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marlynnofmany · 10 months

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A Worthy Sacrifice

Going on a food run for this spaceship usually didn’t end up in a debate over whose body parts are more expendable. Never, as a matter of fact. Today was the first. And it could have easily been our last.

The trip had such a peaceful start, too. Along with the usual supplies that we paid real money for, Captain Sunlight sent a handful of us to pick up a local delicacy: some plant. I honestly missed the name. I was more interested in the location — inside a vast cave complex with shafts of light filtering in from above, and multiple lakes of poison to make the perfect growing environment. Or maybe they were acid lakes. At any rate, extremely dangerous, and completely at odds with the lovely sun-dappled scenery and brightly colored plantlife.

I stood with some trepidation at the edge of the cave maze, holding an empty bag and wondering if there was maybe an entrance somewhere big enough for a hoverbike. Beside me, the hulking forms of the Frillian twins were similarly hesitant. You can’t punch an acid lake, after all, or lift weights at it.

Down closer to ground level, Mur just looked annoyed. “It’s fine,” he said, flipping a blue-black tentacle forward. “The locals pick these plants daily.” His own bag was on a dinky little hoversled that followed him like a flying puppy, leash and all. The sled also held a couple pairs of pruning shears in case the stems gave us trouble. Mur could have ridden on the sled himself, pushing off the ground like a squid-shaped kid on a snow disk, but that would have been undignified. Strongarms are proud of that tentacle-walking, after all.

And apparently they’re not phased by giant lakes of acid.

“If you say so,” I told him. “Lead the way.”

He did, grumbling. I followed, taking care not to trip over the sled, while Blip and Blop stood tall and brought up the rear.

The entrance tunnel was small, alongside many others, and a few turned out to lead to the same big cavern. My first impression was warmth. I regretted wearing a sweater, thin and utilitarian though it was. I took it off as we walked, tying it around my waist, glad that I at least had my hair tied back in its usual long braid. I didn’t need any extra sweat about my neck today.

Once the sweater was secure, I was free to appreciate the scenery. It really was pretty. The walls were a wash of reds and golds, with multiple types of greenery sprouting from every level surface and a few that weren’t. The lake far below was an evil purple, fading to the innocent blue of tropical seas at the edges. A solid fence lined the cliff edge, which I appreciated.

The wall behind us was awash in climbing vines with dangling blueberry-looking things that sure would be convenient if they were the plants we were here for.

No such luck. Those were on the far side. Lots of them. A vast jungle of treelike things, most of which were bent under the weight of head-sized yellow fruit. As I watched, one particularly spindly trunk lost its biggest fruit to gravity, and sprung upwards to fling the smaller ones away in a comical fashion. I could almost hear the splats against the cave wall.

“Well, they sure look ripe,” I said.

Mur wasn’t interested. “Where’s the— Oh, there it is. We took the wrong door. C’mon.” He slapped away along the path beside that fence, over to where a single large hover platform waited like a ferry.

We were just getting on, with me trying to hide my misgivings and the Frillians doing the same, when a chorus of more slapping tentacle-steps approached at speed.

“Wait!” commanded the large reddish Strongarm in the lead, who was colored much like the cavern walls. She was also shaped more like an octopus than a squid, as was the green one behind her. The beige-gray one had a pointy squid head like Mur.

Mur waited. He’d already figured out the controls for the platform, and he stood there in silence while I clutched the railing with the Frillians, and the newcomers climbed on.

With nods all around, Mur pressed a button to close the gate. Then he removed the lid of the fancy pottery jar big enough for a child to hide inside — I’d assumed somebody had left it behind — and he scooped out a bunch of those blueberry things. As I watched in curiosity, he opened a different lid, this one over a part of the control console that stuck out, baring a dark tunnel like an ominous toilet bowl.

He threw the berries in. The platform’s engine started.

Mur steered us out over the deadly lake, engines humming happily, throwing clusters of berries in every so often. I exchanged looks with the Frillians. The other Strongarms didn’t look impressed.

“Are those fuel berries?” I asked.

“Only for this engine,” Mur said, tapping a sign. “It takes anything organic. Nice of the locals to make sure there’s always a full pot here. There is a note here to refill what we use if possible, and I think we definitely should, but I’m sure that not everyone does.”

The red Strongarm made a flapping noise that I recognized as the equivalent of a snort. Yeah, she probably wouldn’t stick around to do her part.

(And remember that bit about “anything organic”? If you recall how I started this little anecdote, this is where you’ll start to get concerned.)

There was only a moderate level of worry in the air at that point, though. We hadn’t fallen in yet and the rails seemed sturdy, if sparse, and the jungle was approaching at a reasonable pace. The slight breeze even made the temperature pleasant.

When Mur docked the platform headfirst and opened a gate on the other side, I was the first one off among the trees. Picking the yellow fruits turned out to be a great time, especially the way they kept accidentally flying through the air. They were about as heavy as cantaloupes, but with such rubbery outsides that it was like they were made for high-impact comedy. I did my best to pick each tree thoroughly, hanging onto the bent trunk with one hand before letting go. I’d started by taking a single fruit from each tree, but that had not worked.

Blip and Blop had the most efficient strategy: one held a bag and the other shook a tree like they were taking its lunch money. Mur just climbed the lowest trunks and plucked everything he found. One way or another, we filled our bags quickly and met back at the platform.

The strangers were a little slower, but again, we waited politely. Soon enough, we were on the way across the lake that lurked distantly below like malevolent grape jam.

I was just thinking that it had been a while since I’d had a proper PB&J when the trouble happened.

The Strongarms, standing on one side of the platform with their sacks of fruit, produced blasters and demanded ours.

(Yes, Strongarms keep things hidden among their tentacles. Yes, it’s just as gross as it sounds.)

Anyway, they must have taken our politeness and healthy fear of death for the signs of a bunch of pushovers, and wow they were wrong about that.

Blip and Blop swung their sacks of fruit in unison while I dove to one side and Mur took the other. You’d think we did this sort of thing all the time. In reality, there were only so many directions to go in a fenced-in battleground like this.

The would-be bandits were too busy dodging the sacks to aim their blasters properly, though they tried. One shot Blip’s bag of fruit, making her even more angry as yellow globes bounced everywhere. One nearly singed my ear, but didn’t get a second shot when I roundhouse kicked him in the squiddy head.

The other one, the leader, was wrestling Mur, and her shot went right through the center of the berry pot, shattering it and sending the platform’s fuel in every direction.

I mentioned that the railings weren’t exactly close together. And that these looked like blueberries: the little round things. My point is, they rolled. With great talent and speed. Right off the sides and down into that terrifying lake, leaving only a few behind.

“Look what you did!” Mur yelled, wrestling harder.

Blop made an undignified squeak of concern, then tried to find an angle he could help from. He ended up stepping firmly on a red tentacle and pinning the blaster to the floor.

His sister, meanwhile, was slamming an alien cantaloupe against the green guy, whose own weapon was stuck inside a different fruit, making its leisurely way down towards the lake.

The gray dude was out cold, which was a surprise to me. I guess Strongarms are easy to concuss, I thought as I made sure his blaster was safe on our side of the platform. I’d considered throwing it over the side as well, but figured we might want it to keep them in line once they woke up. I sure wasn’t planning on giving it back, though.

Crunch went the third blaster, Ow went the Strongarm holding it, and “Stay down, you arm-dragging limp grub!” went Mur. The red Strongarm stayed down.

So. We won the fight. But we only had a scattered few berries left to fuel the platform, and it had coasted to a stop in what looked to me like the exact stinkin’ center of this terrible, poisonous lake.

Blop looked worried. “Now what?” he asked Mur.

“These?” Blip suggested, holding a yellow fruit out toward the intake.

“No!” Mur shouted, startling everyone. He blocked her path. “Those break the engine. Didn’t you read the sign?”

I glanced at the defeated Strongarms. “I think only you read the sign,” I told him.

“Well, it’s very clear!” he exclaimed, waving dark tentacles like he wanted to tear out hair that he didn’t have. “Only other organics!”

Blip set the fruit down. “What do we have?” she asked, checking her pockets. “I’ve got two shrimp sticks and one of those seednuts that Paint likes.”

We all took stock, coming up with a whole lot of nothing. The unconscious Strongarms woke, and submitted to sitting in the corner with their leader, injured and embarrassed and also not in possession of any spare fuel.

“Let’s at least see how far the berries take us,” Mur said grimly, picking up the nearest.

We gathered all that we could find, and it took us a little way. Pocket snacks and whatnot took us a bit farther. We considered clothes (most were artificial), the fruit-carrying bags (same), and even treating the toilet-looking thing in appropriate but mortifying ways.

As we got increasingly desperate, we were still far from shore.

“Pretty sure this is real leather,” Mur said as he dropped in the leash for his tiny hoversled. “That will take us … not far enough.”

We were sort of close, kind of. Relatively speaking.

“The captain will come looking if we’re gone long enough,” Blop said.

“She doesn’t know which tunnel we took,” Mur reminded him. “Searching could take days.”

“Won’t the locals find us?” Blip asked.

The red Strongarm sneered. “They just finished a work cycle, and it’s a regular holiday. You think we’d try to rob you if they could come in at any moment?”

Both Frillians groaned.

Mur scowled. “Yes, very smart. See where that got you!” Moving slowly for added drama, he picked up a pair of shears from his sled. “Who wants to volunteer something organic?”

There were desperate pleas at that, and stonefaced silence from Mur that I hoped was acting.

“What about them?” the leader said, pointing wildly at the Frillians. “Surely they don’t need all those frills!”

Blip and Blop regarded her with identical shocked expressions. “Yes we do!”

“Well, we need our arms! You think that wouldn’t hurt to cut off?”

The yelling escalated while something very obvious occurred to me. I stepped over to Mur and flopped the braid over my shoulder. “Do you think this would be enough?”

The Strongarms shut up immediately. And they stayed silent while Mur calculated, so silent that I started to wonder.

They answered my question before I could ask it.

“You would volunteer that?” asked the red one quietly.

Ohhh, they think it’s a tentacle covered in hair, I realized. Have they not met a human before? Never mind; let’s see if Mur plays along.

“Yes,” I said solemnly, instead of going “Yeah” like I usually would. “If this is the only way to save all of us, then I will gladly make that sacrifice.” I looked over at Blip and Blop, who were elbowing each other but keeping mum. Good.

Mur ushered me toward the intake with all the grandeur of a high-society attendant. “If you would permit me to do the honors,” he said, “I will be quick.”

So I stood in front of the thing with my back to it so the wide-eyed bandits couldn’t see, told Mur to cut just below the hair tie, and held up my sweater ready to wrap it around my head like a bandage.

Yes, I did feel silly. But the bandits deserved a bit of shame and secondhand anguish. Besides, I’d been wanting to try a short haircut for ages, but never found the right time to chop it all off.

This is definitely the right time, I thought. “Go ahead.”

Mur snipped through the braid with one clean cut — hooray for sharp shears — and I collapsed with an anguished expression and some artful whimpers. Blip helped tie the sweater “bandage,” while Blop shielded us from view and stared down the Strongarms. I didn’t see Mur drop the braid into the intake, since my view was somewhat limited, but I felt the engine kick on with a most welcome hum.

I really hope that was enough, I thought as I lay there with my arms about my head. It’ll suck if we have to snip this down to a buzz cut. That’ll be hard to keep up the act through. And I really don’t want hair THAT short.

But when the engine finally went quiet, it was to a cheer from the Frillians. We were close enough to jump.

