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thera-daydreams · 3 years

Text

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie

#trese #trese 2021 #trese netflix #maliksi #maliksi x reader #tikbalang #trese fic #x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both. The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

#creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #brain thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #reader insert #no clue if I'm reaching a wider audience than AO3 but I'll try this out #Crossposted #as of now 13 chapters are over on AO3 if you wanted to read #other wise I'll post a chapter every 3 days on here until I catch up with AO3 #Ao3 has priority #A cure for insomnia

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mochibrokenheart · 3 years

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SVSSS: Guardian of the Museum

Mobei Jun x Shang Qinghua

Word Count: 2,756

Summary: Of course there's ominous growling and destruction to the building on Shang Qinghua's first night as a museum curator. Of course there is! Besides being desperate to keep the job, he's not sure what possesses him to actually walk toward the dangerous situation. His survival instincts were better trained that! Except...wait a minute...the terrifying creature causing all the ruckus is actually the hottest thing he's ever seen???

My first contribution for Moshang Monsterfucking Month (and my first fic for the fandom in general!) Heavy on the monster part as the nsfw is not explicit. Who knew that it would be hard to write something short. Inspired by the Day 2 prompt: horny.

Also posted on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34305571

A nearby bell tolled at midnight just as Shang Qinghua locked up the museum for the night, which meant that he was officially off for the weekend. Being a party of one, he celebrated with a groovy victory dance while turning the key over in the lock.

There was a little click and he rattled the knob, checking that the door was properly locked—if anything was stolen or vandalized during the night, he would most definitely be blamed as the recent hire!

The job was an important stepping stone in his career path plan to being a rare artifacts curator. He really needed the experience. It was hard enough to land the job, so he wasn’t above looking neurotic by double, and triple, and quadruple checking everything before he left.

A chilly breeze tussled his hair and raised goosebumps down his neck. It was October, he supposed while drawing up his hood to block the chill, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to complain.

He was much to delicate for cold temperatures and would exercise his right to curse out the changing seasons. Of course, he could move somewhere further south, so that he wouldn’t have to put up with it anymore, but still!

The only good thing about the loss of summer was the bugs, he decided.

Clearly, Shang Qinghua was irresistible because bugs treated his blood like an all-you-can buffet. If only hot men thought the same. But alas.

Sighing, he turned up to admire the full moon, who seemed to sympathize with the sad state of his romantic affairs, being the moon and all. Something about it’s pale gray-white color naturally emoted a sad, longing reflection.

It was as he was looking up that he heard a growl, loud not because of its pitch—it was actually quite low and gravelly—but because it vibrated the very air around him.

Shit. Shit. He wasn’t equipped to deal with some beast! He had no weapons and there was no way his body was going to get the job done either. He was a delicate flower, just ask the bugs who always feasted on him!

He rummaged through his bag frantically for his phone. That was what the authorities were for.

Opening his phone, his mind was racing. Who did you call when there was a potentially wild animal on the loose? The police? Animal control?

Gasp! What if it turned out to be a demon?

…!!!

He didn’t have any shamans or priests on speed dial. There had never been a reason to until then but if it would save him, he’d buy up every type of religious necklace he could and wear them around his neck daily. It was like insurance—it never hurt to cover all of his bases.

While he was wasting time on the sidewalk, what appeared to be small bits of gravel drifted down from what seemed like the roof. Scurrying to get closer to the streetlight, which casted a circular light on the steps of the museum, Shang Qinghua bent down to get a closer look.

It felt dusty when he rubbed his pointer finger against his thumb and did match the shade of stone the building was…The new evidence presented a bit of dilemma. Yes, he was still itching to call somebody have them do the dangerous work, but at the same time, his boss might fire him if something happened to the museum under his watch.

“Well, if there’s more damage, I guess I’ll take a look,” he muttered. He clasped his hands together. “But please, take mercy on me, moon! I promise that if you get me out of this that my next erotica will be dedicated solely to you, and in very large print, so that my readers know the reach of your mystical power!”

His hands remained clasped high above his head as he waited. So far so good.

There was still the scary growls, of course, but those didn’t count because he wasn’t going to investigate that. It was absolutely common knowledge that people who investigated weird sounds always ended up dead, at least in horror movies, and that was all the proof he needed to wash his hands of it.

No, the only thing that could sway him from his crouch on the front steps was…was…

Tears shimmered in his eyes as more rubble was knocked off from the roof, the fine particles irritating his nose and causing him to sneeze.

Thoroughly betrayed, he used his sleeve to wipe at his nose. Forget the moon. Clearly the bond he felt had only been one-sided, and now he was obligated to actually suck it up and put himself in harms way.

The Shang Qinghua of five minutes ago would’ve screamed and called himself a fool. Why ignore those highly honed flight instincts?! Even the Shang Qinghua of the present was screaming and calling himself a fool when he took the first hesitant step inside.

It was deceptively quiet in the stairwell but that wasn’t enough to calm him. As the saying went, it was the calm before the shit storm and he was about to be right in the middle of it. How careless of him.

Just in case this was the end, he started to draft an epitaph—it’s not like anyone else would put in the same amount of effort.

His minor following would be too busy wailing about the permanent book hiatus; his boss would have their hands full dealing with insurance over the architectural damage; and that hot-and-cold cucumber bro of his would still be nagging him in the afterlife, criticizing him for his stupid plan when it ‘clearly would’ve been better to do such and such’. But back to him.

We are gathered here to mourn the passing of one Shang Qinghua, a bright hamster that was taken from Earth far too soon. His exhibit work was flawless, his knack for collections cataloging unrivaled. There was never a day without bountiful office supplies with him around. We thank him for his singular brave—foolish?—sacrifice in the name of historical value. Shang Qinghua is survived by several dying houseplants and the stray dog he usually fed on his way home from work.

There. That sounded as good as he was likely to get. Wait. No. He almost left out the most important part: the secret letter of last words meant only for cucumber bro’s eyes. Bro, if you’re reading this it’s because I died a terrible and scary death. Please take pity and wipe all of my search history. It was all for research, honest! It’s bad taste to judge a dead man.

The access door to the roof was large and imposing in front of him, even though there was still no noise coming from the other side. He was going to be mad and then relieved, in that exact order, if this turned out to be nothing.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Jumped around and shook his hands where they hung down beside the length of his body. He’d watched enough athletes—for research!—throughout his short life and getting loose always seemed to pump them up for competition. The same principle should apply here.

The door gave with a loud screech and he suspected that it wasn’t in regular use. Not that there was probably much to see up there anyway. Just roosting pigeons, stone slabs, and—

His mind went blank.

Crouching in the corner, so close to the edge that all it would take was a gust of wind to send him tumbling down, was some sort of winged creature. And the wings were massive things that arched up before curving downward completely over it’s back, the tips draped on the ground. Judging by how large they were, they had to be functional, which nearly caused him to wet himself.

He didn’t want to imagine that thing taking flight after him. Not that he would be exciting prey. Gods, this probably how a mouse felt when a hawk was flying overhead.

But it was the horns that really caught his attention. They were hulking black spirals and the sharp points were pointed right at him. Even in the poor light, it was obvious that they were pure black. Any other time, he might comment on how cool they actually were, how they were a cosplayer’s dream, but it wasn’t cool when it was a matter of life and death.

And he would most certainly die if those menacing horns and wings were any indication.

Trying to keep the element of surprise, he slowly let the door swing shut. Until a little bat started flew over squeaking, which caused him to squeak as well. The door hit the frame with a loud rattle. His body went heavy with fear and his eyes snapped shut, a natural prey response. He had never, ever been this scared.

Not patient enough for Shang Qinghua to turn around on his own, the creature flung him around to face it with an aggressive growl. And he had thought it was loud when he was on the sidewalk. Which wasn’t true at all. It was much louder and more intimidating when it was right in his face.

“Trespasser!” it growled, teeth clicking.

…Okay, so it could talk. Maybe this was a good thing. Now could grovel with it to spare him!

Blinking rapidly, he opened his eyes and looked up, up, up. It didn’t look as horrific from the front as it did the back. In fact, it had a humanoid appearance and was distinctly male. He was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, a total fantasy come to life. How the hell was he real?

His was incredibly tall, his huge wings proportional to his size now that he was standing up. Now that he saw them up close, Shang Qinghua noticed that they were a beautiful shade of blue that started out dark but lightened to pale blue once it reached the tips, which also had sharp spikes—Nails? Claws? He wasn’t well versed in anatomy—attached.

The top of his ears were pointy, too, just like the tops of the wings. Oh, and the horns! There were two of them, both pure, glossy obsidian, that sprouted out on either side of his temple, the bases thick and ridged as they spiraled like a ram’s. The only difference was that his horns were much larger. He could maul someone with those along if he wasn’t careful.

But now that he considered it more—even in times of crisis, he could multi-task when it really counted—the horns only added more to his attractiveness. They were intimating, sure, but also sexy, in a monsterfucking type of way. He gasped as a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Yep, he could definitely get into the horns and claws. Mark him down as scared and horny.

The growling died down but sharp teeth were still on display, and there was a stylized tattoo-looking mark on his forehead. Despite the snarl, Shang Qinghua instinctively knew that his face was insanely attractive; it had to be to match the rest of him. Speaking of the rest of him…

He dropped down in front of him, making sure to drag his hands down that ripped physique and gave his massive pectorals a quick squeeze before he landed on his knees in a kneeling position.

His face was right in front of the creature’s impressive package, covered only by a flimsy loin cloth. It fluttered in the night breeze and he had to bite down on his finger to stop his depraved moaning. “Ff-forgive me, my good-demon-sir, but I swear I’m not trespassing. I’m a humble worker here at this museum.”

He quickly took out his employee badge to offer it up to the demon who barely gave it a glance. “Gargoyle,” it said in reply.

“Oh. I’m sorry but I don’t really know what you mean by that.” Wait, why did he say that? He didn’t want to get further in the demon’s bad side than he already was! “I mean no offense, of course. I’m sure gargoyles are absolutely lovely—”

“No,” he interrupted, his face smoothed out into blank slate. It made it harder to read him but Shang Qinghua quickly decided that it was alright. “I am a gargoyle, human. You may address me as Mobei Jun.”

Ohhh. Now that he mentioned it, his wings and horns could belong to a gargoyle. He knew that they were popular parts historical buildings that had a strong Western influence, which the museum did.

“And I am a king. Not a sir.”

Curse his authority kink. He was sure that any new fantasies he conjured up would be staring this particular king and Shang Qinghua as his servant.

“Of course, my king! You’re reeking of kingly handsomeness. As a lowly human, my apologies for the obvious mistake.” The gargoyle king didn’t make any move to acknowledge his words other than a slow blink, so he figured that it was all good. “Excuse me if this sounds rude, but what are you doing up here? And what was all the noise about?”

“Guardian. I was charged with the safety of this place by a war lord.” Jeez. So he’d been with the building for centuries at least, maybe even millennia.

There was a pause and he realized that he wasn’t going to answer the second question. It also seemed like the gargoyle king was waiting on him and a light bulb went off. “S-sorry again my king. I am Shang Qinghua. I am in charge of the rare artifacts inside of the building, so you may see me closing up most nights.”

The gargoyle king nodded sagely and he figured that the role must be acceptable to him. A loud sigh left him and his muscles relaxed just in the slightest way. He might survive this encounter yet. Ever better, survive and be able to go home and break out that new bottle of lube that he bought last week. There was plenty of new material to work with, that was for sure.

Then the gargoyle stepped back, giving him more space, which was actually the opposite of what he wanted. Feel free to punish him for earlier transgressions, king, especially if they were rough in a sexy way!

Unaware of his inner pleadings, he continued walking away to crouch back near the edge of the roof.

“Umm, be careful, king. It’s dangerous to be that close—”

“I am a king. Concerns such as that are not applicable,” he said, puffing up his chest. Those pecs! He might have to put in a request tomorrow to do more work on the roof. It was a crime that no one was admiring that body on a regular basis. “Leave. Return home. The circles under your eyes are hideous.”

He gasped, touching his bags. Rude! He had just finished a long shift and definitely wasn’t at his best. He was going to have to step up his game if he was going to tempt this gargoyle in the future. Trying his best not to show embarrassment, or disappointment, he agreed to leave.

“Whatever you want, my king. I’ll leave for now but if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after as well. In fact, every night, in case you need me.” Screw his weekend off. Who needed one of those when there was a hot gargoyle of legend serving as the guardian of the museum. Not him, that’s who.

He scrambled to his feet and bowed again for good measure. The door was open and he was across the threshold when his dream gargoyle muttered something. “Did you say something, my king?”

He cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “The pigeons pooped in my hair.”

Suddenly, the growling from earlier made sense. No matter if you were human or gargoyle, having birds shit in your hair, especially hair as luscious as Mobei Jun’s, was bound to make anyone furious.

Determined to keep his laughs to himself if it was the last thing he did, he merely replied, “Yes, my king. I will make sure to chase them away from you next time.”

“See that you do.”

On cloud nine, Shang Qinghua grinned as he bounded down the stairwell. The gargoyle’s comment implied that there would be a next time. And he intended to romance the loincloth off (literally) of the serious gargoyle king.

Hope you all enjoyed! So happy to share this with everyone. Thanks for reading :)

#svsss #svsss fanfic #mobei jun #shang qinghua #moshang

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c-is-for-circinate · 4 years

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It’s New Years’ Eve, and for once, my dash isn’t full of the sorts of fun-silly-memey end-of-year posts celebrating the past 365 days. Which is fair. We all know what this year has been, and for all the hoped-for relief that it’s finally over, we all know it’s going to keep being hard for a while yet into the next one.

But there have been so many little moments this year, too. So. A list:

In the courtyard of my apartment building in the middle of Chicago, in a part of the city where trees don’t get planted on the sidewalks, there are two tall trees, taller than the three-story roof of the building, like trees should be. This spring, one of my neighbors (and I will never know who, because I have met none of my neighbors in person) left a package of sidewalk chalk on the concrete path in the middle of the courtyard, and one by one, bit by bit, people began to use it--the woman with the little girl who looked about two through my window last January and looks about three now, and the people with their dogs, and the neighbors passing by or sitting in the sunlight under the green trees in the summer, one or two at a time, never talking to each other, but sharing the chalk. Every rainfall it washed away, and a few days later there would be art again: bright flowers and shaky hopscotch courts, scrawling letters of BLACK LIVES MATTER and GO VOTE and HAPPY 4TH OF JULY, the oddly-colored fish I circled around the middle of the yard in June and the only jack-o-lantern I put out this year at the end of October. Nearly every person in this building is an adult, very nearly no children at all, but everyone played this summer, or if we didn’t play, we saw it out our windows under the green trees all year long.

The neighbor downstairs on the other side of the hall took up clarinet this year, or started practicing at home in the middle of the afternoon--not at the start of quarantine, when we were all shy and quiet, but later on, bit by bit, as the hair came down and the cabin fever set in. They are good at clarinet, and they are taking joy in it, and some days I turn off my own music just to listen for a while as they practice. Today they played the Totoro theme song, just loud enough to be quiet and smile at.

On weeks my D&D group can’t convene a quorum (we’ve tried so hard to hold zoom sessions, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t and sometimes the Japanese prime minister resigns and a house none of us have ever lived in catches fire and things go wrong), our cleric screenshares the New York Times crossword, and whoever’s there works in laughing diligent cooperation to fill out puzzle after puzzle, tripping each over each other to answer clues first while our cleric tries to keep up with typing in the letters. We can solve a Sunday in about twenty minutes. Last month we worked on the Cryptic Crossword for well over an hour before we had to break up for the night, but it got shared to the group chat. Three days and well over a hundred text messages later, I unmuted the thread to discover that my players had managed to work together and solve the entire thing, and I found I was so proud of them I could burst. (Then I wrote them a five-dimensional logic grid puzzle to solve on a time limit, because they keep talking their way out of combat and if they can do THAT, then they can figure out that the Marquis of the Mews is an archfey wearing pink in the midst of a ball where they can only ask yes or no questions and must be done by midnight.)

All year long, we have held virtual knit night on Thursdays from our homes. All year long until it grew too cold, the owner of our little yarn store set up chairs on her sidewalk on Saturday afternoons, six feet apart, where we could bring our masks and our yarn and knit in the bright sunshine and see each other face to face and be seen in return. (And the owner of our little yarn store has stayed in business, and not just because she made that place a home for us over months and years before 2020 even happened, but because so many people have learned to knit this year, and so many people have found something to do with their hands and their hearts and their yarn that is soft and beautiful to look at and warm in the cold.)

