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jjtheresidentbaby · 9 days

Note

no rush if you’re not into it at the moment, but could i get some sbg headcanons of Aiden being a chaotic toddler regressor? hes such a cool dude and seeing as how unhinged he already is i think he’d make a pretty crazy regressor o_O

— 🐝

Little Aiden Clark headcanons

a/n: god you are so right about him being completely chaos. this got long asf sorrrryyy

warnings: don’t like don’t read! (specifically putting this here for the sbg fandom), swearing, talk of canon events/fighting/phantom dimension, slight taylor/ben- pretending the asylum plot dosent exist bc this is my post and i get to play god <3

he regresses pre canon with just ben around to watch him and it’s not as chaotic as he is in canon but it’s a lot

his parents & ben’s leave them home alone all the time or at some random hotel while they’re doing work things so aiden is free to bounce off the walls as he pleases

one time he steals a maintenance cart in the hallway of a hotel and ben nearly has a heart attack trying to stop him from going down the stairs on it

will put anything in his mouth.

he’s peak toddler ‘don’t eat that!’

ben doesn’t talk so instead of telling him not to eat things he has to write it down or he just bangs his hand on the table/available surface til aiden spits it out

sugary cereal enthusiast

since he spent so many mornings at hotel he grew accustomed to eating the provided cereals, ie those small boxes of cereal

him & ben definitely stole half the supply and shoved them into ben’s backpack for later when aiden inevitably asked for more

cannot sit still as is but when he’s regressed it gets really bad

many many park trips or beach trips when allowed

him & ben used to play “catch” but it’s more like fetch… as ben would throw the ball as far as possible and aiden would get it just to bring it back to be thrown again

no they never thought about strange this was until taylor said something when she found out about it later on

when canon happens aiden stops regressing for a while

mostly because he can’t get into his headspace when he’s that stressed out but also he’s too exhausted to do his normal kiddo activities so he ends up sad and mopey while regressed

ben hates this.

every single time aiden has said he was going to regress and he needed ben to watch over him only for an hour to go by and aiden hasn’t done a single activity pulled out for him and has just sat there looking depressed- yeah it pushes ben one step closer to losing his shit in the phantom dimension

eventually it gets to a point that the rest of the group gets concerned because ben is angrier than normal and aiden is sadder than normal

they have an “intervention” of sorts and sit the cousins down to talk

ben’s anger deflates as he listens to aiden mumble out how he hasn’t been able to regress and how it’s making him emotional

cue everyone in the room having their heart BROKE cause he sounds & looks like a kicked puppy stg

ashlyn already knows what age regression is (cough she regresses cough) and is able to fill the others in with logan’s help as he also knows what it is

taylor is instantly jumping to take care of aiden and help him regress

tyler goes into Big Brother Mode™️ and tells aiden extremely seriously that he will watch over him and protect him

they don’t realize aiden’s regression is pure chaos yet

but anyway- they schedule a day at aiden’s house where his parents won’t be around and he can regress with all his friends there to encourage him and help him feel better

cue the insanity and impulsiveness that is happy regressed aiden

he is climbing counters, trying to tackle tyler, stealing logan’s glasses to put on and run around in (he runs face first into a door cause he’s already uncoordinated & now has strong ass glasses on), he drags taylor around the entire house giving her a “tour” where he gets side tracked in each room and leaves a mess behind for later aiden to worry about

he doesn’t bother ashlyn much during the day, honestly a little worried with how she’s taking his regression as she struggles showing lots of emotions in expressions and little aiden relies on expressions a lot

but dinner time rolls around and ashlyn and ben start to cook and he’s suddenly very interested in the task

she gently guides him through what each step is, calming him down a fair amount in the process

taylor may or may not have a million photos from this day in her camera rolls & in polaroid form

somehow aiden convinces tyler & ashlyn to play tag in the backyard after dinner

logan & taylor have videos of aiden hiding in the bushes just to jump out onto tylers back while yelling for ashlyn to come tag him

he thinks he’s smaller than he actually is

since he regresses so young he forgets that he’s actually taller than ash and about the same height as tyler

he gets very disappointed when tyler says he’s too heavy to carry around - yes tyler does immediately pick him back up and run around with him on his back for a good fifteen minutes

taylor sits in a patio chair with aiden in front of her so she can pluck the sticks & leaves out of his hair from being outside (ben might be falling in love with her who’s to say)

he demands bedtime stories from logan and tyler

they do the voices & the bedtime stories he gets with ben are audio books that ben flips through at aiden’s bedside so it’s special to have the others read them (ashlyn may or may not have to leave the room cause she can feel herself slipped listening to the stories)

by the time aiden is asleep everyone in the group feels like they need a weeks vacation (only they have to go fight phantoms in a couple hours :/)

however logan says it was good as they now know what to expect when aiden’s regressed

with everything going on it’s still difficult for aiden to find the energy/time to regress so the group comes up with a babysitting schedule to try and help

aiden’s favorite days are when it’s tyler, ben & ashlyn or taylor because he just terrorizes tyler the whole time with whoever else is there to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand

lord have mercy if aiden ever regresses at school

once the group tried to stick it out til the end of the day but from then on have realized that it’s better to just skip the day and head back to whoever’s house is empty

as chaotic and normally happy aiden is while small- the phantom dimension still has an impact on him and can cause him to get emotional or upset when certain things happen

he usually goes to ben or ashlyn when this happens and will happily curl up with them on the couch with a comfort movie going to distract him

he buys everyone in the group a Mother’s Day & Father’s Day gift (gender doesn’t matter) but also makes them cards while small

no tyler & ben don’t cry what are you talking about

taylor gets her cards framed to keep on her desk as a pop of positivity when things get hard

each member of the group actually has a lot of art from aiden while small - they like to compare pieces and pin things on the fridge

some of aiden’s favorite things to do while regressed is to go get ice cream with everyone than go to the park

yes he’s covered in chocolate ice cream & dirt by the time they go home but he’s having fun and that’s what matters

#jj headcanons #school bus graveyard agere #little!aiden clark #aiden clark #🐝 anon

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ghostlykeyes · 2 years

Note

Denji having a girl who's love bombing him? Just to throw him away when she's bored?

@ Denji; im so sorry. I don't mean to make you suffer constantly but its what the people WANT

Denji

Denji’s heart belongs squarely to Makima, something his run-in with Reze has only cemented in his mind. So when you elbow your way into his life, Denji’s not too worried at first. He plans to stay true to his original love interest. But, you stubbornly keep showering him with affection, and it’s not long before he crumbles. He just can’t help but fall for you when you’re constantly giving him those adorable puppy eyes you do, and telling him you like the way his hair looks even when he forgets to comb it in the morning. It only takes a little attention for Denji to be wrapped around your finger, regardless of whether you call this flirty little whatever-it-is a relationship or not.

Everyone can plainly see Denji's over the moon, wearing a permanent smile, not even whining when Aki assigns him an extra chore or two. No one has ever paid attention to him like you have. You let him lick your ice cream (even though it's your favorite flavor), and you laugh at his stupid jokes, and you hold his hand in public, never minding when he has to break away to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. For once, Denji feels like he really matters, like someone really sees him when you look up at him with your wide, shining eyes. He's euphoric, he's high on life, he's in love before the week is out.

What really draws Denji in is your constant phone calls. Sure, it's super cool when you bring him the extra leftovers from your dinner, and he loves the little gifts you give, wrapped up neatly with hearts scribbled across the paper, and he thinks he could die of happiness when you take him on dates to the arcade and laugh sweetly as he fumbles his way through songs on the DDR machine. But nothing compares to hearing your sweet voice slipping through the phone line, reassuring him that he's on your mind. Denji won't go to bed until he gets his nightly call from you. "G'night," he always ends the call dreamily, "I can't wait to see ya again tomorrow!"

But for Denji, all good things must come to an inevitable, disastrous end. Still, when you coldly tell him over the phone one night that you're not really interested in meeting up tomorrow, or any time after, it's a bucket of cold water dumped on him. He thought maybe you were one of the benefits that came with his new life, like pants without holes in the knees or getting breakfast every morning. Denji deflates, but when you hang up the phone without telling him to sleep well, and dream about you, he doesn't call you back. He just goes to bed, and can't for the life of him figure out why it takes him so long to finally fall asleep.

Somehow, this is Denji's fault. He just knows it. Maybe you got sick of him mixing up the steps in DDR or getting sweaty while he held your hand or telling lame jokes. For awhile, he tries to make it up to you; flowers on your porch, invitations to your favorite cafe left on your voicemail, the works. But as the pile of flowers he lays on your doorstep grows, and each new offering eventually turns from pink to brown to fully dead, Denji slowly realizes you're not going to give him another chance, no matter how many floral arrangements he picks for you. As soon as reality sets in, he leaves you alone for good.

Denji keeps the gifts and notes you wrote for him. Honestly, it feels bad to look at them. But after Power complained that he was being annoyingly mopey about "some fickle wench" (Denji wrinkled his nose at the term, but didn't correct her) and shoved all the remnants of your short-lived love in a shoebox—one that went straight into the garbage—it feels even worse to see it all in the trash. He fished it out. For now, it’s still all stuffed into a shoebox, but he’s hidden it in the bottom drawer of his dresser. Maybe someday soon, the old “out-of-sight-out-of-mind” will ring true and he can forget that goddamn thing is there.

Denji acts like normal. After all, it’s no big deal; things fall apart between people all the time. Now he can turn his attention back to Makima, where it rightfully belongs. He still goes to work, and still half-asses his chores, and still eats the same ungodly amount of food. But for awhile, it somehow doesn't taste as good. When Aki unknowingly makes your favorite meal for dinner one night, the smell makes Denji want to throw up. He wishes he could understand why.

Denji does his best to stay completely off your radar. He’s still convinced he’s the one that screwed everything all up, and he doesn’t want to hurt you more by running into each other while out grocery shopping or at the arcade. Occasionally, though, he takes the long way back from work—the path that leads nearby where you live. He catches glimpses of you, sometimes, through your open bedroom window (and thinks of every time he told you that you should probably keep your shades drawn while you’re at home; you never know what kind of pervs could be looking in).

Power curses your name, proclaiming you one of her sworn enemies. She claims it’s because you’ve made Denji too sad, and he’s irritating and gets on her nerves when he’s too sad. One night she says she’s going to egg your house as a declaration of war and invites Denji to witness. (He declines, of course, because even if he shrugs his shoulders and says screw (y/n) if anyone asks around, he still doesn’t want to hurt you.) The next day at breakfast Aki swears he’s going crazy because he bought two cartons just yesterday and now there’s only one. Power looks supremely proud of herself. Denji can’t help but laugh thinking of you scraping egg off your front door in your pajamas, and right then, he feels a little weight lift from his shoulders.

Closure has never mattered much to Denji. Not knowing what went wrong between you two won’t eat him alive, or anything. He gets on with his life soon enough. But, still; there’s echoes of you if you know where to look. If Aki notices Denji still glances at the phone around 11, the time you used to call to say goodnight, he graciously doesn’t say anything.

#chainsaw man/reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man headcanons #denji x reader #denji/reader #poor Denji can’t catch a break :((

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1kook · 4 years

Text

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart.

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jimin smut #park jimin smut #pjm #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader #park jimin x reader smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #mine

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tintentrinkerin · 3 years

Text

Title: Pink Pulse

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: explicit

Tags: Bottom!Dean, Top!Sam, Witch OC, Magic, Demon Blood!Sam, Horny Idiots, Breeding kink, Dean has a magic pussy, slightly crack!fic

Summary: Dean wants to piss Ruby off and reclaim Sam as his. During a bender he meets Mandrake, a shady witch who offers him help.

Word Count: 4.5k

READ UNDER THE CUT OR ON AO3

When Dean Winchester regains his consciousness on this cold and foggy morning, he doesn’t really expect a surprise. He’s been drinking for a day… or maybe two, after Ruby, this damn bitch!, showed up again to lure Sam back. It’s her usual fucked up game, she does that when the angels aren’t looking. Sometimes, Dean knows it, Sam secretly calls her and when he sneaks out, Dean knows where’s going. And when he returns he stinks of blood and skank.

Dean’s head hurts like crazy. It takes several attempts for him to roll from his stomach to his back and then get a grip on the dumpster he’s lying next to and swing his body up. His feet feel jiggly and his stomach seems to be empty but he’s nauseous as hell. He hasn’t been robbed, that’s a good thing, his phone, his purse, even the keys to the Impala are still in his pockets. He checks his phone.

It’s 7.38am. Okay, great. He might’ve just passed out a few hours and if he’s super lucky, Baby is parked in close distance.

His phone shows several texts from Sam and from someone who calls themselves “Mandrake”. Doesn’t ring a bell. Not yet. Rather, Dean browses Sam’s texts which tone switches from mopey, to angry, to frightened and then there are over thirty missed calls. Holy shit, was Dean really gone for just a night? Dean tumbles out the alley and winks at the bright daylight he’s now exposed to. He might call Sam before he really freaks out. Some memories flare up in his brain about the damn fight, and that Dean insisted Sam was caught by Ruby so easily because he was underfucked and needed pussy a little too bad. He still thinks he’s right.

There is something to that word. Pussy. Dean loves saying it, Dean loves eating it, Dean loves everything revolving around it, but when he accused Sam of being a horny underfucked loser craving some, he felt bitter about it. A feeling that he had earlier, before Sam went to Stanford. Now Dean is a grown ass man with the Apocalypse on his heels, he has more pressing issues - or so it seems.

He phones Sam while stumbling through the alleys and trying to find Baby. Damn. His pants feel weird. Like he has a wedgie. In the front.

“Dean! For fuck’s sake, where are you?!”

Dean stops in his tracks and scratches his crotch.

“Chill out, Sammy. I’ll find out where I am, I just need to find the damn car.”

“I was a second away from letting Castiel locate you.”

“Forget the damn angel, I’m on my way.”

Sam scoffs into the phone.

“You’re such an idiot. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“No, no, I don’t. I thought you’re sucking pussy all night.”

Sam hangs up without another word.

There it is again, this fucking thought. That Sam could be out fucking Ruby while he’s been… what? What exactly happened between nightfall and now? There was a fight, not physical, but Dean has been so fucking close to slap the bitch across the face. Sam stopped him.

Dean finds the pub where he supposedly was drinking his anger away. It’s closed. The “Full Moon”. And it’s been a full moon last night. How damn right poetic. His phone rings.

“Yo, Sammy - wanna apologize and admit you’ve been eatin’ her all night?”

A female voice on the phone laughs. Dean frowns.

“Who’s this?”

“Mandrake. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember jack. Where’d you get my number?”

Dean knows, he should hang up. This is maybe a very bad idea. Give too much away. This woman sounds familiar but a lot of women do, he’s not exactly in celibacy since he’s back from Hell.

“I got it from you, idiot. And I got something else.”

Dean follows the main road for as long as he somehow feels he’s been here before. He surely didn’t drive far from the motel but far enough that Sam wouldn’t find him. This is so not usual for Dean. Being a mopey idiot? Yes. Getting drunk? Also very much yes. It itches in Dean’s pants and when he makes sure no one’s looking he sticks his hands in his boxers.

Holy shit. What the fuck.

Sam can’t focus. He sits at the motel room’s table, trying to do research, but he just can’t block out all of the things that distract him. The flickering TV. The humming of the air conditioning system. His fingernails clicking on his laptop’s keyboard. The thoughts. All of his thoughts combined as sinister and hilarious and frightening they are at the same time. Dean’s been gone for two damn nights. Okay, now he’s back, sitting on the sofa, manspreading. Only in his now deflated looking underwear. Watching something on TV that Sam can’t process. He sees the images, but his mind is racing like crazy around all the other things. The goosebumps on his own arms, the sound of his own breath. He feels the harsh and fast pumping of his heart, circulating his blood. He can feel his pupils dilate. And his legs won’t hold still. He has to move somehow.

Ruby’s blood wasn’t enough last time. The fuck wasn’t enough. Everything aches inside Sam. Anger is like a fist in his stomach but he isn’t quite sure if the anger is the fuel of everything.

He knows Dean hates it when he bounces like this, his legs are shaking and damn, something is pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Of course it’s not something. Thing is, he wants to ignore it.

Dean seems to be calm right now, but he’s sitting right under the air conditioning, the blow is ruffling his hair while he stares on the screen, his arms crossed, legs spread out. He scratches himself. There. Sam follows the movement and gulps.

And then, shit, Sam, stop fucking looking at your brother’s crotch! - but he can’t stop! - Dean isn’t scratching anymore. Two of his fingers press right between his thighs, the fabric rustles, and it turns wet. The fucking boxers get wet. Dean doesn’t even seem to notice, but he should. It’s his body! It’s his-

Sam can’t even think it without feeling a rush of hot blood and sharp imaginary knives stabbing his lower stomach. Pulse spikes up. Pupils dilated. Mouth waters. Sam tries to hide a grunt but he can’t.

“Sammy, you good?”, Dean asks, still rubbing his-

Sam looks at him. He must look like a drug addict in withdrawal. Well, maybe he is. He’s maybe addicted to- it’s all Ruby’s fault. She came when Dean died and she lured him in, now he can’t stop thinking of her warm salty blood in his mouth. Or his teeth on her skin. His tongue-

“Fuck.”

Dean looks irritated.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I don’t even remember most of the fight. It’s only twelve or thirteen days from now and I’m-- I’m normal again.”

Sam inhales. Dean’s scent was building over the last couple of hours and now it’s so thick, musky and intoxicating that it’s hard to ignore it.

“Shut up and take a shower.”

Dean now closes his legs and presses his hands on his thighs. He looks at Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

“There’s nicer ways to tell me I still stink of garbage.”

If it was only fucking garbage! Sam is so close to yell it, to jump up, throw the table over or punch a wall.

“You don’t stink.”

“Then what?”

Dean gets up and walks towards the table. His chest is heaving, Sam notices. Breathing heavy. Such a broad chest, covered in goosebumps. Sam feels incredibly sick all of a sudden.

“I can smell…”, Sam needs to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. The closer Dean comes the worse it gets.

“Now tell me already, if I don’t stink anymore what’s the problem?”

“Dean, I could smell a chipmunk’s fart from miles away, that is a problem.”

Sam needs to breathe. He jumps up and throws himself over to the window and opens it. He should’ve done that way earlier, he realizes. But Dean is behind him now.

“Unless we have chipmunks with flatulences in here, I still don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

Dean touches Sam’s shoulder. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Oh holy shit, the whole hormonal time bomb erupts inside Sam’s body. When he turns around, he’s sure he looks super frightening to Dean, but he can’t stop, won’t stop and pulls Dean close. Dean freezes. A shaky little laugh.

“Sammy… what…”

“I can smell your pussy”, Sam growls, his lips on Dean’s skin.

Dean doesn’t smell like a woman at all, everything about him is testosterone, if there wasn’t this tiny anomaly about him.

That he got himself hexed by a shady witch.

There’s no struggle against Sam’s force when he pushes Dean against the table and then -- as if he waited for it -- Dean hops on that table, opens his legs for Sam.