Or, more accurately, close enough for Blip to fling Mur across the gap with one of my socks to gather berries in. Mur was a terrible shot when he threw it back, but enough berries reached us that we were able to close the distance.

I pulled the blaster from my waistband and nudged it over the side before I forgot. It was too small for the Frillians to use anyway.

Plus, we didn’t need it. By the sound of her voice, the lead Strongarm had been so humbled by my sacrifice that she might have been considering a career change.

She even offered their collections of fruit, and the other two didn’t object.

Mur accepted graciously. I managed to turn my chuckling into pained noises as strong Frillian arms lifted me. I didn’t uncover my head to look. By the sounds of it, the many fruits were being balanced on Mur’s sled and the shoulders of whichever Frillian wasn’t carrying me.

“Farewell,” Mur said haughtily. “Make better choices in the future.”

We left the cavern to the sound of the ex-bandits promising to do so.

I have no idea if they’ll really go straight, but wouldn’t it be hilarious if they did?

Once we were out of sight, Blip put me down and took her share of the fruit bags. I claimed one too. I felt much lighter without the braid. And the threat of impending death.

I looked at my crewmates cheerfully. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Not without significant backup,” Mur agreed.

“Or more spare headfur!” Blop said.

“I’ve definitely spared enough for one day.” I freed a hand to pull out the hair tie, marveling at how simple a process it was now.

My crewmates all told me I looked incredibly strange with short hair about my face like that.

I told them to wait until I picked a final hairstyle, and I described hair gel to them.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

#my writing #the Token Human #writeblr #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #and other such tags #science fiction #short stories #stories that are short but not as short as they were supposed to be #seriously why is it so long #anyways!#enjoy #the next one will probably be shorter

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ventingfanfics · 1 year

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The Wrong Paper (Part 6/Finale)

Part 5 Part 4 Part 3 Part 2 Part 1

“If you want Y/N’s attention, you have to do more than trash talk whoever this other girl is,” Dean said. “It’s not the flex you think it is.”

“I’m not trying to flex, I’m looking out for her!”

“Okay, okay,” Dean said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Breathe, Scotty. Breathe. All I’m saying is don’t make it about the other girl. Make it about you. Show her why she should pick you.”

Scotty mulled over his words. She decided that she agreed with him. Maybe trying to warn you how bad Professor Shuri was for you would only increase your desire for her. Scotty could relate. Her own mother was telling her you were bad for her, yet she was undeterred.

“You’re right. She’s at this club now, I’m gonna go and see what’s up with it,” Scotty said. She figured she couldn’t go wrong with showing interest in your interest.

In the auditorium there were were about thirty students spread into groups. Everyone looked like they knew where they belonged. You spotted Scotty first and your face lit up. While you had mentioned the Design club to her, you didn’t think she’d care to show up. It’s basically the same thing as making and building things, you’d pitched to her.

“What a surprise,” You said after motioning her to come over to you.

Scotty didn’t quite agree. The way she saw it, she would go wherever you were—when she wasn’t working. Nonetheless, she let you give her a rundown. There was interior design; graphic design; fashion design; and industrial design.

“I think you’d love the industrial design club,” You said. “You get to come up with a product’s features and form, and all of that.”

“You know me too well,” Scotty replied with a soft smirk, moving closer to you. “Are you gonna be in the club, too?”

You smiled, noticing more of an assertive side to her. “Well, not just that because I’m overseeing everything for now. I’m helping Shur—Professor Shuri run the program, so right now I’m helping see how things are going and what the groups need, and stuff…”

Suddenly as if on cue, Shuri walked over to you two. Scotty shot her an icy look and Shuri raised her eyebrows before chuckling to herself and focusing on you. “Hi Y/N, how’s it going?”

“Good! Just catching Scotty up. She may join.”

Scotty looked smug, which Shuri chose to ignore. “Oh, I see. Well, I wanted to tell you, unfortunately, I have to go. Are you okay for the rest of the time? I can end it early.”

You stared at Shuri, taking in this development, and scanning the auditorium. “I think I got it…is everything okay?”

Shuri sighed and shook her head no. She glanced at Scotty who wouldn’t go away. “Walk with me, Y/N.” The two of you walked to a secluded area of the space. "So, Tasha had an accident…she’s not at the hospital, but I need to see her.”

This caught you off guard. “Oh no, what happened to her?”

“I don’t know what’s going on. I’m hearing different things. I need to get to the bottom of it and see what the hell is going on.” You nodded in understanding as you two stared at each other.

“Well, I hope she’s okay. You go ahead. I’ll be fine here.” The last thing you wanted was for Shuri to leave, but you understood. She moved next to you, lowering her voice just for you. “Can you come with me to my office?” You saw desire flash in her eyes. Even at a time like this, she wanted to have you in any capacity.

You laughed and she did the same.

“What?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You should get going.” “You know you want to kiss me, too.”

You felt your skin warm up. She did know. “It’ll only take a minute,” she said. “I have to get my things.”

“I can’t just leave.”

“Yes, you can, you’re getting ready to step in charge, and need my guidance.”

It all made sense. By appointing you as ambassador and assistant manager of some sort, it wouldn’t look suspicious for you two to interact a lot. Shuri knew what she was doing.

“Why don’t you tell Scotty to step in? I’m sure she’ll say yes.” The professor smirked.

You turned your head to look at the front of the room where things appeared orderly enough. Scotty’s back was to you, so you couldn’t see her face. You could only imagine the thoughts running through her mind.

“You have two minutes,” You heard Shuri say.

So as to not seem obvious, you waited until about thirty seconds passed before your legs took you to your professor’s office. She had on her overcoat and looked so smooth and irresistible as she seductively took you in. “Come here, sexy.”

She didn’t wait for you, she tugged you forward and kissed you urgently, as she gripped your hips. Never before had someone aroused you so much with their kisses until you met Shuri.

As you caught your breath, you managed to say, “Why must you always kiss me like that right before you have to leave?” It came out like a whine, which made you feel childish.

“To show you what you mean to me.” Tucking her finger under your chin, she held eye contact. Did she want to make your heart flutter? It was working.

“And to drive me crazy,” you added, earning a grin.

“That too.”

“So you admit it.”

The two of you delighted in the banter. “It’s only fair, sithwanda. You drive me crazy also…” She softly whispered and placed a light kiss under your eyes. “Thank you for the sugar. I’ll call you later.”

You tried to clean your mind during the walk back to the auditorium, however, you liked remembering your moments with Shuri. You felt like you could soar.

When Shuri arrived at her house, she was met with Tasha’s family. They glowered at her in her own home.

“Where is she?” She asked, keeping her composure, and expending her energy on what mattered.

“In bed, where else?” One of Tasha’s sisters quipped.

“Christine,” Tasha’s mother lectured mildly.

Shuri hung her coat up and went to the master bedroom. Tasha was in a night gown and head wrap, visibly in pain as she laid down and attempted to watch a Nigerian talk show. She sucked her teeth upon seeing her wife.

“What happened, Tasha?” Shuri demanded, cutting to the chase.

“Don’t expect an answer with that tone.” “Fine, then don’t tell me. Continue to make bad choices!”

“I knoooow you are not trying to accuse someone of bad choices…if that ain’t the pot calling the kettle…have you lost your Wakandan mind?” Tasha sat up, wincing and hissing in the process. Shuri noticed.

“This ain’t about me right now.”

“I got into an altercation, big deal. Now what I’m really mad about is that I have doctors putting me on bedrest because they think I’m stressed and acting out. I’m just a woman in a broken marriage who manages over a hundred people.”

“…Tasha, you punched your sister. Your own sister—“

“So what, sisters fight!”

“It’s not just the fighting, is it? You don’t come home until around 4 in the morning. And you still go to work. You are sleep deprived and it’s causing you to act out.”

“Why am I so called ‘acting out,’ though? Wanna talk about why that is? That my wife’s vows don’t mean shit to her! You really decided to throw us away all for some student pussy?” She argued and coughed. “I hope it was fucking worth it, Shuri.”

Shuri was quiet for sometime. “I never wanted to hurt you, Tasha,” she said sincerely.

“You’re selfish. Period. I’ve been nothing but good to you, holding you down even when I work just as hard if not harder, and this is how you repay me? Don’t you know that ihule (slut) could run and cry harassment? You’re too smart for the dumb shit, Shuri!”

“She would never do that.”

Tasha was amazed at how quickly Shuri defended you.

“Okay. Let’s see. I won’t be here for you when the shit goes down.”

Shuri closed her eyes. “You may hate me, but I want you to get well, Tasha. I don’t like seeing you fall apart. We have to do something.”

“Therapy.” Tasha smirked like she trusted Shuri would oppose it.

Shuri looked at her thoughtfully. She didn’t love the idea, but if it would help, she’d at least try it. “Okay. I will find us a therapist.”

“You will?”

“Yes. Just please get some rest and drink your fluids.”

Tasha didn’t say anything. Shuri took a breath as she returned downstairs, bracing herself for another negative exchange with Tasha’s family. To her surprise, however, they had left.

You texted Shuri that the club faired out well once she’d left. She simply liked your message and reluctantly moved on.

The judgement Scotty’s mother had for you practically wafted in the air. This had gone on for the past week when you’d show up with Scotty to her home. She would hesitantly say hi to you and give you side-eyes when she thought you were and were not looking.

“Miss Scott, is there a problem?” You heard yourself say.

She furrowed her eyebrows like she was trying to process your question. Then she looked directly at you from her seat at the kitchen table. “There are all sorts of problems. Maybe you should be more specific.”

“I know you’re not a fan of me,” You started. She didn’t deny it, just looked at you curiously and amusedly. “The only reason I come here is because Scotty wants me to. I’m sorry you hate our friendship so much.”

“I don’t hate you nor the friendship. I actually think you’re a nice girl. However, I don’t take well to my child falling for someone who is messing with a married woman.”

“What’s going on here?”

The two of you turned to see Scotty deeply frowning at the kitchen entrance.

“Y/N here started it…asked me if I have a problem.”

“It just came out, but I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

After a stretched out silence, Scotty spoke. “Y/N? Wanna tell me what happened?”

You started to speak but she pulled your arm, leading you in the living room, sitting and waiting for you to explain. “It just came out, as I said…I got tired of her hating on me.” You frowned this time.

Scotty struggled to hold in a laugh. “My mother isn’t hating on you, silly.”

“Well, she’s definitely not loving on me.” You looked at Scotty when she turned quiet after her amusement calmed down. She looked lost in thought. “I apologize. Maybe I should stop coming here.”

“No!” Scotty quickly said. “No, you don’t have to stop. I know you’ve been unhappy this week…”

She wasn’t lying. Most of this week so far had annoyed you. And a particular gorgeous, Wakandan professor was at the center of that annoyance. What else was new?

Shuri had shared with you that she and her wife would be getting therapy. In your mind, this meant they were working on repairing their relationship. You’d decided to fall back, but what hurt was Shuri didn’t chase you. She was keeping her own distance. Her eyes would only glance at you in class. When class ended, she took so long talking to other students that you had no choice but to leave. She would stay for roughly 15 minutes in Design Club before departing (and not invite you to her office.)

You felt discarded.

“Let’s lay down,” Scotty suggested. You let her take your hand and steer you once more. “I’ll be right back.” She most likely went to tend to her mother. As you got comfortable on Scotty’s bed, the tears came.

When Scotty returned, she had you cry onto her chest. You inhaled her fresh laundry scent as you weepingly cuddled into her.

“You were right.”

