special conch shell or something.

“Usually I just sit here a minute and he pops up. Although I didn’t tell him I’d be bringing company today, so he might be shy . . .” It was a rather spur of the moment kind of thing, to tell Roman and bring him out. Maybe in hindsight he should have considered Virgil’s feelings more and asked beforehand.

“Well, it has already been two minutes so he is doubly late,” Roman declared. He sat there, arms and legs crossed, and leaned a little to the side to stare into the water. “Doesn’t he know it’s rude to keep a guest waiting?”

“Now, now Roman. You catch more flies with honey,” Patton said cheerfully. He cupped his mouth and called out. “Virgil! Kiddo! Won’t you come out to visit so I can introduce you to my friend Roman! I told him how cool you are and he’d love to meet you.”

“I suppose he is too intimidated to face me,” Roman said understandingly. “It’s alright, little water-ling, I too am sometimes overcome when I see that handsome fellow in the mirror.”

They waited a few minutes more, Patton trying to convince Virgil to come out of wherever he was hiding and Roman growing more skeptical. As time dragged on, disappointment settled heavy in Patton’s chest.

“He really does exist,” he muttered, mopey.

Roman sighed. “I too like to believe in the idea of magic and fairytales, but maybe this time you should ask yourself if perhaps you only thought you saw—”

Patton cut him off. “No! I didn’t just imagine him! We’ve been hanging out for months! I’ve seen his tail and scales and they’re pretty!”

“Well then why isn’t he here?” Roman asked, gesturing to the endless ocean. “We’ve been waiting half an hour now.”

“He’s probably just shy.”

Roman shook his head. “Look Patton, is there a real reason you brought me out here?”

Taken aback, Patton faltered. “I . . . what?”

“If you need to talk to me about something, or if you simply wanted to hang out with me, you can always tell me upfront.”

Roman was misunderstanding. Patton couldn’t help but get frustrated. “But I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I’m not trying to accuse you of anything,” Roman assured, and honestly his tone didn’t sound confrontational. He really was trying to understand Patton. “It’s just that you tell me you’ve been talking to a merman for months and bring me to meet him, and when we’re here he doesn’t show.”

“We just need to wait a little longer,” Patton said quickly, more than a little desperate.

Roman heaved a tired sigh. “Patton, you know I care about you.”

He would have continued but Patton protested weakly. “He does exist. He’s my friend.”

In all the ways Patton thought today would go, he didn’t imagine Roman to not believe him and go so far as to think he fabricated the whole thing. Roman was a great friend, but so was Virgil, and Patton had only wanted for them to meet. Why couldn’t Roman see that? Why didn’t . . .

Why did Roman not trust him?

Patton realized a little too late that the hurt he felt manifested physically. Tears brimmed in his eyes and Roman wilted at the sight.

“Come now, Pat,” Roman tried and lifted a hand towards him. The hand never made it.

A fish came flying out of the ocean and smacked Roman in the face.

Patton flinched back, completely forgetting their conversation to gawk in bewilderment. Roman startled so badly that he scrambled back on his knees, gaping at the fish that now flopped against the floor of the pier.

“What the heckity heck?” Roman asked right before he was assaulted by another fish. He squawked and jumped to his feet, pointing down at the water from wince the fish was launched from. “How dare you?! Show yourself, whoever you are, you coward!”

Yards away, a familiar dark head rose from the ocean’s depths. Patton gasped in excitement but Roman had a far different reaction. He continued to point threateningly at his attacker.

“Who do you think you are? Throwing fish! Who even does that?” Roman asked, scandalized. “Rude people do, and you sir are a rude dude.”

Virgil lifted his face fully out of the water, baring his fangs for the world to see, and hissed. It wasn’t a cute kitty hiss either. It was pretty spooky actually.

Roman shrieked into the highest octave possible and dove behind Patton. He gripped onto Patton’s shoulders tightly, only making Virgil hiss all the more.

“Holy mother of Julie Andrews, what is that demon?!” Roman demanded. “Patton, we need to get out of here!”

“That’s Virgil!” Patton cheered in excitement. He waved enthusiastically at his favorite merman, calming him somewhat. He stopped hissing at least.

“You’ll need to move,” Roman carried on rambling, not listening to Patton and trying to tug him to run. “It’s alright, a beach house should be pretty easy to sell. Just leave out in the description that there are water demons inhabiting the backyard.”

“Roman!” Patton yelled over him. To get his attention, he pulled Roman’s hands together and held them between his. He smiled a slightly exasperated, yet no less happy smile. “I don’t need to move. This is Virgil! The merman I told you about. It’s alright, he won’t hurt you.”

“Patton, he threw fish at me. At me!”

“Well I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

Virgil readied another fish.

As Roman ducked behind Patton again, Patton couldn’t help but laugh. Not at Roman being scared, but in relief.

Virgil was here now. He could salvage this day after all.

It took some time, but Patton managed to get Virgil to stop throwing fish and Roman to stop hiding behind him. Virgil dipped down into the water where only his eyes showed, clearly displeased with Roman’s presence with the way he still glared at him. But the important part was that Virgil didn’t run away. He almost seemed . . .

Awwww, it was like he was trying to protect Patton! He must have been watching them talk earlier and seen how upset Patton got, so he targeted Roman with the fish, the source of his distress.

“Thanks for coming out. I really appreciate it,” Patton told him, putting every ounce of gratitude he could in his words. Virgil, for his part, just glanced away and blew bubbles in the water.

They talked for a while after that, mostly Patton telling them about each other. It was so much fun to have his friends together, all of them hanging out! It was off to a slippery start, but Patton was sure they would become friends in no time.

“Is the great city of Atlantis real?” Roman demanded.

Virgil’s eyes squinted in confusion.

“Does Ariel still live?”

Virgil didn’t understand but rolled his eyes at Roman nonetheless, which Roman took as confirmation somehow.

They lingered until dark when it grew too late for Roman to stay. Patton drove him back into the city proper so he could go home, since Roman didn’t own a vehicle.

The next day, Patton returned to the pier once more, this time by himself. Virgil seemed really happy about that, because instead of handing Patton one of his ocean floor finds, he crossed his arms over Patton’s lap and laid his head down.

Patton was beside himself. Virgil didn’t usually like to be touched or show affection. He didn’t want to overwhelm the merman by touching him too much, but Virgil looked completely content where he was, and Patton couldn’t help himself. He sifted his fingers through Virgil’s hair, marveling at how strong and coarse the locks felt. With his other hand, he traced down the scales of Virgil’s bare back.

Virgil’s tail flopped around in the water, much like how dogs wag their tails.

“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing ever!” Patton exclaimed, and acting on instinct he dove down and planted a kiss on top of Virgil’s head.

Virgil stilled completely. He hung there, so stiff that Patton froze himself. Just as Patton was about to apologize, Virgil nudged forward until Patton was forced to part his legs to give him more room. Virgil wrapped his arms around Patton’s torso and buried his face into his stomach. And yeah, Patton’s shirt and pants were getting wet, but he couldn’t care less as Virgil’s tail waved through the water like crazy.

Patton grinned and held him close. “Love you too, Virge.”

#sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #writing #fanfiction #fluff #merman #it's two in the morning #what am I doing #down by the pier

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