“What are you doing?”, he still asks, his green eyes big and glassy, lips a cute pout.

Sam has no answer to that than before: “Your smell drives me mad. I need…”

What does Sam need? His brother? His magical pussy? Or wouldn't it be easier to run away to mountains nearby and scream from the bottom of his lungs until he passed out?

Decisions, decisions.

Dean's face has the colour of fresh pink guava juice, his freckles pop, his eyes pop. His lips part for a second. His tongue flicks. No Sam knows exactly what he needs.

“Do you need it? My pussy?” Dean whispers. He slowly pulls his boxer briefs down to his ass but then Sam needs to help, Dean clings on him, Sam pulls. Dean lays across the - thank GOD, long table and is spread out like a delicious meal, while Sam frees Dean from the fabric. It's more ripping then pulling and Sam groans, shit, he's ripped them apart. But then, when Dean opens his legs even more, lying here on his back like a beetle, helpless and weirdly pliant, the odor of Dean's pussy makes Sam cuss and tumble.

“Fuck, Dean…”

“Huh? Not good?”

Sam is out of words, super-ego just logged out with an ‘I have no power here’ and damn right it doesn't!

Dean's pussy is perfect. Another grunt. Holy shit. Instead of an answer for Dean, Sam kneels between Dean's wonderfully wide spread legs. His brother is the definition of a bottom here. Just opening his legs for anyone. Even Sam. The smell is intense and rich, Sam knows it from the other women he's been with... but Dean has one perfect twist. He smells like Sam's brother, too. Musky and citric. And that makes Sam go lizard brain.

“I need to taste you.”

Dean now even slides closer, his legs lie on Sam's shoulder. Sam jerks up and leans over the table, over Dean's naked body. This pussy is just the material of Sam's wet dreams. His nose rubs Dean's skin under his belly button and Dean moans.

“Do it, Sammy. Fucking do it or I'll push your face in my pussy myself.”

Well. Not the worst threat he's ever received. Sam's hand trails between Dean's legs and when he feels the wetness, a fucking intense wetness that is spread all over. Even the thighs are a little glossy from Dean's fluids.

Sam needs to see. Going down, he pushes Dean's legs apart even wider and dives in between these legs. Pink and juicy, dripping wet. The smells almost knocks him out, makes his mouth water and a generous drop of drool falls from his lips. He cannot fucking take that anymore. And Sam pushes Dean closer to him, winds his arms under Dean's now trembling legs and -

Dean cries out, muscles flex, he kicks out, then sinks down again. Just one damn lick.

Sam is in such rage that he can't be fully a gentleman here and do everything slowly, patiently. He's hungry and his primal urge has taken over. Greedy, he licks up and down Dean's labia, tongue working and opening his brother's pussy up and Dean sounds so fucking hot. No girl or guy ever made him sound so needy and so desperate for a fuck. He tastes just as good as Sam imagines when he sucks the thick and sweet wetness from Dean's pussy, sucks on the folds while his fingers run up and down Dean's thighs and Sam needs one free hand now, his thumb rubbing just above the hood of the clit, other finger just teasing his entrance. Not really pushing it in, just a little rubbing while Sam sucks and licks and circles Dean's clit with his tongue.

Dean feels like he is losing his mind. Not only that Sam really is between his legs and gives him mind blowing oral sex, fuck, Dean loves it. He thought Sam was angry but the way he devoured Dean's pussy, anger was definitely gone. He can't stop moaning and winding and his hands in Sam's hair. When he looks down and sees his brother's face up and down, he looks very focused on what he's doing. And in Dean feelings build up, it's a heat and a tumbling, never felt like this.

In a moment of taking a deep breath and Sam looks up, Dean's juices run down his chin and in the collar of his shirt. “Dean, you taste so good…” he says and bites in Dean's thigh. Doesn't hurt. “Better than anything.”

Dean shudders. He needs more.

“Sammy, keep going.”

Sam smirks, his thumb circling Dean’s now swollen and hot clit, his whole pussy is slick with his wetness. No woman Sam ever had sex got that wet.

His thumb is gentle, a perfect rhythm of circling. Stopping. Circling. Stopping. Little pressure. Dean’s body feels on fire.

“Is that what the girls tell you when you go down on them?” Sam asks, his voice rustling leaves.

Dean can’t help but utter a short, almost hysterical laugh.

“I never really listened.”

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk, Sam clicks his tongue.

“You should’ve. Not only that. Listen to what they say but what-”

Sam finger slides in Dean’s wet pussy with one fast but well adjusted movement. Dean winds and arches his back. Tries to get Sam’s finger away and yet…

“-when they want to escape you, you’re doing it right.”

“Sam, for fuck’s sake! I had enough sex with enough people to know the god damn basics!”

But feeling it himself gives him a whole new sense for it. Sam’s finger moves, wet sounds, in and out and it takes not even a blink and Dean begs for more. Two fingers, holy shit, Sam’s fingers are thick and long and when he starts fucking Dean’s pussy with them while sucking on his clit, the impulse to turn on his stomach and either crawl away or present his naked ass to invite Sam to fuck him -- Dean wants both!

Sam’s ‘come hither’ movements tighten the knot in Dean’s stomach. That’s not what an orgasm feels like for him when he’s about to blow. This is so much deeper, feel tight and hot right up to his lower belly. The noises Sam makes as he sucks Dean’s clit are downright vulgar. And the faster Dean’s breath goes, the more he tries to wind away, Sam’s hand around his upper thigh is a bench vice - he won’t let Dean go. Not unless…

Dean can feel it. He whines “fuck, Sammy, ‘m gonna cum…” and this would be the same moment he came. If Sam just sucked his dick. But this is… slower. And Sam goes absolutely frantic, like a boxer he just goes for Dean’s weak spots and he has definitely found them now and he rubs Dean’s insides, sucks his clit, damn how big can such a tiny thing swell? And Dean fucks himself on these fingers, his rhythm clashes against Sam’s, the bigger the friction, the better. His fingers clench in Sam’s hair and then finally, Dean comes, he feels like exploding, black dots in his sight and he has to close his eyes. His heartbeat goes straight up to his throat, only faint moans, a ‘holy fu…’ but he can’t even finish a fucking curse. Sam won’t stop fucking him, but slower now, more gentle. His tongue presses against Dean’s clit. Dean feels Sam’s breath on his wet skin. Everything tingles still, Dean’s hornystupidmanbrain is on standby, extremities just twitch helplessly.

When Dean opens his eyes he only sees the dirty brown ceiling and the dim light.

“I need a smoke”, Dean blurts out. Oh, the sweet refusal to acknowledge what just happened.

“Fuck, you clenched so hard I thought you would break my fingers.”

Sam sounds so deep, so gravely. Does Ruby hear that a lot?

Dean laughs, trying not to choke on his jealousy. Sam just ate him out. His brother. Just. Ate. Him. Out! Dean feels like he took drugs, heavy, light, euphoric. Not tired. This doesn’t seem to end in a hangover.

“Sam. I really, really wanted that”, another stupid thing to stay. But Dean’s stupid, especially when things are about Sam.

Sam scoffs. “I guessed, otherwise you would’ve punched me to a pulp.”

“Damn right…”

Dean covers his face with his arm, the dim light is too much right now. His breath hasn’t even calmed down yet and somehow, he has to admit, he’s not satisfied. The climax gave him a solid blank for a couple seconds but even now he’s throbbing and wet, Sam’s spit hasn’t made him any drier.

Dean is still a powerhouse of sex, Sam can’t deny it. Resting between his legs doesn’t help but he doesn’t dare to get up and reveal that he is rock-hard and ready. Eating his brother out has been a wild ride already, something he maybe dreamed of as a teenager (but even then - who would imagine Dean as a girl?), of sucking him off like he saw when Dean brought a girl or a dude home. Sam needs to get himself up, slowly, Dean is lying there, arm covering his eyes, but a smile on his face. He grins like an idiot. It’s cute.

Silence.

Awkward.

Sam doesn’t know what to say now, he’s lost control, because his brother grew a pussy. How could you ever explain that? Gladly he doesn’t have to.

Dean gets up, his eyes look teary, but not in the sad I’m-about-to-cry way. He rather pulls Sam close and whispers, something so idiotic, something so innocent, and yet something that makes Sam’s boner grow even more.

“You didn’t even kiss me first.”

“Sorry”, Sam replies, he’s just as stupid.

Dean makes it easy for Sam, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and kissing him. This is just another short circuit for him and before Sam realizes what he’s doing, his vision turns red. His instincts and his lust are wired to the taste and smell of blood - and Ruby. This is not Ruby. Gladly, this is not Ruby. It’s Dean. The one he thought of when it first happened, the one he was mourning so deeply. Now he gets what he wants from the person he wants. Bingo.

His brother is heavy, but Sam’s strength is to be reckoned with these days. It’s easy to lift him up - Dean’s legs wind around his hips, his ass feels so great. Firm. Dean moans in his mouth when Sam throws him on one of the motel beds and follows, laying his full weight on his brother.

“Sammy…”

Damn, Dean’s fumbling on his zipper.

“You’re big.”

Scoff.

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Dean looks really intrigued. Sam lets it happen. Dean slides a hand in his boxer briefs and squeezes his raging dick.

“Fuck. Dean.”

These big pleading eyes. Sometimes Dean looks at him like this. And he looks younger than Sam now. Needy. Small. Vulnerable. Sam can never say no when Dean looks like this. He kicks out of his jeans and Dean is so damn impatient. Fabric tears on the seams. Sam doesn’t care.

The way Dean strokes him, the close they are it would be easy, way too easy just to slide inside Dean. Feel his wetness, how tight. How hot. And greedy. Swallowing Sam’s cock like he did with his fingers. Dean stops him. Sam’s heart sinks. It hurts.

“Take everything off”, Dean just says, “I don’t want to feel like quick fuck-”

Sam just has to laugh.

“Never”, he vows and then pulls the shirt over his head and throws it over his shoulder.

The way he towers over Dean, ready to mount, he feels like a steam breathing monster. He really shouldn’t do that. He’s spiralling down to something he never wanted to be. But he can be with Dean this way. Just this once…?

More than once…?

Dean’s legs around his hips trap him now, he can feel the slick wet folds on his cock already and all he can do now is just thrust in. Around his fingers Dean already felt like heaven and hell on earth, but this. Sam hisses, he feels like growing fangs, he digs his teeth in Dean’s neck, he tastes salt and sweat, Dean whimpers but doesn’t complain.

“God… so deep…”, he says. Like he can’t believe it.

“Hurts?”

Dean makes a sound that says ‘nuh-uh’ and that’s enough for Sam. He even pulls Sam closer, his legs force his cock deeper inside this fucking wet and inviting pussy.

This is so much better than Ruby. He needs to fucking forget her. The deeper he sinks, the harder he thrusts and sweat runs down in his eyes and makes them sting, he forgets about what all of this could mean for them. He just wants to fuck Dean silly. And Dean clings on him like he’s drowning in this feeling, no matter how harsh Sam is. His hips are snapping, damn, it must hurt, right? He eventually slows down to kiss Dean sloppily and open mouthed, their moans intertwining and building a cacophony of sounds, loud and rough, soft at the same time. Sam manages to slow down a little and Dean relaxes.

“I want you to fuck me from behind”, Dean mumbles on Sam’s lips, trying to hide the fact he’s blushing deep.

Sam huffs.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.” Babe.

He almost called Dean babe. Sam winds out, slides out, winces. It feels so good, Dean’s so wet, Dean’s just perfect.

On all fours, arms spread out like a silly yoga pose, back stretched… Sam definitely dreamt of this more than once. This time he pushes in slowly, and Dean arches his back. His breath staggers, yelps. But yet again, after a second of adjusting, Dean starts moving. Fucking himself on Sam’s cock and saying such nasty, irritating, hot things. He mewls and begs for more and then.

“God, Sammy, cum inside me!”

Sam stops. Dean repeats. “Cum inside me!”

There’s no way Sam can deny him, he’s close since Dean started working him like he did it a thousand times already. Sam grips those hips tight, leaves white marks, then pink long traces of his fingernails as he snaps in Dean’s pussy, shit, these sounds. Juicy and full, and Dean’s longing. This is the best fuck. This is it. This is what will blow Sam’s mind for hours, the whole night. Days.

“You want me to breed you, big bro?”, he hears himself say, the animalistic side, awake, fully in rage makes him say it, he can’t stop. “You want me to pump my load in ya?”

Dean nods frantically, his mewling and crying is so pretty. He’s still bouncing on Sam’s cock, his wonderful, round and firm ass, perfect for slapping. And Sam does. Dean whimpers, “please, more, Sammy, more!”

Sam claws at Dean’s hair, pulls it, overstretching his neck. He’s so out of control he might fuck Dean all bruised and sore.

“Touch your clit, c’mon babe, rub it. Cum on my cock and you’ll get it. I’ll knock you up”, whoa.

Dean does it, his hand traces down his body and he starts rubbing his swollen, red, overstimulated clit, squeezes it between his fingers and starts rubbing, circling.. hard to find the thing that gets you going, right? But soon, Dean writhes even more, his voice turns higher. Legs start shaking. “I think I’m gonna-”

He cums on Sam’s cock, clenching and moaning, getting so wet it drenches Sam’s crotch and runs down both their legs. The feeling is amazing, Sam’s checked out once again, babbling “Good boy, good boy” and then shoots a generous load of cum, he tumbles and hips snap and snap, until he’s finished.

They collapse, sweaty and gasping for air, Dean makes incoherent post orgasm noises.

Another period of silence that is only interrupted by the usual motel room sounds that creep back in Sam’s ears. He wants to pull out but Dean claws on his arm, his legs trapping Sam’s.

“No, no. Not yet. Please not yet.”

Sam sinks back and gives Dean what he needs, the closeness. Even though after some time fluids will dry and get cold. It will get sticky and that’s when Sam will have the urge to shower.

Not with Dean. They stay like this for minutes before Dean turns around, Sam lets him. They lay beside each other and the whole scene is hilariously and bizarrely romantic. They keep kissing and Dean’s like the devourer of Sam’s kisses and affections.

Dean rubs his nose on Sam’s, humming. He seems so proud of himself, so satisfied, but then his eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.”

He gets up on one elbow and looks at the mess they made. Cum is leaking out of him and he wipes it from his thigh. Tastes it.

“Dean, really?”

“Hey. It’s only natural. Have you never been curious?”

Sam shrugs. “Yeah I was, but I never thought you would be.”

“You know this breeding kink thing. I did that before but I- I mean. Hot fantasy, works with anal but… Do I need an emergency pill now?”

Dean’s face is deadpan serious. Sam clears his throat to hide that he actually wants to laugh. How could he know?

“Just to be sure, I would say a magical pussy isn’t spunk proof. We could get to a pharmacy ...”

Dean falls silent and leans into Sam. There’s so many things unsaid and he’s not in the mood to unpack it. Sam is reluctant either. It’s enough for him to hold Dean close, pet his hair and keep kissing him over and over until they feel in the mood again. That Dean’s been hexed is a secondary matter. They will enjoy it as long it lasts.

Sam goes down on Dean, even when he’s still leaking cum, he just swallows it, he doesn’t mind. And when they get tangled into each other, both thinking ‘well, if he needs an emergency pill we’ll make it worth it’.

Consequences? Which consequences?

Apocalypse might come, they might enjoy every fucked up delightful thing along the way.

#wincest #dean x sam #sam winchester #dean winchester #rating:nc 17 #dean with a pussy #wincest smut

124 notes · View notes

vannahfanfics · 3 years

Note

Fluff alphabet event request for Kiba Inuzuka please, thanks!

Ahh, my best boy! I love Kiba, I really wish we could have seen more of him later on in the manga and show :c

Fluff Alphabet: Kiba Inuzuka

A- Activities: How do they spend their time with their s/o?

Walks! Kiba loves to go on walks with his s/o, bonus points if they bring their dog(s) along! There’s just something so refreshing about strolling down a walking trail or through the neighborhood, especially with his s/o by his side. He’ll hold their hand as they mosey along, and he’ll be unable to resist pecking their cheek or their lips every so often.

Kiba also loves to take naps with his s/o! He’s a pretty energetic guy, but he does tire out. When he does, his favorite thing to do is to snuggle up to his s/o for a quick snooze! It doesn’t matter where, either. Kiba can fall asleep anywhere, so sometimes that means just passing out right there on the kitchen floor while his s/o was trying to enjoy a quick lunch! It’ll have to wait, though, because he will drag them out of their chair to snooze on the floor with them.

B- Body: What does this character appreciate about their s/o? What part of their body are they most proud of, and in reverse, what body part are they ashamed of and how do they respond to their s/o gushing over it?

Kiba is a tummy guy, 100%. He loves just planting his face into his s/o’s stomach, littering it in kisses or holding his hands there when they’re seated on his lap. His favorite way to nap is with his head resting on his s/o’s stomach and their hands running through his hair.

Kiba isn’t really self-conscious about any part of his body in particular, but if his s/o compliments any part of him, he’ll get all blushy and shy. After the initial surprise, however, he’ll definitely turn it around on his s/o, growing smug and flirtatious!

C- Cuddles: Is this character a cuddler? What is their favorite way to cuddle?

Kiba is definitely a cuddler! As I previously mentioned, he loves to cuddle into his s/o’s tummy. However, he also does love to spoon! If anyone asks, he’s the big spoon. But honestly? He loves to be the little spoon, too. The first time his s/o is the big spoon he gets a little emotional because he just feels so adored? He swears he didn’t cry, though.

D- Dreams: How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Dogs. All the dogs. It is a must. Aside from having a whole lotta dogs, Kiba dreams of the ideal life-- getting married, sharing a home, having some kids, and growing old together. With their dogs, of course.

E- Equivalence: Is this character the dominant force in the relationship, are they passive, or is the relationship more or less even?

The relationship is more or less even. Kiba’s a little dominant, but he is also whipped for his s/o, so it really depends on the situation. In most things, he’s content to do whatever keeps his s/o happy. Of course, every so often he has to put his foot down, and he’s not afraid to. Still, it’s a blissful arrangement, all things considered!

F- Fights: How does this character respond to arguments with their s/o? What would they fight about, and who would cave and apologize first?

In the moment, things will get heated. Kiba will yell, because his voice gets louder whenever he’s excited about something-- either in a good or bad way. However, as soon as his s/o starts to cry, he deflates. He can’t believe he broke his s/o’s heart like that! He instantly switches to comforting mode, and he’ll be able to talk it over with a more level head after that. He will definitely apologize first.

As for things he would fight about with his s/o? Kiba gets a little bit irritable when he’s stressed, so most likely, he snapped at the wrong thing and made his s/o mad. He’ll own that once things have settled down, too.

G- Gratitude: How does this character show their s/o that they are grateful?

Hugs! Kiba’s love language is very much physical affection, so anytime he’s in a grateful mood, he will grab his s/o and snuggle into their neck or belly while telling them how much he loves them!

H- Honeymoon: If this character had a honeymoon with their s/o, where would they go?