The only reason you’d accepted Erik’s invitation to indulge another outing with his friends knowing Shuri would probably be there was because you were allowed to bring Scotty. Even still, you didn’t plan on staying long.

This time the gathering was held at Nakia’s condo.

“Would you look at that, Y/N got herself a lady friend!” M’Baku. “I should confess I am jealous.”

“N***a, please, you never had a chance,” Erik said.

“I probably had more of a chance than you did.”

“Ooooh,” everyone cooed.

“Actually, neither of the men could have a chance,” You said.

“That’s right, tell them, Y/N!” Nakia said while everyone collectively spoke among themselves, "ooh'ing" again. Afterwards, she showed you and Scotty to the kitchen where the catered food wrapped in foil containers awaited. Shuri was posted up with a red cup, chatting with W’Kabi and Okoye.

She stopped laughing, her eyes glued to you. Her eyes darkened when she saw Scotty before a smirk appeared.

“You all remember Y/N, right? And her friend….”

“Scotty,” she said.

“Scotty and Y/N,” Nakia said warmly.

“Yes, the student,” Okoye said, making you blush.

You and Scotty helped yourselves with plates and then left the kitchen, feeling awkward. You found an available seat next to an unfamiliar woman. She was beautiful.

“Hi, I’m Tasha,” she said with a vibrant smile.

Your plate fell to the floor causing commotion.

“It’s okay,” Scotty assured you. “I’ll make you a new one.” She went to the kitchen.

You apologized profusely as you, Riri, and M’baku cleaned up. You were embarrassed, so you excused yourself to the bathroom. Holding the sink, your thoughts of you being a home-wrecker barged in on you. What if Tasha wanted to fight? Somehow it didn’t compare to Shuri removing herself from your life. You wouldn’t let her see you cry, though.

When you finally left the bathroom, you saw Tasha, who gave you a blank look before entering. You returned to the living room where everyone was watching Bad Boys.

“Are you okay?” Scotty asked you as you sat on her lap.

You offered a soft smile and nodded. She kissed your cheek, her arm draped around your own lap. Your eyes couldn’t help to land on Shuri. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked at Scotty.

It wasn’t clear to you whether this was motivated by Shuri’s observant eyes or just purely her own desire as Scotty rubbed your thigh.

Later that night

Shuri impatiently stood behind your door. Yes, it was late, but did you have to take so long? She needed to see you and now. Your phone only rang and sent her to voicemail. She then messaged you, letting you know she was outside.

“What are you doing here?” You glared at her, hands on your hips when you finally answered. You looked so cute in your little T-shirt and joggers that hung off your waist.

“Obviously to see you, Y/N.”

“Well, I don’t want to see you.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“It’s 2AM!”

“Ha,” she said, inviting herself in. “Do you have someone in here?”

“That is none of your concern,” You sharply replied.

She ignored that comment and started going upstairs. You gaped at her, following behind. You hurried after her and pulled her back causing her to spin around to you.

“Am I right? You have someone in here?”

“There is something wrong with you.”

“Answer my question, entle.” She smirked. “Who is it? Scotty?”

“You need to stop!” You warned. “Go home to Tasha!”

“My home is not with her, it’s with you.”

“Nope! I’m not doing this. I’m not doing this with you—“ Your words died in your throat as she pinned you to the wall in the corridor. She kissed you roughly. She then softened her kisses. “I’m sorry, usana.” Her forehead rested to yours.

“It’s too late for that. Go back to her.”

She pulled back. “No, I do not want her, I want you.” She peered at you pleadingly. “Just allow me to make it up to you, baby. Please.” She descended to her knees, holding your legs.

“No, you’re only going to play me again. I deserve better.”

At that, she jolted up to her feet. “Who’s better? Scotty? She can’t love you like I do. We both know it.” She proceeded towards your room again, not letting you pull her back this time. She was shut up to see there wasn’t anyone in your room. You smirked widely and she took off her coat and pants, knowing you didn’t want anyone sitting on your bed in outside clothes. She stripped down to her sports bra and boxers.

“Good girl, you know you better not have had anyone else in here.” She got in your bed holding up the covers for you to join. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

You hated that she was tempting. “Talk to me from here.”

Seeing you were serious, she agreed. “I only agreed to do therapy because I wanted to get to the root of me and Tasha’s issues. I wanted to understand how I was able to fall for someone else so quickly. It could not have just been your story. Yet that is what brought us together. It was destined. I know that now. I needed to do some deep-reflecting and, unfortunately, that involved distancing myself from you. Don’t think though that for one second, it was easy for me. It was one of the greatest challenges of my life, being away from you or being around you yet not doing anything about it. Seeing you at the function tonight really forced me to confront myself and my feelings. I should have been your date. You should’ve been sitting on my lap, cuddled in my arms. I miss the way you look at me and talk to me and touch me…the way you get shy yet freaky for me. I miss the scent of your hair and sneaking around with you on campus…but I’m a grown woman, I shouldn’t have to hide how I feel…I told Tasha that I want to move on. I wish her all the best, but I don’t see a future with her anymore. And more importantly, it’s not what I want.”

You shot her a look that said you were unconvinced, though you were in awe at what she was saying. “You really want me for me? It’s not some little fantasy for you?”

“No, usana. I wouldn’t be going the lengths I have if it was just a fantasy to me. You didn’t even look in your purse, did you?”

Your skin heated up. You had burned the bag Shuri gotten you.

“That means no,” she laughed.

“What did you put in it?” Your curiosity was piqued.

“Something special from Wakanda. Why don’t you go get it and see?”

The room got quiet. Shuri sat up.

“You got rid of it,” she guessed.

“I didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.” You shrugged defensively. “You hurt me, Shuri. I was in immense pain. I felt weightless.”

She frowned deeply. “Come to me, princess, come to me.” You didn’t move. You cried instead. She went to hold you, gently kissing your hot tears. “I’m truly sorry, Y/N. You’re right, you didn’t deserve that.”

“How do I even know I can trust you?” You pushed her arms from around you. She looked saddened and laid down.

“I have to work to earn your trust.”

You sighed and got under your covers. This was a lot.

“I’m not going anywhere, usana,” she said when you shut the light. "You're stuck with me."

AN: Thank you so much for reading, liking, commenting and/or reblogging! I was so into this lmao.

#shuri udaku x reader #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri x you #shuri imagine #shuri fanfic #shuri fanfiction #princess shuri #queen shuri #black panther imagine #black panther fanfiction #black panther fandom #shuri black panther #marvel fanfic writer #mcu fanfiction #marvel imagine #wlw fanfiction

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spartanguard · 6 months

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cryptid chaos (A Tall Tail)

Summary: It's almost Halloween, and the recently freed Author has decided to make Storybrooke into the setting of a horror novel. Emma suddenly has actual swan wings; Killian is even more of a mer-creature than usual. But how do they undo all the changes when no one knows how the Author's power works? Can they figure it out--or are they stuck? a/n: Welcome back to the A Tall Tail verse! So I definitely meant to have this done for Halloween, but…it's still spooky season, right? Hope you enjoy some silliniess! rated T | 8.7k words | AO3 | A Tall Tail

Emma let out a long sigh as she stared across the water of the harbor, the full moon’s dappled reflection dancing in the waves. What a freakin’ week. In all the chaos of the so-called Queens of Darkness and locking Gold away, they’d kind of forgotten about one of the bigger things they’d been trying to do: tracking down the mysterious author of Henry’s storybook in search of Regina’s happy ending.

Once things had settled down a bit, they got back into it—kind of literally; it turned out the Author (whose name was Isaac, apparently) had actually been trapped inside the book. She was becoming more and more used to (or jaded by) magical bullshit, so to see a man emerge from the pages of a gigantic tome from a key inserted to an illustration of a door wasn’t the oddest thing she’d seen, but it was still weird.

Although now it’s just a headache, she complained to herself.

Since his arrival—or, rather, escape—the squirrelly man had been causing all sorts of drama across town; I guess that’s what a writer does, huh? It had all been petty nonsense, or people with bones to pick about how their life had gone (and really with no one to blame for it but themselves), but everyone had been demanding her help in dealing with it and she needed a damn break.

Which was why she was waiting for Killian on the deck of the Jolly Roger; he’d gone out for one of his usual swims to calm his magic, but they had plans to spend the night together. Alone. And very close, with few clothes. (Maybe with some rum in there, too.) Technically, Emma was early, but her little brother was teething and, though she felt bad leaving her parents to deal with that, she’d needed to get away from the chaos of the loft.

Being by the water was definitely calming her down, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off; maybe it was just Isaac, and the psychological upheaval he seemed to be inducing in most of the town; or maybe it was just the fact that it was a full moon and they were a few days away from Halloween—gods only know what kind of trouble that can bring to a town like this.

That was a problem for future Emma, though; current Emma smiled when she heard footsteps fall on the gangplank and began to turn around to greet her True Love.

“Was wondering when you’d…oh.” Her face fell; it was Isaac. “Can I help you?” (...Get out of town, preferably.)

“Actually, I was hoping it’d be the other way around,” he said, in a way that reminded her of an appliance store salesman.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Have you ever heard of the legend of swan maidens?” he asked, moving closer to her; she wanted to yell at him about setting foot on deck without the captain’s permission, but she was too confused.

“Uh, some of it, I guess?”

He pulled out a pad of paper and an antique-looking pen from his coat pocket as he went on. “Well, there’s a few, but I’ve always been a fan of some of the Irish stories—the ones where their goddesses choose to take on the form of a swan, only identifiable by a chain around their neck,” he said, nodding at Emma’s own silver necklace. Instinctively, her hand went to it—to hide it, she guessed, even though her old swan pendant was long gone and the necklace she’d fashioned for her magic seashell was made of leather. What the hell is he getting at?

He looked down at his notepad and started to scribble something down. “I imagine that would come with a lot of freedom—especially from some unwanted burdens,” he continued. Oh, like your presence? Emma quipped in her head. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I guess,” she said, unconvinced. Her phone then vibrated in her pocket; hopefully, Isaac was almost done here.

“Good,” he replied, with a smile on his face that she couldn’t quite read. Then he tore the page off his notebook and handed it to her.

Not thinking, she took it. She tried to read the drying ink on the paper, but only managed to recognize the word “wings” before a blast of magic sent her falling backwards—and over the railing of the ship into the water below.

Please let Killian be here, she hoped; but no such luck. Instead, she fell into the sea with a splash and the cold water stole her breath. She tried to move her arms up and down to ascend, but it felt like they were made of lead. Still, she pushed through, and finally broke through the surface.

She gave herself a minute to float and catch her breath before swimming back over to the ship (and punching the crap out of Isaac).

It was odd, though—usually, she needed more lower-body effort to tread water, but her arms alone were keeping her above surface-level.

So that’s when she looked at her arms—and screamed. “What the fuck? What the FUCK?” She didn’t care who heard her swear—but, on second thought, she did care who saw her.

Because she now had freaking wings where her arms had been. Not, like, angel wings coming from her back or something—literal long, feathered appendages where her much-shorter arms had been a minute ago. In fact, they looked like…”A swan,” she realized on a breath. Just what the hell did Isaac do?

She glanced around for the piece of paper he’d given her, but it was floating ahead of her, completely soaked—and illegible. But it had to be him, right?

Well, first thing first: she had to get out of the water. Can I fly? She flapped her arms—wings—whatever they were, if only to see what would happen. Astonishingly, she did rise out of the water a bit, before falling back even farther in.