I have a friend who texts me every weekday morning at 11:30 AM to check in and poke my executive function into gear if it needs an external starter. I have a friend seven time zones away who makes lists of the things they need to do that day in our discord chat at 3 AM my time, and when I wake up and check in I make lists back while they’re at work, and if they wake up the next morning again and I’m still awake they prod my executive function to put me to bed again. I have internet friends I’ve fallen out of touch with and internet friends I’ve found again and I’ve gone through seven different fandoms this year skipping from rec to rec to rec, and had people to talk and cry and flail at about every single one.

Sometimes strangers do nice things for strangers just because they can. This year I have commented on more fic than ever before in my life, essays that took half an hour to write because I could and I needed somebody to know they’d touched me, to maybe touch them back. This year, someone on my dash gave me access to a whole trove of personally-uploaded movies because I’d lost my Miyazaki library and she had one to share and, fuck, if you can do something like that for a friend of a friend of a friend, why wouldn’t you? An acquaintance gave me a free handsewn mask that fits better than anything else I’ve bought this year. I am so, so, so proud of the students I have helped survive this year of remote learning, bit by painstaking bit, as they passed AP Calculus and junior high biology and learned to write beautiful papers and run statistical analyses and make lists of ADLs and cope with getting out of bed every day when there’s nobody to notice if they don’t.

I’ve spent more time sitting on my back porch this year than I have in longer than I can remember, even when I have to put on a winter coat and extra socks to eat dinner. The people across the alley have put up their Christmas tree on their back deck for the season, and their downstairs neighbors strung lights. They’re beautiful in the dark.

#this is apparently the 2020 mood #and really #it's not all bad

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

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Come Over | Elijah Mikaelson

Hey Lovelies! This is my first post on this profile! If you're curious feel free to pop over to my other handle: @sweetpeasgirl where i write for riverdale! However this blog is for all fandoms! It's all very exciting and I am happy to take on a new project. Anyway this is my first time writing for Elijah/TVD/TO so I hope its good! Also my first smut oh no oh god. Lemme know what you think!

Description: Based on the song "Come Over" by Sam Hunt. Y/n finds out Elijah Mikaelson is a vampire in the worst way possible. She freaks out and runs. Elijah follows after. It comes to a crossroads at her apartment.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! NSFW, Smut (oral female receiving), 18+ (I feel obligated to say it ;) )

Word count: 3413

Tags: fluff, some angst, SMUT

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

I turn the TV off, to turn it on again

Staring at the blades of the fan as it spins around

The clock on your nightstand reads 11:34. The remote control is heavy in your hand. Nothing on the TV is interesting to you even slightly right now. Your room is sweltering and dark. Your bed is a mess, the comforter crinkled and shoved to the foot. Messy beds are always more uncomfortable. Any day but today you would care.

You glance down at your phone, not surprised in the slightest to see another missed call. That makes 22. Almost a new record. Two more and he’ll start a new one. That’s just his type. Persistent. It’s why you fell in love with him. He didn’t give up. You sigh and block the call, placing the phone face down on the nightstand. Your whole body feels hot.

Clicking again on the remote, you come across a reality show. It's trashy, the accents are harsh, it screams “daddy’s money”. It’s perfect. Maybe it’ll be enough to take your mind off of the events of this evening. Off of him. The girl on the show runs into the arms of a handsome man. You turn the TV off almost as fast as you had turned it on.

You had been picturing tonight in your head for a week. The Mikaelson Ball. Dining and dancing and elegance. Nothing your usual life regularly allowed. It was supposed to be special. The invitation alone was magnificent enough to make you swoon. The dress had almost made you faint. The necklace did. It was all perfect. He was perfect. And then it wasn’t.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand. You forgot to turn it off. Or maybe you left it on purpose. Your head feels fuzzy, though, and you don’t want to think about it. You wish his face would get out of your mind. Your eyes drift to the fan above you and you try to count the blades as they go around and around. You lose track easily, and you don’t care. It doesn’t do anything to soothe your molten skin.

Counting every crack, the clock is wide awake

Talking to myself, anything to make a sound

You pick the phone up once more, ready to scream at it. Every part of you feels like it's on fire and seeing his name on the screen pushes you over the edge. You don’t know what you did to get tangled in all of this but you’re ready to claw your throat out. Instead, you throw the phone as hard as you can against the pile of comforters. It stops buzzing but your skin is still sticky. You feel sick to your stomach.

“Why did you pick me, why couldn’t it have been someone else,” your tone is harsh but it’s not like he can hear you, “it hurts Eli. Make it stop. Please!”

Your voice is barely a whisper and it turns to cries quickly as the anger dies out. All you can see, swirling around the depths of your mind, are his fangs. The way his brown eyes died to a blackness. The stark veins against his sculpted cheeks. He had looked every bit as beautiful as ever. Still elegant, still handsome. Still Elijah. But dark. Dangerous. That’s what scared you. Elijah was still Elijah when he was ripping a heart from a chest.

It felt like a blur when you saw it. One minute he had his hand on the small of your back. You had been taking a stroll in the garden. It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Beautiful hedge walls and roses of all different colours and a magnolia tree like you had only ever imagined. The moon wasn’t quite full over your heads. He was finally about to kiss you, something you had been silently pleading for for months now. Before his lips could touch yours, though, there was a hand around your throat. It had squeezed to the point of you almost passing out before Elijah had time to rip you away from your attacker. You didn’t see him move, you just saw his hand break through the mans sternum and rip his beating heart out of his chest. As soon as you saw his face, his eyes, you bolted.

“I’m scared, Eli. I miss you. I’m scared that I miss you and a thousand other things. I need you.”

You look at the dress hanging on the back of your door. At one point it was a delicate, pale pink number. It had off the shoulder straps that, really, had no point but were beautiful. There was satin cream ribbon to lace up the back and the sweetest of sweetheart necklines. Now it was splattered in blood, the satin ribbons stained. One of the sleeves had ripped when you ran. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever owned and it was ruined in less than an hour. Fairytales were supposed to end at midnight, not nine o'clock.

“I wish you would come over.” You mean it.

You just want him to explain. To show up and sweep you off your feet and tell you that he won’t hurt you. You shouldn't even need the reassurance. You know him. That's your Elijah. Somewhere deep down you know that. But it's not making you any less afraid right now. He had been protecting you, but no one has ever ripped out a heart for you before. You’re allowed to be afraid of new things. You’re allowed to be afraid of things that are frightening. That’s what being human is. You still feel like a traitor, though, when you feel afraid of Elijah.

Your voice is silent in the darkness, “I wish you could hear me. Come over, Elijah.”

Your phone beeped. You pick it up in time to read the screen. Call ended.

I told you I wouldn't call, I told you I wouldn't care

But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere

Call ended. Call ended 12:43. Twelve minutes and forty-three seconds. Elijah had been on the phone with you for almost thirteen minutes. Crap.

You think about how far away the Mikaelson mansion is from your apartment. Twenty minutes tops, and that’s your driving. Elijah’s driving? Ten, if you’re lucky. You could try to reason with yourself. Maybe he hadn't heard you. Maybe he doesn't want to see you. Maybe he hung up because he got tired of hearing you whine. You can’t help the dry laugh that falls from your lips. It’s Elijah. You probably only have five minutes now.

You jump to your feet and begin making your bed, your pulse thumping loud once more in your ears. He’s been in your apartment before, but that was when he was just Elijah. Not the Elijah with fangs and black eyes. Now he’s different. Mysterious. Who knows what he’s seen. What he’s done. You never thought your apparent was shabby by any means but would he? You know your life can’t compare to the wonders he’s most definitely seen.

You move to the kitchen, which is, by default, the living room as well, and begin picking up mugs and newspapers and anything else out of order that you can see. You sneak a quick glance out your kitchen window, into the parking lot below, just in time to see a sleek black car speed into one of the only available spots left. You can hear the engine purr from your fourth floor apartment. You know exactly whose car that is and thus aren't surprised when Elijah Mikaelson steps out from the drivers side and slams the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. You gasp at the bang the metal makes and his head whips up, his eyes locking with yours from the ground.

You close your eyes for just a second. There's no way he could have heard that. When you look back to the ground, he’s gone. Before you can sigh there's a knock at the door.

I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder

Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

You move to the door but you don’t open it. You place your palm on the wood trim and try to picture the man on the other side. He’ll look like Elijah. He’ll smell like Elijah and probably talk like Elijah, too. But is he still the same Elijah?

“Y/n, I know you’re there, open the door. Please?” His voice sounds the same, his accent penetrating the barrier between you and tickling your ears.

“Elijah,” your voice is but a whisper and you know you should be the only one who can hear it, “I’m scared.”

“I know, love, that’s ok. I won’t hurt you, though, and I need you to open the door. I just- I need to see you,” his voice cracks, just barely but it’s there.

That’s all it takes for you to slide the lock and open the door. In front of you, for the second time tonight, is a man you don’t recognize. He doesn’t have fangs and his eyes are his usual deep brown but they look shattered. His hair, usually styled to perfection, is a mess, like he had been running his hands through it for the past few hours. His suit jacket is gone, leaving him in slacks and the dress shirt he had been wearing at the ball, only now it’s untucked and the sleeves are rolled haphazardly up his arms. Elijah Mikaleson looks disheveled and you’re terrified again because this Elijah, hurt and upset, looks further from himself than the Elijah from the garden.

“Eli-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. God, I’m so fucking sorry,” his voice shakes as he stands in your doorway, “please let me explain, baby.”

You swallow at his words. Baby. That's new.

“Eli, you know you can come in whenever you want,” your eyes look to the ground, feigning interest in the knots of your hardwood floor.

“I want to hear you say it,” you can feel his eyes burning into your lowered head, “I need to hear that you want me to come in, Y/n.”

This time it’s your voice that breaks, “of course I want you to come in Elijah.”

He sighs and steps over the threshold, standing mere feet away from you. You feel so small next to him in nothing but a pair of plaid sleep shorts and plain tank top. Your bare feet, for the first time since getting home, are cool against the floor.

He reaches to touch you and you flinch away, “baby, god, no. Please don’t be afraid.”

Your chest aches at the scared look in his eyes and all you want to do is run into his arms but you need answers.

“What happened back there, Elijah?” You feel pathetic at how quiet your voice still is.

“He wanted to hurt me, torture me. And he knew he couldn't. So he went for you, because he knew I would retaliate,” his eyes land on yours and you can see that he still wants to rip that man limb from limb, “he was a werewolf, Y/n. He wanted you dead, I had to do it.”

He sinks to his knees, his voice dropping lower and lower until the last words are just whispers. His words ring in your ears again. Werewolf. A werewolf wanted you dead. You felt faint.

“Why was a,” you say the word carefully, “werewolf trying to hurt you?”

“Because I'm a vampire, Y/n,” his voice breaks fully this time.

You don’t know what to do. Not with the rapid beating of your heart nor the new information you’ve just acquired and especially not with the crying Mikaelson on his knees in your hallway. Your Elijah, the man who pulls your chair out at restaurants and opens your doors and always has a hand on you when you’re around his brothers, is a vampire. You’re not even sure what that means, there are so many questions running through your mind. You want to ask each and every one of them but, seeing the man in front of you, somehow now doesn’t feel like the right time.

Your heart flutters looking at Elijah. His hands are in his hair again, pulling desperately on the strands. Your heart falls into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight. How can you be afraid of someone being so openly vulnerable to you. No man has ever gotten on his knees for you. No one has ever begged on their knees for you. It’s breathtaking, all you need to push yourself into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You should be terrified of me y/n,” he chokes into your chest, “I’m not good for you. I'm a monster, baby.”

His words shred at your heart. You run your fingers through his hair, smoothing the soft locks beneath your fingers.

“No you’re not. You're still my Elijah.”

His head lifts from your chest and he captures your eyes with his serious ones. He looks awestruck.

“Your Elijah?” His accent is even thicker with all the emotion.

You smile for the first time in many hours, “of course, Eli.”

He sweeps you up and into his arms so quickly you get dizzy. Before you know what’s happened, he has you sat on your kitchen island and he’s standing between your legs. Your arms are still clinging tight to his neck while his hands hang dangerously low on your hips.

“And you’re mine, Y/n.”

His words makes your body sing, “All yours.”

He closes his eyes, his hands tightening deliciously on your hips, “say it again. Please, baby.”

“I’m yours Elijah. I’ve always been yours.”

His lips crash hungrily onto yours. He wraps his arms around your lower back and you tangle your legs around his waist to avoid falling off the countertop. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down harshly before soothing the sting with his tongue. You're enamoured with this side of Elijah. You’ve seen his gentleman side, it was magnificent, but this side of him? It was everything you didn't know you needed.

He pulls back, only putting a fraction of space between your bodies but it feels like too much, “please don’t run from me again.”

Your lips brush his when you speak, “Never, Eli.”

He pulls your mouth back to his, a hand tangled in your hair tugging gently at the roots. You can’t but moan against his lips and squeeze your legs around his waist. You grab blindly at his shirt, trying desperately to undo the buttons. Your fingers fumble and he chuckles into your mouth. He releases you to pull his shirt off, dropping it mindlessly on the floor, his lips never leaving yours.

His chest is sculpted like the finest marble and you can’t resist running your hands over his skin. He feels strong under your fingertips. He lets out a groan as you slide them back to his shoulders to the nape of his neck. His lips move over your jaw, down your neck, kissing and sucking a trail to your throat.

His hands grip the edge of your tank top bunching the material in his fists, “may I?”

Always the gentleman.

You nod your head before the words can leave your mouth, “please.”

He smirks, his eyes shining, as he begins pulling the tank top tantalizingly slow up your chest. You raise your arms over your head with his movements, lowering them back to his torso when he drops your shirt with his. His chocolate eyes meet yours again, seeking permission. You can’t fight the small smile as you nod. His smile that greets yours is breathtaking.

His eyes flick down, taking in your bare chest like a child in a candy store. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, much like he did to yours only moments ago. His hands slide up the curve of your waist, trailing a new kind of fire wherever he touches. His thumbs graze the sides of your breasts and you just barely stop the moan, closing your eyes to regain the little control you have left.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re stunning Y/n. Absolutely beautiful.”

Before you can process it, his mouth is around your breast, pulling your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. It sends a spark of electricity to the deepest part of your stomach, building an ache that you’ve felt before but stronger. Blinding. It’s white hot. You don’t try to stop the moans, you don’t want to. His tongue swirls around your breast, teasingly slow, making you feel every little movement. It’s dangerously addictive.

“Elijah,” you breath his name like oxygen.

His lips let you go, moving down your chest, trailing kisses down your abdomen, pulling praises from your lips as he goes. His eyes find yours when he sinks to his knees for the second time tonight. His hands grasp your shorts, covering your hips easily. You’re a wanton mess in front of him, practically fully undone from the simplest of touches.

“What do you want me to do, baby, you have to tell me what you want.” It's good to know he’s breathless too.

“Eli, I-” you moan as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, sucking gently at the skin, his eyes still locked on yours, “I want you.”

He pulls his lips back, “you want me to do what, baby?”

You groan at the devilish smirk on his handsome face, “I want you to kiss me!”

“As you wish.”

He pulls your shorts off first, slowly dragging them down your legs, kissing all the way down and back up again. When you're left in nothing but your panties he presses the first kiss to you. It’s hot and sends shocks throughout your entire body.

“More, now. Please, Elijah.”

He chuckles but does as told, pulling the remaining material down your legs before hooking your legs over his muscular shoulders. He wastes no time attaching his lips to your sex, sucking delightfully. He swirls his tongue over your clit, stoking the fire building in your stomach. He drags his tongue down your slit for what feels like an eternity before he plunges into you. You throw your head back and close your eyes, mumbling praises into oblivion. You can feel his eyes on you, soaking up every inch of you.

Your hands find his hair again, not seeming to want to be apart from him, “god.”

“That's not my name, baby,” he mumbles against you, stopping his ministrations.

You open your eyes and lock them with his waiting ones, drawing his name out in your best attempt at being seductive, “Elijah.”

His eyes darken but this time you aren't scared. No, this time his eyes make him look dominant. Sexy. His tongue attacks your clit again only this time faster and hungrier. It makes the fire in your stomach white hot. He’s unrelenting, bringing you closer to the edge with every pass of his tongue. He's pouring everything he has into pleasuring you and you can feel it, literally. You squeeze your thighs around him tighter, ready to explode

“Come for me, baby.”

With that you fall into something you’ve heard about but never thought possible. All you can see, all you can feel, is Elijah. He consumes all of your senses as you fall apart, over and over again, under his touch. In the midst of falling apart you catch Elijah’s eyes and fall all over again. He looks like he’s in pure bliss watching you come undone because of him. You know in all your falling you murmur his name more than once. You know that he loves it.