Kiba loves the beach! He would definitely want a week of sand, surf, and sun. He will be in the water constantly, and will definitely drag his s/o out to play with him, but don’t worry! He’ll have plenty of romantic dinners, shows, and whatnot planned to enjoy with his s/o, too.

I- Insecurity: What is this character insecure about? How do they deal with their insecurities with their s/o?

Kiba sometimes feels like he’s inferior to the other guys he knows, believe it or not. They’re just so awesome! He feels like a background character. He won’t admit it to his s/o at first, using brash declarations to try and make himself relevant; but when his s/o picks up on it, he will break down and spill out his poor little heart. He definitely needs to be reassured that he’s number one in his s/o’s eyes! Tell him he’s a big strong man! <3

J- Jealousy: Is this character the jealous type? How do they deal with being jealous?

Kiba doesn’t get jealous as much as he does insecure. If he sees someone else flirting with his s/o, he will get really moody and really clingy. Like, he will not leave his s/o alone after that point, hugging and kissing all over them to make the point known that they are off the market. He will also need to be reassured by his s/o too that they still love him and want him. Poor baby. :(

K- Kiss: What does the character want their first kiss to be like with their s/o? How does it end up happening?

Kiba wants the first kiss to be perfect, of course! He meticulously plans everything out, but when it comes down to it... He kind of bungles it, hits their nose on the way in and accidentally kisses the corner of their mouth instead. He is dying of embarrassment, so please just laugh it off and give him another chance, he promises he’ll do it right this time!

L- Love Confession: How does this character first profess their love to their s/o?

Kiba confesses totally on accident, haha. It just slips out in the middle of a conversation one day. Everyone around will just be like, “What?!” He’ll try to play it off, but the bright big blush on his face tells everyone exactly what they just heard. Poor baby boy, he’s trying his best.

M- Marriage: How does this character view marriage? What is their ideal wedding like?

Kiba definitely wants to get married! He dreams of settling down with his s/o. However, he doesn’t want it to be a big grand affair. He’d like a simple shrine wedding with just their parents, and then after, they can meet up with all their friends and have a nice time! In the moment, though, he would really just like to focus on his s/o and his love for them.

N- Nicknames: What does this character like to call their s/o?

Kiba defaults to “babe” or “baby” most of the time. He’s not very creative when it comes to pet names, those two get the job done! But when he’s feeling extra soft, he’ll hit his s/o with a “sweetheart” or a “honey” that’ll just make them swoon!

O- On Cloud Nine: What is this character like when they’re in love? Is it obvious to others, or are they good at hiding it?

Oh, Kiba is so obvious it’s painful. He’s blushy, he’s stuttery, he’s over the moon. Everyone within a ten mile radius will know who he’s crushing on. It’s super cute, honestly, but he will 100% get ragged for it until he finally confesses because all his guy friends definitely know what’s up!

P- PDA: Does this character like PDA? If so, what kinds of things do they do in public to show off their s/o?

Kiba is so clingy! He loves PDA. He loves to hold hands with his s/o; if they are not holding hands while walking around he gets super mopey, haha. Surprise hugs and kisses are also a must! He just loves to shower his s/o in affection. He can’t help it! He has so much love to give!

Q- Quirks: What random traits or quirks does this character have that positively affect the relationship?

Kiba is a brutally honest guy, sometimes to a fault. As such, he would never dream of lying to his s/o, not ever! Even little white lies, he can’t stand the idea of lying to his s/o. Sometimes it’s not helpful, but most of the time it’s just a testament to strong communication.

R- Romance: Is this character a hopeless romantic, or a bit on the low-key side? Are they cliché when it comes to romantic gestures, or can they get a little bit creative?

Oh, Kiba is hopelessly romantic when it comes to his s/o, but he’s actually kind of clueless when it comes to romantic gestures. He gets advice from his friends with... mixed results, haha. But he tries! He really does, and he hopes his s/o at least can get a laugh when things don’t quite go as intended.

S- Secrets: Are there any secrets they hide from their s/o? If so, how do they deal with it when those secrets finally come out?

Aside from his insecurities, as I mentioned before, no secrets from his s/o! Kiba is an open book!

T- Thrill: Does this character prefer routine in their relationship, or do they like to shake things up every once in a while?

Kiba is very impulsive, so he definitely likes to shake things up! He will definitely drag his s/o off to do random things when the mood strikes him, but honestly, it just adds to the fun!

U- Understanding: Is this character level-headed and empathetic toward their partner, or do they sometimes have trouble figuring them out, which leads to some butting heads?

As I mentioned, Kiba can be a bit clueless, so bless his heart sometimes he does have trouble understanding his s/o. This can lead to frustration and he may butt heads with them, but after a bit, they’ll be able to talk it out. He tries to beas empathetic and understanding as he can most of the time, though, even if he has no idea what’s going on.

V- Value: How does this character value their relationship with their s/o? How does it hold in comparison to their goals, ambitions, etc.?

Kiba adores his s/o, and after a long relationship, they will definitely become the centerpoint in his life. He doesn’t really have any goals or ambitions aside from just living a good and solid life, and so his s/o fits right in!

W- Wild Card: Any random fluff headcanon that does not fall within the other categories!

Kiba, unfortunately, is a wiggleworm in bed. I’m talking kicking around, flopping like a fish, falling off the bed without even waking up-- it’s bad! So, his poor s/o may find the blankets stolen, or even get an accidently hand in their face in the middle of the night!

X- XOXO: How does this character show affection?

95% of Kiba’s love language is physical affection. He just loves to snuggle up to his s/o, hold their hand, give them kisses, everything! However, he isn’t willing to hold back praise either; he loves to shower his s/o in praise and talk them up to whoever’s listening!

Y- Yearning: How does this character deal with time apart with their s/o?

Oh, he gets so mopey. He just walks around all depressed because he doesn’t get his daily dose of snuggles and lovin’. He is so sad that everyone hates being around him because all he can do is whine and cry about his s/o being there. As soon as his s/o returns, he will latch onto them like a koala and won’t let go for at least several hours.

Z- Zeal: Is this character willing to great lengths for their relationship? If so, how far, and how long does it take to get to this point?

Absolutely! Kiba doesn’t take any slight to his s/o well, and he will do anything for them. It takes a while for Kiba to build up to a serious relationship, but when he’s there, he’s gonna be in his s/o’s corner no matter what.

#kiba inuzuka #inuzuka kiba #naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #naruto next generations #fluff alphabet #naruto fluff alphabet

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inadaydream99 · 4 years

Text

You’re Over Me?

Inspired by “You’re over me? When were you under me?” from the Friends episode ‘The One with the Jellyfish.’

Stray Kids Lee Know/ Minho.

A/N - Welcome to the first part of my Stray Kids oneshot series inspired by Friends! I have tried to not follow the scene from friends completely, just so it’s not exactly the same as the show, just inspired by. I really hope you enjoy! Also, I got a little carried away with this oneshot 😂

Disclaimer: mentions of accessive drinking/alcohol

You wake up to your alarm going off, whining as you hit snooze before defeatedly flopping back into bed. Why’d you have to stay out drinking so late the previous night? You knew it wouldn’t end well and you’d feel ill the next day.

Your head is throbbing, mind groggy as you finally force yourself to sit up, taking a moment for your eyes to adjust to the daylight seeping in through the gap between your curtains.

You don’t remeber much from the night before, apart from arriving at the bar with your friends and the first few rounds of drinks. After that it’s pretty hazy.

The only reason you’d gotten so drunk was to drown out your heartache. When Stray Kids had returned from tour a month ago, you were so excited to finally have your friends back. But that was until you received the news that Minho had started seeing someone.

You’d found out the day the guys left for tour that Minho was in love with you. Initially you were shocked, but then you realised that you’d fallen for him too. So you’d spent the whole time they were away eagerly waiting for him to come back so you could tell him how you felt.

That was until Seungmin told you that he’d started seeing another girl. You were too late.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear a sudden knocking on your bedroom door, watching as it slowly creeks open and Minho’s head pokes through the gap.

“You’re awake...” He smiles, swinging the door open properly before walking over to your bed as soon as he sees your grumpy expression.

“Unfortunately.” You mumble, reaching over to the glass of water on your bedside table and chugging it down quickly.

“How was last night.” Minho questions, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I don’t really remeber much, but I think it was ok?” You half heartedly respond. “How was your date?” You ask, not really wanting to find out the answer.

“Actually, I had a really great time.” You can tell he’s downplaying how he feels because he cautiously looks at you while he answers. Anyone would think he still has feelings for you, but you know he doesn’t...

Of course, Minho doesn’t know how you feel about him. You two don’t generally talk about your love lives to each other, so it always feels a little strange on the rare occasions you do. Hence the awkwardness that settles between you.

“Great.” You mutter, trying to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “So what are you doing here anyway?” You quickly try to move on the topic, curious as to why you’ve woken up to him in your apartment.

“I left my keys here, luckily the guys were awake and let me in at the dorms, otherwise I would have been locked out all night.” You nod in understanding, feeling your heart flutter when Minho chuckles. “I used your spare key to get in.” He adds as an afterthought, though you had already made that assumption anyway.

“That is lucky.” You softly comment, subtly admiring his bright smile as he laughs. It hurts to think that you’re not the reason for his cheerful mood and that it was probably his date. But what can you really do about that now...

“So he had one good date, it doesn’t mean he’s taken.” Felix tries to make you feel better. You’d been filling him in on the events of last night and wallowing in your sadness over having to see Minho fall in love with someone other than you.

“But it definitely counts for something.” You sigh, staring down at the coffee in front of you, stirring it with your spoon endlessly in hopes of it providing an element of distraction.

“You know what, I’m done seeing you all mopey like this.” Felix suddenly states after a moment of silence. He’s had enough of watching you act like it’s the end of the world, so he’s gonna do something about it. “You need to get over him and move on.” He continues, placing his hands firmly on the table as he stands up.

This grabs your attention, your eyes peaking up from prue intrigue, though you don’t make any effort to wipe the pout off your face or remove your hand from resting under your chin.

“How’re we gonna do that?” You sarcastically retort, rolling your eyes as you moodily reject the idea of being able to get over Minho so suddenly.

“We’re gonna get you some closure.” Felix confidently states, feeling proud of himself as he smiles down at you triumphantly. “And in order to do that, we need to distract you.”

A meek smile grows on your face as you stare back up at him. His determination sure is adorable and it makes you start to believe that maybe he is right. Maybe you can get closure.

Your evening was set out. Felix had gone to the trouble of getting everyone together for a fun night of games.

Well, everyone except for Minho.

You’d arrived expecting to see eight of your friends ready to have a great night together. But instead, you turn up to find Minho leaving.

Seeing him all dressed up, you know straight away that he’s going on another date and instantly it makes your heart sink.

“He’s gone on another date hasn’t he.” You whisper to Felix who simply nods his head in return, shooting you a sympathetic glance. Having your suspicions confirmed your shoulders slump, posture deflated as you sit on the floor while the first game is set up. So much for finding a distraction.

It’s about two hours into the games night now and you’re still a sulky mess. It’s seems that everyone has also caught onto your mood, as you are normally very competitive. But, right now, you don’t even care about winning. All night you’ve put in a halfassed effort. You didn’t even throw a tantrum when you lost at Uno and had to pick up ten cards when you only had one left.

“Come on (Y/N), you need to stop thinking about him.” Felix approaches you after you excused yourself to get another drink.

You’d began pacing yourself with how much alcohol you were going to consume. But it’s getting to the point where it’s starting to have its impacts on your system and you’re gradually drinking more and more as time goes on. Everything is becoming hazier and you feel more at ease. It’s the best way for you to temporarily drown out your sadness.

You’re not even properly listening to Felix as he makes an attempt to comfort you. All you can think about is his words from earlier that echo in your head, “you need closure.”.

“Closure!” You blurt randomly, making Felix jump a little. “How do I get closure?” You turn to him, waiting eagerly for an answer.

“Um... I don’t know.” He replies after taking a moment to think.

“You could just call him and tell him you’re over him?” Jisung shrugs, adding his thoughts into the conversation casually. You both turn to look at him, not having realised that he’d even entered the room. “You are meaning Minho right?” He adds when you both fail to give any reaction, his eyes darling between you.

“How’d you even know what we’re talking about?” Felix questions, feeling just as confused as you are, though you are a little tipsy and so don’t really care that Jisung knows.

“It’s obvious.” Jisung brushes off the question, snaking around you to pour himself another drink.

“I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna call him.” You assertively state, both guys attention firmly back on you now.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Felix tries to reason with you. As the more sober one out of the two of you, he feels the need to make you evaluate your choices before you go through with them.

“Absolutely.” You nod, high-fiving Jisung when he excitedly encourages you, happy that you’d listened to his advice.

The next morning you wake to a commotion coming from the kitchen. You had crashed on the sofa last night, it being too late and you being too drunk to go home.

“What’s going on in here?” You groggily question, barely able to open your eyes properly as you drag yourself into the kitchen.

“I opened the cupboard and a load of plates almost fell out on me.” Minho answers whilst struggling to gently place all the plates that he had caugh onto the counter. “How was last night with the guys?” He turns to face you, sending you a soft smile.

“There was a lot of alcohol and games.” You chuckle, scratching your head before realising how messy your hair is and trying to tidy it up a little. “How was your second date?” You counteract, wanting to know the details even though it hurts. It really does feel like deja vu and yet, although you’ve been through a similar situation before, the sting in your chest doesn’t hurt any less.

“I had a really great time, we get on really well, you know? Like we just click.” Minho beams. He seems genuinely happy, which conflicts your emotions. One part of you is happy, because you only want what’s best for him, but the other part is devistated. “Do you mind if I just check my messages, I left my phone here last night so I haven’t had the chance yet.” Minho excuses himself.

“Not at all, go ahead.” You respond through a yawn, bashfully waving your hand at him as you’re still half asleep. You feel like there’s something you are meant to remeber but you can’t put your finger on it. Something that happened last night... and you wreck your brain as you trudge back towards the sofa.

“Oh, (Y/N). It says I’ve got a voicemail from you.” Minho calls out to you. That’s when you finally wake up, your eyes growing wide in fear as you spin around and launch yourself across the room towards Minho.

“Minho, no!” You shout. But it’s too late, he’s already listening to the message you left him while in your drunken state.

“You’re over me?” His face falls, looking deflated as you repeatedly whisper “no, no, no, no.” to yourself.

“This can’t be happening.” You faceplam into your hands in distress.

“You’re over me? When were you under me?” Minho more so talks to himself rather than to you. When he finally turns to look at you, he sees you already staring back at him, looking mortified.

“It’s not what you think!” You cry, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You had feelings for me?” Minho’s question comes out as more of a realisation. You aren’t even sure if he can hear you, he’s completely spaced out. “When?” He zones back into reality a second later, pressing for more answers when he sees you nod in response to his previous question.

“When you left for tour.” You squeak, your throat feeling tight from trying to hold back your tears.

“For that long? And you never told me?” Minho takes a step towards you, his tone conveying his anger. And although it seems like he is mad at you on the outside, he’s really mad at himself for not noticing sooner.

“How could I? You’d just met someone else and you seemed really happy, I didn’t want to ruin that for you.” You explain, defending the reason for keeping your feelings a secret, though it comes across more like you are pleaing at him.

“So you’re just suddenly over me?” He questions, not seeming so enraged now. Confusion has clouded Minho’s mind as he processes all the information.

“Well, what else was I meant to do?” You stare up at him innocently.

“Tell me how you feel!” Minho exclaims a little harsher than what he intended to. He instantly backtracks when he sees you flinch at the volume of his voice. “(Y/N) I’ve been in love with you for so long, I would have picked you over anyone.” He softens his voice, becoming quieter and more gentle as he reaches out his hand to take yours.

You look down as your fingers intertwine together before you feel his other hand under your chin, drawing your gaze back to meet his.

“Really?” You gush, captivated by the intense affection that’s pouring out of him. This has to be a dream...

“Of course.” He whispers. “So, are you really over me?” He asks again, though this time you can see the hope behind his eyes and the nervousness in his chest as he bites down on his bottom lip in anticipation.

“No...” you fail to hide the shy smile that breaks out across your lips. Your gaze darting to look away briefly before flicking back up to Minho when you hear him let out a chuckle in relief.

“Good, because I have no idea what I would have done if you’d said you had.” He elatedly smiles, drawing you closer in his arms as they settle around your waist.

You can feel a warmth in your chest as you stare into each other’s eyes, foreheads resting together and lips inches apart.

Letting out a deep, contented sigh as your eyes flutter shut, you know that this is home. In Minho’s arms. That this is how it was always meant to be.

#stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshots #stray kids angst #stray kids series #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop oneshots #kpop series

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Freezer Burn

I’m having to rush to post this because I’m at the river again, so I’ll clean this fic up and add a Read More when I get home. For now, enjoy!

———————

“It’s so pretty!” Kitty cried, bounding from the car towards the glittering frozen lake.

“Oi! Wait up!” Anne yelled, tugging on her puffy green coat and racing after her cousin. Cleves and Maggie were close on her tail, eager to get out in the open.

“Be careful!” Aragon shouted, helping the others take out all their things, thick wasn’t that much- a few chairs, some blankets, snacks and water bottles, items for games, and, of course, the ice skates.

Jane shook her head fondly with a laugh. “And there they go.”

“Dummies.” Aragon sighed, then smiled. “Come on. Let’s go catch up.”

They crunched through the thick layer of snow over the ground, chatting over what they were planning on doing. Behind them, another pair of footsteps trudged after them.

“Will you stop moping?” Jane sighed, swinging her head around to the girl who mimicked her appearance nearly exactly.

Joan wrinkled her nose. She folded her arms up closer to hold herself tighter and shuffled her feet nervously, then immediately regretted that decision when a few chunks of snow got into her boots. She shook her foot with a pitiful expression plastered on her tired face.

“It’s cold.” She said for the hundredth time.

“We know, dear,” Aragon said gently, although Jane could tell she was a little frustrated from the way she flared out her nostrils. She had been looking forward to this trip for a long time and definitely didn’t want it to be ruined for her. “But you’ll warm up soon.”

“How?” Joan said miserably. “Also, this is dangerous! An actual ice rink would be a lot better...” She looked around, as if she were expecting a glacier to suddenly appear and crush all of them.

“But expensive.” Jane pointed out.

“And packed.” Aragon added. She was getting more irritated by the second and kept glancing longingly at the frozen lake behind her. “Come on, it’s not that bad. You’ll have fun!”

Joan made a face and looked like she was trying to pull a scenario where she did have a good time, but wasn’t finding anything in the whirlwind that was her mind.

“But- but-” She scrambled after Jane and Aragon as they continued their trek. Cathy, Maria, and Bessie had already gone ahead and made it down to the bay, where they were currently putting on their ice skates (although Bessie was insisting that she didn’t need them). “What if we- we could- we could fall through! Or get hypothermia! Or frostbite!” She cast a nervous glance at her glove-covered hands, as if she were imaging what it would be like playing the keyboard without all her fingers. When she looked up again, Jane and Aragon were several paces away. “Wait!”

She caught up to the two queens, walking alongside Jane, who practically seemed like the pompous, more confident version of her. When they reached the shore, she took one glance at the lake and then backed up several steps.