Undeterred (and starting to feel self-conscious), she did again, and again, until, somehow, she was in the air. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but some new sort of muscle memory took over and all too soon, she was soaring around the harbor. This is actually kind of cool, she acknowledged, but definitely not something I want permanently.

Isaac was no longer on the ship; she should probably try to track him down, but she had no clue how to counter…whatever it was he was doing. She was still pretty fuzzy on his powers and how they worked. Regina was the most likely person to find, but for some reason, she didn’t want to bother her just yet; nor did she want to terrify her parents by turning up at the loft like this.

And she definitely didn’t want Killian to see her. So she headed to the only place she could think of—the cove; he wouldn’t think to look for her there, and she could stay away from prying eyes. And gods only know what this wind is doing to my hair.

Somehow, she managed to land on her feet on the rocky shore, though she wouldn’t call it graceful. Her wings instinctively folded in on themselves; that’s gonna take some getting used to. And she paced the beach while thinking of what to do—and coming up with no ideas.

She was the Savior and the Sheriff; shouldn’t I be out there trying to stop him? But how could she when she didn’t know how? And was this a targeted attack, or was he going to do this again? Is this why I can’t shake this weird feeling about him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by splashing near Killian’s rock. Oh crap; that better not be him. Cautiously, she stepped closer, but extended her wings in case she needed to make a hasty escape.

Something reached up from the water—but it wasn’t her True Love. It had webbed fingers, and blue-toned skin covered in scales, like some creature out of a horror film.

Nope. Not dealing with monsters, too. Before whatever-it-was could climb out of the water and terrify her further, she took flight (much faster this time) and flew off into the night. She didn’t know where she was headed, but she was getting as far away from the water as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian broke through the surface at the cove to see something flying away. Bloody hell; I bet that was her. Given what had just happened to him—and comments that bloody author fellow had made—he had to assume something similar happened to Emma. And whatever that creature was looked particularly like a swan.

He’d been out for his regular swim, with plans to meet Emma at his ship for a much-needed evening alone. There were times when he was under water that he lost track of time, but tonight was not one of them—not when he knew he’d be having much more fun above the surface.

But when he ascended to the deck of the Jolly Roger, he was shocked to see Isaac there. Alone. When he asked if he could assist him, the man instead returned the offer, then pointed to Killian’s tail, on full display as he perched on the railing. “What a plot twist,” the man commented. “I never could have anticipated that. Makes for an excellent story.”

“Aye; I suppose,” Killian had responded, confused. Isaac continued on, though, talking about other creatures of the deep; honestly, Killian was distracted, and starting to get worried about Emma, when he mindlessly agreed to something Isaac had said—perhaps about truly embracing his powers?

The author had written something with a queer-looking quill on a notepad, then tore it off and came closer to Killian. “I’m glad you agree; Emma did, too.” Then he handed the sheet over.

“What did Emma—” Killian started to ask as he took the slip of paper, but he didn’t get to finish his question before a wave of magic came from nowhere and toppled him off his seat.

He was distinctly aware of the way some odd magic was wrapping around him as he fell back into the ocean—it was definitely transformation magic, but unlike the kind he usually felt, which focused on his lower half, this went all over. It’s like when the Dark One cursed me…but at least not painful.

Once he regained his orientation underwater, he gave himself a checkover; for starters, he could see much clearer than he should have been able to at this time of night. He definitely had gills on his neck again—but also a few along his ribcage as well. He ran his fingers over them, which when he noticed that the webbing between them had returned—but rather than his usual pallor, his skin seemed to have taken on a bluish hue and was covered with even more scales. And he took my bloody chest hair again.

The real question was if it had the same effect on his ability to breathe out of the water; thankfully, when he broke the surface, he didn’t suffocate. That will at least make this easier—whatever this is. He hated to make a retreat, but he didn’t want to draw any undue attention by his odd appearance now, so he dove back under and made for the cove; he had to hope Emma would understand—and prayed she wasn’t dealing with a similar transformation of some sort.

But seeing the winged creature fleeing the beach seemed to confirm his fears; and knowing Emma, despite everything, she’d want to deal with it on her own. Like hell I’ll let her, though.

But he’d give her a moment to calm down, and took one of his own to assess if this new spell had altered his powers; thankfully, as a whirlpool formed in the water in front of him where he sat on the edge of the rock, he seemed to be alright on that front. He wasn’t sure what was ahead, but had a feeling those would be necessary.

Then he reached for the shell necklace that always hung around his neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma was trying to live up to the bird stereotype by perching in a tree in the middle of the forest. Trying being the operative word; oh right—swans are waterfowl. But she eventually managed to find her balance high up in a birch. It was only a temporary solution, but it was the one she felt most confident about right now. She just wished her unexpected dive hadn’t fried her phone so she could let her parents or Killian know she was fine; not like I could really use it now anyway, what with the lack of fingers and all.

Of course, that’s when her other means of communication made itself known. “Swan?”

She cringed for a moment; normally, she loved the way Killian said her chosen surname, but it was a little too on the nose right now. (At least I don’t have a beak too, I guess?)

Taking hold of the shell was a whole other thing, though; it worked best when held in a hand, but she wasn’t sure how it would work with—gods, what even was her bone structure right now? She’d never had an ornithology class like Henry did.

Regardless, she had to figure out how to get some sort of grip on the shell hanging around her neck; it took a fair amount of fumbling, but she somehow managed to bend her wings just enough to prop the shell on her elbows(?) and bring it closer to her mouth.

“Hey, I’m here,” she finally answered, though her tone was far from casual.

“Are you…okay, love?” He sounded like he already knew the answer; it wasn’t her thing to stand him up without a word.

“I…don’t really know,” she answered.

“Something happened,” he said more than asked.

“Yeah.”

“Isaac?”

Uh-oh. “Yeah,” she replied, a bit more confidently.

“Me too.�� He at least sounded less morose than she did, but this—this wasn’t good. “I’m at the cove; meet me here?”

“I, uh,” she stammered. “I don’t know if you’d, ah, want to see me right now.”

“Emma, you know I always want to see you. Besides, I likely have more reason to say that—although I dare say you’ve seen me looking less than ideal before.”

Gods, what had happened to him? He was right, though; he always freaking is. “Yeah, okay; just—give me a few.”

“I can’t wait.” She smiled; regardless of—whatever was going on, she knew he was telling the truth.

Flying was getting easier; she wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but was really just concerned about what kinds of phone calls were coming into the station about some giant bird flying over Storybrooke. Not a problem for tonight though.

Landing, however, was still hit or miss; in this instance, a miss: she didn’t quite slow down enough as she came into the cove and ended up rolling across the pebbled shore. “Owww,” she moaned as she stood and shook the sand from her feathers—then froze when she heard a gasp come from behind her.

She turned—and her own breath stilled. It was definitely Killian seated on the rock (who was definitely the owner of the hand that had scared her earlier, she was embarrassed to admit). His whole upper body was that blue color, made all the more apparent by his lack of body or facial hair (goddammit, Isaac took his beard?)—like when he was under that weird merrow curse, but apparently without the confinement to the water.

Slowly, she moved closer, noticing other new features and—was it just her, or were his eyes an even brighter blue? Or did they just seem like that with how much younger he always looked without his scruff? She wanted to touch his skin, to see what it felt like; she started to reach for him until she remembered—she couldn’t.

Killian, for his part, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her; his expression was unusually unreadable. “What?” she had to ask, feeling even more self conscious.

He smiled, his dimples even more visible. “Still so beautiful, Swan.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, emphasis on the swan part.”

“I dare say you ‘rock it’, as Henry says.”

Well, that made her laugh. “Okay, fine, but they shouldn’t be here at all,” she complained, her subsequent huff even more visible now.

“Nor should this,” he countered, waving his now-webbed fingers at her. “And we’ll figure out how to get back to normal. But perhaps we'll leave it for tomorrow?” He stroked the edge of her wing with the back of his hand, sending a chill up her spine—a good feeling for the first time since…has it only been an hour? Damn.

She knelt down next to him and, awkwardly, wrapped her wings around him in the best approximation of a hug she could manage. He slipped his arms around her waist to pull her close; he was even colder than usual, but it was the closest she’d felt to normal since this all started, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

It certainly wasn’t how she planned on spending their night, but it’d have to do for now; with any luck, they’d at least be able to go without interruption for a bit.

“Mom? Hook?” Spoke too soon. She didn’t move away from Killian, but she did sit up and look over her shoulder; Henry was standing not far from them, looking confused and concerned. “Something weird is going on.”

Obviously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s the matter, lad?” It was obvious to Killian that Henry was avoiding eye contact, and he didn’t blame him—he was sure they were quite the sight. But hopefully if he remained somewhat calm, Henry would, too.

“Well, I…uh, I was going to say that Isaac has been going around and changing things, but I think you might kinda know?”

“What else has he done?” Emma asked, stiffening in Killian’s arms.

“A bunch of things,” Henry explained. “It started with my mom—I don’t know exactly what he did, but she ran off to her vault, and was covering her face. So I went to see Grandma & Grandpa, but they didn’t answer—I just heard some weird noises behind the door. No one was at Granny’s but I think she’s a wolf again, because there was a big silver one hanging out with Ruby. And I think I saw a swarm of fairies or something? I’ve never seen them small like that.”

Bloody hell; what a mess. It would have been naive to assume he and Emma were Isaac’s only targets, but he’d thought the man was trying to help Regina; why had he attacked her, too?

“What the hell is he doing—making his own little circus sideshow?” Emma complained; that’s certainly what it felt like. “I didn’t think he could even do that.”

“I’ve been working with Belle to figure out how his powers work, but we haven’t gotten very far,” Henry said. “And he won’t say.”

“To the library, then?” Killian posited; one of the best things about regaining his legs was his ability to help out there again. But, speaking of—

“How can we get you there?” Emma wondered, reading his mind. “I can barely fly myself, let alone both of us.”

“Maybe my cuff still works? It’s still on the ship.”

“I’ll go get it.”

Watching Emma take flight was somewhat amusing, but also somewhat beautiful, particularly when she opened her wings fully to lift her off the ground. And much like how quickly he adapted to a lack of legs, there was something almost natural about her flying.

“Wow,” Henry gasped as she took to the air. “That’s…wow.”

“Aye,” Killian sighed. “Obviously none of this is ideal, but I don’t think anyone would complain if you managed to get some pictures with your talking device?”

Henry smirked. “I’ll try.” But his face quickly fell.

“Hey—we’ll figure this out,” Killian assured him. “We always do.”

“I know,” the boy answered. “It was just—the way my mom looked at me before she left. It was Ike she was scared…of me.”

No wonder he’s shaken; poor kid. “Whatever it was, I’m sure she was just trying to keep you safe; I’ve never known her to have any other motivation,” Killian told him, hoping that comforted him.

“Yeah; I’m just worried.”

“Understandable. But let’s try to channel that into focus, aye?” He’d had many an anxious deckhand over the years, not to mention his time spent with Henry’s father, so coaching a nervous young man was nothing new.

Henry nodded just as Emma returned; damn, that was quick. Her land was much more graceful this time around (still far from perfect, but just as endearing).

She had the cuff in her mouth and nearly spat it at him. “Sorry; wasn’t sure how else to hold it,” she explained, before opening her mouth to stretch her jaw.

“It’s fine,” he waved off, ignoring the new teeth marks in the leather. “Here’s hoping this works.” He slipped it on and felt the familiar transformation magic take hold; at least it’s welcome this time.