As you come down from your high, you go to unwrap your legs from his neck, only to have him wrap you around his waist and pick you up. You can’t help but giggle at his determined look.

When he starts walking toward your bedroom you ask, “what’s on your mind, Eli?”

“Round two,” you giggle again when he kisses your forehead.

“I'm glad you came over, Elijah.”

#elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson #TVD #The Vampire Diaries #The Originals #TO #Elijah Mikaelson Imagine #tvd imagine #to imagine #The Vampire Diaries Imagine #The Originals Imagine #Spotify

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multifandomfanficreclist · 4 years

Text

Witcher Fic Mass Post

I have delved deep into the Witcher fandom during these quarantimes. This is a selection of the fics I’ve enjoyed.

All are Geralt/Jaskier unless stated otherwise.

***

Louder and Louder - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295869

Geralt tries to puzzle out why Jaskier keeps following him into danger after danger... completely missing the obvious. There's too great a gulf between what his witcher senses pick up, and what his damaged heart is willing to accept.

"The bard’s heart always beats faster whenever the witcher draws near. That isn't unusual. So do the hearts of most humans he encounters. Not only do they blanch and recoil at the sight of his white hair and amber eyes, but they begin to sweat, the stench of their fear a sour tang at the back of his throat.

But the bard never seems to reek of fear."

***

The Courting Jewellery A/B/O - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689562

Geralt doesn’t wear his courting jewelry—the medallion is apparently a witcher thing, not an omega one—and Jaskier supposes that makes sense. Geralt leads a very active life, and probably saves the jewelry for situations it won’t run the constant risk of getting ruined in. Certainly a nice set of earrings would be a lot more fragile than the plain studs he wears instead. A lot of omegas don’t wear their courting jewelry day to day, anyway, or at least not most of it. Geralt’s hardly unusual in that.

It’s a bit of a shame, though, because Jaskier’d like to see him in it.

***

You Follow? - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620703

I’m a Jaskier Rivia stan first and a person second @whitewolfpackleader: Did @bardofficial win a Grammy? No. But he DID put his husband in a leather tunic for the red carpet and in that sense, we’re all winners tonight

***

Front Row Praises - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326214

The girl rolls her eyes at him. “If you’re just going to stand here ogling the witcher, maybe go and do it out of the way.”

“Ogling.” Jaskier scoffs. “Who’s ogling?”

She looks unimpressed. “Have you told him you want him to fuck you?”

***

Even a Small Love - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22473670

“Well,” Jaskier replies distractedly. “Lots of things want to strangle you.”

“You don’t.”

It isn’t a particularly troublesome accusation, or even necessarily an accusation at all.

***

Redwood and Dandelion - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681252

"The Witcher's bought a room for the night, and says he'll pay double for anyone who can bed him without stinking of fear the whole time."

"Oh, I've fucking got this," Jaskier promised.

Or, the one where Jaskier works in a brothel and falls head over heels for the stoic, not-actually-that-scary Witcher who comes in requesting his services.

Geralt doesn't know what he's getting himself into.

***

Petrichor - Geralt/Eskel/Jaskier - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866559/chapters/54652891

“Geralt…? What, by Melitele’s tits, are you doing? The door, man, normal people use a d--... Geralt?” He noticed it now. The feverish sheen on the Witcher’s skin, the alert, skittish look in his eyes and the--. He cleared the distance between them in three strides. Geralt retreated until his back hit the wall with a dull thud, but Jaskier would not be deterred. He shoved his face into the crook of Geralt’s neck and breathed in deeply, his hands gripping the edges of the damp cloak draped over broad shoulders. “You’re…”

“I need… need to ask you… for a…” He clenched his teeth, eyes rolling to the ceiling. Two gloved hands lifted to push Jaskier away from his chest; it felt like trying to move a mountain. Not because Jaskier pushed back, but because every fibre of his being wanted to pull the other way. Ask for a what though? ‘Favour’ didn’t quite fit the bill for what he was about to request, and so he stared at Jaskier with those intense golden eyes, while mentally scrambling for a coherent explanation amidst the brain fog.

The saga of Geralt and Jaskier getting together, falling in love with Eskel, and learning that it's all right to want (and let themselves have) things.

***

Where There’s a Witcher - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604140

Jaskier is a twentysomething recently unemployed journalist and amateur musician looking for his big break. So when he’s saved from the jaws of a wyvern by the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia, he comes up with a brilliant idea: he’ll follow the Witcher around and sing about their exploits. He’ll gain fame and fortune and Geralt will get a much needed image rehab. Everyone wins. Unless Jaskier goes and falls in love like an idiot.

***

Tired Symphony Verse - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597723

Silence reigned between them. Outside there was the dull sound of training swords clashing and Jaskier turned his gaze towards the window, watching the sky outside.

“I’m-- sorry.” Geralt said. It sounded truly remorseful.

Jaskier took a deep breath and then tipped himself slightly to the side, pressing his shoulder against the witcher’s.

“I know.”

***

There Goes my Heart Beating - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382665

“Sometimes,” Geralt says quietly, “I forget that you care.”

Jaskier looks up surprised and sees that Geralt is looking down at him with a small frown on his face. “Geralt,” Jaskier sighs, shaking his head fondly, “you foolish beef-brain. Of course I care.”

Or,

Five times Jaskier asks Geralt questions, and the one time Geralt asked Jaskier.

***

Shrug off the Shroud - https://archiveofourown.org/works/23027161

askier's student doesn’t see him when she skids into the tavern. Her friends are already present, drinking merrily, and she slaps their table so hard their tankards rattle.

“Have you heard?" She flashes a gossiper's secretive grin. "The White Wolf’s gone mad.”

After Geralt sends Jaskier away, Jaskier returns to Oxenfurt and builds a good (albeit unfulfilling) life there. He's fine—moving on, truly—until gut-wrenching rumors start to circulate that the White Wolf's lost his his mind. Jaskier's a bard. A truth-teller. He can't just let the rumors go unsubstantiated.

***

Sometimes a Hammer, Sometimes a Lockpick - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998961

Geralt's been in a dungeon for two weeks and is understandably frustrated. Jaskier, on the other hand, is what one might call... livid.

***

New Monster Stories - https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097970/chapters/55260658

“So do you have a name?”

“Yeah.” The man who had saved his life less than an hour ago – the white-haired, absurdly buff, weirdly sexy man Jaskier might have called taciturn if he was feeling charitable and surly if he was feeling less so – dug into his second burger.

Jaskier waited. “Are… you going to tell me what it is?”

The man paused mid-bite, and looked at him reproachfully as if to say how dare you. How dare you interrupt me. Can’t you see I’m enjoying my cheeseburger. Can’t you see this cheeseburger is the most important thing in my life right at the moment. He swallowed, and said, “Geralt.”

It turns out almost getting eaten by a werewolf can make your whole life go careening off in a new, terrifying, wondrous, artistically flourishing direction. Who knew?

***

When Midnights Break their Sleep - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647292

The first Snapchat that anyone ever sends Geralt is a picture of his own irritated face.

shrike_princess: can u believe this dumbass finally got a snapchat bc a cute boy asked him nicely

"It wasn't even that nicely," Geralt says flatly.

AKA: The one where Geralt is a bartender and Jaskier sings karaoke.

***

An Exaltation of Wolves - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687699

Jaskier accompanies Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter and finds the other Witchers just as prickly--and just as deserving of love--as the White Wolf.

***

Lilacs and Dandelions - Jaskier/Yennefer/Geralt - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929526/chapters/54808162

“The Witcher believes you’re under a spell,” Yennefer said, conversationally, drawing a sip from her tea.

“I most certainly am,” said Jaskier to her in a warm drawl that Geralt recognized as the tone of voice he slipped into when flirting and frankly, things needed to start making more sense and fast before he gave into his impulse to do something rash and wholly unhelpful. Namely, chuck himself out the cottage window and into the sea.

Or Geralt seeks out Yennefer only to find her, of all unbelievable and ridiculous things, shacking up with his bard.

***

Woodash and Iron and Leather - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22114921

Jaskier is the only person Geralt's ever been around who doesn't smell of fear

#The Witcher #Witcher #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geraskefer #RandomFandom #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficrec

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starkerintheparker · 5 years

Text

starker reclist - canon based fics

Hi Starker fam! To celebrate my 900 followers I decided to finally start posting my humble and very personal reclist. I’ve been planning to do it for a while now but it got way bigger than I anticipated so I decided to split it in 4 parts and will share the first one today. I’ve been around for less than a year and there’s a lot I haven’t read yet so my plan is to update this list as I go.

Under the cut is part I, solely is dedicated to canon-based fics. I’m a sucker for angst so most of my recs feature guilty!Tony, miscommunication, porn with feels and all that jazz. Hopefully you’ll be able to find something interesting according to your preferences. Oh and don’t forget to leave kudos, comments and spread the love for these authors :) Cheers!

Last updated: 2020/04/18. All new fics added will be marked with ***

• 10 Ways to Woo Your Boo by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 6k, completed)

Summary: By twenty-one Peter Parker had graduated college, scored himself a post-grad job and was a full-fledged member of the Avengers. He had his own apartment, paid his own bills and juggled his time between being a superhero and working enough to cover his rent. So long as Peter was armed with his ID, he was a full-fledged adult in the eyes of the law. Perhaps foolishly, he’d assumed it would make him an adult in the eyes of everybody else too. Keen to be seen as worthy of Tony's heart, Peter enlists the help of his friends and the internet in courting his former mentor.

Review: We all love Ash’s fantastic AUs but this lovely canon-based fic may be one of my favorite works by her. I will never know how she manages the fine balance between angst, humor and romance, I just know it hits me good and takes my breath away. Oblivious!Tony and Peter being a bisexual disaster at wooing, what do you mean this wasn’t in the movies? Sounds canon to me.

• 100-Point Restoration by Destina (T, 8k, completed)

Summary: Tony needs a happiness upgrade; Peter wants Tony. These goals might be compatible. (This story is set roughly five years post-Homecoming).

Review: I just realized this was the first Starker fic I’ve read, and it was back in 2017! I didn’t ship Starker at the time but this author must have done something right because for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes away. This fic is gorgeous. Tony’s voice is amazing, his dynamics with Peter are spot-on and organic - but nothing’s better than watching their feelings unfold, like a soft and warm humming just awaiting for disclosure.

• adult supervision by doveslayer (M, 20k, on hiatus)

Summary: Peter Parker should not keep drunk-dialing Tony Stark after midnight. But more pressingly, Tony Stark should not keep answering. In which Tony tries to convince himself he's doing nothing wrong. warning: underage!Peter tho pretty vanilla imo

Review: My favorite “everything is happening while nothing is happening” fic. Their voices are spot on, the dialogues are clever, and you can almost touch the tension with your fingertips. It’s been a year since the last update but even if this fic never gets finished I promise the read will have been worthy!

• Attached by @paspleurer (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: Tony gets it, he really does. As far as rebounds go, sleeping with your childhood hero isn't half bad. And if what Peter wants is this— just sex, with no strings attached— then Tony will give him this.

Review: Pleurer and Learned Foot have seduced me with the rebound trope. This is a lovely Tony POV with the good old pining + miscommunication combo, plus enthusiastic sex and sweet domesticity. What else could I ask for?

• Covet by RTC anonymous (E, 34k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a new boyfriend. Tony starts drinking again, for unrelated reasons.

Review: I read this fic when I was still warily lurking around the Starker fandom and it blew me away. The sexual tension is so palpable you can almost taste it. There is jealous, guity Tony failing at mentoring and a vulnerable, smitten Peter Parker trying to make sense out of it. RTC anon is a religion.

• Ephemeron by @ramblings-from-elsinore (E)

Summary: "Being around Ned, Peter's reminded how out of place he is. For Ned, the second ever appearance of aliens over Manhattan is the stuff of excited hallway chatter, of where were you when—? Ned’s world wasn’t blown apart and stitched back together. Because Ned doesn’t remember. No one does, except the ones who were there, who fought." AKA, "Tony's relationship with Peter may be unconventional, but they’re unconventional people who have had some pretty fucking unconventional experiences." In which Tony can't stop touching Peter to make sure he's real, and Peter dreams of being in Tony's arms and not disappearing.

Review: I started reading this fic before I joined the fandom and man, what a way to get pulled into this ship. Brace yourself for hardcore guilty!Tony being all over the place plus unhealthy codependency and touch deprivation, all the good things. Reading this is a spiritual experience but fair warning: this is not a happy story, at least not for a long while, so please mind the tags.

• Expiration Date by @learned-foot (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony knows exactly what this is. First big breakup, go for a fling with a completely inappropriate person. It’s basically a cliché. He kind of thought Peter was better than that, but apparently being brilliant and one of the bravest people on the face of the planet doesn’t mean he’s immune from being a stupid college student who makes stupid college student mistakes. AKA Tony is sure this is just a fling, and he deals with that about as well as you’d expect.

Review: Ahh my beloved rebound trope and my first rec (out of many) by LF! Between a pining, insecure Tony making all the wrong decisions and a young and confident Peter unwilling to let him go, this fic makes your heart ache in the best ways. Good thing LF only works with happy endings!

• From Thy Bounty by @ibby-writes and feyrelay (E, 31k, completed)

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Review: I’ve lost count of how many times I reread this insanely hot and ridiculously well written fic. Besides the A+++ characterization, there is delicious food porn foreplay followed by a breathtaking cat and mouse game that culminates with no less than 13.5k of intense and unapologetic sex with feels, my favorite kind. Enjoy the meal! ;D

***Gift of Choice by tuesday (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Review: This is my favorite fic by tuesday and the PERFECT rendition of our beloved sugar daddy trope. Great pacing, amazing dialogues and a breathtaking build up that makes you both smile and sweat in anticipation. They’re so in love I almost can’t handle when they finally get together. Sexy, hot and very sweet.

• here is my hand, my heart by belatrix (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: Mostly, Tony had tried not to look. He still does. Try, that is. It’s just― it’s getting a little bit harder every day.

Review: I have a HUGE soft spot for this beautiful masterpiece, because it was the fic that finally made me join the Starker fandom. I’ve reread it so many times and it never fails to amaze me. Through an atmospheric non-linear narrative, this shows a guilt-ridden Tony Stark trying and failing to resist one determined Peter Parker who won’t take bullshit for an answer. Hot, and angsty, and breathtaking.

• I know that you got Daddy Issues (And I do too) by feyrelay (E)

Summary: The one where Peter’s blue balls save the world. Because, yeah? That meandering, blooming thing between him and Mr. Stark? That relationship that continues to be maddeningly legal, platonic, and above-board, but still somehow haunts Peter’s wildest wet-dreams? That might just be the key to Strange’s endgame.

Review: This fic is a love letter to those who appreciate an angsty and nuanced slow burn like me. Possibly the best character study I’ve ever read combined with a clever, well researched and intricated plot. Reading this will make you fall even more in love with Tony and Peter as individuals, before wanting them to be better together. Make sure to also check all related fics under the tag DIEU (Daddy Issues Extended Universe) - the Starker verse we fucking deserve.

• if I am the river, you are the ocean by sadonsundays (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: The one where Tony can't sleep and Peter can't stop his hands from shaking.

Review: This is a gorgeous recovery fic, painful and heartbreaking, yes, but still very gentle as Tony and Peter’s relationship quietly unfolds. Pepper is an absolute treat which was refreshing to me. I just love the quiet and angsty undertone that guides their journey until they finally find home in each other.

if you’d grant my love a pardon by belatrix (M, 2.5k, completed)

Summary: The first time, it goes something like this: “No,” Tony says, but it’s tired, half-hearted, not quite a denial.

Review: One of the reasons why I love this ship is that there’s always room for angst, even when they’re already together. This lovely yet heartbreaking fic mirrors Tony’s fragile heart as he realizes that as much as he should, he just can’t let go of Peter, not quite yet. Belatrix writes guilty!Tony’s headspace like nobody else and I just can’t recommend her writing enough.

• in the light of a dying star by @areiton (M, 6k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Extremis isn't a guarantee. That's what Pepper told him, as they took him off the bloody, dusty field. It was just a chance. A desperate gamble.

Review: I’m so glad I read this right after Endgame because this is the fix-it Tony and we all deserved, this fic is so comforting and beautiful. I really love the quiet, ethereal atmosphere and how it shapes our perception of time and character development. Peter is beautifully written and their get together made my heart ache in peace.

• In the Morning by @cagestark (M, 6k, completed)

Summary: Peter's pretty stressed. He isn't understanding physics despite all the extra time he is spending with Bruce. And underneath it all, something is wrong with Mr. Stark.