“Come on, Joan,” Jane said with a sigh. “Don’t be such a buzzkill.”

Aragon laughed. “Real mature, Jane.”

Jane grinned at her, then crouched down to get her ice skates on. Aragon does the same, while Joan, unsurprisingly, hangs back. She’s now directed her attention to the others, who have already begun sliding on the ice. She took another step back.

“Joan, dear, everything will be fine.” Aragon told her. Joan gave her a betrayed look. “Jane, are you done?”

Jane laughed. “Go ahead and start without me. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Aragon nodded and hurried out onto the ice without a second of hesitation. Jane stood up a moment later, wobbling slightly on the ice skates. Behind her, she heard Joan mutter a soft, “Please be careful” before she joined the others on the lake.

Joan is left alone on the shore, sitting in a spot she’s dug out for herself without any snow. She hugged her knees and watched everyone have fun, but she couldn’t bring herself to join them. A million bad situations were running through her head: The ice cracking and everyone falling in, hypothermia, frostbite, falling through the ice again, a sudden blizzard and they all freeze to death, drowning- all of them drowning was her most persistent fear. And it was something they should be worrying about, too, but she guessed it didn’t cross their mind at all.

She sighed and rested her chin on her knees. She could already imagine what they were thinking about her: Why is Joan always so mopey? and Why does Joan always have to ruin this for us? and Why did Joan even come along if she’s going to act so miserable? and What’s wrong with Joan?. They were all just going on in their heads about how terrible she was, she just knew it.

Well, she didn’t need them. She could have fun on her own!

Joan stood up and explored down the perimeter of the lake, far enough to where she couldn’t hear the other’s voices, but close enough to where she could still see them. From her position, they were just colorful dots sliding haphazardly across the ice. Even from a distance it still made her nervous. How could they do something so stupid and dangerous?

She sighed and poked the ice with her foot worriedly, then immediately drew her leg back. She frowned and continued down the bay, deep in thought.

You’re dragging them all down, Her mind mumbled ruefully. You want them to like you, and yet you continue to act like this. A buzzkill. Is that what you want to be? The person who ruins everything for everyone?

Joan shook her head softly and glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see one of her friends coming to hang out or play with her. She perked up when she saw that someone was skating over to her, but then immediately deflated when she saw the hot pink of the jacket they were wearing.

“What do you want?” She grumbled at Kitty, who skidded to a halt in front of her on the ice.

“Ah, so you guessed I’m not over here for your bubbly personality,” Kitty said with a light giggle that earned her a scowl that could melt the ice beneath her feet. “I just wanted to talk.”

“About what?” Joan asked skeptically, eyeing the youngest queen up and down. She didn’t look like she was going to try anything, especially on those ice skates. Although they could probably cut her if she put them against her skin with enough force.

“Oh, you know,” Kitty twirled her wrist. She glanced momentarily back at the others. “Okay, I’ll just cut to the chase.” She inched further to the bay. “Joan, you’re kinda...bringing everyone else down.”’

“What?” Joan said sharply.

“You’re trying to convince everyone that they’re going to die or something.” Kitty clarified. “It’s weird. And kinda creepy.”

Joan crossed her arms. “Because being on fragile ice is dangerous!” She snapped, but Kitty rolled her eyes.

“We’re trying to have fun.” She said. She peered at Joan for a moment then tilted her head at her as if she were a peculiar art sculpture. “You know, I think I’ve finally got you figured out.”

Joan stepped back a little. “What?” She growled.

“You’re like a bomb.” Kitty declared. “That puts everyone in danger. And we’re all just waiting for when you’ll finally go off.”

Joan flinched as if she had been sprayed with the venom loaded in the young queen’s words. She took another step away, but Kitty just slid closer to her like a hideous poisonous snake just waiting to sink her fangs into her prey’s throat.

“You don’t think I don’t notice the way to eye Jane and I all the time?” Kitty went on. “It’s so creepy. You’re so jealous. You’re gonna pop one day and I’m scared you might hurt one of us.” She extended a hand and set it on Joan’s shoulder, smirking softly at the shivers she felt pulsing beneath her palm. “And I’m very worried about you. You need help.”

Joan clawed off Kitty’s hand and glared at the queen. She ruffled herself up to her full size, but even Katherine Howard was more intimidating than her.

“Get the fuck away from me.” She seethed. Kitty looked unfazed by her rage; her face continued to wear the mock-concerned expression that made Joan want to gouge her eyeballs out with her thumbs.

Oh dear, Joan thought, alarmed. Is that what Katherine meant? She glanced momentarily at her hands, half expecting them to be dripping with blood and eyeball fluids. No- no, of course not! Katherine doesn’t know anything about me! I’m not a bad person!

“Joey? Joey?” Kitty is waving a hand in front of Joan’s face. She smiled innocently at the scowl she earned. “There you are! You kinda drifted off for a moment.” Her mock-concern returned to her facial features. “Are you feeling alright?” She extended a hand to feel Joan’s forehead and it was slapped away.

“I said to leave me alone!” Joan barked. She advanced on Kitty, but jolted backwards the moment her foot touched the ice. Kitty laughed loudly- it was a terrible, high-pitched cackling noise that rattled in her ears.

“I expect no less from you,” She said, smiling crookedly. She slid back against the ice, moving elegantly on her skates. “Bye, Joey!”

Joan was left fuming, but her rage was quickly snuffed out when a cold breeze blew past her. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, staring down at the faint reflection glimmering back at her on the ice.

That bitch. Her mind seethed. The usual drizzle that cascaded through her head has picked up into a downpour of angry thoughts; Kitty being left out here ‘on accident’ and turning into a hot pink popsicle, Kitty getting pelted in the face with a snowball that has a rock hidden in it, Kitty falling through the ice and freezing to death.

She quickly silenced them, however. As much as she didn’t like the youngest queen, she didn’t want her dead. Not exactly. But she wouldn’t be devastated if she got hypothermia by some chance.

I’m not- I’m not a fucking bomb! If anyone is a bomb it’s her! She raged internally, stomping her foot against the frozen dirt blanketing the bay. With her trauma and tragic backstory and sadness! Oh, who am I kidding? She’s living in the lap of luxury. She’s anything BUT a bomb. She’s just a pampered pink Pomeranian! Haha...nice alliteration.

She shook her head, leering at the ice, which bounced back with a painfully bright glare. She scrunched her eyes shut and sighed.

I’m not dragging everyone down, either... I can have fun!

She stepped onto the ice, immediately backed away, and then took several seconds to try again. This time, she manages to get both feet onto the surface and stand there. The ice creams beneath her, but doesn’t crack. She took another step after a moment of waiting, then another, then another, until she’s far away from the shore. A feeling of pride welled in her chest, beating down the underlying sensation of fear and anxiety and worry.

Haha! Suck my ass, Katherine! Her mind declared triumphantly. Who’s a coward now?

She wasn’t up to skating, especially without proper skates, but she at least tried to slide a few inches. It was pretty fun- she could see why the others would enjoy this, but she definitely preferred to be at a proper ice rink.

Joan scooted herself around to face the distant figures of the queens and ladies in waiting, and was upset to see that they weren’t even looking in her direction. She really wanted them to see how she WASN’T a buzzkill and she DID know how to have fun, but they didn’t even seem to care about her anymore. They were too busy messing around on the ice and playing with some hockey sticks that were brought along to notice her.

Joan sighed and shivered as a cold breeze whisked past her. She waited for a moment longer, shifting her weight when her knees got tired, and heard a terrible, nightmarish sound from below her.

Crack-crack-crack.....

Cobwebs were spread out from the ice below one of Joan’s feet. They were thin, but deep trenches, like dreadful claw marks created by a horrible monster. Suddenly, nothing makes sense and that only makes her panic even more. The fear of the unknown keeps her mind from functioning rationally. She can’t breathe, she can’t run, she can’t escape.

Stay still. Her mind whispered to her. It’s not a drizzle nor a hurricane anymore, but a vicious hailstorm. Maybe you can call for help.

She looked back at the others, who were still sliding and skidding around without a care in the world, so oblivious to the danger she’s in just several meters away. She opened her mouth to yell for them, but nothing came out, not even a whimper or a whine. And even if she could, what could they do? If they got too close, the whole lake may collapse and they’ll all fall in. Why would they even help her, anyway? They’ve all proven that she’s just a nuisance. In fact, they would probably enjoy watching her freeze to death.

A star-shaped crack burst out from the first one, and a whimper finally surfaced in Joan’s throat. She looked up at the dark grey sky, a hot tear ran down her left cheek, and then the ice gave way under her feet and she plunged into the freezing water.

For a brief moment, she felt burning hot, but then the cold hit her like a thousand knives, sharp and insistent, driving the breath from her lungs. She tried to flounder to the surface, but even with the adrenaline rush momentarily teaching her how to swim, she still couldn’t get out. She couldn’t find the hole she fell through. She was trapped under a thick, impenetrable floor of ice.

Joan screamed, clawing desperately at the sheet of ice above her, but it does no good. Even when she hits at it, it doesn’t dent.

With a jarring shock, she realizes that this is how she died.

As her mind began to waver, succumbing to the cold, she cried for her parents to help her, but it's no use: they couldn't help her. They’re gone. Dead. And even if they weren’t, they wouldn’t help her, anyway. So, she cried for John, she cried for Jane, she cried for Aragon and everyone else, wishing that she had been more likable, that she didn’t stop them from doing stuff because she thought it was too dangerous and making them mad in the process, that she hadn’t have worried all the time, that she could actually call them her friends without her stomach sinking in a horrible, disbelieving way.

But it didn’t matter anymore. In just a few more moments, her lungs would finally give out, and then it would all be over.

———

“Holy shit!”

“Is she down there?!”

“What happened?! What’s going on?!”

“Oh my god—!!”

“Should I call an ambulance?!”

“What are you-”

“Where is she-”

“What is-”

“Mum, what are you doing?!”

The queens and ladies in waiting watched as Jane haphazardly sprinted across the frozen lake to the jagged hole created near the center and fell to her knees so hard cracks spread out beneath her. She crawled to the edge of the icy abyss and peered down, then scuttled backwards and frantically began scanning the ice until, suddenly, she raised her hands and began hitting at the surface. After a few swings, the ice shatters and she nearly fell in while grabbing at something. A moment later, she’s dragging something out of the water.

Joan.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jane cursed, staring in horror at the curled up body before her. She glanced momentarily at the others on the bay, then back at Joan, who was shivering in a horrifying way that reminded Jane of the way she had trembled after she gave birth to Edward.

Suddenly, Joan coughed and water came flooding out of her mouth. The freezing shock seemed to register in her body and she let out a strangled cry that’s thick with frigid lake water. She gargled on it, too weak to scream or even cough anymore.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” Jane told her, cupping one of her cheeks and turning her face up to her. The shade of blue her skin has turned to terrified her. “Fuck... Fuck!”

Jane scooped Joan up into her arms and made a beeline for the shore. She could hear the ice breaking all around her, and for a few horrific moments her feet would dip into the freezing water below, but she managed to get back to the others.

“Holy shit!” Cleves cried, bug-eyeing the blue, shivering body in Jane’s arms. “Fuck, is she- is she okay?!”

“No!” Jane snapped, racing past them back to the cars. “She’s going to fucking freeze to death!”

The others hurried after her, exchanging looks behind her back. It was a little...odd for Jane to be so concerned about Joan of all people. Most of them would have guessed she would enjoy watching the music director sink to the bottom of the frozen lake and drown. But here she was, carrying Joan through the snow like a frantic search-and-rescue officer.

They all skidded to a halt in front of the cars. Joan was shivering even more than before and her teeth have started to clatter up against each other loudly. Her moon silver eyes were glassy and glazed over, but they stared up at Jane with hope that the woman wouldn’t let her die- that she would save her. And Jane looked determined to do just that.

“What do we do?” Jane snapped her head at Cathy, who jolted slightly under her sharp gaze. “How do we help her?”

Cathy stumbled over her words for a moment before she’s able to get her head on straight. “Well— first of all, stop being so rough with her!”

“I’m not being rough!” Jane growled. “Just tell me what to do!”

“We should take her to the hospital,” Maria piped up.

That seemed to wake Joan up, because the girl suddenly whimpered and shook her head stiffly.

“N-no,” She choked out through her chattering teeth. “N-n-no h-hospital...c-can’t...go...n-no, J-J-Jane d-don’t l-l-l-let them—”

Jane looked down at Joan and knew exactly what she was fearing. She gave Maria a hard stare.

“We’re not taking her to the hospital. That’ll make her worse.”

“Actually, believe it or not, hospitals do the exact opposite of that.” Anne pointed out.

Jane looked at her like she wanted to rip her head off and feed it to some vultures.

“Yes, so she can panic and have a possible heart failure from her anxiety?” She said. “Not happening.” She whipped her gaze back to Cathy. “Come on. You’re supposed to be the smart one who knows everything. Tell me what to do. How do I help her?”

Joan made a miserable noise in Jane’s arms and the queen held her closer to her chest. She buried her half-frozen face against it, desperate for warmth and clearly not caring if it took burrowing against a bosom to get it.

“Skin-to-skin contact.” Cathy blurted. “It’s- it’s not the only way, but it’s the best way. Body heat would be more efficient than blankets.”

Everyone seemed to share a moment of secondhand embarrassment, aside from Jane, who just looked determined. She nodded.

“Alright.”

“Okay, so who’s getting naked?” Kitty said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood, but Jane scowled at her and she hunched her shoulders in and looked away.

“Wait, hold on,” Anne said. “You’re not- look, I get it, we don’t want Joan to freeze to death, but getting naked with her? Can’t we just wrap her up in some blankets and then put her in a hot bath once we get back home?”

Cathy shook her head. “Putting her in hot water could make her heartbeat irregular. She may go into shock and, well-” A grim expression flitted through her eyes. “Die.”

“Good thinking, Anne.” Jane spit. “I’ll do it.”

“But-”

“She’s seen me give birth before,” Jane said to Aragon, who was trying to reprimand. Her eyes softened slightly when she spoke to the first queen, who, unlike everyone else, genuinely looked worried about Joan. “Look, I know you’re close to her, but it’ll be less awkward like this. She’s seen my vagina already- there will be less harm in me seeing hers.”

“I mean- that’s one way to put it.” Maggie tilted her head, blinking.

“I hope you won’t be looking down there.” Cleves added.

Aragon opened her mouth, possibly to argue, but just ended up saying, “Alright. But I’m driving you guys home.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jane said. She nodded at one of the cars and Cathy scrambled to open it. She turned around at the others after setting Joan inside. “A little privacy?”

The others jolted and immediately began dispersing. Jane turned her attention back to Joan, who suddenly looked much worse. She gently touched the girl’s icy cheek and she leaned into the touch.

“You’re going to be okay,” Jane whispered.

Joan doesn’t answer, but she does shudder when a breeze of frigid air whisked through the open door. However, it cannot compete with whatever shard of ice has taken lodging in her core. Jane shut the car door after Aragon handed her all the blankets they brought with them, then got to the process of peeling off all of Joan’s layers, including her undergarments. She wanted to keep them on to leave the poor girl some dignity, but they were practically frozen to her chest and groin, so they had to go, too.

After draping a green blanket that’s dappled with white spots over her shaking patient, Jane removed her clothing and then realized what exactly she was doing. She bit her lip, feeling flutters of embarrassment flit in her stomach, but she shoved them down. She could wallow in humiliation later.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as Joan’s freezing skin pressed against her warm stomach. She was still very wet, even without all her clothes on, so Jane started to wipe off her horribly blue skin with one of the blankets while holding her close to her. Joan nuzzled into her chest and Jane winced in embarrassment, but, once again, pushed it aside. Joan needed her warmth if she wanted to live.

“You’re going to be okay,” Jane whispered. She wrung out the wet blonde mop that was Joan’s hair and cold water came splashing down onto the blankets swaddling both of them. “I promise. You’re going to be just fine... I’ve got you.”

Aragon got into the driver’s seat a moment later, but didn’t look back at them, which Jane appreciated. She and Joan may have been both completely covered in blankets, but she still preferred to not be ogled at.

“How is she?” Aragon asked, pulling out of the small clearing.

“Still cold.” Jane answered, looking down at the head resting on her chest. She slipped a finger under Joan’s chin and lifted her head up slightly. “Joan? Joan?”

“‘S m’name,” Joan managed, peeling open one cloudy grey eye. “J-J-Jane?”

“Joan,” Jane said again, this time relieved. “You’re awake.”

“Th-th-think s-so,” Joan mumbled, then her body shuddered in that horrible, frightening way. She coughed weakly, which seemed to grate through her chest like icicle spears. “H-hurts...”

“I know, sweetie,” Jane whispered. The pet name gets Aragon to glance over for the first time, but her eyes quickly dart away when Jane looks up at the rearview mirror. “But you’re going to be okay. You just need to stay away for me.”

“Tired,” Joan panted, flopping her head back onto Jane’s chest. She was like a miserable, wet, shaking, bundle of anxiety in her arms.

“Here,” Aragon reached back. “Put this against her chest.” In her hand was one of the pouches they brought with them. It would heat up when squeezed.

“Thanks.” Jane took it and slipped one hand under the blankets to hold the pouch to Joan’s chest. Immediately, the girl whined faintly, attempting to squirm away, be failing and giving up after a moment. She resumed shaking and chattering her teeth and panting weakly for the rest of the drive. When her eyes would open, Jane noticed that they looked deeply troubled and stricken by something other than the hypothermia she was infected with. She wanted to ask about it, but knew it was hardly the time.

“Jane, Jane...” Joan began to mumble at some point in the drive. She pressed her face into the warmth of Jane’s neck, exhaling a shaking breath. Her fingernails scratched against the queen’s bare skin, desperate for a hold. “J-Jane...”

“I’m right here,” Jane whispered to her. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m right here, honey.”

“Jane...” Joan muttered again, this time more contently. She blinked a few times and looked down. “You’re naked.”

Aragon snorted, but immediately tried to smother it. Even Jane had to bite back a smile.

“Yes,” She said. “I am.”

“That’s weird.” Joan said. “Am I naked?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” Joan closed her eyes and shivered against Jane’s stomach. “You’re really, really warm...”

“I know, love.” Jane stroked her wet hair. “And soon you will be, too.”

“By cuddling naked?”

Aragon laughed this time.

“Hush,” Jane told Joan softly. “You’re doing so good. Just keep breathing and I’ll make sure you stay warm.”

“I like that plan...” Joan mumbled tiredly.

When they finally reach the house, Joan has slipped off into a daze. She’s still shivering, but not as badly. Aragon smiled slightly.

“You did good, Jane,” She said. “I’ll take her from here. You can get dressed and then join us inside.”

“Yes, because I was definitely planning on walking up to our house naked.” Jane rolled her eyes playfully.

Aragon laughed and then picked Joan up, making sure she was still swathed in all the blankets. The moment she’s gone, Jane felt a strange chill run through her and her arms seemed a lot more empty. She shook her head, deciding to just cuddle with Kitty later to get over it.

But why did it feel like Kitty wouldn’t satisfy her...?