It worked—mostly. “Huh,” was all he could manage to say when he pulled his legs from the water. He had them, at least, but they had the same pallor and texture as the rest of his skin. (At least, for Henry’s sake, my briefs returned, too.)

“Well? How do you feel?” Emma asked as he stood up.

“Parched,” he answered honestly. Despite being able to breathe out of the water, he immediately felt dehydrated.

“Yeah, you look a little…dull,” Henry confirmed.

He mused for a second, then called up some water from the sea. It swirled around his legs and waist, creating a sort of aquatic garment. It likely looked strange, but he immediately felt better.

“Shall we?”

The three of them surely made an odd sight as they walked through town—of all the weird things Storybrooke had seen, a harpy and a creature from the depths traipsing down Main Street was definitely up there. Despite knowing he wasn’t the only one in a new form tonight, Killian couldn’t help but feel rather like a fish out of water, quite literally; he didn’t often feel self conscious, but the sooner he stopped dripping water down the sidewalk, the better. He just hoped that idiot author hadn't done anything too drastic to anyone else.

The library was unlocked—unsurprising, given the unusually late hours Belle kept it open (typically for situations just like this)—but the mess that greeted them in the foyer was a shock. What in Poseidon’s name happened here?

“Belle, love? You here?” he called out; the worry in his voice was obvious. It wasn’t like her to leave things like this unless something was wrong.

“Back here,” Belle’s voice said, but—why is she so loud?

The three of them made their way to the back part of the library—he was careful not to drip on any of the strewn books—to where it looked like even more of a disaster area. Shelves were knocked down domino-style and ceiling tiles were scattered over them. A few lights had been knocked out, too, making the farthest part of the library dark—but not so dark they couldn’t still see Belle.

It would be hard for her to hide—she was probably 20 feet tall now, if not more, but she’d somehow managed to curl up along the back wall.

“Well, you’re finally taller than me,” Killian eventually quipped, once he found his voice again. What else was he supposed to say? Emma tried to slap him with the back of her hand, but only ended up smacking his chest with the end of her wing and making him stumble backwards.

Belle chuckled—making the whole building vibrate—but then admonished, “Don’t you dare drip on any of these books?”

I’m bloody trying! Regardless, he acknowledged the order with a salute, but Henry got down to business. “What happened?”

“Isaac,” Belle spat. Now that they were closer to her, though, her voice boomed in the comparatively smaller space, making them all wince. “Oh, sorry,” she said softer—but that just brought her back to normal volume. “Something tells me you lot have seen him too?”

“Yup,” Emma confirmed, concurrent with Killian’s “aye”.

“He was commenting on my height,” she started—throwing a pointed look at Killian— “and how impressive it was that someone so small had such power over the Dark One.” The roll of her eyes was almost audible. “Then he said something about my stature matching my personality; I thought he was joking so I said ‘sure’, then he handed me a piece of paper and—this happened.”

“Yeah, that’s what he did to us, too,” Emma said; evidently, Isaac could alter things by writing them—but how?

“Do you have the paper?” Henry asked.

“Um,” Belle hummed, glancing around at the debris surrounding her. “Yeah, here it is,” she said when she found it, placing her (massive) finger on it and sliding it across the tile to them.

Henry picked it up and read aloud: “A giantess: so your stature matches your spirit.” His brow furrowed. “He’s turning people into cryptids?”

“At least, various kinds of mythical beasts,” Killian concurred; if there were actually any beasts out there that resembled him at the moment, he’d have likely encountered them by now. “But you had to agree with him first, right, Belle?”

“I guess so; was it the same with you?”

“He can only change our fate if we want him to,” Emma concluded; he agreed with the hypothesis. “Isn’t that why he was working with Regina?”

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed. “But he did something to her, too.”

“Do you know anything about how his powers work?” Killian wondered, turning back to Belle.

“Only what I saw firsthand,” she supplied. “It’s definitely connected to writing, but I don’t know yet if it’s his own magic or if there’s a conduit, like the pen or the ink. Regina might; or…” She chewed on her bottom lip and ducked her head. “Or Rumple would.”

Of bloody course he would. But they all cast their eyes downward, knowing the Dark One was still locked up in a cell a hundred feet below them.

Before he could start to steel himself to face the Crocodile again, Emma decided. “Regina first,” she stated. “Before we go, do you need anything? Like, can we help you get out or anything?”

“No; I’m fine for now; but I might need some food if this goes on much longer.”

“We’ll do our best to get it worked out,” Killian assured her; there was no way he was going to let his best friend essentially become a prisoner in her favorite place. And who’d have thought it’d be an author that put her there?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After saying goodbye, they hustled across town to the cemetery. Along the way, they were startled by the two wolves prowling the patio at Granny’s, and it felt like there was something lurking down every alley, hiding in the shadows.

A stream of colored, bobbing lights flew overhead—the fairies, in their true form, Emma had to assume. Farther up the street, it looked like the dwarves had gathered together, too. Oh gods—what did he do to them?

Surprisingly: nothing. “That weirdo tried to ‘revert us to normal’ or something, but whatever he did, it didn’t work. Probably because we’re already technically ‘magical’ creatures,” Leroy explained, using plenty of finger quotes. “So we’ve just been patrolling for trouble since it seems like we’re the only ones not dealing with shit.” He heavily glanced at Emma’s wings then.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, studying the pavement. “If anything happens, text Henry or Regina, okay?”

“Will do, sister; think we filled up the answering machine at the station anyways.” Yeah, that checks out; she sighed and carried on.

The vault door was open once they got there, but the crypt was closed over the hidden door; that was easy enough to move, though.

“Mom?” Henry called out as he descended the steps ahead of her. “Are you okay?”

Regina was nowhere to be seen in the first room at the foot of the stairs, so Emma called out for her, too—while being careful to keep her wings tucked in and not knock anything over.

“You shouldn’t be here!” Regina’s voice came from…somewhere farther back in the vault—a part Emma had never been to.

“Wait here,” she told Henry, then crept off in the direction it sounded like Regina was hiding in. It was dusty and, weirdly, she felt it settle on her feathers in a way that itched. But down a passage and behind some shelves, she saw a huddled form. “Regina? You alright?”

“Why are you here, Miss Swan?” she bit back, hiding in the shadows. “And why did you bring our son?”

“Because he’s worried about you,” she tossed back. “And honestly, I am, too; what’s going on?”

“That stupid author—that’s what,” Regina spat. “Supposedly, this is how he’s helping me get my ‘happy ending’.”

“...By making everyone else something out of a horror movie?”

“And by making me an immortal, apparently.” Regina stepped into what little light there was. She looked a bit pale, but not a lot more than usual. If anything, she was somehow more gorgeous. (Yes, despite their past issues, Emma could still admit that Regina was an impossibly beautiful woman.)

“Immortal how?”

Regina smiled—kind of; more like bared her teeth. But that’s when Emma saw it: she had fangs. Like a… “Vampire?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Regina said sadly. “I didn’t even know what he was getting at when he started writing it down; he just went on about ‘getting away from my problems someday’. I didn’t think he meant outliving them.”

Who on earth would think that was a good idea? “Is that why you ran away from Henry?”

Regina nodded. “This is going to sound awful, but…his blood smelled amazing.”

“Shit.” I’d run away, too. “Uh, do you need me to leave, too?”

“No; apparently, I don’t have the palate for bird blood.”

“Hopefully you don’t want fish, either,” she quipped back.

Brow furrowing (in a way that absolutely made her look like something out of Buffy), Regina sniffed the air. “Hook? What did he do to him?”

“Did you ever see The Shape of Water?”

“Oh, wow. Well, uh, have fun with that.”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No—and definitely not in front of Henry.”

They both giggled, but it was only a brief moment of levity. “So can you tell me anything about how this happened—like, how the author powers work? So we can undo it?”

“Some, but he hasn’t been very forthcoming with the details,” Regina answered; she confirmed that his powers were tied to his pen and ink, as well as their theory that it has to be something they want. “He can change things but he still needs some level of consent from at least one party. We should be glad he didn’t write us into an entirely new reality.”

Emma shuddered. “So, what—we just track him down and force him to change it?”

“Maybe? It’s a good theory, but Rumpelstiltskin knows far more about this than I do.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Sorry. Just…don’t bring Henry down there, okay?”

Emma was about to protest—where the hell else am I going to take him to keep him safe from Isaac?—when Regina’s phone rang.

“Crap—what did he do to them?” the mayor complained when she saw who was calling—Snow. She answered the call with a snarky “And what shape are you in?”

Except—she didn’t get a response. Normally, Snow would huff at Regina’s sass, but the only thing that came across was just a series of grunts and grumbles.

“Snow?” The grunting seemed to make a noise of affirmation. “What is going on over there? This better not be the world’s worst butt dial.” (“They don’t sound like that,” Emma quipped, cringing.) But then crying came over the speaker—definitely Neal.

“He’s still teething?” Regina winced. “That was the worst.”

“Yeah—but who’s there with him?” If her parents were fine, nothing would be stopping them from trying to soothe him; Neal pretty much only wanted to be held by her dad right now. “We better check that out first.”

“Absolutely. And let me know how everything else goes.”

“Will do. Do you need anything before we go?”

Regina chewed on her lip, her fangs even more apparent. “Did you see any squirrels up there? I’m starving.” Emma bit back a giggle. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious. And if you ever bring this up again, I can make sure those wings are permanent.”

Emma definitely laughed to herself all the way to the loft, though. Until she heard the sound of her brother crying and her motherly instincts kicked in. “Wait here; let me see what’s going on first,” she told the boys, then knocked on the door with one of her elbows (or whatever those joints were). The same grunting she heard on the phone came from the other side, but somehow more urgent.

Henry ended up having to turn the knob for her, but then she slipped in—and, yet again, her jaw dropped.

“Well, Mom does always say you have big feet,” she said, once she regained something resembling her faculties.

The sandy-blond sasquatch that had David’s eyes huffed in annoyance. Meanwhile, the snow-white yeti that vaguely looked like her mom wasn’t hesitating to take her by the wing and drag her to the bassinet, where Neal was inconsolable.

“He’s scared of you?” Emma guessed; Snow nodded sadly.

(Seriously—Snow, a yeti? At least Isaac has a sense of humor.)

“Okay, but I can’t do much either,” she said, flapping her wings. “Henry? It’s okay; can you come in?”

She saw his phone come through the door before he did, no doubt taking plenty of photos and videos for them to look back on. “That’s just wrong,” he concluded at the sight of his (much hairier) grandparents; Killian was clearly holding back a quip, no doubt in response to David’s many jokes in the past about his chest hair (especially given the current reversal of that situation).

“Kid, think you can take care of your uncle while we figure the rest of this out?”

He pocketed his phone and quickly scooped up Neal. “Sure thing. We got this, right, little dude?” Neal quieted for a little bit, but then let out another ear-piercing scream. Everyone cringed.

“Okay; good luck with that—bye!” she called over her shoulder as she shoved Killian ahead of her in a hasty escape.

“Will they be okay?” Killian asked as they headed back down the stairs.

“Oh yeah, they’ll be fine. My ears will not be, though.” They shared a laugh. “Alright; let’s get this over with.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Back again?” Belle greeted them at the library, having moved slightly from her cramped spot in the back to a no more comfortable, but at least larger spot, having shoved the ruined shelves aside and laying across the whole room.

“Aye; into the belly of the beast, as it were,” Killian replied as they headed to the elevator.

“Good luck,” she said, sounding more bored than anything; despite the public’s requests, the library had yet to seriously invest in any large-print books that might help her pass the time.