Review: Heart wrenching and painfully honest fic, where Tony is a jealous mess and Peter is his usual earnest, sweet and good self. They meet in the middle, and it’s quiet, beautiful and sad.

• Kiss Me by @ironspi

Summary: Five times Peter and Tony almost kiss and one time they did.

Review: This fic was such a lovely surprise! It begins unpretentious and it builds up to quality pining and unresolved sexual tension. Chapter 4 is particularly awesome, so charged and intimate. Kudos to the author for exploring Peter taking the lead and making Tony melt in his arms.

• Landslide by spqr (M, 8k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Peter jumps into the quantum realm with his heart in his throat. He steps out in 2018, on the edge of a lake he still has nightmares about. A hundred yards away over the water, the lights in the lakehouse are on.

Review: Morally ambiguous characters + angsty time travel? Count me in. This fic has a very interesting (and darker) take on Peter post-Thanos, in his raw and desperate grief over Tony. Bonus points for amazing dialogues and a fix-it plot so clever and believable I’m surprised I didn’t see it on screen.

• lean on me now by @areiton (G, 9k, on hiatus)

Summary: He’s so tired, and he hurts, the kind of screaming pain he’s struggling to ignore now, and he wants to go home. But he can do this. He can sit and watch, and keep them safe. A wry smile tugs at his lips because he knows how ridiculous that sounds--a kid keeping Avengers safe.

Review: One of the best canon divergence fics I’ve ever read. It’s quiet, angsty and Peter’s voice is simply amazing. My heart breaks for Tony, but I’m so here for Peter & Rhodey’s brOTP, the fandom deserves more of it.

• noticing by @areiton (NR, 2k, completed)

Summary: “You deserve to be happy,” Rhodey tells Tony once, when Tony is drinking and conflicted and Peter is sleeping unaware on the couch. Tony watches him, eyes bright.

Review: How could I ever resist seeing Tony and Peter’s relationship development through Rhodey’s protective and thoughtful gaze? Any Tony stan should read this fic because this is the kind of love, friendship and support he deserves. Reading this put my mind at rest, knowing Tony’s cared for, and safe.

• Obvious by @learned-foot (M, 14k, completed)

Summary: When Peter wakes up, several things become very clear all at once: he’s underground somewhere unpleasant, something is messing with his powers, and his entire body hurts. A lot.

Review: WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP *victory dance* god this one is brutal, but we can trust LF to bring on full angst with an intriguing plot and A+++ characterization. I’m so here for protective!Tony doing whatever it takes to keep Peter safe, including all the confusion and heartbreak his problematic decisions may bring.

• Permission by @cagestark (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: During drinks with the Avengers, Peter admits that he enjoys orgasms more when someone is giving him permission, though since he's single, there isn't anyone in his life to offer it. Generous Tony offers to offer it.

Review: This fic is unique and so very hot, but don’t let the smutty summary fool you. There is also tenderness and FEELS in capital letters. Despite their arrangement, pining!Tony is so vulnerable and so completely in love with Peter it kinda breaks my heart a little, but thankfully Cage is a big fan of happy endings like me, so we’re all safe in her hands.

***Post-Endgame NYE by @darker-soft-starker (M, completed)

Summary: Five years after the events of endgame Tony is resurrected. Months after that, he's still trying to find equilibrium

Review: Hands down the loveliest ‘flirting on a bench’ I’ve ever seen, and my top favorite NYE Starker fic. I love to see Tony facing an existential crisis while he navigates his new life post-resurrection, including the violent realization of ‘oh no, Peter’s an attractive adult now’. Gentle and gorgeous get together, kudos at Morgan for being a little devil and playing matchmaking.

• Proxy by @cagestark (E, 11k, completed)

Summary: Peter wants to know if Mr. Stark knows, like, anybody who’d be willing to make out with him. Things escalate from there.

Review: I have such a big soft spot for this fic because “by proxy” is one of my favorite tropes and Cage explored it masterfully. Again, this is pining!Tony at his best and Cage just has this ability to transform what once started as a sexy little thing into this soft and gentle love story, the kind that gives you butterflies in the stomach.

• Radar by @intoxicatelou (M)

Summary: Peter could say that he’s officially approached desperation, but he wants this, wants Tony, and he’s willing to do everything it takes. Or the one in which Peter tries to become Tony's celebrity crush from 2009 in order to seduce him.

Review: This is one of my favorites self-indulgent fics, I just can’t resist the good old “Peter’s seduction handbook” trope and intoxicatelou delivers it beautifully. This story is sweet, super fun and relatable af. There’s A+ pining, Peter being a bisexual disaster and MJ being the queen we all stan, shocking absolutely no one.

• Revelations by RTC anonymous (E, 127k, completed)

Summary: “I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?” An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

Review: I feel like I don’t need to justify this choice – almost everyone in the fandom has either heard of or read this masterpiece, it’s safe to say this fic is part of the Starker Training Wheels Protocol lol. If you have just arrived or is just exploring the fandom and enjoys slow burns I suggest you start right hee because it doesn’t get any better than this. There’s A+++ characterization, breathtaking pining, insane sexual tension and a very satisfying ending if I may say so. Definitely among my top 3 Starker fics. RTC anon, wherever you are, please know you are loved and appreciated. I’ll literally build an altar for you.

• Reversal by @learned-foot (E, 4k, completed)

Summary: Sometimes, Tony is the one who needs to be praised.

Review: For once Peter makes Tony just lie down and take 😊 the fucking 😊 praise 😊. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this fic all my life. This is the praise kink Tony (and we all) deserve, genuine, gentle and powerful. If you’re a big sap for their love like I am, you’re in for an emotional ride because this is overwhelmingly sweet to the point it brings tears to your eyes. LF is such a gift to this fandom.

• Settling by @cagestark (E, 5k, completed)

Summary: Peter really wants to be taller than Tony. Heels help.

Review: One of my favorites by Cage, I still remember how happy and giggly I felt when I first read it. There is A+++ characterization, amazing dialogue, Avengers domesticity, praise kink, the hottest blow job and my favorite Starker first kiss. Oh, did I mention Peter in heels and Tony loving every moment of it? You’re welcome :D

• Stipulations by RTC anonymous (E, 70k, completed)

Summary: Peter Parker’s long term dream recently went from ‘get into MIT’ to ‘afford going to MIT’. As the time approaches, it’s dawning on him that he won’t be able to pay his tuition and afford the move to Cambridge all at once: he’s out of money, his secrets are beginning to pile up, and desperation has started creeping in... And then one night, he saves Tony Stark’s life.

Review: Another fandom classic by our irreplaceable RTC anon, this fic is SO GOOD I keep coming back to it and just recently I realized I’ve built all my personal Starker headcanons out of it, lol. A+++ characterization and hot, delicious pining is a given with this author, but I’m really here for that senses-dialed-to-11 trope, and RTC delivers it masterfully.

• subtle by @areiton (T, 1k, completed)

Summary: Peter is not subtle. He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore. It’s adorable and it’s Peter, and it’s—in hindsight—why Tony misses the context clues.

Review: This fic is like reading poetry, a balm to the heart. Peter wears Tony’s colors and by the time Tony finally gets the context clues they fall together in the gentlest, softest way.

• Take it slow by tuesday (E, 13k, completed)

Summary: There were a ton of reasons dating Peter was a bad idea. Tony loved bad ideas. He was going to do it anyway. In which Tony thinks they're dating, and then they're dating undercover.

Review: This fic is so endearing it’s basically impossible not to cheer for these two, despite their usual infuriating communication issues, lol. But I promise all the angst and wait are worth it, because there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing how they (finally!) get to be on the same page.

• the record spins on the trails we blaze by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 5k, completed)

Summary: Years after the events of Homecoming, Peter thought all of the bad memories were well and truly behind him. After all, so much has happened since then - and he's happy now. Everything is kinda perfect.Turns out nothing stays buried.

Review: Hell yes! I agree HoCo’s events were particularly traumatizing and this trope is not as explored as it should be. To put it simply, this fic is something I didn’t know that I needed and Ash delivered it beautifully. It’s incredibly gentle, cathartic and honest, not to mention the lovely domesticity and understanding between the characters that will make your heart swell.

• Under Someone Else by @learned-foot (M, 7k, completed)

Summary: Peter realizes he’s just a rebound. And he’s okay with that, really. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Review: FEELS, FEELS EVERYWHERE. It’s so hard to choose a favorite fic by LF but this is the first that comes to mind because it introduced me to the amazing rebound trope. It’s so refreshing to see this ship’s potential for angst and miscommunication playing into the “fuck first, talk later” scenario. Warning for vulnerable boys being idiots and breaking our hearts but P.P.P.S they do eventually get their shit together and it’s glorious!

• Up for Anything by tuesday (E, 8k, completed)

Summary: When it came to Tony Stark, Peter would take what he could get. In which Peter believes he's just a rebound. (Not Endgame compliant.)

Review: Of course there’s yet another gorgeous rebound rec because I can’t get enough of this trope. Honestly, LF and Tuesday writing for each other have provided some of the best fics this fandom has, God bless them. This is another treat featuring pining!Peter and the usual “I can’t communicate properly how much I fucking love you”, but there’s also bantering, delicious dirty talk and so much affection that you’ll read it all with the biggest smile on your face.

#starker #reclist #peter parker x tony stark

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peterpan-in-neverland · 4 years

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2020 Fanfic Roundup

I’m following the same format as @catty-words so if I did it wrong... well, you can guess who I will be blaming (love you, Cori). Anyway, here I go!

Total Word Count of 2020: 112,490

Total Hits of 2020: 16,321

Other 2020 AO3 Stats: KUDOS: 1,320 COMMENTS: 197 BOOKMARKS: 149

(just for comparison)

Total Word Count of 2019: 19,242

Link and Titles to Works of 2020:

[Law & Order: Special Victims Unit] Too Close (5,342 words) - post “A Midnight in Manhattan” Amanda and Sonny discuss things she thought they would never bring up

[Never Have I Ever] Never Have I Ever… Hooked Up With My Arch-Nemesis (4,834 words) - In which Devi wants Ben to shut the hell up after she finds out he got into Princeton

[Never Have I Ever] Anemoia (n.) (2,641 words) - Rebecca is much more than just Paxtons sister

[Never Have I Ever] Sonder (n.) (11,615 words) - Five times Ben and Devi realize the other is human, and the one time it changes things

[Anne With an E] Flashover (n.) (6,986 words) - Gilbert runs a flower shop that Anne visits once a week

[Never Have I Ever] Agnosthesia (n.) (1,530 words) - the order of things about Ben that Devi falls in love with

[Never Have I Ever] let there be damage ensued and tabloid news (5,806 words) - five times Ben realizes Devi is beautiful and the one time she realizes he is beautiful, too

[Never Have I Ever] and that kind of love (2,391 words) - Paxton rescues a drunk Eleanor from a party

[Never Have I Ever] don’t expect me to play fair (5,049 words) - Eleanor is getting anonymous flowers after every performance on her first Broadway show.

[Never Have I Ever] Ecstatic Shock (n.) (6,669 words) - Eleanor tries to have a simple rebound with a Tinder date that turns out to be Paxton Hall-Yoshida

[Never Have I Ever] Pâro (n.) (7,328 words) - Devi asks Ben to fake being her boyfriend for a party, and everything goes wrong

[Never Have I Ever] our coming of age has come and gone (7,566 words) - five times someone implied that Ben and Devi like each other, and the one time they admit it

[Never Have I Ever] tried to change the ending (5,012 words) - Devi looks back on the track of her and Ben's relationship

[Never Have I Ever] tossing pennies in the pool (4,585 words) - in the wake of Devi's breakup with Paxton, she attempts to figure out who she is

[Never Have I Ever] rock n roll is here to stay (4,132 words) - in which Devi considers Ben and herself

[Anne With an E] just think of the fun things we could do (5,722 words) - Anne reappears in Gilberts life

[Never Have I Ever] and why i’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words (16,724 words) - Paxton and Eleanor run into each other at the Sherman Oaks class of 2023 reunion

[Never Have I Ever] Worlds of Starlight (8,558 words) - in 1878, when Shadowhunters begin to go missing, Ben Gross' search leads him to the doors of the London Institute-- run by the Vishwakumar family-- where Mohan Vishwakumar has just vanished

Favourite Fic: I really really loved my Rebecca fic, but I am also a little weak for coming of age

Hardest Fic: Worlds of Starlight has been the most difficult to write, in terms of risks being taken and just plain cultural things-- writing for characters you dont share a culture with is really hard because of nuances and such-- and I also had a bit of a hard time with tabloid news

Do you plan to take prompts in 2021?

I would love to take prompts! Alas, I am bad at writing them and overall I am not a very popular person or writer-- all of my interactions on my work are because my friends list them on fic rec pages and they are all cool and popular blogs-- so people do not tend to come to me seeking custom works. It would be lovely, though! Perhaps I should make a post about which fandoms I will write for…

What was the best thing about 2020?

@catty-words @parkersedith @montygreen @feisties ← meeting them and tricking them into believing that I am worthy of their friendship and entrance into the writing squad

What was the worst thing about 2020?

Um… everything?

Any last thoughts for 2020?

Goodbye and thank you for NHIE

Goals for 2021:

Less fanfic related guilt (in terms of productivity)

Actually get some prompts and have good ideas for them

Posting my friends birthday fics on their actual birthdays instead of a million years late (or not at all-- sorry, my loves)

I want to finish Worlds of Starlight and maybe come of with a better name for it

Maybe break 150K? Or 200K? That would be neat. And garner some more appreciation for eleanor/paxton, obviously

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partnersatfazbear · 4 years

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Midnight Motorist - An Essay

I promised this awhile ago, but my thoughts on Midnight Motorist... This mini-game has literally kept me awake for hours on two separate occasions trying to figure it out, lol! So, reading the Updated Freddy Files *suggests, not confirms* that Toy Chica: The High School Years may be how William lured each child. I made notes on this, of course.

Although I listed who was used as a stand in for each, it has no bearing on the actual child killed.

The first, represented by Foxy, is already dead. I assumed this was a stand in for Norman/CC.

Second, represented by Freddy, was lured away with promises to help with homework.

Third, represented by Wolf. Run over their dog. We all know this is referring to Susie/Chica.

Fourth, represented by Toy Bonnie. It was suggested that their house be set on fire and then Chica uses her body to put out the flames. Best I could settle for this one was perhaps pulling a fire alarm at the restaraunt, or something similar.

Fifth, Funtime Foxy. Live hostages. Presumably luring a child away with promises that their friend / missing friend is in the back room.

Sixth, the Puppet. This one is the most interesting and why I'm including it here. Chica says "I'll come over to their house later, maybe break through a window, or set the house on fire and smoke them out [IIRC, I am paraphrasing a little]" The window, in my honest opinion, has to refer to Midnight Motorist. Scott has made a point of adding things in a following game to clarify the game before (starting at least since Sister Location). With the other one referencing Susie and Fruity Maze, I think this theory holds up, although it doesn't really help solve Midnight Motorist I think it's very important to note. (William has as much of an obsession with fire as Henry, huh?)

Lastly, there is Pigpatch. It's implied William would have knocked out a child and told them he rescued them after being "kidnapped". I really like this one.

The number of victims adds up to the number of children: BV, Freddy, Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, Golden Freddy, and Puppet.

Now that that's out of the way, I feel this heavily implies the footprints outside the window in MM are William's. The feet match the Glitchtrap suit, which most of us assume is a prototype for Spring Bonnie. Not only that, but obviously the springlock suits wouldn't work in the rain. Second, if you take some logic to it and see Charlotte as the first victim (no suit, no hiding the body, developing MO) then this killing would be the start of his MO--kind of an "in-between" point where he's evolving. Now, as to who the people in the house are...

In my fic, I kept the general idea that it was William as mustard man (thank you MatPat, this is my fav name for our mysterious fellow). Mostly because despite the evidence listed there is still a ton of evidence supporting it:

Later That Night - this is the name of the game file for MM.

Rain - Due to the in-game rain and this title its heavily implied to be just after Charlotte's death.

Grey Text - Michael is the only one to have the grey text and has similarities to Chair Person. (Note: I think Matpat did point out the color is slightly different, but it's still grey.)

Purple Car - William is the only one seen with a Purple Car back in one of the mini-games (FNAF 2, IIRC). To further support this, the car is also seen as an easter egg in the Dreadbear DLC of Help Wanted (with purple headlights). This is probably the most damning evidence that Mustard Man is William, in my opinion... but then how do the footprints make sense?