“Thank you, Jane.” Aragon said to her. “Really.”

Jane smiled at her, although she couldn’t take her eyes off of Joan.

“It was no problem.” She said. “Just— take care of her, okay? God knows she needs someone to...”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction #katherine howard #anne boleyn #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #joan on the keys #maggie on the guitar #anna of cleves #maria on the drums #catherine parr #bessie on the bass

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second-chance-stray · 3 years

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Rp Log: Rising, Riylli, and Cravs apologize to each other over drinks.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli sat alone at the table, impatiently awaiting the two Roegadyns appearance. Despite being the one to reach out to the two of them, the Miqo'te had a grumpy look on her face and had already gotten started with her drink. She absolutely did not seem to want to be here, but it was definitely too late now to leave

(Rising Lotus) Was keeping close to Cravs as they walked in, looking a bit hesitant about the whole night out. After glancing at Riylli sitting down, she avoided the miqo'te's gaze, looking at the ground or around the inn on her way over, keeping her gaze downward as she took a seat across from her.

(Cravendy Hound) As usual, Cravs is pretty late. She kicks open the saloon’s doors and then saunters over to Riylli’s table, happily looking forward to a night of drinking with some friends. But why does the miqo’te look so upset? Cravs takes a seat besides her and gives Riylli’s shoulder a good shake. “Why the long face? Let’s get this show on the road!”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli simply raises an eyebrow towards Cravs' friendly greeting, getting caught off guard and at least for the moment forgetting she was supposed to be looking grumpy. "Uh... Hey." The Miqo'te hit the pair with the tried and true opener. "I ordered you guys some mead already. I dunno if that's what you like, but... It's pretty good here..?"

(Cravendy Hound) “Been ‘ere afore, and I agree. Some places, it’s best to stick to somethin’ tried an true.” Cravs raises a hand to catch the barkeeps attention, and without words he goes over to fill a glass with her usual. “Nice of ye to invite us out!”

(Rising Lotus) Rising was quick to take the mug off the table and take a long swig out of it, taking a deep breath afterwards as she set her drink down. "..Thanks." she managed to mutter out, continuing her awkward fidgeting. She kept look like she was trying to say something more but then rethinking it.

(Cravendy Hound) ...djfksld I AM. BAD AT READING. I guess Cravs is ordering a second round without finishing the first, but that's still in character for her xD ))

(Riylli Aliapoh) "...Yeah well, wasn't my idea..." She mumbles awkwardly, taking a pull from her drink to buy herself some time. "My friends wouldn't stop pestering me about it. And if were gonna be fightin' together and stuff then it's no good to let bad blood linger" She said with an awkward shrug, keeping her eyes fixed on the table

(Cravendy Hound) “Why ye actin’ like ye got a bellyful of marbles, Risin’?” Cravs sasses, brow raised playfully. But at the mention of ‘bad blood,’ her tune changes...somewhat. “Ey wot? Someone mad at someone else?”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli squints at the Seawolf for a moment before bringing her hand to her face. "You... Don't even remember, do you. Ugh!" The Miqo'te lets out a frustrated sigh, then turned to Rising while gesturing towards Cravs. "Why are you even so mad at me anyway!? We should be teaming up on this drunkard!"

(Rising Lotus) Groans a bit, running her ungloved hand over her hair before sighing. "I guess you probably don't remember, you were pretty gone when I threw ya on the couch.." she paused as she thought over her next words "Riylli an I got a bit...frustrated I guess, which each other." she deflated a bit as brought it up. "I-I..I didn't mean too..it was jus' in the moment.."

(Cravendy Hound) Cravs sucks in her lips. Oh, but she DOES remember...enough, anyway. She had just assumed it was all in good fun. Messing around that may have gotten a little heated, but a passing thing. “Oh. Hmmm. Hm. HM.”

(Cravendy Hound) "Not my fault I was born to drink." Cravs follows through and takes a hearty chug from her mead.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli decides to take a rather long pull from her drink, deciding that this was not a situation that she wanted to deal with while sober. "Someone born to drink wouldn't be such a lightweight..."

(Rising Lotus) Let out an irritated sigh. "If you would've waited until the damn thing was inside to drink this wouldn't a happened.." she sat up a bit. "You kind of ditched us to do all the hard work."

(Cravendy Hound) “I am. NOT. A lightweight!” Cravs blusters. It seems Riylli has touched a nerve. “Just got slammed on some of the strongest stuff possible in a short while. Who wouldn’t after fightin’ a spider...monster.” But to Rising’s comment, she has nothing to say. Cravs huffs.

(Riylli Aliapoh) "Uh huh. Well I ain't carrying you home." Riylli mutters, giving Cravs the side-eye. Not that she could carry her at all really, but that's beside the point.

(Rising Lotus) Rising had finished off her first drink and had started on the second round Cravs had ordered, eyeing the other roegydan after her outburst. "I get that..but you left that thing shoved in the doorway an' Riylli an' I had to do most the work." she glanced at Riylli, looking down to the table again afterwards. "Could've banged it out easily together an' drank at the company bar."

(Cravendy Hound) Pulling an apology out of Cravs is like pulling teeth. She knows she ought to, that it was a jerk move to toss a problem onto someone else’s shoulder. But a powerful pressure keeps any sorry words lodged in her throat. It simply isn’t something she’s done that much, and feels as unnatural as breathing water. After a long while, it all bursts out...as a garbled and quiet cough.

(Riylli Aliapoh) RIylli nods to Rising. "I bet with the three of us there we coulda just pushed it on through." She says, giving herself a lot of credit. "Instead me and Rising had to carve the damned thing like it was a bird. I wonder what happened to all that meat... Hope whatever animal that ate it didn't get sick..." She murmured to herself, getting distracted thanks to the fuzzy feeling in her head

(Cravendy Hound) “.............well ye two did a better job without me around. So I was. Doin’ ye a favor.” Her voice becomes progressively more and more quiet as she gets to the end. Cravs gives Riylli and Rising a sheepish look. “Bugger.”

(Cravendy Hound) oh noi she sit at table xD )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (We are being forced into an rp event (Riylli Aliapoh) (Thats new (Riylli Aliapoh) (WHAT DO WE DO? PANIC (Cravendy Hound) well! Let's see where this goes LOL ))

Rinnji Larioux: "Hey there, friends." Rinnji says, pulling herself up the lone unoccupied seat at the occupied table. She grins from Roe to Roe to Miqo.

Cravendy Hound is deep in a conversation with her two companions, and the elezen's intrusion into the table does not go unnoticed. Cravs leans forward, pirate swagger at its peak, and nearly growls. "Oy there, 'friend..'"

Rinnji Larioux smiles at you.

Rinnji Larioux: "Hoy!"

Rinnji Larioux: "Just wanted to come tell you lot that those free drinks include your table, and if you're so inclined, you're most welcome to join us."

Rinnji Larioux smiles from face to face, slowly picking up on the tension, but ever the diligent hostess, continues to smile brightly, with a charming, friendly demeanor.

Riylli Aliapoh: "...Thank the gods for that..." Riylli muttered, then immediately downed the rest of her drink and held up her hand for Buscarron to bring her another

Rising Lotus shuffles in her chair awkwardly, giving the elezen a nod as she kept an eye on Cravs. " 'Preciate it.."

Cravendy Hound pauses. "....free? Well that's a different story then. Oy Riyyli, turns out these drinks are on the 'ouse or somethin..." Cravs smirks. "Personally, I'll 'ave to pass on...whatever ye elven folk are doin' over yonder. But thanks for the invitation."

Rinnji Larioux nods to you.

Rinnji Larioux: "...we're a friendly sort."

Rinnji Larioux winks at you.

Cravendy Hound nods farewell to Rinnji, and then it's back to looking mad and being not glad.

(Rising Lotus) The hostess's visit put things a big off track, the three sitting in awkward silence for a few moments before Rising licked her lips and started to speak. "..I'm sorry for snappin' at you Riylli..uh, by the way." she just sort blurted it all out when she spoke.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli grinned as she received a new drink, immediately taking a long swig of this one as well. She blinked as she looked around the room, apparently only just now noticing the crowd. "This place aint usually this busy..." She began, only to get caught off guard again by the sudden apology. "Uh... Yeah, it's... Fine or whatever." She responded awkwardly. She was not drunk enough for this dammit. "I'm sorry too, and all that..."

(Cravendy Hound) Cravs looks side to side, growing just a bit panicked. Now that they’ve both said sorry, then that would leave her, right? Godsdamned it all, but it’s like speaking in a foreign language for her. After a great deal of effort, she grumbles something under her breath. It vaguely resembles an apology, but gets drowned out by the sounds of revelry nearby.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli's ear flickers and her attention is drawn to Cravs and her discomfort. Immediately she grins and leans forward, flicking her tail to one side. "Oh no you don't. You ain't getting out of this that easy, say it louder!"

(Rising Lotus) Rising finally cracked as smile at Riylli's response to Cravs' apology. "...I guess to be fair all the fun their havin' really is makin' this weird for us. Hard to be mopey an' say sorrys with them havin' a good time."

(Cravendy Hound) “WHAT. Piss n’ wind, yer -killin’- me ‘ere!” Cravs groans. But she won’t find a sympathetic soul here, not when her entire company consists of the people she’s wronged. “Would bloody rather ‘ave me keelhauled then deal with this shit.”

(Cravendy Hound) She finishes her glass, face red from...embarrassment? The effort of trying to ekk out an apology. Finally, with the exact same volume level as the first attempt, she repeats herself. “.....mmrgfghsorry...”

(Riylli Aliapoh) "No. No. No." Riylli shook her head disapprovingly. "C'mon, even I said it! And outta all of us, you're the one who should really be sayin' it the most! Is the big strong Roegadyn really too afraid to say a tiny little word?" Riylli tutted, clearly getting a little bit of revenge in for getting ditched with the spider

(Rising Lotus) Rising was close to finishing off her second drink by now, snickering at Riylli's teasing. "Aye, I guess it's good to know I'm the strong one between the two of us though, leaves less to wonder on which one of us is the best for the company." she flexed her exposed bicep. "Rising, powerful AND can apologize."

(Cravendy Hound) “Ay shove it! I said it twice already! An’ I swear, every time I say it again I lose a year offa my life. Blast, I - I need more drink.” Cravs sputtered. Thankfully, it’s around now that a barkeep comes over with the second round, and she quickly moves to snatch and down another cup.

(Cravendy Hound) Cravs is absolutely SEETHING. She pouts at Rising and glares at her bicep. “Powerful? Bet I can beat ye in an arm wrestlin’ contest. Bet I can beat both of ye, hah!”

(Riylli Aliapoh) "Oh no ya don't!" Riylli suddenly stood and grabbed the cup as well, trying to keep it from the Roegadyn woman and spilling just a little onto the floor, though her rosy-cheeked grin would make it clear she probably didn't care much. "If we didn't hear you, it don't count!"

(Cravendy Hound) "Risin' 'eard it! Didn't ye?!" Cravs growls. She scowls and gives a threatening look to the other Roegadyn. "Didn't. YE."

(Cravendy Hound) Cravs backed into a corner = ATTACKATTACKATTACK. Make things worse xD ))

(Rising Lotus) Assisted Riylli, putting her palm over the top of the mug to ensure nothing spilled but still kept it from Cravs. "I heard you grumble somethin', but who knows what it coulda been...an' I would kick your arse at an arm wrestlin' contest." she grinned devilishly, as soon as they squeezed that apology out of her that was what was coming next.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli shook her head. "Rising aint got ears like mine anyroad. No way she'd have heard it and not me. Now! Nice and loud, so those elezen folk can hear it too!"

(Cravendy Hound) “Ye don’t use legs in an arm wrestlin’ contest, ye blusterin’ drylander!” Cravs retorts as she stands up. She feels like she’s on burning, like she can run a thousand miles. Her fight or flight instinct is firing on all cylinders and she has no idea what to do.

(Cravendy Hound) “YER BOTH FULL OF A LOAD OF BULL.” Is what comes out. Then, absolutely befuddled and slain by embarrassment, she storms out of the tavern cursing all the while. Out of sight and from afar, she shouts at so great a distance it echoes. “AN’ I’M BLOODY SORRY, ALRIGHT?”

(Cravendy Hound) ... I considered putting that in yell xD )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (SHES MAKING A BREAK FOR IT (Cravendy Hound) RUUUUUuUu nNN )) (Rising Lotus) woops for some reason I thought I was left a lone in the bar one sec xD))

(Rising Lotus) Is wide eyed and quiet as Cravs has her out burst, side eyeing Riylli as she take as moment to process it. "Uh..well I guess she said it...?"

(Riylli Aliapoh) "OY! GET BACK HERE! I DON'T GOT THE GIL FOR THIS!" Riylli calls out, but grins mischievously and grabs her drink before bolting out of the tavern as well. It was not a well thought out plan since Baderon knew who she was, but those were issues for later. "C'MON!"

(Rising Lotus) Rising kept pace with Riylli as she dashed out of the bar, glad that the drinks were on the house.

(Cravendy Hound) Cravs has, in her infinite wisdom, just been rushing headlong into the forest. She finally stops to catch her breath behind a tree and the weight of everything that has happened in the past 20 seconds hits her like a truck. WHAT WAS SHE DOING. Why was she running? How could she ever show her face around Rising and Riylli again? She groans, and then hears them follow suit. Oh god, keep running keeprunning. “D-DON’T FOLLOW ME YE SCRAGS. Also they were free drinks!”

(Riylli Aliapoh) "THESE ARE MY WOODS, YOU CAN'T RUN FROM ME!" Riylli calls out, able to easily catch up to Cravs even as she ducked between the trees. Drunk she may be, but none can escape a Keeper on the hunt on their home turf. She leaps out from behind a tree and grabs onto Cravs, holding tight like she was wrangling a bull. "You aint gettin' away! We're friends now, deal with it!"

(Cravendy Hound) this is so chaotic xD )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (is anyone surprised with these 3

(Rising Lotus) Starts slowing down as the world starts spinning, taking extra care not to smash her skull on a branch or rock. She came upon the sight of the took in the strange embrace, unable to stifle a bit of laughter. "Carefully that she don't buck ya off!" she reached out to try and grapple Cravs as well "Jus' calm down for a damn minute!"

(Cravendy Hound) Cravs stumbles from tree to tree, getting more lost with every turn. Decisions are hard to make when you’re running for your life, alcohol sloshing in your gut. So when Riylli leaps out and grabs her, her first instinct IS to try to toss her off. But the miqo’te held fast, and eventually Crav’s goes from panicked fighting to depressed acceptance. With that, she lowers herself to the floor and just. Lies there. She makes a sound akin to a death rattle.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli removes herself from Cravs and stands, thankfully not drunk enough to cuddle her when she's down. She plants her hands on her hips proudly, her cheeks still rosy as she grinned. "C'mon, did you really think you'd get away? I could smell your trail easy." She declares, either not understanding or not caring about how weird that might sound to the non-Miqo'te.

(Rising Lotus) Panting as Cravs lowered to the ground, she give Riylli a thumbs up. " Damn nice job Riylli!" she knelt down next to the two. "Now I guess I know how you're uh.. feelin' an' all..." she scratched the back of her head, gazing off into the woods. "I was plenty the same when I was sick...all stubborn 'bout it an' all.. but if I didn't let you help me I woulda been way worse off."

(Rising Lotus) rested a hand on Cravendy's shoulder. "you don't think any less of me after seein' me in that pitiful state, at least I hope not.."

(Cravendy Hound) “What?” She wrinkles a nose to Riylli’s offhand comment about smelling.

(Cravendy Hound) “I know. I should’ve just said.” Cravs pauses. She can’t say it, but hell, she can certainly talk around it. “If I said it, then I wouldn’t be in this mess. But I. It’s. Guh.”

(Rising Lotus) I gotta get going unfortunately, need to head to work to do truck T-T )) (Cravendy Hound) ah okies! ty for coming and heck inviting me! this was a blast :D )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (Yeah! Drunken idiot rp is very fun (Rising Lotus) Yeh! no dirtpatch won't be as awkward xD (Cravendy Hound) heheh )) (Rising Lotus) At any rate I need to bounce lol pretty much playing it last minute, if you keep goign send me the rest of the logs where I missed! (Rising Lotus) \o )) (Cravendy Hound) I'll post the logs on my tumblr :3 )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (Rising proceeds to pass out drunk in the middle of the woods (Cravendy Hound) pfff I'll get the torso, you get the legs ))

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli tapped her nose, and then proceeded to not explain at all as she watched Rising pass out onto the forest floor. She stared for a long moment, before looking back towards Cravs. "Lightweights... All of you are damned lightweights."

(Cravendy Hound) “‘I’m not! Feh.” Cravs is too tired to make her point again. And yet a part of her is glad to have been chased down and tackled. Otherwise, she might’ve just run forever. Who knows. An exhausted smile creeps onto her face as she gets back up. “Yer crazy. But...thanks.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli's hands returned to her hips, basking in what she apparently considered praise. "Well... Maybe I'm just used to th' stuff here..." She admitted, her eyes being drawn to the elephant in the room. So to speak. "What are we gonna do with her? Can't exactly leave her out here"

(Cravendy Hound) “Nah. I’m crazy too.” Cravs brushes herself and stands back up. “She’d probably be fine if we left ‘er out ‘ere. Nothin’ but boros and bugs patrolin’ the forest.” She shoot Riylli a dead serious look, then blows out of her nose with a small grin. “Just jokin’. Ye get the legs, I’ll get the body. We can dump ‘er on the couch back at the company.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli looked at Cravs for a moment before coughing awkwardly. "Um... I don't know if... WE can get her all the way back there on our own..." She mumbled, dancing around the obvious issue of her being half the size of either of them. "Why th' hells she gotta wear armour to a tavern anyroad..."

(Cravendy Hound) Cravs picks up most of Rising and grunts under the weight. She waits a moment to allow Riylli grab on, and then starts walking in a random direction. “We’ll get ‘er back. But, uh, could ye show us the way to the road? Otherwise we’ll all be campin’ in the woods tonight.”

(Cravendy Hound) Though it would take awhile, they would get there. Eventually.

#ff14 rp logs #Cravendy Hound #Riylli Aliapoh #Rising Lotus #oh this is much more than apologizing over drinks lmao #Getting cravs to apologize is like giving a bath to a cat #she got there in the end tho! sort of pff

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 4: To The Shore

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

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

Or below the cut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It isn’t fair!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footsteps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alistair stroked his beard, looking torn. “This is true, but I really can’t ignore people hurt in my store…” his face split into a sly grin that made Kodya’s stomach drop. “So Gyrus, you’re hired!”

“I’m what?” Gyrus stared in confusion.

“Wait a minute!” Kodya protested. “You can’t just hire Gyrus!” He was a mermaid for one, with a tail and no social security!

“Why not?” Alistair beamed. “He’s got all the qualifications: He has an understanding of basic math, thinks Andrew Jackson isn’t worthy of his position on the twenty dollar bill, and best of all, he’s really cute!” Alistair winked at Kodya and turned to Gyrus, “So what do you say? I’ll pay you an entry level salary, but with your brain and looks you’re likely to get promoted no problem!”