As they descended in the creaky elevator, he wasn’t sure if the creeping chill he felt slipping up his spine was due to the inherent cool temperature of the caverns below, or his own emotions at facing his longtime foe for the first time in a long while—since Rumple nearly killed him that day on the docks.

Emma’s feathers brushed against his hand, startling him from his thoughts. “Sorry; I was trying to grab your hand, until I forgot I can’t. You gonna be okay?”

“I will,” he answered, hoping he could convince himself as much as her. There was nothing the Crocodile could do to them, he knew; but despite thinking he’d moved past what he’d experienced at the Dark One’s hands, his anxieties were creeping up.

“I’ll take the lead, though, okay?”

“I appreciate that, love,” he thanked, and squeezed the edge of her wing.

The caves below the library were little changed from his last trip down here, even if he was on the opposite side of things now—with the heroes, rather than against. However, this was the first time he’d seen the cage that had been fabricated to hold the imp. It was set deep into the wall, not unlike the one that had once held him back in the Enchanted Forest, but with solid metal bars clearly from this realm. It wasn’t hard to feel the magic radiating off them, though.

“Rumple? You there?” Emma called out; this cell went farther back than the light could reach, so it was easy for the man to hide. For the first time, Killian wondered what his mental state might be, given his brief insanity after being held hostage by Zelena (body sharing with his son notwithstanding).

“No,” the Crocodile’s voice called out from the shadows. “Come back later and I might be, though.”

“Ha. We found the Author.” She stood in front of the far edge of the cell.

She’s wise not to ask for help, he noticed. Handing Rumpelstiltskin any cards was a terrible idea.

“Good for you; what does that have to do with me?”

Emma had been fiddling with something on the wall with one of the joints of her wings; all of a sudden, light flooded the cell, revealing a rather dusty but otherwise normal-looking Dark One, still wearing the same (stylish, he hated to admit) suit as the day they locked him up.

Rumple blinked his eyes at the sudden brightness, but once his sight had adjusted, he skimmed over Emma and then Killian. “I see,” he said. “I’d be happy to undo it, if you let me out.”

“Nice try, but no. We’ve just been trying to figure out how his powers work. We know his pen and ink are involved. Trying to figure out if it’s worth it to steal it back.”

Killian had to school his features; he was genuinely impressed at Emma’s negotiation tactics here. Obviously, they wouldn’t be here if they didn’t need help, but outright asking would get them nowhere. As such, it was taking more effort than expected to keep a proud (or smug) look off his face.

“It’s not,” Rumple replied. “That’s only half of it.”

“Really? Regina seemed to think that’s all we needed.”

“Regina is wrong. But the only person who can actually help you is currently locked away.”

“Again, you’re not getting out.”

“Not me,” he hissed. “But the pirate knows who.”

Emma turned to Killian, confused. “Huh?”

For a brief second, he was also unsure—until he glanced over at the Dark One, who was smirking—and wiggling the fingers of his left hand.

Oh, bloody hell. Killian sighed and curled in on himself a bit. “The old man.”

“Otherwise known as the Sorcerer's Apprentice—and a thorn in my side for quite a few years, until I finally had some assistance locking him away.”

Shame flushed hot on Killian’s unusually cold cheeks. “He’s in the hat box, love,” he said quietly.

“Ah, crap,” she cursed. “Does Regina know how to get anyone else out of there, or was that a one-time thing?”

“I’ll tell you if you let me—” Rumple started, only to be cut off.

“No!” Emma interjected. “C’mon; I bet Belle knows.”

“How…how is she?” the Dark One asked, suddenly sounding rather genuine.

“She’s a bloody giantess and stuck in the library right now, thanks to that idiot author,” Killian jumped in. “But otherwise fine.”

The Crocodile opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and slumped in on himself. “The fairies,” he said, resigned. “They’ll know how to get him out by now.”

“Thanks,” Killian said quickly, then grabbed Emma by the wingtip and practically dragged her back to the elevator.

What little adrenaline he had faded on the slow ride up, and he simply wrapped himself around Emma. “Hey—this doesn’t feel like okay,” she said softly as she folded her wings around him—a feeling he was coming to quite enjoy, odd as it was.

“Just—being reminded of the man I used to be, even not that long ago,” he admitted. “I’m so sorry, Emma.”

“Hey—we’ll figure it out. And remember: that was way more Rumpelstiltskin than you.”

“I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit, love.”

“This is the one time you should just accept less of the blame, alright?”

He chuckled a bit; she knows my tendency towards self-flagellation well. “I’ll try.”

“Okay. So now, we find the hat, and then the fairies. And then maybe it’ll all be done?”

“Let’s hope.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is this night fucking over yet? Emma took a moment to breathe after Killian left to retrieve the Sorcerer’s hat box thing from Gold’s shop, per Belle’s instructions. The fact that their to-do list kept growing was really annoying, and gods only knew what else Isaac had done in the last few hours.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, but it still seemed like it was incredibly far away.

And she was craving fish sticks. Is that a swan thing? Or is that an I-never-had-dinner thing?

She gave herself one more minute to brood before starting the search for the fairies. On the bright side, they literally were—bright; she just had to be on the look out for a cloud of multicolored lights (giving off far more Christmas vibes than Halloween). But they weren’t in the middle of town, so that meant actually looking, and she did not have the energy to go traipsing around on her own right now.

Might as well use these while I have them. For hopefully the last time, she took to the sky, hoping a (literal) birds-eye view would help her locate the swarm of fairies faster. Sure enough, once she was fairly high above Main Street, she saw the floating baubles—near the convent, unsurprisingly.

They were a little miffed when she accidentally flew through the middle of them, but when she explained what was going on and what they needed, they practically carried her back downtown on their breeze.

Killian was already standing outside the library with the golden box, looking visibly uncomfortable with it. Don’t blame him. Before she even had a chance to (try to) properly land, Blue was buzzing in front of him, conducting a few other fairies to take the box and hold it in front of her.

She stood next to Killian and watched as the head fairy went to work quickly, waving her wand and muttering something over the cylinder. The starry blue top began to swirl, like it had when they released the fairies, and glowed as it became something more resembling a portal.

All of a sudden, it stopped, and an old man that Emma had seen around town a couple times was seated on the pavement, looking rather bedraggled (though I think he kind of always did).

Killian didn’t hesitate to rush forward and help the man up, no doubt uttering profuse apologies as he did. The Apprentice was trying to get his bearings, it seemed, but was at least appreciative for his freedom.

“Hi,” Emma jumped in, not wanting to delay things any longer. “I know you just got out of that hellhole, but we were kind of hoping you could help us with something.”

He looked her up and down, and then Killian. “I can see that,” he said gruffly. “I don’t recall the Savior having wings.”

“Uh, yeah, recent addition. What can you tell us about the Author?”

She didn’t think it was possible for the man’s bushy brow to furrow further, but it did. “That blasted fool…this was Isaac’s doing?”

Everyone nodded—and that was a lot of everyones; at some point, more and more townsfolk had converged on the main intersection, and it was apparent that all manner of mythical creature and cryptid were now among its citizens.

The Apprentice looked around at everyone, then tutted. “Shameful, shameful—abusing his powers like that. That’s why I banished him in the first place. Whose brilliant idea was it to free him?”

“Uh, mine,” Regina said, stepping forward (with a scarf wrapped around her face, likely to block the smell of…everyone).

“Yeah, that checks out,” the Apprentice huffed. “Well, on the bright side, he’s probably ran out of power by now. He can no longer do harm, but he also won’t be able to undo what he’s done.”

“Can’t you just give him a magical eraser or something?” Emma wondered. (Regina smirked, even under the scarf.)

The Apprentice chuckled. “No; I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. However, if Isaac has lost his powers, then a new Author needs to be chosen, and I have a feeling we’ll find one here.”

“Where?” Killian practically demanded.

“The Author has to believe in the stories, truly—in their heart,” he said dramatically, placing his hand on his chest.

She and Regina exchanged a look; we know someone who fits that description exactly.

Emma called up to Blue, asking them to find Isaac and bring him there, while she took off in the direction of the loft.

In the time it took her to get her son (and her parents, because they should really be there for whatever was about to happen, too), something resembling chaos broke out in the scene that she had left. An angry mob formed in the crossroad, surrounding Isaac, who lay prone on the pavement, being held down by an irate Regina, baring her fangs.

“You did this to me,” she hissed. “Why shouldn’t I use it against you?”

The man looked terrified; serves him right. The crowd was shouting for him to fix what he’d done (her parents grumbling incoherently in agreement), several voices demanding he undo it.

“I can’t!” he shouted back. “The pen doesn’t work for me anymore!” To underline his point, he tossed the enchanted quill away.

“I warned you not to abuse your power this way,” the Apprentice said, his voice deafening even the most frantic shouts around him. “You deserve everything these people might do to you.”

Isaac glanced at Granny and Ruby, who were snarling at him, and whimpered.

Emma was distracted, though, by Henry. He had something of a faraway look in his eyes, and almost mindlessly passed Neal off to Snow (at least the kid was asleep). His focus narrowed on something ahead of him, on the ground: the pen.

She watched as he carefully moved forward, almost as if he was drawn to it. Emma’s gaze darted briefly, first to Regina, who was also watching; then to the Apprentice, who almost seemed to be smiling where he stood next to Killian.

The crowd also realized what was going on and a hushed silence fell as Henry neared the object.

He knelt in front of it, reached out, and carefully picked it up. It glowed as soon as his fingers touched the enchanted instrument.

“I thought so,” the Apprentice said warmly. Emma couldn’t help but beam with pride and ruffle her feathers; Regina grinned too, not bothering to hide her fangs.

Henry blinked and stood. “Wait, what?”

“You, young sir, are the new Author,” the Apprentice explained, approaching Henry. From thin air, he produced a vial of ink. “And I dare say far more worthy than your predecessor.” He threw a dirty look at Isaac, who was still cowering.

Cautiously, Henry took the ink. “Thanks, but…what does that mean?”

The Apprentice chuckled. “I’ll explain it all; don’t worry. But right now, I believe there’s some unnecessary plot twists that need to be straightened.

“Right!” Henry felt around his pockets for—something, but came up empty. “Crap, I don’t have any paper.”

“Over here!” Belle called out from an open window in the library, her face taking up most of it. “Henry—here!” A few pieces of paper looked no bigger than a Post-it in her fingers as she reached through the window. Henry ran over and grabbed it, but wasn’t sure what to do when he returned.

“I can help you with this first one,” the Apprentice offered. “Start with the ink.”

A few people chuckled as Henry struggled with getting ink from the bottle to the quill tip, Killian included; assholes—ballpoint pens were invented for a reason.

“Now, you’re not supposed to change or influence things, but undoing an abuse of power like this—that’s okay. Try writing…this: ‘those whose physical forms had been affected by the previous author’s changes that night were reverted back to their original forms.’”

“To…their…original…forms,” Henry repeated, writing the words, then ended it with a forceful period. No sooner had the pen left the paper than a burst of magic rippled through the crowd.

Emma curled in on herself as what had been done was undone; she’d been too distracted when Isaac first came after her to really pay attention to the magic happening, but now that it was being reversed—ugh, it’s like my feathers are being plucked. (She wished she’d been standing closer to Killian so she could lean on him, but he’s probably going through something similar.)

Thankfully, it didn’t last long. Once the odd sensation passed, she stood up straight, rolled her shoulders back, and stretched her arms—just arms once more—above her head. “Thank frick,” she sighed.