In my fic, I explained it away as footprints from the evening before (it was the best I could muster at the time) but this is super weak :V So this kind of brings us to alternative theories. If it is William, the supporting evidence is... good evidence of that. So, the other options are:

A Child Victim's Family - This is my second favorite theory because I think it could possibly work for, say, TOYSNHK [The One You Should Not Have Killed, hereby pronounced Toy-Shnuck] (who I made Cassidy). The problem with this is the child's gender is referred to as male. And there's a huge debate on Cassidy being female in game lore and TOYSNHK/GF being male. It IS a gender neutral name and wouldn't be the first time Scott changed a gender (see: Puppet), BUT it's pretty weak since all the info we have on TOYSNHK is recent. It could be another child that isn't Susie, though, but why show some random child as opposed to an important one? PizzaSim's games all revolve around specifics like Puppet (the first to die overall) and Susie (the first to die of the main five).

Henry is Mustard Man - This is the theory my wife likes. I can sort of see it and I even considered it at one point, but there isn't much evidence to go on. Why is the car purple is the biggest wrench for me. I also have problems with Mustard Man's attitude ("This is MY house", "He'll be sorry") Even if Henry was torn up about Charlotte, I can't see him treating his kids this way. This would also heavily imply the missing window kid to be Sammy, which hasn't been referenced in the game lore at all. He was barely mentioned in the novel trilogy, even. This also makes Gray Text either Aunt Jen or Henry's wife. There's just not enough to support this, in my opinion.

UPDATE 5/28/21 - Please see this post analyzing Fazbear Fright’s story “What We Found” for a more detailed look at what I’m about to explain that supports the Henry theory: Also from the books, CC / Norman is now referred to as Evan.

For this to work, we must assume Henry is an alcoholic after Charlotte’s death. I think the “later that night” evidence becomes somewhat irrelevant, because if this was the night of Charlotte’s death it wouldn’t really make sense. Part of me wondered if it took place after FNAF 2′s Springtrap cutscene, but the footprints don’t match. It has to be Spring Bonnie or Glitchtrap. Also, Evan and Elizabeth have also died by this point because neither are seen in the mini-game in this theory. You also must assume, based on the story evidence, that Henry married / stayed with Mrs. Afton after William either “died” or they divorced--they had to have been together for an x amount of time as for Mrs. Afton to be living with Henry but also the fact that Mrs. Afton kept Michael and the purple car. Henry using William’s car wouldn’t be unheard of if Mrs. Afton kept the car and the house, I just don’t feel Henry would use it unless he had been using the vehicle awhile. This also explains the Bonnie-esque footprints outside since William would want to come get / visit his kid he’s [most likely] no longer allowed to see. He may even be taking Michael back to the FNAF 4 house (implying that the house we see in MM is Henry’s). Speaking of, if we assume William’s intentions are [likely] bad, he’s probably taking Michael back to experiment with the Funtime-Nightmares, if you believe this theory. I think this theory is probably true considering the random grave (which, in this context has no answer except a Twisted animatronic aka a Nightmare) AND because the blueprints in Sister Location SHOW the Nightmares on the display during Funtime Freddy’s repair, implying they are real and not imagined. This is also assumed to be punishment for Michael killing Evan. I think Michael goes WITH William because of his tumultuous relationship with a now mentally ill and drunkard Henry. Henry probably knows that William killed Charlotte and a common theme in some works is a parent seeing their child (or a murderer) in a child aka Michael reminds Henry of William, so he neglects him (which in itself wouldn’t be out of place for Henry, since he already wasn’t a very attentive parent).

The main issue with this theory is that it sort of assumes that CC was Michael and not Evan. I don’t think that’s the case, though.

While we're on this version, I also want to discuss evidence for the MM driver being drunk. Not only are you driving on the opposite side of traffic, the Files book explicitly states "crashing" into the secret road for the mini-game. Not that Henry couldn't be drunk, especially if he just found Charlotte dead, but... for me personally it seems a stretch. And I already mentioned the car.

William's Father - This is an interesting idea, but the foot prints kind of rule it out. At least there's an explanation for the car, though, right? Still, it doesn't explain the foot prints unless you assume maybe his father was more alike Afton than we thought. But then why bother showing us background on our killer so late with no pay off? I easily dismiss this theory.

A new theory, at least one I haven't seen posed yet:

Vanny - That's right. Vanny. What if she survived/lived? Some leaks even suggest she may be related to the Aftons. Mustard Man's color is similar to Princess Quest's heroine. It explains the footprints, but doesn't explain the car. This would make for a nice foreshadowing of Vanny, IMO, but it’s weak at best.

You know when Matpat discusses "that one puzzle peice that we're missing"? That's this entire mess of a mini-game. Don't get me wrong, the music is bawlin and it's fun to talk about, otherwise I wouldn't write about it, but it is undoubtedly FRUSTRATING.

What are your opinions?

I also wanted to point out some other interesting things from the Files book I haven't seen discussed: There is confirmation of two sets of gold suits. Not only is there the FNAF 2 phone call, but the text specifies between Spring Bonnie/Springtrap and Fredbear/Golden Freddy. IE: FNAF 4 suit is Springtrap but the one from Stage 01 is Spring Bonnie. This could be oversight, but... I don't think it is. I'm sure most of the fandom does ASSUME this anyway, but I felt it was worth noting. (In my fic, they are the same suit, but the second sets are upgraded after the original failures).

The poster behind Scraptrap. Nothing really interesting here, but there is an image of a building with two gargoyle (lion?) statues behind him. Presumably this would be a police station or Fazbear Fright. I just thought it was cool since I never noticed this in the image. My initial thought was this might be a reference to the hospital in Man in 1280, but that’s a stretch.

Jr's. This is the random building in Midnight Motorist in which Green Man says "gtfo" to our Mustard Man. I should mention I feel that is good evidence to it being William or Henry, depending what the building is. We can 100% say it is NOT a bar (in my fic, that's what I used, even though it doesn't make sense. I don't see a drunk person driving to a second bar so close to their home when they could have gone there initially, BUT then I am a home-drinker when I do drink, so I don't know the night life). The Files refer to it as simply "a restaraunt". Whether this IS a FNAF location (also referred to as restaraunts) or just some random eatery, it's something to contemplate. I am in the camp that it isn't FNAF 2, at least.

I have some other things from Fazbear Frights' Blackbird I wanna discuss, too, but I'll wait until the book is out to help you all avoid spoilers.

Now, this is all just my thoughts on it. Please don't take anything too seriously (as Scott says don't rack your brain on this, it's not worth it). I just think these are some points that haven't been discussed before.

Also, if you wanna read my theory on why Scraptrap is partly the Golden Freddy suit, I have that theory here.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk? <-- is that a dated reference? Probably.

#fnaf theory #fnaf theories #midnight motorist #updated freddy files #the freddy files #fan theory #fan theories #five nights at freddy's

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forkanna · 4 years

Link

WARNING: Very N S F W. Includes sisterly incest, cunnilingus, anal play, tickling, foot worship, and as you probably expected... food kink.

Notes: HAPPY CORONATION DAY! I've been hanging onto this since I posted chapter 5 both because I wanted to make sure it was just right, and I thought it deserved to be released on an important day in the fandom's history: the date Elsa was crowned Queen of Arendelle in 1844. (We know this thanks to some smart cookies on Reddit haha)

So I know this should technically be from Elsa's POV if I continued to follow the convention I set up for myself, but I decided to keep writing it as Anna. It's been her story from the beginning and it should end as her story. Plus it's an epilogue, so it doesn't have to follow the rest of the fic's format! So there! AHAHAHAHA… I don't know, I'm tired.

And YES, this is the end. No sequels, no Epilogues-To-Epilogues; the MSB grand finale. I know a lot of you may have not seen my mention of an epilogue in the notes for last chapter, so hopefully you'll see this! If any of you want to continue Elsa and Anna's story in your own spinoff fanfics, be my guest (but please credit me); otherwise, I consider MSB to be at its natural ending. Hope you all enjoy the last slice!

In all seriousness, thanks to everyone who has waited this long for what is essentially a one-off smutty fic about D*sney sisters to be finished. I owe so much to this story; it changed my life in a very literal, very unexpected way. Elsa and Anna's true love thawed my jaded heart and encouraged me to keep writing, even when I was sank deep in the darkness of a miserable life, and to explore who I am in ways I never felt brave enough to do. I'm in such a better place now than when this began. It's been a pleasure being part of this fandom, and hopefully I will continue to enjoy it for a long time to come.

Until we meet again,

Jessex

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

EPILOGUE

Min Søsters Bursdagsmadrass: Anna

~ Five Months Later ~

Okay, okay, not quite five months have passed since we saved our kingdom from my sister's magic. Closer to four-and-a-half. But the time has flown by so much that it feels more like a week.

Kristoff and Sven came galloping up to the gates just as we were exiting. The ice boy was a lot less shocked that I was arm-in-arm with Elsa than I expected; probably because he pretty much already caught us in flagrante delicto before. He tried to offer congratulations, and I gave him a big hug to cut through all that awkwardness.

Olaf showed up not long after. Well, we came across a puddle that used to be Olaf; I'd know that carrot nose anywhere. Before I could start sobbing, Elsa calmly created a little ice-flurry and rebuilt him as easy as if she were breathing; he was disoriented, but didn't take long to be back to his cheerful self, hugging us and congratulating us on figuring out that we belonged together. That made sense the more I thought about it. Seriously, why wouldn't our snow-baby always know his parents should stay together?

Naturally, there were a few people who came to the levee that didn't condone our love. I wish I could say differently. Most of them were either too afraid to speak out against us — probably because my sister was some kind of ice witch, that tends to make even the bravest of men need a change of underwear — or they were genuinely happy we were happy, and summer was back. But one or two tried to shame us. Didn't go well, considering we were the monarchy and surrounded by supporters. More insisted we needed a king, at the very least for the purpose of heirs. I tried to tell them that Olaf was our heir, which got a lot of weird looks, but Elsa insisted that it was our decision if and when we crossed that bridge. I guess that's why she's the queen, right? I mean, can you imagine me as the queen of Arendelle? No way!

Hans was tried and convicted of treason against the kingdom. I didn't even go; I didn't want to look at him again if I could help it. But I watched from the castle walls with my sister as they led him away to a ship bound for the Southern Isles. We figured his family would make sure the sentence was severe if they wanted to maintain a good trade partnership with Arendelle. Plus, we wouldn't have to deal with him still being in our home. Win-win.

We also shipped old Weaseltown out. He can peacock-strut and backstab on his own turf.

Everything flew by a lot faster after those first few days. Kristoff was our new icemaster general — totally a real title, thank you — and Olaf's cheery presence got everyone used to the idea of magic. The people slowly grew to accept that their queen had a queen of her own. At first, we tried not to be too open with our relationship, but even though everybody thinks of me as the free spirit, it was Elsa who decided we should begin taking walks through the kingdom, hand-in-hand. At first, we got a few stinkeyes, but little by little, they saw we were happy, and not hurting anyone with our taboo love, and… it just became normal, I guess.

Which is fantastic! I mean, if they didn't I would have bought a whole collection of lutes to start smacking them with, but that didn't turn out to be necessary. Good thing; a co-queen shouldn't brawl with her subjects. Looks kinda bad.

As we hit the middle of December and the weather was turning colder without my sister's influence, I started scheming. We had enjoyed four wonderful months of getting to know each other all over again. Even though I'm basically a big ball of libido, somehow Elsa convinced me that we shouldn't just start banging each other's brains out every day. How dare she! But I have to admit, having that sex-free courtship time was somehow a magic all its own.

Because we were behind. By thirteen years. I found out just how well-read my sister was, since she had ploughed through book after book when she wasn't trying to practice controlling her magic. That was something we had in common, since I was often equally bored; it turned out we had read a lot of the same books, and we could compare our thoughts and feelings about them over many, many cups of tea. She never did start talking to paintings like I did, but when I introduced them to her, at least she was bemusedly giggling behind her hand instead of openly mocking me, or telling me I needed medical attention. And we went horseback riding, and swimming, ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. Started going through our parents' things at last, painful though it was. Learned about the kind of adults we had become since we last knew each other as children.

And kissed, sure. Just because we didn't start rolling around in the bed sheets right away didn't mean I was going to let us be complete prudes.

However… my sister's birthday was fast approaching, and I knew I had to do something big. Maybe in a literal sense. So the scheming turned to plotting, and the plotting turned to planning. And then the plans got put in motion leading up to her big day.

~ o ~

"Alright, alright, Olaf! I'm going!"

"Sorry, Elsa, but there's no time to waste!" I could hear him replying to her from the other side of the door. I could just barely see her slippered feet and his snow stumps through the crack underneath. So weird doing that from the inside this time… "I guess. I've never had a birthday, but Anna told me this is your biggest one yet, and we got a schedule to keep!"

"Okay, little guy," she laughed at him easily. Even though I couldn't see, I could just picture her petting over his head. "Thank you."

"Yep! And oh, I was supposed to do something else, it was… yeeeessss! Anna told me I should 'get lost for the rest of the day'. So I guess my question is, does that mean until sundown? Or midnight? And how lost do I have to get? I can get lost just in this castle, it's so big, but she was pointing at the gates when she said it…"

"Tell you what. Why don't you go pay Kristoff and Sven a visit? That should be far enough."

"But I won't be lost if I know where I'm going," he told her in a patient tone, as if she were the one who was missing something instead.

"My mistake," she laughed fondly. "Just have a little adventure outside of the castle and we will see you in the morning."

"Okie-dokie! Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do! Or do, because you're not me, so you should be doing things I wouldn't do? Maybe? Especially if I'm going to be getting lost and you don't need to be lost. I don't know if that's exactly…"

He was still talking by the time his voice started to fade around the corner. The rest of the sentence was cut off by Elsa knocking on my door.

"Go away, Elsa," I called back at her in an exaggeratedly pouty tone.

"Anna," she sighed. "Yes, I know I was the one saying that to you for a decade of our lives, but this joke is starting to get a little old now."

"Whaaaaaat? No, I don't think so."

"It's officially old as of today. Now, may I come in, or will you be coming out?"

"Think we both already did that last part," I giggled. "Did you, um, prepare?"

"For the love of- yes! Though I don't know why, I let Gerda bathe me thoroughly, and now I am standing outside your door, scrubbed raw and regretting that I listened to her, because you are being a pain in the-"

She didn't finish that thought because I unlocked the door just then. But I didn't open it for her. I was too busy scampering across the floor of my chambers to stand by the bed, grinning from ear-to-ear like a loon. And don't judge, okay? I'd been planning this for a long time.

"Um…" The door creaked open, and one of her baby blues peered around the inside of the darkened room. The sun had already set, so it was only the moonlight and the single candle on my bedside table providing illumination. "A-Anna?"

"Please enter," I said in a pretentiously royal tone.

"Oh, your robe is like mine," she said with a small smile as she eased the door shut behind her.

"Yep! Silk, from the East! I mean, you fill yours out a little better — especially up top. But that's one of the gifts. And I figured, hey, might as well get one for me, too!"

Barely glancing down at the blue silk covering her sizable assets, she shook her head with a small laugh. "It's very nice, thank you. But I thought I told you I didn't want you to make a big deal about my birthday; we should be focused on the Yule festivities for the kingdo-"

"No, no, no," I teased her with a wave of my index finger, bouncing on my heels excitedly. "This is the first time in thirteen years I have been able to celebrate this with you. Give me this one, okay?"

"When can we stop saying the number thirteen and start really enjoying our lives again?"

"When it's been fourteen years. Now… can you take that robe off and hop up on the bed for me?"

Oh, that shrewd little smirk that blossomed on my sister's face. It was both breathtakingly beautiful and super sexy. She was all the time, anyway, but there were moments that it stood out a lot more. "Ahhhh. So that's what all this is about, is it? You think tonight we are going to break our courtship."

"Mmmmaybe. But even if we don't, I still want more with you tonight. If that's okay," I added hastily, fidgeting with my hands behind my back.

"I see." Elsa stepped forward to smooth her hands up and down the green silk covering my chest, teasing her fingernails over my neck. Definitely not making it any easier to stop my lady parts from launching a hostile takeover of my brain, I can tell you! "And… this is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah." Clearing my throat, I said, "And I understand why courting was important to you. And it's been great! Really, I loved getting to know you all over again, and we have been having so much fun. But… maybe just a little playing tonight? Please?"

As she glared across into my eyes, I brought my thumb and forefinger up between our faces, half an inch apart. That was all it took to make her burst out laughing.

"That little, hmm?" she finally chuckled as my cheeks burned. "Okay. I assume once I am in position, you will tackle me on this bed?"

"Yeah. Well, not 'tackle', but I'll join you. I just want you to feel how soft it is first."