“You’ll pay me?” Gyrus blinked. “In money?”

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, an amused smile on his lips, just as Nephthys rounded the corner with Fluffy on her shoulder and another woman with red hair helping Nephthys support her. “Time to go Kody!”

Kodya wasted no time, grabbing Gyrus’s wheelchair’s handles as Gyrus scrambled for the grocery bags and began wheeling him out after the three women.

“Wait a minute,” Alistair started, “What happened?” But Nephthys waved her free hand behind her.

“Got it handled, take care of the mess and bill me!” She cried as she pushed through the door, a towel wrapped over Fluffy’s tail as she and the familiar looking stranger carried her out. Kodya and Gyrus followed, leaving a confused Alistair behind as they stepped into the open air.

“Where’s Red?” Kodya asked as soon as they got to the safety of the truck. He and the blue-tailed mermaid never saw eye to eye, but he didn’t want to leave her stuck in there.

“I’m right here,” snapped the woman with the red hair, “or have you gone blind?” Kodya blinked, and blinked again, his brain not catching up with his eyes. His gaze traveled down, from her distinctive red hair, to her odd plated shirt, to the towel tied around her waist, and her….

“You have legs!” Gyrus screamed, finger pointing in shock. Kodya blinked again, and yes. That was what his brain was struggling to comprehend. Before them both stood Red, on two legs and looking utterly human.

Tori placed a hand on her hip. “Yes, thanks to the potion the witch gave me.” She gestured to Nephthys with her other hand.

Kodya’s eyes flicked to Nephthys, and she gave him jazz hands with an awkward smile. “Surprise?”

#room of swords #room of swords fanfic #kodya #gyrus #sylvia #tori #strawbarrow #mermaid au #menfolk are overrated

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buoyantsaturn · 5 years

Text

Ladder Song (1/1)

summary: Will felt himself deflate from an eleven to maybe a nine at most. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that you’re beautiful, and was hoping that I could buy you dinner sometime. If you’re interested, of course.”

The boy’s eyes scanned him once, up and down, before he said, “I’m not,” and plugged his headphone back into his ear as he started to cross the street.

word count: 3,945

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Whenever Will was bored, he would take a mortal form and wander around on Earth for a little while, maybe flirt with a few humans if he was in the mood, try out whatever new food they were attempting - those food trucks were always cooking up the wildest things, and so far he hadn’t been a fan of any of them.

On one particular day, he took the form of tall, tan blond - a surfer type to match the California beach town he’d decided to visit that day - and started walking down one of the streets, hoping that something would catch his eye.

It wasn’t long before something grabbed his attention and refused to let him go. A boy was walking down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, a backpack bouncing against his back with every step and earbuds in his ears to block out what were sure to be numerous catcalls that he no doubt got on the average day. Will felt so drawn to him that he didn’t even notice when he stepped into the street, walking in front of cars and ignoring the screeching of their tires and honking of their horns. He walked up to the boy when he stopped at a crosswalk and smiled his best smile.

“Hi there,” Will said, cranking his charm up to eleven. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but you are the most beautiful person I’ve seen all day and I have to know the secret to your beauty. Maybe you could tell me over dinner?”

The boy raised an eyebrow at him before plucking one of the headphones out of his ear with a simple, “What?”

Will felt himself deflate from an eleven to maybe a nine at most. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that you’re beautiful, and was hoping that I could buy you dinner sometime. If you’re interested, of course.”

The boy’s eyes scanned him once, up and down, before he said, “I’m not,” and plugged his headphone back into his ear as he started to cross the street.

Nico could say that he was used to getting hit on by strangers because it happened to him so frequently, but he was never really used to it. He’d made it his natural reflex to shoot the other person down as quickly and painlessly as possible to ensure that they wouldn’t try anything with him again - mostly because he was usually hit on by girls, who were apparently blind to the rainbow pins all over his backpack - but he was never prepared for the occasional actually attractive guy that hit on him.

Like when he was on his way home from class and the hottest guy he’d ever seen called himbeautiful and all Nico could do was tell him that he wasn’t interested. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he try to have a conversation like a normal person? Why was he like this?

He beat himself up over it for a few days until he’d finally accepted that Crazy Hot Blond Guy was never coming back, and he should worry more about studying for his test at the end of the week instead of impossibly attractive men.

Nico was studying in his favorite coffee shop off campus. He had a class in about half an hour so he’d ordered one last coffee to go and finished up the chapter he was on while he waited. He was just about to start packing his stuff up when someone slid into the seat across from him - Crazy Hot Blond Guy himself.

Nico froze. Even his heart might have stopped beating, he wasn’t sure.

“Hi there,” he said, leaning forward on the table and resting his chin in his hand, his smile just as big and bright as it had been a few days earlier. “What a coincidence that I ran into the handsomest man in town at the last place I look for him. Is there any chance he’d be willing to let me buy him a coffee?”

Nico blinked a few times, his brain struggling to keep up with the conversation - first beautiful, now handsome, and-- wait, no, he has to be talking about someone else now, right? - but before he could respond, he heard his name being called from behind the counter and he launched himself out of his seat, just for a second to clear his head from the conversation.

“Nico, huh?” Blond Guy said when Nico returned to the table, startling him slightly. “That’s a beautiful name, fitting, I’d say.”

“I, uh--” Nico set his drink down on the table and hurriedly packed up his notes and textbooks and why did he have so many pens? “Sorry, I’ve gotta--”

“Running off as soon as I get here?” Blond Guy asked with a pout, and Nico hated the fact that he caused such a thing, but there was nothing he could do about it now, when he was going to be late for class if he didn’t leave right that second.

“I have class,” Nico told him, grabbing his backpack with one hand and his coffee with the other, spinning on his heel and marching out of the coffee shop.

He was halfway to class when he realized that he didn’t manage to get Crazy Hot Blond Guy’s actual name or his phone number.

Will looked incredibly defeated as soon as he arrived in Olympus. He shuffled around, whining and complaining about the prettiest mortal he’d ever seen and didn’t stop until Mitchell pulled him down onto the couch with him, laying him down and resting his head in Mitchell’s lap.

“What’s got Sunshine all mopey?” Calypso asked as she entered the room, spotting the two gods on the couch.

“Something about some mortal,” Mitchell answered, waving a hand in the air so as to brush it off. “I haven’t gotten the whole story yet through all the whining.”

“I’m not whining,” Will groaned, throwing an arm over his face dramatically.

“Sure, honey,” Mitchell told him, running his fingers through Will’s hair.

“He’s the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen and he can barely stand to be around me,” Will complained. “You’d be whiny too if you were me.”

“If you’re that desperate to sleep with him then just like, manipulate him,” Calypso said, like it was just that easy. “Just, like, you know, have sex with him.”

Will frowned, peeking over top of his arm at Calypso with a wince. “I don’t think I want your advice on this.”

Calypso shrugged and turned to leave. “Suit yourself.”

Once she was gone, Will looked back up to Mitchell and whined, “You gotta help me, please!”

Mitchell rolled his eyes and patted Will’s shoulder. “Alright, up. We’re going out.”

Will sat up. “Where?”

“To a bar. Clearly, you need to learn how to flirt so you can get in this guy’s pants, and the best way to learn is through observation.”

Will started to complain with, “But I don’t want to--” when Mitchell snapped his fingers, and suddenly the rest of Will’s argument was drowned out by the overwhelming noise around them. It was so dark that Will could barely see Mitchell as he walked up to the end of the bar and tapped on the shoulder of a very tall man with curly brown hair.

He couldn’t hear anything aside from their introductions, and watched as Mitchell held out a hand to shake. Though instead of simply shaking Connor’s hand, he pulled him down to whisper in his ear. The next thing Will knew, Mitchell was being led away by the hand, throwing a wink over his shoulder to Will before Will lost him in the crowd.

Will huffed, and in the next second, he was back in Olympus, slouching on the couch he’d been on before with his arms crossed, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for Mitchell to return. Seeing as he had no real concept of human time, Will didn’t know how long it took for Mitchell to return, but when he did, his clothes and hair were rumpled as though he’d either had a heated makeout session with Connor or he’d had to redress in a hurry. His makeup, of course, was still perfectly intact.

Mitchell dropped onto the couch next to him with a satisfied sigh and said, “And that’s how it’s done.”

“I don’t just want to sleep with him, Mitchell, I want to date him.”

“What?” Mitchell exclaimed, and grabbed Will’s head to pull him back down to his lap, fingers stroking through his hair once more. “Oh, you poor, sweet thing. Dating is for humans. We’regods.”

“Yes, but he’s human, and I want to date him,” Will said for what felt like the millionth time. “But I can’t get him to notice me for long enough that he agrees to go out with me. What do I need to do?”

Mitchell hummed. “I don’t know, just… Be polite. Be charming. Introduce yourself, have you done that yet?”

“I… no, I don’t think I have.”

“Great, so there’s your first step. Try that, and see where things go from there.”

“Thanks, Mitchell.”

Will went back to the coffee shop he’d last seen Nico at in order to try to find him again. He noticed by a calendar on the wall that about two human weeks had passed since he last spoke to Nico. Will wasn’t sure whether he hoped that Nico remembered him or not.

He was lucky enough to find Nico at a table near the back of the shop, with his notebooks and textbooks and his many, many colored pens scattered across the table. Will stepped up to the table, feeling his hands starting to shake with...nerves? Was he nervous? He’d never been nervous before.

He cleared his throat and said, “Um, excuse me.”

Nico looked up - he was somehow even more beautiful than before - and Will noticed that his eyes widened slightly. He must’ve remembered Will, then. “What?”

“I’ve realized that I never introduced myself to you, and it only seems fair that if I know your name, then you should know mine, too. I’m Will.”

“Oh. Um. Okay,” Nico replied, and dropped his eyes back to the table.

“Would it be alright if I sat down with you?”

“I’m kind of busy.”

“Right, of course, sorry. I’ll leave you to it, but… Could I maybe buy you a drink first?”

Nico looked up at him again with a confused frown. “Um. Sure. Hot chocolate.”

Will’s face split into a bright smile. “Great! Can I get you anything else? A snack, or maybe a sandwich, or… I mean, you probably know the menu here better than I do.”

“Uh, a brownie, I guess?”

“A hot chocolate and a brownie, coming up,” Will said, and went to the counter to order. He watched from the line as Nico returned to his studying, and once he finally had Nico’s order in hand, he made his way back to Nico’s table. He tried to set them out of Nico’s way on the table, but there wasn’t much space that wasn’t taken up already by Nico’s things.

“Thanks,” Nico said, eyes glued to the book in front of him.

“Um, Nico?”

“What?” he replied, sounding annoyed.

“I promise I’ll leave you alone in just a second, but I do have a question I’d like to ask--”

“I’m not going out with you.”

Will grinned. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”

Nico’s head snapped up, his cheeks tinting a light shade of pink in embarrassment as he said, “Oh. Sorry.”

“Is this where you normally study?”

Nico’s embarrassment quickly faded from embarrassment to wariness. “Why?”

“Well, if you study here often, then I’d like to stop by sometime so I can buy you another drink.”

Will did his best to get the timing right, and came back to that same coffee shop the next day. He found Nico at the same table as before, though when he walked up to say hello, Nico shot him a glare.

“It’s been three days,” Nico told him. “You owe me a ton of drinks now.”

Will’s heart leapt in his chest as his emotions swung from fear to relief to excitement as he smiled at Nico and said, “Hot chocolate and a brownie again?” Nico nodded, and so Will went to order.

Once he returned, he didn’t ask before sitting down across from Nico, setting the food and drink on the table between them. Nico raised an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t ask before you sat.”

“I figure that if I’m going to keep buying you drinks then I’ll need to stay nearby,” Will told him. “Is that alright?”

Though Nico’s gaze was still focused on the textbook in front of him, Will could see the slightest of blushes gracing Nico’s cheeks. “I guess so.”

Nico reached for his drink, and seemed to startle when he looked up and met Will’s gaze. Will took that moment to ask, “What are you studying?”

“Shakespeare,” Nico answered immediately. “I’m an English major.”

“Fascinating,” Will replied. “I could probably help you study, if you’re interested. Or maybe I could take you out for dinner sometime?”

Nico hesitated before he asked, “Where?”

“Wherever you’d like.”

Nico furrowed his brow, pausing for a moment as he seemed to think over his options, and said, “The Apollo.”

“Sounds great.”

“You’re kidding.”

“What? Was that some kind of a trick? I’m not familiar with the restaurants nearby, so if that’s a shitty place, then we should go somewhere else.”

“No, it’s not--” Nico stopped himself, and took a breath before he spoke again. “It’s pretty expensive. I wasn’t actually expecting you to just go with it. Besides, I don’t think I own any clothes nice enough to get into that place.”

Will shrugged. “We could always have a sort of pre-date where I take you out to buy some clothes for our real date.”

“Why do you seem so desperate to go on a date with me?”

“I wouldn’t call it desperate,” Will replied. “I’m just...excited, I suppose. I finally got a date with the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen, I can’t just let that slide.”

Nico seemed...conflicted, but Will couldn’t figure out why. Shouldn’t he be excited to have someone so willing to treat him to a new wardrobe and an expensive dinner?

Nico started picking at his nails in discomfort. “There’s this diner down the street from here. It’s open twenty-four hours, and the food’s pretty decent. Let’s go there instead.”

Nico had the full intention of breaking things off with Will at the end of their date. Or maybe the beginning, depending on if he found a good opening. There was just something about how desperate Will had appeared during their last meeting that set Nico on edge, that maybe he shouldn’t go out with this near stranger, but it felt wrong to break things off on just a feeling. Especially when he could get a free meals out of this.

The only problem was that nothing had gone wrong. Will was sweet and funny and gave Nico a warm, fuzzy feeling rather than one of discomfort. Nico realized that he had actually enjoyed himself, and that he didn’t totally hate Will, and that he even might enjoy spending more time with him.

Will, the perfect gentleman that he had shown himself to be that night, walked Nico home, and pressed a kiss to Nico’s cheek as he said goodnight. As Nico locked himself into his house, he caught himself thinking, I’m not getting attached. I’m not even attracted to him! I’m just using him for his money at the point, but I can’t keep doing that. I have to break this off before it goes any further.

But of course, just as Nico had finally convinced himself to break things off, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out to find a text from Will that said, I had a great time tonight! I’d love to do it again sometime soon :)

Great. Now what was Nico supposed to do?

They went out a few more times, though Nico could never find even the smallest of reasons to break things off. Will was just as sweet on their fifth date as he was on their first, and he was constantly bringing Nico gifts and picking up the check after dinner, as well as paying for anything else they did on their dates.

Really, Nico didn’t mind if Will payed for everything - if he had the money, then Nico wasn’t going to stop him. But something about it made Nico feel...weird. Sort of a bad weird. And a little bit curious, too.

They were in Nico’s house, on the couch with a movie playing on the TV, though they’d stopped paying attention to it about ten minutes ago. Nico was trying to focus on the feeling of Will’s hands on his body and the connection of their lips, though his mind kept wandering. When Will finally broke the kiss to allow Nico to breathe - though he moved down to kiss Nico’s neck rather than letting himself get any air - Nico asked, “What do you do?”

Will lifted himself up so that he could hold himself over Nico just slightly, grinning down at him as he said, “Well, I’m a top mostly, but I can switch if you prefer.”

Nico’s face erupted in flames - that was not what he meant - and Will chuckled before pressing his lips to Nico’s once more, then trailed his lips to Nico’s ear to whisper, “Gods, you’re adorable.”

“No, Will, I mean--” He gasped as Will bit down on his neck. “What do you do to make so much money?”

Will snorted. He set his forehead against Nico’s and allowed their lips to brush as he said, “What’s money to a god?” He pressed his lips to Nico’s fully, though just for a second as he was shoved away almost immediately.

Nico was frowning up at him. “Are you kidding me? A god? Do you really think that highly of yourself?”

Will’s smile faltered. “Nico--”

He shoved at him again. “No, get off of me! What am I to you, some kind of pet for you to spoil?”

“No, of course not!” Will insisted, moving back to the opposite end of the couch, raising his hands in surrender. “Nico, please! I don’t think I’m a god, I am a god! I’m the god of the sun!”

“You think you’re an actual god, are you serious?” Nico demanded. When Will didn’t deny it, Nico started kicking him until he stood from the couch. “Get out. Get out right now!”

“Nico, please, let me explain!” Will pleaded, though Nico had jumped to his feet and was shoving Will toward the door. “Just give me a second, I can prove it to you!”

“Get out!” Nico shouted. “Don’t come back. I never want to see you again!”

Will grabbed one of Nico’s hands and held it just tight enough that Nico couldn’t pull it back. If he looked up, Nico would have seen tears forming in Will’s eyes. “Nico, please,” Will whispered, “don’t do this.”

Nico finally yanked his hand back and spit, “Get. Out!”

In a blink, Will disappeared. The door never opened or closed. Will never walked away. One second he was there, and gone in the next.

Nico stepped back and finally let his tears fall.

Not even Mitchell could cheer Will up. Will hadn’t moved from the couch in days, and hadn’t even said what had upset him, but Mitchell knew. This was what always happened when a god chose to date a human. Mitchell just hoped that the same didn’t happen with him and Connor.

After at least one human week of Will laying completely still on the couch, Mitchell finally gave up.

“If you’re not even going to try anymore, then I can’t help you, Will,” he said. “I have to leave, anyway. I’ll come check on you again after my date.”

That seemed to get Will interested. “You have a date?” he croaked.

Mitchell grinned. “I do. Remember Connor? I took a page out of your book and asked him out. It’s been pretty great so far.”

“I’m happy for you,” Will said, though his tone of voice conveyed the opposite.

Mitchell patted Will’s head and said, “I’ll see you in a little while,” before he vanished.

Will sat up with a groan. Even as an immortal, his body still complained after laying in one position for too long. His eyes focused on the TV across the room - something Leo had whipped up so that the gods could watch “reality TV” as he called it. Will tried not to reach for the remote, but he couldn’t stop himself.

As he turned the TV on, Will was met with the sight of Nico at sunset, sitting on his deck that overlooked the ocean.

“I don’t know how this is supposed to work,” he heard Nico whisper. “If you’re really a god, then you should be able to hear me, right? I hope you can. And I really hope nobody else can, because this is probably going to be embarrassing for me.” He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “My neighbors are going to think I’m insane for talking to myself like this.”

Will sat up, leaning forward in anticipation, and even turning the volume up so that he didn’t miss a single word.

“I’m sorry,” Nico breathed, dropping his hands to his lap though his gaze stayed down as well. “I guess you could say that I have trust issues, and every rich guy that’s ever asked me out has turned out to be an asshole, but… I think you were the exception. I didn’t want to like you, because I thought you’d be just like the others, but you weren’t. You made me like you because you-- Because you’re you. I don’t even know how this whole thing works if you’re a god and I’m just a human - and this probably seems so childish to you, since you’ve probably fallen in love a million times and forgotten about all of them just a quick, and I don’t know if I could handle that - but… I want to try. Because I do really like you, even despite my best efforts.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you and for yelling at you, and for everything, really. I want to try to talk it out with you, if you feel the same, but I don’t know how to get a hold of you, so… If you can hear me, then can you give me some sort of sign? Or show up right here in front of me, orsomething, just so I know you’re there. Please, Will. I miss you.”