Behind her, her parents laughed; she turned to see that they were back to normal (and Neal was clamoring for David). All around, everyone was standing and stretching as they shook off the effects of what they’d just been through. Regina was hugging Henry tightly in the middle of it all.

To little surprise, Granny and Ruby were still fierce, and were dragging Isaac in the direction of the cells below the hospital. Well, he’s still gonna be a headache—but one that could wait a day or so.

Across the way, Killian was talking to a normal-sized Belle while standing in a puddle; his skin was back to its normal pallor and the gills were gone. (His beard and chest hair had also returned, thank the gods.)

He caught her gaze and appeared to excuse himself from Belle, then headed her way. “That looks better, Swan.”

“Not literally, thankfully,” she quipped back. “You look much improved yourself,” she added, resting her hands on his chest.

“Certainly feel more like myself,” he answered. “Although—I’m not generally this exposed around so many people.” He was only wearing his usual swimming briefs—and a blush that was creeping up his cheeks.

“Mm, then perhaps we should find somewhere private to be half naked.”

“I like the way you think, love.”

“Too bad I can’t fly us away anymore, though.”

He hummed, then pulled his hand between them, where a white feather was twirling in his fingers. “Maybe you can channel that?”

She giggled, and transported them back to his ship. Placing a kiss against his (scruffy) cheek, she grabbed his hand (finally!) and pulled him toward the stairs. “Let’s get to what we were going to do earlier.”

“Gladly,” he sighed, and followed her to his cabin…

…where they promptly fell asleep. (But got to the fun stuff the next morning.)

Cryptid Night, as it came to be known, went down in Storybrooke legend; and thankfully, no one experienced any long-lasting effects. (Well, other than David complaining about finding fur around the loft for a few weeks after.)

Emma did notice, though, that the pure white feather Killian had picked up was displayed prominently on a shelf in his cabin. As much as she never wished to relive that night, she always smiled when she saw it—and was glad Henry had taken plenty of pictures.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thanks for reading! tagging some mermates: @cocohook38 @kat2609 @mryddinwilt @xpumpkindumplingx @optomisticgirl @shipsxahoy @clockadile @kmomof4 @initiala @snowbellewells @word-bug @idristardis @wingedlioness @theonceoverthinker @annytecture and I can’t remember who else was into this

#cs ff #cs halloween #mermaid!killian #a tall tail #my ff

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bluekat12345 · 10 days

Text

He's my son, not yours! Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Another shoutout to @gelu-the-babosa-multiversal. Hope you all enjoy! Sorry again for taking so long. Life is busy.

"Chief, are you unwell?" Chase asked, pulling Charlie from his thoughts.

"Huh? What was that, Chase?" Charlie asked.

"Sir, you have been acting unusual all day." Chase commented. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Charlie gave a weak smile at his partner. "No, I promise. Just have a lot on my mind."

"Well, we have finished our nightly patrol." Chase announced as they drove to the Firehouse.

"Already?" Chief asked. "Time flew by fast." Once they were inside the Firehouse, he got out of the driver's seat. "Think I'm gonna call it a night. See you in the morning, partner."

"Have a pleasant rest, Chief Burns." Chase said as he transformers and went to the base.

Once he was away from the police-bot, Charlie allowed himself to stop smiling. Since the incident this afternoon, he's been in a negative mood. He knew he was being ridiculous, but what that woman said had gotten him.

While being called 'grandpa' was a hit to his ego, (he knew he wasn't a young man, but he wouldn't consider himself that old.) It was wait she said about Captain Rogers and Cody that really got under his skin. And seeing Captain Rogers with Cody and Cody practically showing his adoration for the war hero for the whole world to see only added salt to that wound.

And Tony's words kept echoing faintly in his head. "If you're not careful, Cap could take your place as Cody's dad."

He just wanted to go to his bed and try to forget about this afternoon. Hopeful a good sleep would help him realize how stupid this entire thing was. But as he got closer to the kitchen, he overheard Dani speak.

"And then that hag called dad 'grandpa'!" He heard her say. He felt a knot form his stomach.

"Does she have to tell everyone about that?" He thought. He knew she meant no harm, but it still made him uncomfortable.

"Who does that lady think she is?!" Kade asked, sounding outraged.

"That's how I felt!" Dani exclaimed. Then Charlie heard her take a deep breath, then she spoke in a calmer tone. "Though we did see Captain America again. He was waiting with Cody, the lady thought he was Cody's dad."

"Well, I guess that kind of makes sense why she would think Captain Rogers was Cody's dad." He heard Graham comment.

Then Kade spoke up. "Yeah, I'm their both blonds, they dress alike, at least when Captain America isn't wearing his costume."

"And they do have a lot in common, when you think about it." Charlie heard Graham add. "They both have that boy-scout attitude, they're both rather old-fashioned, and even have some of the same interests."

Chief stood still as the knot in his stomach seemed to grow and expand to his whole body. "Even my own kids think Captain America could be more like a father to Cody than me?" He felt his blood burn a bit.

Not wanting to hear anymore, he marched into the kitchen, startling the three.

"Dad! Hey, uh, welcome back." Dani awkwardly. "How was-"

"Have any of you seen Cody?" Chief Burns asked, sounding rather snappy. "I need to talk to him."

"He's the bots." Kade replied.

"Thanks." He replied, curtly. "I'm gonna see him and then I'm gonna call it a night." Then he walked away, not giving his three older kids a chance to say anymore.

"Has he been that moody all day?" Kade asked.

"Cut him slack, Kade." Dani scolded. "I just told you what happened."

"Yeah, just didn't think he'd still be upset about it." Kade declared.

Graham frowned. "This isn't just because of the 'grandpa' thing, is it?"

Dani frowned. "He hasn't officially said anything, but I figure Captain Rogers being confused as Cody's dad got to him more than the grandpa thing."

"What makes you think that?" Graham asked. "He's never seemed to mind Captain Rogers behaving like that towards Cody before."

"And its not like Captain Rogers is trying to replace Dad." Kade added.

Then Dani said. "Still, I think Dad might be a bit jealous. Or at least thinks Cody would rather have Captain Rogers as a dad instead of him."

"That ridiculous." Kade declared. "Cody would never do that. He loves Dad, he's his hero."

"What did Cody say about this?" Graham asked. "He wouldn't let Dad feel like that."

"I didn't tell him." Dani admitted. "I didn't want him to feel bad and things were already tense, I didn't want to risk making it worse. Hopefully, when Dad goes to see him, he'll be able to make him feel better, even if he doesn't understand why Dad's upset."

"Yeah, like Kade said, Dad is Cody's hero." Graham said. "He wouldn't want anyone else as a father, not even a superhero."

"I shouldn't have snapped at them like that." Charlie thought as he went to the Rescue Bots' base.

He knew his kids meant no harm with what they were saying, he just didn't need to hear them so all that, especially after today. And why did Dani have to tell Kade and Graham about all that in the first place? And couldn't they at least pretend that they didn't think Captain America had more in common with his son than he, Cody's actual father, does?

"They could've at least not said it out loud." He thought bitterly.

Then he shook his head, trying to will away those thoughts. "That's not what they said." He tried to tell himself that, but the more he said it in his head, the less he believed it.

"I just need to talk to Cody." He decided. "A quick chat with him will clear all this up."

When he finally arrived at the base, he was about to ask where Cody was. But then he overheard another conversation.

"And then Captain Rogers said he'd take for a ride on his motorcycle sometime." He heard Cody announce. "I hope Dad lets me. Since Captain Rogers let me help work on it, I wanna see what it feels like to actually ride it.

"Of course, Cody's talking about him." Charlie thought in frustration. "It seems to be all he ever talks about since he met the man."

"I still do not understand your admiration for Captain Rogers." He heard Chase declare. "I understand he is a respected soldier, but I thought the law does not approve of vigilante justice."

"Well, he works for the government, at least part of it." Cody replied. "So I guess that makes it okay for them and the rest of the Avengers."

Then he heard Chase hear. "Well, they could at least give them proper identifications as government associates or uniforms."

Then Cody chuckled. "What's wrong with their hero outfits? Their cool. Especially Captain America's! And that shield? So noble!"

"You seem to really like Captain America." Boulder noticed.

"Of course, I do." Cody announced with confidence. "Captain America is my hero!"

Charlie felt something inside him shatter at Cody's declaration. Hearing his son call someone else his hero shouldn't hurt so much, but it did. It felt like someone took glass shards and pierced them directly into his heart. He felt his eyes water up a bit, but refused to cry.

Not wanting to hear anymore, he charged out of the base, and decided to just go straight to his room. He didn't have the strength to deal with this anymore.

"I thought Chief was your hero." Blade asked in a worried tone.

"He is." Cody assured. "But Captain America is my hero, too. They're both my heroes, but Dad will always be my number one hero."

Boulder smiled at Cody. "That's sweet. Oh, did you show him the plate you made for him?"

"Not yet." Cody replied with a small frown. "I've been trying to, but something seems to happen and he doesn't have time to."

Then Chase spoke up. "I have noticed him behaving rather oddly today. He seemed to be rather unfocused today, a bit lethargic, and

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Chief is made of tough stuff." Heatwave commented. "I'm sure after a good night's sleep, he'll be in a better mood, and you'll get a chance to show him his gift in the morning."

Cody smiled. "You're right! I can show him the plate during breakfast. Maybe he can even use it then."

Once he was in his room and out of his uniform, Charlie gracelessly plopped onto his bed and let out a depressed sigh.

"Of course, Cody would want Captain America for a Dad instead of me." He miserably thought.

You'd have to be absolutely crazy not to want to have a superhero for a father. Captain America was part of the Avengers, one of the biggest superhero teams known. And the man was a war hero! Even if he wasn't a superhero, he still was respected military man that could still be considered amazing.

But it wasn't just that. As much as he hated to admit it, but the more he thought about, the more he had to admit that they did have more in common than he and Cody did. They were both blond, for Pete's sake!

But what made him feel worse, was that if he wanted, Captain Rogers really could take his place as Cody's father if he wanted. As mentioned before, he and Cody had so much in common, much more than he himself had with Cody. So, Cody probably thought it would be easier to talk to Captain Rogers since they had so much in common.

And the biggest thing was that Captain Rogers was younger than him. Chronologically, he was old, but biologically, Captain Rogers was a young man. No wonder that woman thought he was Cody father's, since he was closer to the expected age of a father to a ten-year-old than Charlie was.

And with youth, came energy. Having three grown kids already, as well having been chief of police in Griffin Rock for so long, had worn him out, and while he tried, he admit he didn't always have the time or energy to give Cody the attention he needs and deserves. Cody had always been brave and mature about it, but Charlie could tell it affected him more than Cody dared to admit, not wanting to upset his family.

With Captain Rogers, he still had the energy of a young man, he had the energy to keep up with Cody. And since coming to Griffin Rock, while he was here for a mission, he still managed to make time for Cody, being able to give him plenty of attention, more in the short time here than Charlie had given him his entire life.

As he continued to dwell on these thoughts, the more depressed he seemed to get. In the last desperate attempt to get his mind off all of this, he decided to finally go to sleep. Hoping sleep would allow him to finally relax and recover from all of this.

But sleep never seemed to come to him that night. But those unwanted thoughts and feelings seemed to linger the entire night.

I think this is the biggest thing I've written in a long time. This is a series of misunderstandings, miscommunication, and insecurity on Charlie's part. And not the end of it either...

If any of you have questions or comments, feel free to speak up!