That got Elsa's eyebrows raising in slight surprise. "Soft, hm? Did you get yourself a new bed for my birthday?"

"I dunno, did I?" I gasped. Hoping my acting skills were at least good enough to hide how excited I was.

Not quite. But at least Elsa hadn't fully figured out my cunning scheme. She pointed at my face and hissed under her breath, "There had better not be anyone hiding in here."

"Hiding? Wait, why would I stick anybody else in here and then tell you to take off your clothes?"

"How should I know? Sometimes you have a really strange sense of humour, Anna."

"Not that strange! Surprise creepy people sounds plain old mean!" But before she could say anything else, I placed a hand over my heart and raised the other one. "I do hereby solemnly pledge that nobody is going to jump out of the wardrobe at you. Or anything else like that."

"Fine, I believe you," she laughed as she stepped from her slippers and let the silk fall from her shoulders, exposing her smooth, pale back. Even now that we had been going for walks and rides, she was still white as alabaster, despite the alternating tans and sunburns I had.

"Mmm…"

"Again, my birthday seems to be full of gifts for you," she accused playfully with a little glance over her shoulder at me as she approached the bed, moving to climb atop it. "Little pervAAAHHH?!"

SPLAT.

Nope, I definitely couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around my middle and burst out into gales of laughter, shaking all over and trying my best not to fall down. "ELSA! Your face — you should see your face!"

"I'm- what is- ANNA!" my poor sister finally burst out as she slipped and slid everywhere, defiling all my hard work. "What is the meaning of this?! What IS this, where did- is this CAKE?!"

Cackling and bouncing up and down as I clapped my hands, I finally crowed, "YES! Isn't it incredible?! Doesn't it look just like my bed? I mean, it did before you jumped on it, but even still, the rest of it!"

God, she looked hilarious. I was laughing, but was doing my best not to actually point at Elsa while I did it. And anyone would have laughed; her face covered in so much chocolate and frosting, a huge chunk falling from her chin to splash onto her right breast even while she blinked at me in wonder. Never had our regal queen looked so un-regal.

"You… made… a bed-sized cake… just to play this prank on me." She scraped some of the frosting from her eyelids and flicked it away, turning slightly so she could kneel on the layers of confection. That only made me laugh so hard I snorted like a pig. "This is… I have no words. I literally have no words, I could never have anticipated this."

"Aww, don't be grumpy," I teased breathlessly as I got rid of my own robe, dropping it right next to hers. "Just because I got you good this time! You freaked out, it was the most amazing thing I've watched in my whole life!"

"Yes, well, the show is ov- Anna, what are you doing now? Don't tell me- are you going to jump into this cake with me?! That's insane!"

I hesitated. "Well… I was before you called it 'insane'…" But then I approached the edge of the bed, hands on my hips. No way was I going to chicken out that easily. "This wasn't just a prank. I really wanted to do this for you."

That finally got her to laugh, and when she started she found it hard to stop. I laughed with her, watching her slap her caked thigh a few times. But before I could join her on the bed, she suddenly breathed, "Insane… but beautiful. I've never seen a woman more lovely in the entire world."

My heart skipped over a beat, and I hoped she couldn't tell how hard my nipples were in the low light. "Ahhhhh, now you're just lying. We both know you own a mirror."

"Nice try," she laughed, biting her sugar-coated lip for a moment to weather my counter-compliment. Then she tilted her head slightly while asking, "Why? This is the strangest surprise I have ever received — and that includes that certain birthday of yours. But I can tell it means a lot to you, so could you help me…?"

Great. Now I had to actually face the music, and it was going to take a lot of exposing of feelings. So I took a deep breath before throwing my inhibitions to the wind... and letting my knees sink into the cake.

"That is so wrong," I groaned, feeling one of my eyes twitch.

"I know. But once you get used to it, it's… still wrong, but interesting." She was leaning slightly on one arm, moving her legs out to one side. Always so ladylike, even in a big mound of baked sweetness.

"So here it is," I sighed. "You and me, even when we were really little… chocolate was our soft spot. We could never resist it. And especially after my birthday, when we bonded over it again… I knew your birthday had to be something big, since I could finally celebrate it with you. Something that mattered to both of us. And fun! I thought fun was really important, too. Took me a while to figure out just how I wanted to do this, but once I had this idea, I just… I knew. This was the only thing that would be good enough."

Though she had been listening with a small smile, my last sentence wiped it away. Why? What did I say wrong? Her cake-slicked hand lifted to caress my cheek.

"Anna, anything would have been good enough. Even if this had turned out to be a normal bed, I would have been so happy. How much you spend, how much you plan these gifts, it's sweet but you don't have to go to so much trouble. Don't you know my favourite gift is you?"

My lips only got the chance to part very slightly — when she booped me. She booped my nose with frosting on that finger. The Queen of Arendelle, everybody.

"You little stinker." But her words kept me from retaliating. "You… you mean that, huh? That I'm enough?"

"I do." Her lips pecked mine. "You always have been. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to show you until these past few months. But now, I get to make up for lost time."

Sliding closer, I whispered, "Same here."

And that was as far as I could get before I was attacking her mouth. Elsa welcomed me gratefully, humming as she pulled my body closer. I knew she was getting cake all over me, but I had kind of resigned myself to that when I concocted this whole crazy scheme. Literally concocted.

Which was what she asked about next. "How long did this take to bake?"

"Oh, a couple of days. The trick was keeping the parts we already made fresh so they wouldn't spoil before we finished the rest of it. Kristoff helped me with that, grabbed me a few blocks of ice; normally I would ask you to do it with a little magic, but I mean, since it was a surprise for you that would have been pretty stupid."

"Yes, I suppose so," she giggled, rubbing her fingertips against each other experimentally. "Smooth frosting… buttercream?"

"Of course! And I wanted to add a bunch of berries, but then it wouldn't have looked like my bed, because I don't normally have a bunch of berries on it." While Elsa laughed again, I slipped my arms around her waist. "And yeah, I know you still think it's weird I wanted to be in a cake like this. Plus it's a big waste of food. But for just this one birthday, the first one since we reunited, I wanted to give you something so big it was literally all around us. Like we're part of the cake instead of just the other way around."

Her voice was so gentle and warm when she responded, "I believed you the first time, Anna. But thank you for elaborating. I love knowing how you think, how your mind works. My amazing, clever sister."

Again, we kissed, deeper and longer and with no inhibitions. We tried to restrain ourselves when we were out in public, of course, but alone in my room? Nobody looking over our shoulders? Free as wild horses.

By the time we came up for air, I was no longer the clean one because we had been rolling around in the cake-bed. Sure, I still felt guilty for putting the castle cooks through so much work just so we could wreck it, but at least Kristoff and I gave them a hand — and I gave them the day off once they were through. Anyway, basically the only places where chocolate and frosting hadn't accumulated multiple layers was our faces, because they were so close to each other that nothing could get in between them.

"Are we supposed to be eating any of this?" Elsa laughed, running her finger through some on my shoulder.

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't have done this if it was just for show; this might as well have been a big frosted mud pie." Then I held up…

"Anna, where could you possibly have been hiding that?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Elsa merely blinked at me for a few seconds until I caved. "Okay, I had it in my butt."

"What- that sounds incredibly painful!"

"No, no, I was just clenching my cheeks on the handle. Obviously! Like I used the handle outside your door that first time. Come on, do you really think anybody would stick the pointy part into anywhere that sensitive?"

"Well, it is you," she laughed as she reached for the fork. Our fork. "Though I suppose I admire the control you have over your muscles back there." Then she hesitated, her brow furrowing. I could figure out what was holding her back.

"I also took one of Gerda's very thorough baths," I informed her to put her fears at ease. Which made her finally take it with a slight shake of her head. "Oh — and I helped one of the servants mop the floor before we got started in here. Trust me, when I say you can eat off the floor, I really mean it this time."

"You really have thought of everything; such attention to detail. It's almost a little scary."

"Love makes you a little scary sometimes, I guess."

"I guess." Then she slid the fork through some of the cake that we hadn't already rolled in, bringing it up to my lips. "After you."

"Oh! Wait… you first, it's your birthday."

"Diving into it counted as me going first," she chuckled. "Besides, I tasted a little on your lips once they caught some from my lips. Go on." And since I had no argument against that, and she was looking at me with those bemused, insistent eyes, I took the bite into my mouth.

"Ohmyghob, ibzo goob!"

"Anna, manners." Which I could appreciate the irony, since there were very little manners involved in rolling around in a giant cake. Probably. Maybe they do that more often in Corona…

"You have GOT to try this," I gushed once I had swallowed, grabbing the fork and scooping up another big bite for my sister.

"Can't I have a different fork?" But I wasn't budging. And she knew how important that particular utensil was to the both of us. "Gerda bathed you the same way she bathed me, didn't she?"

"It was like standing in a geyser."

"Fine." She accepted her first proper bite. Her blue eyes slid closed in ecstasy as she hummed her approval, eventually nodding after she had chewed for a moment.

"Amazing, right?" All she did was nod, raising a hand to give the okay symbol. So I helped myself to another bite, clutching my hand to my chest as tears welled up in my eyes.

Seriously, it was that good. Best cake I ever had in my life, up to and including the one with my sister's extra frosting.

"Okay," Elsa panted a couple minutes later when we had eaten our fill for the moment. "I was teasing you before, but I take it all back; I do want to live here and sleep here."

"Surrounded by layers of chocolatey goodness?" I giggled as I flopped onto my back, spread eagle in piles of sweet perfection. It was like Heaven, or Valhalla or whatever you believe is the good afterlife.

"Exactly. Fun and function." I glanced over to see she was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow so she could look down at me with a smile full of so much affection that my heart skipped a beat. "So very you."

At first all I did was chuckle a little and smile up at her. But then when she leaned down to kiss my chest, I let my eyes fall closed as a little sigh escaped my lips. "Mmm…"

"You were after something like this, I believe?"

Opening my eyes again, I was just in time to see her tongue slide across the meat of my right breast, the one closest to her. The track of freckled skin she revealed by cutting through the chocolate confection gleamed from her saliva, and it was somehow both offensive and arousing at the same time.

"Y-yeah. Something like that." I cleared my throat and caressed along her back, through cake and hair. "But you don't have to. If that whole courting thing is so-"

"We can take a break," she interrupted with an impish smile. "One night, for both Yule and my birthday. And for you, because I know how hard it has been to keep your hands off me."

A blast of air exploded from my lungs as she licked again. "HAH! W-wow, somebody's conceited in here, and I think her name rhymes with… with, uh…"

"With what? Jelsa?"

"No, that's not a thing."

I was still trying to think of a rhyme for her name when she found my nipple, and my squeal blasted every thought out of both of our minds. My chest was a feast for my sister for the moment as my conscious thoughts faded, simply letting her enjoy me. Because I enjoyed it just as much. A few times, she hit the nerves just right that I twitched, digging my nails briefly into her back and making her hiss in response. Some extra added fun.

Then she started moving down my stomach. I knew where she was going; this wasn't our first time trying this particular activity. But the butterflies were as fresh as ever, and my thighs tried to trap her head there.

"Oh, not tonight?" she purred.

"Reflex," I panted shortly, trying not to laugh at the cake all over her face now. Because even though it was funny, it also wasn't… since she was about to go to town on me.

Oh, she did. She really, really did — and it blew my mind so much more this time, somehow. Maybe it was because for the past few months, I only had that fork handle for company in my bed. Being pent up and needy tends to make the release ten times stronger, you know.

"Elsa!" I whined after a few hours. Okay, it was probably a minute or two, but it felt like so long! "You're really… how did you… get this good?!"

By the time she came up for air to answer me, she was gripping my ass cheeks to hold my pelvis closer to her face. "You're worth trying my best for, Anna. And… I may have practiced on an ice-replica." When I laughed at that, a frosting-smeared eyebrow arched. "Ooh…"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Your backside is so firm, and I felt it flexing in my hands. Powerful."

"Y-yeah, I exercise a lot. Could probably pick up a gold coin with it."

"Really?" I felt her poking around back there, and I clenched — again, reflex. "Wow. Do you think… you could squeeze this?"

Before I had any chance to ask a question or protest, I felt a finger sliding between my cheeks. What in the fjord was Elsa doing?! It felt wrong, and disturbing… and hot? Was it hot somehow?! Maybe, but only because it was her, and she had already been going down on me, I'm pretty sure; if anybody else had tried that, especially when I wasn't already chomping at the bit to get off, their hand would be kindling for the fireplace in the corner.

So don't let anybody tell you Elsa is a prude who would never do anything like that. That whole regal facade is just a smoke screen. She can get just as wild as me.

"Wow, your muscles really are strong," Elsa breathed in honest surprise, not just teasing me. "I'm impressed."

Freya, I tried so hard to hold it together. To control my reaction. But as she dragged her finger back from my crack, brushing the little forbidden spot that I had been trying not to think about, I shivered and let out a little moan. Dooming myself.

"Anna?"

"Yes! I m-mean, hello, yeah, you can… you can start back in on the goods now! Remember my goods? Right there in front of you?"

"No, wait. Did you enjoy…?" Probably trying to spare me some embarrassment, she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she raised her frosting-covered finger and flexed it in my field of vision.

"Oh, did I really get cake in there, too? Sheeze, we've really been going crazy!"

My nervous laughter made it way too obvious I was just trying to distract my sister. Why was I so bad at that sometimes? She looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then glanced at the finger, then back at me.

"Anna-"

"Please, can we not-"

"Anna, it's okay. If you want me to leave that alone, I will; I was only asking how you felt about it. That's all."

Though her words didn't dial back my embarrassment, it soothed away the anxiety spike. "Oh. Well… no, I didn't mind that much. Not really. It's just because… like, after all you've been doing to my clit and tits, I'm kind of sensitive… everywhere. So it was pretty interesting, but I would never ask you to do it again! That's too big a favour!"

Elsa thought that over for a moment, and I finally started to relax. Then she kissed my inner thigh. "Just relax, my love. My Lord Anna." I groaned, thinking back to the coronation ball. Even though it all worked out okay. "I'll take care of you. And all you have to do is ask, and I will stop or change what I am doing. You can always talk to me, alright?"

"Okay," I said, completely relieved. My queen was so sweet to me, always taking care of me as much as she could. Making me feel safe.

Well, I did feel a little less safe when she started kissing closer to my behind. And then when I felt two thumbs pulling the cheeks apart, I wriggled all over and gasped out, "WHOA! Elsa, are you- you're not gonna-"

"Just going to try to get the cake in here," she laughed softly. "Unless you have objections."

Did I? The whole thing was too weird to have any objections. And while I was still trying to come up with one, I felt that wriggling tongue press somewhere I had never wanted or needed it to go. Was Elsa really doing this? She really didn't mind? We did enough wrong and taboo things already that this just seemed like one step too far! But the way she was going at my ass suggested she didn't agree.

And it was… different. Not good, not bad; just unsettling even while it was stimulating. When she was still at it a minute later with no signs of stopping, one of my hands started trailing the handle of that trusty fork down my stomach. Maybe, if I could take care of the main attraction, a little sideshow in the back room wouldn't be so bad.

"Mm?" she hummed, tongue still sliding over my taut skin. She must have seen my fingers moving, because she drew back with a chuckle. "Oh, did you need me to move along?"

"Y-yeah, Elsa, I… we could try that again later, but right now I'm…"

With a solemn nod, she went right back to going down on me. Who could complain about a girlfriend like that? Just takes care of my needs without any complaint. What an angel.

"Oh ffff- MMM!" Yeah, I had to scream into my hand to let out some of my energy. Luckily, it wasn't the one holding the fork or I might have stabbed myself in the face. A minute later, I gasped, "Elsa! I'm almost there! Almost there!"

My sister did not slow down until I actually was there. It felt like she had six tongues instead of two — which she might actually have been able to pull off if she used her ice powers, but I didn't feel her mouth get any colder. I came so hard and shook all over, and the whole time Elsa just held onto my hips and devoured me like I was the best cake she had ever tried. Which was probably how she felt.

Once my heat faded, she lowered me into the cake again and smirked. "That happened awfully quickly for someone who didn't like me playing with her a little lower than usual."

"Y-yeah! Well… you… let me get pent up for multiple months!"

"That is fair. I hope my apology was satisfactory."

Pretending to think real hard about it, I screwed up my face and tapped my chin. Elsa laughed. "Weeeeeelllllllllll… on one condition."

"What condition?" She started when I moved to pin her to the bed. "Oh!"

"This one." My chosen target was her neck. She shivered a little when I ran my tongue along it, enjoying the rich chocolate mixing with the light purity of her skin. I wanted to eat Elsa whole.