Will was frozen to his seat, and he couldn’t figure out how to make his arms work. He had to give Nico a sign! He needed to do something, so why couldn’t he move? All he could do was watch as Nico watched the sun set behind the ocean.

Once the darkness had covered him, Nico dropped his head and scrubbed his hands over his face to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Nico climbed to his feet and turned to walk back into his house.

“I guess I’ll take that as a no.”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee

#mine #my writing #solangelo #solangeloweek2019 #will solace #nico di angelo

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queenofcats17 · 5 years

Text

Two Doofs In Love

@randomwriteronline answered an ask of mine and now I have to write it.

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Joey Drew had been in love with his brother-in-law for a long time now. He’d kept it on the down-low, though, partially because Sonja was such a raging bitch. He’d been terrified of what would happen if she found out about his crush on her ex-husband. Even when she was gone, though, he refused to act on his feelings.

There was no way Malcolm would actually accept his feelings, he thought. Malcolm was a good man. A genuinely good and kind and wonderful man who made the world a brighter place simply by existing. He had his shit together. He was a functioning human being. There was no way he’d be interested in Joey romantically.

Joey knew he wasn’t exactly a prize. He was fake and awful. He wasn’t a good person. Not like Malcolm was. They could be friends, yes, and ex-brother-in-laws, but not romantic partners. So, he resigned himself to just pine after Malcolm from afar.

But Malcolm did love him. He did return his feelings. And Henry was forced to watch these two idiots dance around each other. Pretty much everyone could see Malcolm and Joey were head over heels for each other, but Henry was about the only one with a direct connection to both of them who had to listen to them gush about each other.

Even now, he was listening to Joey dither about whether or not to propose to Malcolm.

“I just don’t know,” Joey said, drumming his fingers on the table. “What if he says no?”

“He’s not going to say no,” Henry said.

“Out of everyone, he couldn't possibly choose me.”

“Joey, he’s not going to say no.”

“I mean, he’s smart and handsome and has his shit together. He couldn’t possibly be interested in someone as fake and terrible as me.”

“He won’t say no.” Henry was face down on the table. Joey wasn’t even listening to him. He probably could have said Malcolm wanted to throw him against the table and do him right there and Joey wouldn’t even acknowledge he’d heard him.

“Hey, Joey?” The door to the kitchen opened and Malcolm stuck his head in. “Can I talk to you?”

“Oh, sure.” Joey gave him a nervous smile.

Henry lifted his head to see the expression on Malcolm’s face. He was praying that at least Malcolm had finally managed to get up the courage to act on his feelings. To his absolute delight, he could see determination and a bit of nervousness painted on the other man’s features. He knew what was about to go down.

“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” He quickly got up and left the room, giving Malcolm a wink as he did so. Malcolm remained calm as Henry did this, keeping his gaze on Joey.

“So, uh, what did you want to talk about?” Joey asked, leaning awkwardly on the table.

“Joey.” Malcolm crossed the kitchen, getting down on one knee in front of him. “I want you to marry me.”

Joey froze, staring at him. For a moment or two, he just watched Malcolm, eyes wide. Then he began to cry. Not sad tears, but tears of joy. He had an adorable lopsided smile. Well, Malcolm thought it was adorable.

“Ah...Ahah...” He laughed weakly. “You...You got me good. Henry told you, didn’t he? Ahaha...This is...Very funny....” He was dangerously close to starting to cry out of sadness. Because this couldn’t possibly be real. It had to be a joke. Malcolm wouldn’t actually love him.

Malcolm smiled softly, taking Joey’s hands in his. He didn’t say anything, just holding Joey’s hands and smiling at him. Slowly...Slowly it dawned on Joey that this wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t a joke and Malcolm absolutely meant every word.

“Really?” He whispered.

“Really,” Malcolm said.

He’d made sure to ask Charlie’s permission before doing this, just to make sure it was alright. It was, after all, a little weird to suddenly have your uncle become your dad. Charlie had, thankfully, been delighted by this idea.

“Yes!” Joey wrapped his arms around Malcolm’s neck. Malcolm grinned, hugging Joey back.

From the living room, Henry smiled to himself. It was about time.

Joey went out and told everyone he could the very next day. After he’d asked Henry to be his best man, of course. He wanted his best friend to be at his side for this, something Henry was more than happy to do.

Kim and Niamh were first, mostly because Malcolm had mentioned Niamh might be able to officiate and Joey wanted to ask if she could.

Kim, sufficiently surprised by this announcement, blurted out, “Condolences.” He then slapped a hand over his mouth, his face going as red as it could from embarrassment.

“Did you mean congratulations?” Malcolm asked, trying to stifle a snicker. Joey just stared at them blankly, his head tilted adorably to the side. Malcolm wrapped an arm around his waist, briefly distracted by how cute Joey was.

“No no, he meant what he said,” Niamh said, nodding solemnly as she put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder.

“Niamh, no.”

“Condolences, Malcolm.”

“Niamh, stop that.” Kim groaned.

“Um...Anyway, I was hoping you could officiate the wedding, Niamh,” Joey said, managing to shake himself from his confusion. “Malcolm said you could do that?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Niamh nodded, already beginning to grin. She’d heard from Thaische how much Charlie adored his duncle. Giving that boy a Whole New Loving Dad would be more than worth it. Plus, it would probably make Joey less sad and mopey.

“Is Charlie alright with it?” Kim asked. “It must be kind of a weird situation.”

“I made sure to ask him first,” Malcolm assured him. “He’s very excited.” Joey smiled to himself, feeling warm inside at the knowledge that Charlie was excited to have him as his new dad.

“Hell yeah!” Niamh pumped her fist in the air. “I’ll do it!”

“Thank you,” Malcolm chuckled. “I appreciate your excitement.”

“Well, congratulations,” Kim said with a gentle smile. “For real this time. We’re really happy for you two.” Especially Joey, he thought as he glanced at his boss. Everyone at the studio worried about Joey.

“Thank you.” Joey murmured, leaning on Malcolm. His cheeks were turning a bit pink. He still couldn’t believe this was happening.

“We’ll talk to you later about the details,” Malcolm said. “But right now we need to tell everyone else.”

“Alright. Best of luck!” Kim waved as they exited. Niamh was already planning her speech.

When the Music Department heard the news, they all clambered to volunteer their musical services for the wedding. Both Malcolm and Joey told them they really didn’t have to but the musicians had all made up their mind that they were going to do this. However, they needed direction, which meant they turned to Sammy. Who did not want to do it.

“Aw, c’mon, Sammy. Please?” They begged.

“I have work I need to do,” Sammy said, gesturing to the stacks of paper on his desk. “Actual work. That doesn’t involve weddings.”

The musicians of his department visibly deflated, all incredibly disappointed by his refusal. Yeah, they probably could do this without him, but they wanted him involved. They were all about to disperse, but Wally put a hand up.

“Don’t worry guys, I got this,” he said. He walked up to Sammy, turning on the cuteness and giving him the biggest most adorable puppy eyes he was capable of. Sammy tried to resist. He really did. But Wally’s puppy eyes were just too strong. He was too cute.

Sammy let out a long-suffering sigh, hanging his head. “Alright. Fine.”

The department cheered and Wally threw himself onto Sammy in a big hug. Sammy blushed, muttering something about how this was going to be a big pain. He seemed perfectly happy to be hugged by Wally, though.

The months leading up to the wedding were rather hectic. There was a lot of planning to be done, which Henry was more than happy to help with. As the best man, it was his job to help in any way he could. He wanted to make this day the best he could for Malcolm and Joey. They deserved to be happy.

Sammy made a big deal about not wanting to do this whole music thing, but he’d dedicated himself to it so he was going to do the best damn job he could. Sammy Lawrence did not do anything halfway. Some of the Music Department regretted asking his help because of his perfectionism. Still, they knew he was going to do a good job.

When the day came, everyone was rather excited. Charlie especially was practically bouncing out of his chair. Seeing his delight made everyone involved even more dedicated to make this wedding the best they possibly could. No one was allowed to make that child cry.

Everyone was running around, trying to get everything set up. The Music Department had brought their own instruments, rentals in some cases because they didn’t want to damage their personal ones, which were a nightmare to transport in some cases. Especially when it came to the larger instruments like the cellos and tubas.

Malcolm and Joey were getting ready in the back, both helped by Henry. Malcolm, being the goth he was, had gone for an all-black tux. He looked very stylish, especially to Joey. Joey looked like he came out of one of the Bendy cartoons, at least in his color scheme. Well, he always looked like that, but he looked particularly nice in his fancy tux.

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony?” Henry asked as he fussed with Joey’s bowtie.

“I don’t really think that applies when we’re both the groom,” Malcolm said. “Besides, I’d hate to deprive Joey of a sneak peek of his future husband.” He winked at Joey, who started to giggle.

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining.” Joey winked right back. “Any chance to see you in a suit.”

“You two are such dorks.” Henry rolled his eyes.

Outside, most of the guests had been seated and Niamh was testing the microphone, clothed in a long aggressively magenta dress.

“Can I get a wahoo!” She yelled. There was a loud wahoo from somewhere in the treeline, presumably from Eska.

Eska had been strangely absent from the area. That wahoo had been the only sign he was around. No one had so much as seen his face since arriving. Joey was rather glad of this, due to how terrifying he found the factotum, but it was still strange. Eska was usually never far from Thaische’s side.

Speaking of Thaische, he was sitting beside Charlie in the front row. Both children were dressed in their best. Charlie was wearing a nifty little suit, while Thaische wore a dress. The dress didn’t necessarily fit with the theme, but no one minded. He was wearing his poncho too anyway.

“This all looks real nice,” Wally said, leaning back in his chair. He’d chosen to sit beside the band in order to be close to Sammy.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Sammy conceded, allowing himself a small smile.

“Give you any ideas?” Wally wiggled his eyebrows at his boyfriend.

Sammy gave him a deadpan stare. “Do you want me to ask you to marry me?”

“I mean, I dunno. Maybe?” Wally shrugged slightly, fiddling with his tie. “Do you wanna get married?”

“We can talk about it after this.” Sammy turned back to his sheet music. He knew that if he was ever going to propose, it would 100% be after Wally did something monumentally stupid. He was fully prepared to see Wally do something dumb at the reception and just propose to him right there.

Eventually, the grooms and Henry appeared, and they got everything started. Norman had set up shop in the back, having volunteered to tape the whole thing for the happy couple.

“If anyone here has any objections,” Niamh began, before putting her mouth right on the microphone. “SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” Everyone winced at the shrieking feedback and the boom of her voice from the speakers. Niamh was a very loud person naturally, and when her voice was amplified by a microphone it was near deafening.

“THAT BOY IS GETTING A WHOLE NEW LOVING DAD,” she pointed to the vibrating Charlie in the front row. “AND I WILL FUCKING MURDER ANYONE WHO TRIES TO TAKE THAT AWAY FROM HIM!”

No one objected. No one wanted to object, but also no one wanted to have their back broken by Niamh. Because she would do that. They all knew she would do that.

“Alright, good!” Niamh nodded. “Let’s do this!”

The wedding went off without a hitch. Malcolm and Joey exchanged some very heartfelt vows and Niamh pronounced them husband and husband. They didn’t need much prompting to kiss. The collected guests erupted into applause. Charlie was bouncing up and down in his wheelchair and Thaische was doing happy flaps with his arms because Charlie was so excited.

Once the couple had stopped kissing, and it did take a while, everyone moved to the reception area for food.

That was when Eska appeared.

He showed up when Malcolm and Joey were getting congratulated by the guests, appearing out of the crowd in his usual overalls and shirt. Joey immediately tensed. This wasn’t going to end well. He just knew it. But Eska didn’t yell or do any of the things he usually did. Instead, he picked Joey and Malcolm up in a big bear hug.

“Oh, thank you, Eska,” Malcolm said once Eska had put them down.

“Ah, um, yes. Thank you, Eska.” Joey echoed.

“Congrats,” Eska mumbled before vanishing once more.

Joey stood there for a moment or two, stunned by the fact that Eska had actually done something nice to him.

“Hey.” Malcolm nudged him gently with his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Joey glanced over at him, suddenly aware of the fact that their hands were entwined. He could feel the gold band now resting on his finger.

“I’m fine,” he said, smiling his adorably gap-toothed smile. Malcolm smiled back.

“I love you.” He leaned in and kissed Joey’s cheek.

“I love you too,” Joey whispered.

“Dads!!” Charlie rolled up, tugging at their hands. “Come dance with me!” His smile made Joey feel warm inside all over again. And being called ‘Dad’.

“Alright, alright.” Malcolm laughed.

Together, they made their way out onto the dance floor, completely oblivious to everything going on around them. They were a family, well and truly now.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #malcolm mcnamara #joey drew #duncle joey #niamh o'flannel #charlie mcnamara #kim grosso #henry stein #thaische #eska (batim)#sammy lawrence #wally franks

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youcancallmecirce · 5 years

Text

An Elemental Update!

Chapter 12: Attacked

Last time, on Elemental: Marinette is an air mage, Adrien is a Mer water mage. They found one another out, had a sleep over, and had a nice hookup under da sea. Meanwhile, Marinette's mentor shares too much about Marinette, everyone encourages her to report the woman, and she does. Which is a good thing, because the mentor is actually bat shit crazy and evil AF.

Now, on Elemental: Marinette feels wretched about reporting her mentor, and Alya and Co. make a point to cheer her up. Their plans are interrupted. (Click here to read on AO3.)

Marinette sat listlessly at her desk and fiddled with her yoyo. She was out of practice, but she could still do the basic looping and sleeping with her eyes closed. The repetitive motion was calming, if not soothing, and she lost herself to it. Unfortunately, mindless as it was, it did not do much to divert her thoughts.

She’d walked out of the admin building that morning feeling like the worst sort of scum, and the intervening hours had done nothing to dispel that feeling. She couldn’t help replaying the morning’s scene in her mind. The Dean of Arcane Studies had listened intently to their complaint, and then had asked them each to submit a signed statement regarding the incident. Marinette had thought they’d be done after that, but no. The Dean had asked them to stay until after he’d spoken with Mme. Piers, so that she could render an apology to her in person.

Marinette wished now that they’d declined. She was the victim in this scenario; he could not have forced her to stay. But at the time, in the moment, she hadn’t realized that she had a choice, and the Dean had taken advantage of that. No matter what he said, her grievance was not his first concern. No, the reputation of his department was on the line, and he had wanted to do everything he could to cover his ass.

And so Marinette had been there to see Mme Piers arrive. She’d greeted them warmly, without a clue as to why she’d been summoned. Then Marinette had waited, tense and miserable, for a full thirty minutes as her mentor was berated for doing something that was, at its heart, perfectly innocent.

“Alright, that’s it,” Alya announced as she marched into the room. “No more moping.” Marinette jumped at the sound of Alya’s voice, fumbling her yoyo and smacking herself in the face. She frowned at her roomate, rubbing the bridge of her nose, and Alya winced in sympathy. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Marinette shrugged away the apology and began coiling her yoyo. “What do you mean? I’m not moping.”

“You are.” Marinette tried to object, but Alya just kept on as if she hadn’t heard. “I convened the tribunal--”

“Tribunal?”

“--and we have decided that it’s time for an intervention.”

“I’m not moping!”

Alya gave her a hard look. “You haven’t even gone to the beach with Adrien, little miss Mopey McMoperson. Not since you reported Piers.”

“Okay, maybe I am moping, but it was just this morning, Alya! And she comforted me, as if I weren’t the one who got her in trouble!”

“As she should have,” Alya said with a sniff, completely ignoring the first half of Marinette’s objection. “She got herself into trouble when she broke the rules. I will not allow you to blame yourself for her choices.” Then she turned to Marinette’s wardrobe and began rummaging through it.

“Um, can I help you?”

“Yes. You can sit quietly while I pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.” Alya pulled a summery swing dress from the wardrobe and eyed it critically. “Yup, this will do.” She tossed it to the bed and went back to rummaging.

Marinette eyed the dress. “Are we dressing me, or dressing you?”

“You, obviously. That dress is sweet, but it is too tame and too pink for me. Ah, here it is!” She pulled Marinette’s favorite pastel kimono and tossed it on top of the dress. “Now, where is that pink bikini?”

“Bikini?” Marinette echoed as Alya trailed off, gnawing her bottom lip as she thought. “Where the heck am I going?”

Alya’s expression cleared and she snapped her fingers in remembrance. “Oh yeah, I saw it earlier,” she muttered, dashing out of the room. Marinette stared after her bemusedly, and she returned a moment later with Marinette’s pink bikini.

“ We are going out to dinner for a double date with the boys,” she replied, tossing the bathing suit on top of the other items. After dinner you and Adrien go get naked at the beach while Nino and I take advantage of the empty apartment and get naked here.”

“Alya!”

“Also, I did laundry this morning. You’re welcome.”

Marinette slumped sulkily back in her chair, liking the idea very much but not wanting to admit that Alya was right. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“It’s cute that you thought you had a choice.”

“But the apartment won’t be empty,” Marinette shot back with a smirk. “Master Fu is here for a visit.”

“Damn.” Alya paused, then shrugged. “Oh well. We’ll just go to his place instead.” She gripped Marinette’s head between her hands, planted a kiss on her forehead, and sauntered out. “Oh, and I call first shower,” she called back over her shoulder. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’re having a good time. Admit it.”

Marinette’s smile faded and she began to slowly spin her beer bottle in the pool of its own condensation, creating an ever-widening circle of water on the table. “You know that I am.”

“Well, she was, until you reminded her that she was upset,” Adrien said, and Alya stiffened.

“Hey!”

Nino drained the last of his beer in one long pull and then clunked his mug down onto the table, audibly smacking his lips in satisfaction. “Yeah, I thought we were trying to distract her.”

Alya deflated, and turned back to look at Marinette across the table. “I’m sorry, M. I’m just happy to see a smile on your face, and excited that I helped put it there.”

“It’s fine.” Marinette offered a small but sincere smile and squeezed Alya’s hand. “I am having a good time, and I’m glad you guys kept me from sulking all night.”

“Thanks, M.” Alya squeezed her hand back, and sat back take in everyone at the table. “So, dessert?”

Adrien grabbed the dessert menu from the end of the table and flipped it open. Then he tilted for everyone to see. “What’s good?”

“The pain au chocolat here is only so-so, but the créme brûlèe is to die for.”

“You only like your parents’ pain au chocolat , M.”

“Can you blame her? Nino asked. “Ooh, what about the créme caramel ?”

Marinette shrugged. “I’ve only have the pain au chocolat and the créme brûlèe, and I liked that too much to have tried anything else.”

“Lame,” Nino said without heat.

In the end, it was decided that Adrien and Marinette would share the one , while Alya and Nino tried the other. Adrien picked up the whole check, overriding his friends’ objections, and they left the cafe happy and full and just a little bit buzzed.