"Anna… you… make it hard to breathe."

"Elsa…"

"N-no, I… I'm really-!"

With a shock, I realized she meant the way my hand was pushing into the middle of her abdomen. "OH! Shit, Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" As she took a deep breath, I caressed her side. "Better? Man, I am just really dumb sometimes…"

Elsa pulled me down into her embrace. "We already covered that. You are not dumb. You have never been dumb."

"You sure? I mean, not that I'm trying to argue with you, but you keep saying that and then I keep doing dumb things."

"Because you're excited. I am, too; I've just had a lot more practice... controlling myself."

For good reason. But since she wasn't judging me, I pushed myself back up to begin devouring the cake covering her ribs and stomach. She giggled a couple of times, and I smiled at the way her abdominal muscles flexed under my lips, bumping up against my nose. I could have kept eating off her and exploring her for hours and never got bored. Not once.

"Mmhhh, this really is so good," I sighed as I got closer and closer to the finish line. "The cake, you… who could ask for more?"

"I'm glad you… approve." But I could tell she was nervous. Why? It's not like this was the first time we had done anything like this; just the first in a little while.

"Elsa?" She didn't answer right away. Watching her bite her lip and look anxious was cute, but I still prompted her, "Hey. You okay?"

"What? Oh… yes, I'm fine." My face must have looked extra unconvinced, because a second later, she relented. "I'm still a little afraid of losing control of my powers when I…"

"When you what? Oh, wait, you're- right, got it, you don't need to explain. But hey, even when you've done that before, all you did was give me a little extra blast of snow. I don't mind a cold cake."

Tittering the slightest amount, despite the fear in her eyes, she reached down to run her fingers through my sugar-matted fringe. "Neither of us do. And I know you're probably right, but I can't help but worry I will hurt you for a third time. I don't think I could take that."

"Me, either. But you won't. I hear you, I do, but I know you have a handle on this now. You've been doing so good! Nobody in Arendelle is scared of you anymore. So just… let me do the magic this time."

That was that. Even though she was still biting her lip, her brow still creased, she didn't protest further as I kissed the inside of her thigh, devouring the frosting I found there. But I still didn't like that she was wound up so tight. So I figured hey, why not try to loosen her up?

"So, if I get a couple of fingers in you and really start going to town… does that make this pound-cake?"

Oh, now she looked mad. I barely had enough time to register the movement before her foot was pushing into my face, trying to shove me off the bed entirely.

"Hey, whoa whoa, Elsa! Come on, I'm sorry!"

"Why don't I believe you?" she demanded in a would-be stern voice. The answer might have been because I was laughing up a storm. But I caught sight of her smile, which told me she was just trying to mess around with me. One of the many things I had been missing over the past thirteen years.

"Truce! I'll keep my corny jokes to myself if you don't shove me the rest of the way off this bed!" Really, I already had to whip one leg back and brace against the floor to keep from falling as it was. But she slowly began to relent. "Thank you."

"I ought to put my finger back in your 'fork holder' for that one," she grunted.

"It was one time! I don't go around carrying forks back there all the time, you know!"

"Actually, no, I don't know that. Because I never inspect the back of your dress when you are casually walking down the halls."

"You could, though…" As she just shook her head at me, I decided to get a little more playful.

"AH! Not my feet — don't bite my feet, you know how ticklish iyyyahahahhaaaa!"

Too late. My teeth were nibbling all over her chocolatey toes in retaliation for almost being knocked on my butt. The way she began kicking was extremely dangerous, but at least now my childhood memories were intact; I remembered learning by watching our father that you had to hold her leg steady when you tickled her, or you were asking for an eyeful of flailing heel.

"STOP!" she cackled. "I'm- I am about to ruin this cake! Anna!"

Right away, I broke off with a laugh. No matter how much fun I was having, it wasn't worth ruining an entire cake-bed by making her wet herself. "Okay, okay. Yellow frosting is as bad as yellow snow, I guess."

"You… monster!" But she was still laughing a little, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in an attempt to regain her breath. Which looked like she had been doing something else.

Flawless. I was head over heels, alright.

"Sorry. But do you know how cute you are when you get tickled?"

Clearing her throat, she pushed up onto her elbows before answering me. "That is… because I didn't get to run around outside the way you did. Not after my ninth birthday. So my feet are…"

Oh. Well that was a sad reason for them to be extra sensitive. But I decided to simply kiss the one I had been attacking and say, "Perfect. You were gonna say 'perfect' right? Because that's the only answer I'm accepting right now."

Shaking her head a little at me, she let out an exasperated sigh that was followed by a small smile. "You're too kind to me."

"Nah. Just know you deserve the best."

Again, I kissed, and she hummed as her smile grew. When my lips parted to let my tongue slide between two of her toes, she rolled her eyes and pulled her foot away. "Fine, I get it, you love every inch of me."

"Glad we got that straightened out. Now, I have my eye on a couple of pastries… one sec."

Her hand raised up to rest on the back of my head when I attacked her chest. I figured she would probably appreciate having some time to recover before I went back between her thighs. The sounds floating out of her lungs were every bit as enthralling as if I had gone straight for the crux of her thighs, of course, but at least this way I could enjoy my cake a little longer.

"You are… so persistent." I switched to the other peak, my hand wrapping around the mountain below and kneading just enough to add pressure and pleasure without causing pain. "Mmmhh, and I almost want to ask if you have been practicing on someone else!"

"Maybe I made an ice-replica," I shot at her as I moved back down. Her grin was so huge. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's do this."

"You make it sound like you're about to go cliff-diving!" she laughed.

"Oh, I am. I'm about to dive down deep into your sound."

Elsa's lips parted, probably to reprimand me for another corny line. But all that came out was a moan when I pressed my mouth tightly against her soft folds through the frosting and chocolate. And I intended to clean every speck of that from her by the time I was finished.

My Elsa. My queen of snow and ice, grace and beauty and power. The only woman in the world. My mind and heart were full of desire for the goddess I was making writhe with my every teasing touch. And it wasn't just that she was the most beautiful girl in Arendelle, not that she had given me an orgasm so recently. This was about way more than repaying a debt or physical beauty; it was my sister. The one person who had always been a part of me, and who always will.

"A-Anna!" she gasped — well, she had been doing that for a couple of minutes, but this one was louder and stronger. Somehow, I just knew what she meant. "I'm… I'm still scared! I love you!"

I loved her, too. But I wanted to show her in some way besides slowing down to tell her with words. So I moved one hand from her hip to push our fork into hers, which had been clutching uselessly at another pile of birthday cake. And wow, did she respond! My hand was caught with the fork between our fingers, and it was such a tight grip that I felt like she would never let me go again.

Which did as much for me as I might have been doing for her.

There was more snow this time. Somehow, I had kind of expected that; I mean, when you tell an ice witch that she shouldn't hold back with her power, you're going to get more power. Makes sense, right? But even while I was still feeling her flesh pulse against my lips and tongue, her juices running down my chin, tiny pinpricks of cold were dusting my back in the spots that weren't covered by chocolate.

"Oh," I panted when I finally came up for air, satisfied that she no longer needed little licks for little aftershocks. "Snow! See? I told you everything would be fine. And this isn't even that bad!"

Though of course, we were both looking around at the winter wonderland filling the room. It was only a couple of inches deep, but spread over that large an area it still added up to a decent amount.

"It's… a lot," she panted. "But at least there aren't any… nothing dangerous."

Scoffing, I crawled up to lay my head on her shoulder, curling my entire body around hers as tightly as I could. Needing to be that close to her now. "Dangerous? You? Come on, you're a big pussycat."

"We both know… that's… a stretch." Finally, she cleared her throat and simply took in a couple of deep breaths so she wouldn't be so winded. Then she turned to look into my eyes with a smile full of afterglow and affection. "Thank you. For that, for all of this; for my perfect birthday night."

"Yeah. You got it. I'm always going to show you how much I love you, no matter how big I have to go to get the point across."

"Anna, you don't have to. I already know." We shared a firm kiss. Then she crinkled her nose. "Oh, that's… did you really enjoy me adding that to your cake? It's so strange."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if I didn't know what it was," I admitted with a giggle. "But knowing? Oh yeah. Totally hot."

"If you say so." Then she suddenly looked horrified. "Oh no — my lips have- you were kissing-"

"All I tasted was Sister-Queen and cake," I headed her off before she actually said it out loud. "Don't have to make it even more gross. Seriously, you didn't run away from my butt? I thought that would be a fate worse than death!"

"No, no," she reassured me, completely contented now that we had both enjoyed ourselves and could relax. "I wasn't lying for your benefit; it wasn't that bad. Especially when mixed with chocolate cake. Though I agree with you about my essence on this subject; probably wouldn't have enjoyed it not knowing what it is, or by itself. Well…"

Running my index fingertip in small circles on her stomach, I prompted, "Well?"

"I could try it by itself. Maybe. Someday."

"Go ahead. I won't… well, I might judge a little, but since we're already sisters who knock boots, it's not gonna hold a lot of water."

"Mmhmm. I suppose that's a valid point."

"Ohhhhh, I just wanna lay here forever!" I burst out as I curled even harder around Elsa, and she laughed again, nuzzling into my hair. "Though I do have another bath ready in the next chamber. I'm no doctor, but it's probably not the best idea for us to leave cake in some of the places we have cake right now."

Nodding, she whispered, "In a minute. This is so comfortable. Actually, I'm surprised we're not sinking all the way down to the floor."

"Oh — yeah, that's because we took a bed-sized wooden box and made the cake on top of that. Like, it's pretty much a bunch of little cakes smushed together in a grid pattern to make one huge sheet cake, and then we just put the icing all over it and down the sides with the right colours and patterns. So it looked like a real bed, with a quilt and all."

"Clever," she chuckled, scratching at my rib cage just enough to prompt a giggle from me before she stopped. "Really, I was flabbergasted at first, but now I really admire all the work you did for this. Because it turned out to be a lot of fun."

Her praise made my heart glow. "It did, didn't it? Chocolate cake slumber party. Go me."

We both fell into the kind of comfortable silence you can only have with family. Lover, sister, friend… Elsa was all of those things to me. And we had beaten all the odds and found our way back to each other, and we were alive, and our lives were wonderful. There wasn't much else I could ask for.

"I love you, my Anna," she breathed into my hair before rolling over to prop herself up on her elbow and look at me. I mirrored the gesture, gazing into her eyes.

"Love you, too, Majesty. And I always will."

Elsa kissed me hard and long, and held me close for such a long time that time itself ceased to hold meaning. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill anniversary of being born, but I finally knew: what we had? Different-good. The best kind of different a princess could ask for.

~ Takk for Reisen ~

#Min Søster Bursdagskake #cake fic #min soster bursdagskake #forkanna writes #elsanna fanfiction #elsanna fandom #elsanna #jess the writer #the cake fic

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 12: Definitely Broken Something

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 12. There are certain things about his time on Dragon's Edge that Hiccup doesn't want his father to know. The Dragon Riders think otherwise and what is supposed to be an effort to help their friend leads to friction instead.

NOTE: Nothing explicit happens in the fic. The non-con elements are referenced and implied, little is stated literally.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut

Pairing: None

Words: 3 151

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: "Broken Down” + “Broken Trust”

Whumpee: Hiccup + The Gang

Author’s Notes: Kinda nervous to post this one because I don't really delve into this particular territory. That and a little nervous that Hiccup will be way too out of character.

Also had to choose between this idea and another one that also involves the Riders breaking Hiccup's trust, but I think I'll be writing that one someday in the future.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Extra Author’s Notes: What Astrid is talking about is actually a reference to a previous fic of mine that I wrote a long time ago by now.

It talks about the event during Midnight Scrum that is brought up in this fic.

Ao3: Actual Fic

Ao3: Midnight Scrum Fic

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"So, we're really doing this?" Tuffnut's question hangs in the air as an uncomfortable silence weighs on the shoulders of ever Rider present in the clubhouse. That being every Rider except for Hiccup, who is up in his forge and not a part of this conversation.

He doesn't even know they're all gathered here, believing them to be doing their own thing.

Toothless, however, has taken a brief break from his human to be present. There are certain concerns the Dragon Riders have that they wanted to discuss. And with their close bond, it seems right to have him here as well.

The Night Fury looks almost uncannily human the way he's sitting on his hind legs, his forelegs crossed on the table between the six of them, and his head resting on top of them.

He doesn't like being here, but after the past week, he agreed to come when Astrid managed to tear him away from Hiccup.

A week ago, they'd been captured by Viggo. It was one of many times, too many times, more then they'd like to admit. And just like with every other time they've been at the hands of Viggo Grimborn nowadays, Hiccup tends to be affected for days afterward.

They all are in one way or another, of course. Being captured, having your friends captured with you, and not know what's about to happen to any of you is a terrifying thing. Despite their tendency to survive the unsurvivable and get out of every nasty situation, they get in somehow, getting captured is something that will never stop being a scary thing.

But once they get out, what they usually suffer from the most is a hurt pride, a sleepless night or two, a feeling of powerlessness that is soon overtaken by the need to do better and finally best the Dragon Hunters once and for all.

And then there is Hiccup and the way he behaves after a private audience with the Hunter Chief himself because Viggo rarely lets him stay with his friends. Whenever he gets his hands on him, he never fails to separate Hiccup from them.

Whatever goes on when the door to Viggo's cabin closes is a gap in their knowledge that only their imagination can fill. And seeing the way Hiccup acts afterward, what they imagine isn't nice.

He jumps at shadows, he's so tense you can see his muscles growing stiff from being overworked. The natural way the Dragons and Riders alike touch each other is no longer wanted. At least, no longer from the latter. One time it even got to the point that Hiccup was reluctant to let Fishlegs take a look at a rather nasty bruise on his side that worried them, not wanting to be touched by anyone. That he refuses to speak about anything that happens when it's just him and Viggo doesn't sit well with them either.

This time it's particularly bad as he's barely getting any sleep, he's not eating, he keeps looking over his shoulder, and he's well on his way to work himself to death. The worst part about this? This isn't even the worst Hiccup's been.

There is this one moment, it happened after Hiccup had been kidnapped for the bounty on his head, Astrid only knows about it because Heather told her and then she ended up telling the Riders. They don't like to even think about it.

So the Riders have decided that enough is enough and that is why they have gathered here tonight. For Hiccup's well-being, they have decided, unanimously, to tell Stoick.

Hiccup doesn't want his father to know and he's not going to be happy when they tell him, but they feel like they have little choice.

The Viggo obsession was already bad enough, but with every capture, Hiccup is worse off. It's gotten to the point that Hiccup would rather choose death than be captured again if he had been given a choice.

That is a terrifying thought. So naturally, they want any and all help they can get to keep that from happening, and who better to help than Hiccup's own father?

They've discussed this decision, quietly, they've come to an accord, and now they sit in silence while the past half an hour slowly sinks in.

Tuffnut's question; "we're really doing this?" are the first words spoken in the past five minutes. That they have been quiet for that entire time is an accomplishment for a group as talkative as theirs.

There is no answer because they all know that it remains the same. They are doing this. Stoick might not take it well, Hiccup certainly won't appreciate it, but they are still doing this. They have to. For Hiccup's sake, they have to.

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They told him. They told Stoick the Vast the one thing his son has been keeping from him. It went... better than they expected it to go.

They'd expected him to shout, to scream, go on an angry tirade about Viggo Grimborn and his son and about what he would do to the former for hurting the latter.

Instead, Stoick had sat there in his chair and listened to every word they had to tell him. He was strangely calm, more than they would ever imagine him to be. Considering his temper and his love for his son, it was truly bewildering to see him take everything so... well?

That is the only word they can use for the way their Chief reacted to the information given to him. And it wasn't even given to him by his son, but by his son's friends a little over three hours ago now. Although, it could very well be the calm before the storm that they dealt with. The shock may have even kept him from taking it all in, maybe it all still needed to sink in.

When he dismissed them, though, Astrid had taken a look back to find the mountainous man sink in his chair. The news had hit hard, despite Stoick's calm reaction, and he'd covered his face with a big hand as he seemingly and quietly collapsed.

They're all in the former Dragon Academy now.

"You know, I think he took it well." Snotlout breaks the silence as he brushes Hookfang's scales. Nightmares can set themselves on fire on command due to their flammable saliva, which coats their entire bodies. It helps to get old gel off their hides so an entirely new layer can take its place. The dragon is thoroughly enjoying this pampering.

"Yeah, I suppose. Stoick usually gets so angry so easily, I was afraid he would explode right then and there." Fishlegs responds, thinking back to how nervous he'd been before the talk. He's sitting on a stool with Meatlug's saddle on his lap as he polishes it and keeps the leather fed.