As she ambled along in the general direction of their apartment, hand in hand with Adrien while their two friends did the same a few paces ahead of them, Marinette thought back to Alya’s assessment about how the evening would progress and found herself blushing. Though she and Adrien had slept together in the same bed again last night, they not been intimate. It was something she wanted, but things were still new enough between them that she wasn’t sure just how to proceed. He’d said that his people are straight forward about sex, but knowing that didn’t make her any less shy. And what if he always wanted to do it in the water? That was fun and all, but--

Marinette’s thought process went abruptly blank as they rounded a corner and came came to a halt right next to Nino and Alya, who both seemed to be as frozen as she. A few others stood on the sidewalk or in the street, all of them staring at the same thing they were.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” said Nino inanely.

Marinette couldn’t help but agree.

A red-haired man in a t-shirt and blazer hovered in the air just a few meters away from them, his face eerily blank and his eyes glowing a violent, violet purple. He looked familiar to Marinette, but she couldn’t place him until she heard Adrien mutter the man’s name.

Nathaniel . He was a graduate student in the Arcane college, writing a thesis on channeling magic of any element through art. It was an idea which had thoroughly intrigued Marinette. He’d been another of Mme. Piers’ students, though because his course of study was far more independent, she’d rarely interacted with him. She was looking forward to reading his work, when it was published.

Marinette noted movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned far enough to see that Alya had raised her phone to record what was happening in front of them. Despite her fear (whatever was going on, it was not good), she rolled her eyes at Alya. She was as consummate journalist--even when maybe she shouldn’t be.

On her other side, Adrien squeezed her hand gently, drawing her attention, and released her. She grabbed for him, but he’d already stepped forward. “Nathaniel?” he said again, this time addressing the unnaturally still man floating in front of them. “It’s Adrien. What happened? Are you okay?”

Nathaniel’s body turned slightly, so that his empty gaze seemed to be now fixed on Adrien. “I’m sorry,” said a saccharine female voice, and Marinette felt gooseflesh run up her arms. Nathaniel’s mouth had moved, but that was definitely not Nathaniel’s voice. “Nathaniel cannot come to the phone right now. May I take a message?”

Yup, definitely not good. Marinette had an idea of what had happened to him--he’d been possessed, obviously--but she wasn’t certain of the what or how. And why was he here ? Had he been waiting for them? It seemed too great a coincidence to believe that he had not. She twitched her fingers into the sign for “air”, the signal she and Tikki had long ago agreed on as the signal for help, and Marinette felt a reassuring eddy of air lift the hair from her sweating neck. Marinette relaxed just a bit, knowing that her oldest friend and greatest ally was there with her.

“Why have you done this? Why are you here?” Adrien asked, his tone hard. She saw his hand move as well, anxiously spinning his black ring. Clearly, he was thinking along the same line that she was, and she was just as glad to have Pagg nearby as she was to feel Tikki.

“Oh, I just thought it might be nice to go for an evening stroll,” the voice answered, still using Nathaniel’s mouth. “After all, you never know who you’ll run into.”

Fuck. He--she?--had definitely been waiting for them. Marinette edged closer to Alya. “ You need to go, and get as many people away from here as you can, ” she pushed at Alya, hoping that her friend would be receptive to the mental communication.

Alya nearly dropped her phone in surprise, and stared at Marinette with round eyes.

“ This is bad, Alya. You need to get everyone away. ”

Alya nodded slowly, her eyes still wide, and she tucked her phone away in her purse. “What about you? And Adrien?” she asked, as quietly as possible.

“ We’re both strong mages, we’ll be okay. Please, just go. ”

She pressed her lips into a thin line at that, obviously not liking it, but recognizing the wisdom of getting people out of harm’s way. “Be careful,” she mouthed. At Marinette’s nod, she gripped Nino’s elbow and tugged him back.

Marinette stepped forward, even with Adrien, hoping to draw attention away from everyone else. “What do you want from us?”

Nathaniel’s body turned towards her, then, the violet eyes narrowed. “Everything.”

It was almost as if it had happened in slow motion. Strange details stood out to Adrien, branding themselves into his mind: the defiant tilt of Marinette’s chin, and the faint tremble that betrayed her fear; the grating menace of the once sweet voice as it answered; the glee on Nathaniel’s face as his hand lifted, his fist closing; and most especially, the stunned terror on Marinette’s face as a sparkling band of water coalesced and visibly tightened around Marinette’s throat.

Adrien’s vision narrowed to a single point as his fear gave way to fury. This--this thing was hurting Marinette, holding her off of the ground with a noose of air about her neck. “Release her,” he demanded tightly.

“Take her from me,” it taunted, laughing,

Adrien felt his ring pulse with energy. Something old and deep and primal beckoned to him. Plagg . “Fine,” he said, and stepped back into a defensive position and yielded to Plagg’s call. “ Tides. Rise.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing the violet eyes go wide as Plagg’s green and blue energy swirled triumphantly around him, filling him with all the raw power of the sea, binding it to him. It surged through him, filling him more completely than it had before, and he felt a wicked smile curve his lips. Plagg was just as furious, and more, felt a contempt for the being before them that was scathing in its depth.

All of this must have showed, because it faltered, loosening its grip on Marinette, and she gasped in a desperate breath before it regained its hold.

Plagg wanted to destroy ; Adrien held him in check. “Release her,” he demanded again, his voice echoing with barely leashed power.

“Take her,” the thing said again, still taunting.

And so he did. Adrien reached for the water around Marinette’s throat, his arm outstretched, and seized control of it with a sharp closing of his fist. His opponent could only gape at him as Marinette fell to the ground, clutching her throat and coughing. He smirked again.

He held the water before him, a tight, swirling sphere of water that hung suspended between his palms, and ready to launch against the possessed mage, but a grip on his ankle had him looking down. Marinette was on her knees at his feet, her skin pale except for the darkening bruise around her throat.

“Don’t hurt him,” she croaked. “It’s not him. Not his fault.”

He could feel Plagg balking at the request, but it was moot.

Their foe had feld.

#elemental #merdrien #maginette #miraculous ladybug #au #update #callmecirce writes

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sadlittlenerdking · 6 years

Text

holiday blues

OPERATION KICK DEPRESSION AND NANOWRIOS ASS 4 OF 50

Word count: 1087

Summary: It’s the holidays, and Eliot just wants to help Quentin get through this episode. Featuring Big Girls Don’t Cry by Fergie.

@cldfiredrgn prompted queliot - holiday blues

Eliot peeks out the cottage door, tilting his head at Quentin, who’s solemnly sitting in his chair, staring off into the distance. It’s a very Quentin thing to do. Pretend to be okay when Eliot’s near, but as soon as he thinks nobodies looking, he lets all the sadness and everything take hold, and capture him like--well, Eliot’s not sure like what.

All he knows is it’s Quentin’s first christmas without Rupert since, well, since Rupert's first christmas.

Eliot clears his throat and makes his way out, holding a cup of tea in each hand. Quentin jumps, forces a smile on his lips, and quickly wipes at his eyes like he doesn’t think Eliot will realize he’s been crying like the sad sap he is.

But then, Eliot doesn’t want Quentin to know that he’s also been patientally (impatiently) awaiting word from their son that he’d return for the holidays like he’s done every year before.

It’s not even an important holiday, not really. Neither of them really care about Christmas. They just like having an excuse to see their son again. Just like having a reason to be happy for no reason. To cast pointless spells, and to bring Rupert gifts. Quentin doesn’t think Eliot knows about the box at the bottom of their closet that’s for Rupert should he decide to return, but Eliot does all the cleaning.

And Quentins a bit of a dunce when it comes to keeping secrets.

Case in point: the sudden and unavoidable return of Quentin’s depression.

Not that it was ever gone. Q’s just always been good at distracting himself with Rupert, or with sex with Eliot (a distraction Eliot would mind finding again) or with the mosaic. But now he just sits in his chair and stares off into the distance, and writes letters to Rupert. And works on the mosaic. But they can’t really enjoy it together anymore -- not like they used to. Quentin takes his time with it. Slow and easy. Back to trying math.

All static, no feeling.

“Hey,” Quentin says, smiling with the corners of his mouth. He reaches for the tea.

Eliot quirks an eyebrow and holds it back from him, “Uh-uh,” He says, “No tea until you start talking.”

Quentin stares up at him for a moment, before sighing and sweeping an arm out around the meadow. “It’s a beautiful day out today, Eliot. Isn’t it?”

Eliot blinks down at him, unimpressed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

Quentin stares back, defiant, just as unimpressed. But he’s not got any fight in him, and he deflates like a bubble with a hole in it, and falls back into the seat. He closes his eyes like he’s trying to make sense of something before he can say it. And then, his eyes flutter open, and the tears brimming at the edges of them are so jarring that Eliot nearly takes a step back. “I miss him,” he says, quietly.

Eliot clenches and unclenches his jaw, before moving in and handing him the cup before taking the seat next to him. He takes a sip of the tea, swishes it around in his mouth, and then swallows before saying, “Yeah. Me too.”

“I thought he’d come.”

Eliot shrugs, taking another sip of the tea, motioning for Quentin to do the same. “He’s got to spend time with his new family, too, Q.”

It’s sensible, but Eliot doesn’t like it anymore than Quentin does. He just needs to be the strong one until Quentin’s able to pull himself out of this episode.

“That’s stupid.”

“And you’re being petulant.”

Quentin pouts. It’d be cute if his eyes weren’t still glassy with tears he’s too stubborn to cry when Eliot’s around. “I’m allowed to be petulant. My son hasn’t even returned my letters.”

Eliot blinks. And then he pushes up from the chair, and cracks his neck. “All right,” he says, setting the tea down in his seat, and turned to Quentin. “That’s enough of that. I’m so bored, Q.”

“What?”

“I’m bored of you being sad and not talking to me. I’m bored of you being afraid to cry in front of me. So, fuck it,” He raises an eyebrow, a smirk working it’s way across his face, “I’m going to take a card from Margo’s book.” He almost feels bad at the way Quentin flinches at the mention of Margo’s name, but Quentin’s too sad, and Eliot’s let him be sad too long. Let him hide from him for too damn long.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Eliot says, leaning down to take the cup from Quentin’s hands. He tries to hold onto it, despite having not taken even a single sip from it, but Eliot tugs a little harder than necessary, until he’s free to set it down next to his own abandoned cup. “Get up.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I can make you.”

“You won’t.”

It’s almost like, even after all this time, Quentin’s forgotten that Eliot so, so would.

And that he’s going to enjoy it.

He seems to realize it as soon as Eliot starts casting, and a long, pathetic whine works its way out of his throat, “Not a song spell, El -- please--”

But it’s too late, because Big Girls Don’t Cry’s already started playing, and Eliot’s not about to let it stop now.

Especially as Quentin, with no control of his own, starts flitting across the meadow doing a sad, mopey dance as he sings the Fergie classic.

It’s worth it, though, as reluctant smile starts to work it’s way around the words on the sun, until the dance turns more animated, and Quentin pulls Eliot in to dance with him.

They’re not fixed, not by a longshot. But, if he can distract Quentin when he needs it, does it really matter?

The answers no, because just as the music stops playing, they hear a familiar voice, call from the distance, “Dads!”

And a real, 100 watt smile spreads across Quentin’s lips, and he’s running across the meadow to pull his son into a hug. Eliot grins, breathless, from beside the mosaic. A girl appears at the the edges of the meadows, standing awkwardly beside Rupert as Quentin hugs him. But then he’s pulling away, and Rupert’s introducing her,a nd Quentin’s waving Eliot over.

It may just be a distraction, but it’ll get him through. It’ll do.

Until he can find a better way to help Quentin without the modern worlds meds.

#the magicians #queliot #4 of 50 #operation kick nano and depressions ass

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thedistantstorm · 6 years

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The Enemy of My Enemy

[[Here I am with more of my daily SteelPoncho bullshit. For your leisure, a first meeting between one Commander Zavala and one Suraya Hawthorne. It doesn’t go very well.]]

Before he ever meets Suraya Hawthorne, he has the Guardian’s Ghost pull her record from the City’s archives. It is disturbing. Larceny. Assault. Battery. Threatening a militia officer. Disorderly conduct. Vandalism. Weapons violations. Impersonating a militia officer. Destruction of public property. Arson.

“How can the denizens of the Last City rally behind a malefactor such as this... Hawthorne person?”

“Send three patrol teams to the walls. Wait for the Cabal to finish their sweeps, then go in and collect the caches from the Underground. They should all be tagged. Prioritize the food and medical equipment, the guns can wait.”

“If the Almighty is going to wipe out our sun, Commander, does it really matter who they rally behind?” Sloane’s fists are clenched though. She does not understand it either.

“But with the arrival of the Commander’s fleet, we have more fighters-”

“Guns won’t feed the survivors. We won’t need weapons if everyone starves before the fighting starts. Rations and medical equipment are our priority.”

“How many refugees does this ‘Farm’ have?”

“When we left, maybe several hundred thousand? Hundreds more were arriving by the day.”

“I’ll alert the clans, see if any of the other Guardians would be amenable to help.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Um, Ma’am?”

Hawthorne does not turn around. “I know he’s there, Ramos. Thank you.”

“As it is, they could use your leadership, Sir. I will do what I can from here.”

“Prepare the fleet. I will take whatever combat ready vessels we have head to this ‘Farm.’ The citizens will need someone more savory to look to than some runaway miscreant.”

They are alone when she speaks, still with her back to him. Her voice is low and clear as she repeats to him, verbatim, his final announcement to the people of the Last City. “The Cabal have affixed a device to the Traveler and severed our connection to the Light. We cannot hold the City, and we cannot protect you.” A breath. “We are setting a rally point elsewhere in the system - watch for a broadcast. We will return to the City someday, but… I do not know when.” She scoffs. “Be safe. Be brave.”

Zavala does not move a muscle, though hearing the words repeated back at him makes him tingle. Hawthorne continues to look at the map tacked to the wall of the barn and wonders how he thinks the situation looks on his side of the chessboard. Somewhere further behind them, Shaxx can be heard yelling at Guardians to suck it up and fight.

“Hawthorne believes you abandoned her and the survivors.”

“Oh?”

“We’ll go to Nessus, try and locate Cayde and Ikora, but… I don’t think she’ll be very accepting of you, especially not at first.”

“Yes, and what does this criminal know of war? Where was she during the Great Disaster or while you and your brethren were slaying Gods and preventing SIVA from spreading and threatening our very existence? I do not care if she is accepting. She will accept or she will stand aside.”

“Are you going to stand there and glare at me all day, or do you have something to say, Commander?” His title is all but a sneer.

“You are the one leading this operation.” It is not a question. “You will acquiesce to myself and the other Guardians the necessary-”

“Last I checked, you and me? We’re the same. Unless you also got your powers back like that friend of yours.” She still stands, evaluating the map. Fingers brush against points, and plot imaginary lines. “I will acquiesce nothing.”

That caused him to bristle. “These people need hope! Continue to feed them, and provide what you will, but I will oversee tactical-”

She moves too swiftly for him to see, for he blinks and the barrel of a sniper rifle is all but touching his forehead. It is not the ideal weapon for a short range kill, but it is a weapon all the same.

“They need hope, you say? It's about time you Guardians got with the program. While you were off planning your resistance - how’d that work for you, by the way - my people and I have been bringing back the survivors you left for dead.”

“The Guardians were being hunted in the streets for sport!” He does not look away from her, or her weapon pointed at him, blue eyes sparking with fury.

“So were the children! So was EVERY SINGLE ONE of us.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You want hope? Go take a walk around out there. Look at them working together. Humans and Guardians. Together. You need hope? That is hope. We are the last hope. We are the only hope.” She lowers her weapon, sets it off to the side. He thinks he could reach it if he needed to. “You want to win this war, you need the rest of humanity’s help to do it. Without your Light, you are just as much a Guardian as the rest of us.”

“Not at all, then.” His voice is low, eyes narrowed on her.

She rolls her eyes. “Like I’ve been telling the rest of your mopey-ass people: anybody who can pick up a gun and shoot is a Guardian. If you’re going to have a pity party, stay the fuck out of our way. We have work to do.”

“The Cabal have a weapon pointed at our Sun. They will kill us all.”

“Not if we kill them, first.”

He steps into her personal space. “You naive fool. Do you really think it to be that easy?”

She stares down her nose at him, their eyes even like their height. “No. I don’t. But I know that if we talk about it like they’ve already won we’re never going to. Buck up, Commander. We’ve intercepted their transmissions. We know about the Almighty. We’re going to find a way.”

The air leaves the Commander’s lungs like a deflating balloon. His body looks more tired than hostile. “And just what do you know about planning a counter offensive?”

She shrugs. “Enough to know that we have enough people here to take back the City, when the time comes. The time is going to come.” She turns to regard her map once more, giving him her back. “There are fourteen thousand some-odd clans out there, across the Farm and the City. All of which are made of civilians and Guardians willing to work together - to fight together to protect everyone and take back what we’ve lost. That’s what I’ve been working on, along with intercepting enemy transmissions, keeping the Fallen off our backs, and making sure the coming Winter doesn’t cut our numbers in half. Is that enough for you? I don’t have centuries of battle to call upon to help me out like you do, oh wise one, but I figure keeping our people alive is our best chance at surviving this war.”

The Vanguard Commander steps forward and looks at her map. “You believe we that can win this war? Put down this Ghaul and his Almighty?”

Hawthorne nods. “Eventually, yes. But I think we have a lot of work to do to get there.”

“My Fireteam - the other Vanguards will be arriving eventually.”

“Then it looks like you’re stuck with me in the meantime. Lucky you.” She hands him a stack of paper. It’s all hand-written. “These are the most important scout reports we’ve compiled since Tower-fall. Figure you’ll want to know what’s happening in our little slice of paradise. I’ll assemble my people to give you a briefing… so long as you promise not to attempt a hostile takeover.”

Hawthorne reaches down, slings her gun over her shoulder and turns back to him. He’s flipping through the reports rapidly, trying to read at a speed far too fast for actual absorption. “Bring those with you.” She instructs. "Let me give you the tour and find you a place to stay.”

“That will not be-”

“You want to give them hope, right? We don’t have to like each other - I still think you’re a jerk for abandoning us, and I’m sure you have something far more poetic you could call me. But we need to be seen together so they know we have a common goal, and are willing to set our differences aside for their best interest.” She straightens her back, cracks her neck with two quick jerky movements and audible pops. “I’ll try to move past my preconceived notions if you will, though I feel like I’m doing all the talking and you’re just standing there being all silently judgey. And I hate that.”

“I know very little about you.” It’s a lie. He wonders if she knows it, too. He memorized her file, unwilling to bring it with him across the galaxy.

Umber eyes regard him coolly. She’s wary, and has every reason to be. Her danger sense has kept her - and the survivors - alive this long, after all. “Pay attention. You just might learn something.”

#steelponcho #zavala x hawthorne #enemies to friends to lovers #tell me that isn't how this goes #commander zavala #suraya hawthorne #destiny fanfiction #my writing #eome destiny fanfic

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