"I think what we really need to worry about is him exploding on Hiccup." Astrid joins in on the conversation as she helps Stormfly preen. It goes a little quiet again after that. For at least a good couple of moments.

"But he won't, right? Stoick knows none of that is Hiccup's fault, so he won't get angry! Right?" Tuffnut asks hopefully. His sister shares his worries.

"Well, only one way to find out," Ruffnut speaks up as well, voice going softer as her eyes fall on the gate leading out of the dragon training ring.

They all look over and see Hiccup coming down with Toothless following close behind. Just from the way he walks they can tell he's angry.

The Dragon Riders share a look and the Riders approach to meet him halfway, hearts pounding with anxiety. They've dealt with Hiccup angry before, but they can tell from his expression that this is something entirely different.

"Hey Hiccup, did you see your-"

"Oh, I saw him alright. Went in right after you guys left, which I thought was suspicious because what was your business with my father? Can't believe I was actually right to be worried, you guys... you guys... I believe any of you!" Hiccup cuts off whoever it is that attempts to talk to him, something he already doesn't do often. His voice trails off after it is already threatening to rise in volume and the pacing starts.

The Riders share another look. This already doesn't look like it's going to be pleasant, but hopefully, it won't be too bad.

"He interrogated me for the past three hours! Three hours! Asking ridiculous things like "what did he say?", "has he ever made you feel a certain way", "did he touch you?", "did he ever try to force..." Hiccup's fists tighten at the mention of the questions he needed to endure. He's angry. He's so, so angry. He throws his fists down, frustrated with the lack of relief.

"Thanks a lot for that, by the way. For not just breaking my trust, but telling my dad of all people!" He stills as he gives them his false gratitude, glaring at them. The kind of questions his father asked him over and over and over again... Sometimes he just used a different kind of wording to still trick him to get a confession out of him.

"Did he ever make you do things against your will?"

"Did he ask for certain things in trade?"

"How far did he get?"

It's all too much for him to bear. His dad was never supposed to know! His friends were never even supposed to know.

He has to pace, he's too restless to stand still.

It's humiliating, that's what it is. This is something between him and Viggo. His father has no business knowing any of this. And so it turns out, neither do his Riders.

"We're breaking your trust?" Fishlegs asks, hating the sound of that. If there is something even worse than disappointing Hiccup, it's tainting his trust in you.

Hiccup briefly looks at him, contemplating if he should answer.

This is, was, a purely private matter. There is such emotion in his eyes, tears mixed with boiling anger. The former he refuses to show. They can all see the tension in his face as he tries to hide them.

"I can't believe that you guys would conspire against me like that!" He tells them with a finger up in disbelieve, his voice unnervingly soft.

The Riders' eyes nearly bulge out of their skulls.

"Conspire?!"

"Why phrase it like that?"

"Hiccup, we aren't doing this to hurt you."

The amount of protests almost makes it impossible for anyone to hear what anyone is saying and who's saying it.

"Than tell me why it feels that way? This was private and I told you guys to leave it alone, that I would deal with this myself, that my dad never needed to know, and what did you do?!" He raises his voice, throwing a hand up.

"Hiccup, we really weren't trying to hurt you. We thought it would be for the best if your dad knew what was going on with you." Astrid comes forward, wants to place a hand on his shoulder, but Hiccup shrugs it off, and goes back to pacing.

"I worked so hard to get to where I am now. To have this relationship with him and you guys know this and you just went and-" He stops himself, fists balling in frustration. The pacing, the balling, the wild gestures, he can't stop repeating them, it's like he's stuck in a loop that he can't escape from.

They could've destroyed everything. Everything he's done the past three years, everything he's achieved, they could've ruined it all just because Viggo is a little too creepy with their leader for their liking. The good reputation he has in his father's eyes, his father's trust in him, their entire relationship! Everything that he finally has after it was denied for so many years and they don't even realize it.

How can he still trust them after this? With anything? His want to cry grows, these people are supposed to be his friends.

The Dragon Riders watch him pace, watch him have the closest thing to a mental breakdown as he walks nervous circles before them. No energy and yet at the same time too restless and angry to stand still.

Seeing that he may need to intervene, Toothless coos at him, daring a few steps forward, but Hiccup wants little to do with him at the moment, too.

"Oh, don't even try, you knew! You knew what they were planning and you let it happen!" With an upset rumble, Toothless backs away. He knew Hiccup would be angry, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt.

Toothless knows Hiccup won't hate him, their bond is simply too unbreakable for that, but that look of betrayal is more than he can bear.

The Night Fury tried to keep him from going in before he managed to slip past. He knows exactly what Stoick has been told and this is how Hiccup knows he knows.

"What did you tell him?" Fishlegs asks carefully, as if any of them even want to know.

"What do you think, Fishlegs? The truth!"

"How did he take it-"

"-That you guys were seeing things and that I'm just stressed out." As Hiccup adds that before they can finish asking, the Riders are given a second surprise this late afternoon.

"You told him what?" Ruffnut asks, dumbfounded.

"Dude, did you... Did you gaslight us in front of your dad?" Snotlout has a hard time formulating his question, but he's the only one who dares ask. It seems too crazy to even think about.

No one has ever seen this side of Hiccup before, has ever even thought him capable of such a thing, but apparently, reality is indeed stranger than fiction.

"Well, what other choice did I have? Tell him that everything you told him was true? Which it isn't, by the way. Viggo's implied some things, nothing more!" There he goes with another wild gesture. They don't believe his claim that it's all just words, but they also have no prove, Hiccup hasn't told them anything, after all.

"But it's enough to hurt you! We've all seen it, Hiccup!" Astrid tries to argue, emphasis on "tries".

"No, you haven't! What you guys have been seeing is stress! Stress because I want to beat him and be rid of the Dragon Hunters! That's all! Why can you guys see that?" He asks. Why can't they?! That's all it is!

"Hiccup, you don't eat, you don't sleep, you jump at the smallest of things-"

"Stress!"

"Sometimes you can't stand being in the same room as us because you're terrified of something you don't tell us about!"

"Stress!"

"Stress doesn't make you try to jump ship when your hands are tied and kill yourself!" Astrid, having had enough, snaps back. Her eyes are watery as well, well on their way to becoming red. She's choking up.

Hiccup stares at her, this time it's his turn to be in shock again. And looking at the others, he can see that they aren't surprised to hear her say that. They know.

So that explains why his dad tried to ask him if he had any "certain bad tendencies or bad thoughts". That's the way Gobber made him word it because, oh yes, his other father figure was there, too. He'd come to welcome his student back when he caught him and Stoick in a heated talk.

This day couldn't get any worse.

"We know about it. Astrid got worried and-"

"And went behind my back apparently, I'm starting to see a pattern. Tell me, how does Heather come into all of this? Or is she the only one I can actually trust?" Hiccup cuts Snotlout off when he, for once, jumps to the shieldmaiden's defense. Nobody answers and he doesn't know if that's a yes or a no.

Astrid approaches.

"You know what, I'm done with this. We're not talking about this anymore. Not about Viggo, not about what happened on Savage's ship, we're not talking about anything." Hiccup cuts Astrid off, throwing his hands up as if in defeat. He rubs in his eyes, wiping some of the tears away.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some damage control to do with my father. Because that is what happens when your best friends tell him something he was never meant to know." The truth is, he's ready to burst and he wants to be far away from him.

He wants to cry and shout and kick the nearest object to him, which so happens to be a barrel. And he's honestly not sure if he wants his Dragon Riders to see that after what they'd done.

They could've ruined him, could've finished digging the hole Viggo has begun to dig since the start of this war. If he doesn't fix their mess now, he might never recover.

And he doesn't want to go back to those days before Toothless, not for something as stupid as this.

With no more words needing to be said, the Riders certainly don't want to try anymore, Hiccup turns around and leaves. Toothless knows better than to follow him this time. He'll have to go to him eventually, they share a room. But for now, his human obviously needs his space.

They watch him go, hearts broken and bleeding. It is silent for a good while before someone dares to say something again.

"Well, that was...."

"Horrible? A disaster? Devastating?" Ruffnut finishes Snotlout's sentence, using all kinds of words to describe what this exchange had been like to them.

"Yeah,"

Fishlegs approaches Astrid and lays a hand on her shoulder. She's trying to suppress her tears, they all are, though Fishlegs and Tuffnut are failing to do so.

"Hey, huh, we're going to be okay, right?" He asks with genuine worry that this may cause a rift between them and Hiccup.

There was one before, they would rather not have it there again.

Astrid looks at him, but doesn't respond.

"Of course we're going to be okay! This is Hiccup we're talking about! He's the most forgiving person ever. We'll talk about it again, he'll understand our side, and then its bygones are bygones." Snotlout doesn't sound as hopeful as he's trying to make his words to sound like.

"That's not how that saying goes..." Fishlegs mutters.

It grows quiet again and the Dragons go to their respective Riders, but which side has to comfort which is up for debate.

Hiccup's words that afternoon hurt them, but then, so had their decision to go behind his back to reveal sensitive information to the center of that information's father. It was all without his consent.

Whether they are going to be okay, is something only time can tell.

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trickstermiraculous · 4 years

Note

Been reading your prompts fic so here’s one: Marinette makes a game of counting how far into a conversation someone gets before Lila relates it to herself with a lie. Adrien joins in and then Kim joins in cause it’s fun and randomly calls out numbers. Soon Kim is making bets on it with Marinette. (Prompt is from a discord server I’m in btw in case you post it and it gets recognized)

A Simple Game

School used to be a safe haven for Adrien, a chance to be away from his father and the suffocating silence that was his house but recently with Lila’s arrival back at school. Adrien finally understood what people meant by school being hell.

She was everywhere, always clinging to him, way more than Chloe ever did at least she gave him room to breathe but with Lila, there was no chance of that happening.

Marinette also looked worse than ever while Lila did accept my deal in order to get Marinette back to school, Lila went straight back to making rumours about Marinette and what’s worse people have started to believe them like Marinette, the girl who was our everyday Ladybug. Sadly there was no chance of me stopping them since Lila started using my father as a threat in order to get what she wants and I knew she would follow up on that threat considering she has followed that threat she gave Marinette.

Trust me when I say that I wanted nothing more than to use cataclysm on Lila right then and there but I can’t do that, I’m supposed to be a hero not some sort of murder.

Right now, I finally got a chance to hang out with Marinette along with Kim and Alix since Mrs Mendeleiev gave us a group project and would not allow Lila to try and join us since it was random and wouldn’t be fair on the rest of the class.

We were studying at Marinette’s house, Alix was sitting on the floor typing on her laptop while Kim was reading a textbook on Marinette’s Chaise, Marinette herself was sitting by her desk on her computer while I was sitting quietly on a bean bag her parents brought me so I wouldn’t have to sit on the floor if I didn’t want too.

Sitting here though in silence was a surprisingly nice change from what usually happens when doing group projects. Whenever I did studying with Nino, Alya and unfortunately Lila, it was never quite what with Alya and Nino being romantic that an Alya tries to get me to ask out Lila which Marinette did warn me about when we started to hang out more outside of school when I had the chance and I noticed that she didn’t seem as nervous around me and well she kind of just blurted out everything.

Her crush on, the many attempts on asking me out along with a few admittedly creepy thing like the schedule which she apologised profusely and considering the fact Alya and the other never really stop it more like in encouraged it, I understand why she didn’t realise it was wrong until later.

Anyways back on track, the silence was nice and for once work was getting done but unfortunately, it didn’t last. Alix phone dinged and as soon as she looked at it she groaned, “What’s wrong?” questioned Marinette as she reaches for an apple from the tray of snacks that her parent’s brought us.

“It’s Lila in the group chat, Juelka brought up the fact that she wanted to try out for some modelling jobs and Lila started going on about how she knew a bunch of famous models and she would try and see if they could help her train” respond Alix glaring at her phone,

“I’m assuming this the girl’s group chat without me in it right” replied Marinette with a sigh,

“Yeah-” Alix was cut off by Kim quickly asking “you guys made a group chat without Marinette isn’t that a bit harsh, I know she and Lila don’t get on like the rest of you guys but like that’s just harsh”.

Adrien silently nodded while looking a Marinette with guilt not realising how bad her friendship with the other girls in the class had gotten. “It was Alya’s idea, not mine, you know how stubborn that reporter can be so it’s not like any of us could say no” stated Alix typing out something on her phone while the other three sat in silence.

That was then Marinette spoke up, “hey ever notice how every time someone brings up something about what they enjoy or what they want to do after school, Lila always says that she knows someone in that industry”,

“That’s a good point actually” replied Alix with a frown,

“How about this, why don’t we see how many times she does it in a week?” stated Marinette,

“But why?” questioned Kim,

“Because you guys might actually see the reason on why I was so quick to call her a liar” replied Marinette,

“I’m in” announced Adrien, surprising both Alix and Kim but both quickly agree.

And so the game began. It didn’t take long for them to start counting because according to Alix, it happened about five times in the group chat over the weekend even sending screenshots to the four’s own group that they set up for this game. Then when Monday came, they had already one point in the first lesson due to Nino bringing up a film making competition that he wanted to partake in since the prize was working with a famous director the same on who directed the movies Adrien’s mother used to be in and of course Lila started to talk about how she knew the director and if Nino wasn’t able to win, she could try and see if she could get the director to still meet with him.

Not only did it annoy Adrien that she would lie like that about a close family of the Agrestes but also the fact that she would get his best bros hopes up like that. Adrien knew as soon as she found out that Adrien was in contact with the director, she would try to get him to set up the meeting so that she would be able to take the credit in order for her not to be found out.

Halfway through the week when the number of points went over twenty when Alix and Kim both look at each other and then Marinette and then back to each other before they pulled out their phones and started googling Lila’s lies.

Both were very unhappy when they found out the truth but before they told the other, Adrien and Marinette both sat them and told them why it was a bad idea considering the pair were either being threatened or blackmail by the Italian snake. Even then Kim and Alix were adamant on making sure the others knew so the four took another route on getting Lila exposed one that was less obvious but simple.

They decided to get the other in on their game and sure enough, one by one, the class all joined in. Sure they were confused at first but playing the game for a week each member started to fact check Lila’s lies. By the end of the month, everyone knew Lila was a liar and the threats and blackmail the girl had given Adrien and Marinette so almost everyone was wanting revenge but they knew the school wasn’t going to listen or do anything since they believe that Lila had a disease that didn’t exist so instead, they went to someone much better, someone who would be quick to punish the lying snake. Lila’s own mother, Martha Rossi.

Martha Rossi was quite different from her daughter, sure the lady was a bit dizzy but considering the amount of work she got from the embassy, it was understandable. Martha was strict though and scary when angry, which became very apparent when she stormed into the school the day that the class sent her an email which contained every lie, threat and blackmailing that the snake had done since she arrived in Paris with evidence of course.

You could hear the women yells from their classroom. Everyone just carried on with their work like it was nothing while Miss Bustier and Lila looked confused. The best part was when Martha Rossi came storming into the class, yelling angrily at her daughter in Italian, Lila got progressively paler at every word while Miss Bustier tried to calm the mother down but Martha was not having it as she just told Miss Bustier simply in a stone-cold tone, “I don’t want to hear anything from the teacher who would believe a child’s word without checking for proper evidence or even fact-checking with their parents”.

Martha then demands Lila to grab her bags because they were going home so that they could have a long chat but before she left, she thanked the class for bringing this to her attention while their school didn’t and that she was sorry for the damage that her daughter had done, promising to fix what she could to the best of her ability. Marinette was quick to thank the women on behalf of the class and made sure that Martha knew none of the class harboured any ill will against her for something that she never knew about.

From then on the class got better, fixing their friendships, apologising to Marinette for not trusting her and going so far as to bully her while they protected the actual villain, fixing the damage done to the ladyblog and them also getting a better teacher than Miss Bustier who was undergoing training courses on how to deal with bullies, liars and doing proper investigations when someone tells them that another student has done something horrible or against school policy. Their new teacher, in fact, was Mrs Mendeleiev who was quite happy with giving proper punishments to those who deserved it along with helping the actual victims.

Author's Note: Sorry that I haven't written in a while, I've had writer's block. Along with the fact that I have been getting black into anime more, meaning I haven't felt the inspiration to write more fanfiction for the miraculous fandom. I wrote this at like midnight so if there's any mistake, I will go back and fix them at a later date.

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#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #ml salt fic #mild class salt #class redemption #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #platonic adrienette #alix kubdel #kim le chien #alix sugar #kim sugar #lila rossi #lila salt #lila exposed fic #lila exposed #lila's mother #ask #answered

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