#He's my son not yours #my writing #TFRB x AEMH #Transformers #Avengers #Rescue Bots #Avengers Earth's Mightiest Heroes #Transformers Rescue Bots #TFRB #AEMH #crossover

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cosmereplay · 2 months

Text

Day 18: Once upon a time

Rated Teen, transfem!Kaladin/Leshwi, Rhythm of War spoilers Part 3/4. Start at part 1 on ao3

Leshwi hummed to Peace as she watched the sky for Kaladin. It was good to hear the ancient Rhythms again, and she thought briefly of Riah, who loved Peace for its even, stately beat. It soothed Leshwi’s heart to be able to attune it again.

She took a breath of post-sunset air. The sky was almost completely black, dotted with limitless stars, and the breeze was soft and cool, easing the humidity of the Shattered Plains. Usually it would be her turn to visit Kaladin at Urithiru, but he’d insisted on coming to her.

She hoped that was a good sign.

Soon, she spotted a glowing speck in the distance, which began to resolve into a figure in blue and white, tails of cloth streaming behind him. Leshwi hummed to Amusement, thinking his fashion looked a bit familiar.

…Or was it her fashion? Leshwi caught the subtle curve of breasts as Kaladin got closer; like a nimbleform femalen. Leshwi attuned Consideration–were humans capable of changing forms now?

She…he?...landed in a flourish, Stormlight glowing through the fabric of his dress. Up close, it was more obvious. It was a dress, cut in a similar style to fashion Leshwi was accustomed to, though the wide swaths of fabric were interwoven at the front rather than wrapped, and his left hand was covered by a long, elegant white glove up to his elbow. He drew the ends of the tails to one hand with a Windrunner's lashing, then tucked them into his wide waistband, leaving the loops overlapping and hanging like a skirt. He stepped towards Leshwi, still glowing faintly, with a confused look on his face.

“Why aren’t you flying?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Leshwi said, humming to Reconciliation. “Tell me, what is the occasion for this work of beauty? You look…exquisite.” She gestured to the dress, then upwards. Kaladin was wearing makeup, and his hair was braided.

Kaladin smiled broadly. “I wanted to tell you in person,” he said, and she noticed his voice had grown softer, though it was still deep and rich. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, what you asked me. And I want to say yes. I want to court you, if you’ll have me. But I need to tell you something first…”

***

They joined a late night fire and sat together. Though they stood out sorely, the other listeners offered them drinks then politely ignored them, continuing their own conversations. As Kaladi explained her recent changes, Leshwi came to understand that humans could change forms, in a way.

“Once upon a time,” Kaladi began, “I wanted to be a little girl. I was a little girl, I suppose. I wanted to learn to read, but I also wanted to climb and explore and fight.” She held her gloved hand in front of her. “I was torn between wanting to follow my parents’ footsteps and becoming a surgeon. I thought that maybe if I learned medicine, I could learn how to become a woman.”

Kaladi held out her ungloved hand. “But I was also good with the spear. Really good. It just felt right. I thought I would never be able to fight if I was a woman. I thought, if I wanted to fight, maybe I wasn’t really a woman.” Her hand closed into a fist.

Leshwi hummed to Resolve.

The fire crackled; the conversations around them hummed in interweaving harmonies. Kaladi’s eyes reflected the dancing lights.

“When Tien was taken, I buried those thoughts. I was needed as a soldier, and to be a soldier I had to learn to be a man.” She looked into the fire and sighed.

Leshwi reached out her hand, caressing Kaladi’s shoulder. “You knew no other way,” she said to Resolve.

“I didn’t think of it again until I met you. Leshwi...I don’t even know how to say how much I admire you. What it means to me that you exist, just as you are.”

Kaladi raised her eyes. She reached out her ungloved hand, taking Leshwi’s hand in her own, and Leshwi attuned Anticipation.

“Now that you know everything, do you still want to court me?” Kaladi asked.

Leshwi hummed Praise. “I do still wish to court you,” she said. “The path ahead of us will not be easy. We will exist among those who hate us for joining together. This would be true whether you were Kaladin or Kaladi.”

She took a moment to hold Kaladi’s hand, then leaned down and kissed it. “Kaladi,” she said to Praise, “meeting you has changed my life. You gave me hope when I thought I was lost. Knowing your deepest heart is a true honour. I am overjoyed to know you.”

She snuck closer beside Kaladi until their hips touched, and Leshwi wrapped an arm around Kaladi’s waist. Kaladi rested her gloved hand on Leshwi's shoulder. In the firelight, Kaladi’s eyes shimmered. Her smile glowed more beautifully than any light Leshwi had ever known.

For a moment, she attuned the Lost, and Kaladi’s brow furrowed.

“Tell me, Leshwi. Why weren’t you floating when you met me today?” Kaladi asked suddenly.

Leshwi met her eyes sadly. “I finally ran out of voidlight. I will not be flying again.”

“But you need to fly.”

“It’s worth it.”

“But Leshwi–”

“It’s worth it,” Leshwi said to Pain. “Being free, being myself, knowing you–it’s worth it, even if I never fly again.”

Kaladi pulled her close, then, their foreheads touching. Together, they found Peace again, and sang.

#minifemslashfeb2024 #cosmere femslash february #kaleshwi #transfem Kaladin/Leshwi #transfem kaladin #leshwi stormlight #rhythm of war #row spoilers #stormlight fanfic #my fic

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knickynoo · 25 days

Note

Do you have any of your own headcanons of what happened to Alex (also maybe Mallory and Jennifer) in the years after moving out of the Keaton household?

Hello! Sorry this is being answered so late, anon. Here are some headcanons!

ALEX

• Like most Family Ties fans, I headcanon that Alex and Ellen eventually find their way back to each other. They simply have to. Ellen changed Alex, and even though he does attempt to "move on", I don't think that deep love for her ever leaves him. Plus, he's single at the end of the series! I like to believe he stays that way for a while, moves to NY to settle into his new job and life and such. Eventually, Ellen returns from Paris and reaches out to the Keatons for info on how to contact Alex. Because even though she likely dated other guys after him, she too realizes that she can't shake her love for him. They meet up, and maybe it's awkward at first, but they soon rekindle what they hand.

• Alex does end up quite successful, but it's not the type of success he grew up imagining for himself. No giant mansion, immense power, or people falling over themselves to do whatever he says. He isn't fabulously wealthy or anywhere close to his dreams of world domination. But he gets married to Ellen, and he has a job he enjoys, and he's really good at it. He's fulfilled. Happy.

• I also like to think he matures a good deal and becomes someone his coworkers and acquaintances genuinely like to be around, rather than the "not this guy again." Perhaps something happens in his first few weeks on the job to take his ego down a couple of notches. Then, being back with Ellen helps even further, as she always had a way of being able to smooth his rough edges and bring out the kinder side of him.

• Alex stays in very frequent touch with his family and visits them often. He's on the phone with at least one family member every day, and they take trips to see him a lot as well.

• For some Alex and Ellen as parents headcanons, see this post I had made a while back

MALLORY

• Of course, Mal and Nick end up married. Art is still a big part of Nick's life, and he either finds a way to earn a living off of it or finds another job he enjoys while still doing art on the side. Mallory pursues fashion, and she finds a lot of happiness and success there. There's an episode where she talks about eventually wanting to end up in NY as well, so let's go ahead and say that happens.

• LOL, Mallory and Alex cannot get away from each other even if they tried. Which, honestly, they don't want to. Despite their constant squabbling and Alex's relentless teasing, those two love each other much more than they'd like to admit. Both being in NY gives them lots of opportunities to meet up often, and they find themselves growing closer. Alex becomes genuinely invested in Mallory's career and loves hearing how happy she is. Although he isn't too interested in the latest news from the fashion world, he jumps at every chance to give her advice to help her advance her career or spread the news about her designs.

• Despite her insistence in the "Read it and Weep" episodes that she can't test out her clothing designs on Alex because he "has a weird body," she does frequently use him as a model for some of the men's clothing. He grumbles and complains every second of it but never turns her down. He tests out the more formal wear and Nick tests out the more casual designs.

• I don't have fully formed thoughts on Mal as a mother, but I do think she and Nick end up with a handful of kids. (Nick is shown to be amazing with kids, and he would be thrilled to find out he's going to be a dad.) Oh, Mallory would be such a wonderful mom—every bit as warm and loving as Elyse. Her children would always be the best dressed no matter where they went.

• I personally think it would be hysterical if Mallory ends up with a child who likes to dress formally at all times and is obsessed with facts and figures and acts like a tiny adult from the time they can talk. She goes to Alex like, "Is this your influence??!" (It may or may not be. I also think it's funny if the Keatons just have a gene that produces a strange little businessman child at random)

• Mallory and Ellen spend a lot of time together and are best friends. Naturally, Alex and Nick also spend a lot of time together. Nick is thrilled to get to see his "little friend" so often.

JENNIFER

• Jen definitely takes after her parents the most out of the Keaton kids, so I think she goes into some type of activism or charity work. I can see her being involved in an organization that helps animals or the environment.

• I can't decide if she stays close to home or becomes the type who's always traveling all over the place. If it's the latter, it becomes a running joke in the family to play "Where in the World is Jennifer Keaton?" because none of them ever know what she's up to, and so they're always trying to piece clues together or come up with wild scenarios to explain her whereabouts.

• Jen stays single for a long while (or maybe doesn't even marry) and just sort of does her own thing. She pops by to visit her siblings in NY frequently and enjoys catching up with them, getting fashion news (and some new clothing) from Mallory and talking business with Alex.

Thanks for the ask!

#family ties #alex p keaton #apk #mallory keaton #jennifer keaton #ellen reed #nick moore #asks

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galacticnova3 · 3 months

Note

this is your free invitation to post a headcanon of your choice

I think this might count as multiple headcanons but they’re all connected by the same base topic and I’m not just deleting all of this so! Funny rat’s magic stick time

The Triple Star is the same kind of weapon/being as Galaxia, but rather than more or less pure offense, she’s intended to play a role of mixed attack and support in a group. Unlike Galaxia her standards for worthiness aren’t ridiculously strict, and she’s much less direct about someone not being fit to wield her. Which is to say instead of basically attacking such a person they simply wouldn’t ever talk to them or make their power known. As a result she spent a lot of time being moved from place to place— far longer than she was ever left in her pedestal for any length of time. For a while nobody really knew exactly what or who she was, most folks just thought “Wow! Gold cane/staff/scepter/stick with a block on it!”, and that was really the main reason she didn’t completely fall into obscurity. People like to own valuable things, after all. That’s also how the Squeak Squad eventually caught wind of them— not as a sacred artifact but as a very valuable gold cane some rich person obtained for a large sum.

Daroach actually didn’t know any different until he stole her in the eventual heist and suddenly there was a new voice in his head going on and on about Oh my STARS, FINALLY SOMEONE CAPABLE WHO ISN’T PURELY MOTIVATED BY GREED AND SELF-INTEREST, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO FIND ME WHO MIGHT ACTUALLY STRIVE TOWARD THE GREATER GOOD OF OTHERS, I MEAN SERIOUSLY IT’S LIKE EVERYONE JUST FORGOT I USED TO BE CONSIDERED THE IMMORTAL VESSEL OF A PARAGON OF UNITY AND SELFLESSNESS AND NOT JUST A FANCY GOLD STICK THAT CAN BE SOLD FOR A LOT OR STOLEN AND THEN SOLD FOR A LOT, IF I END UP IN SOME DISPLAY CASE OR VAULT OR WHATEVER AGAIN I MIGHT ACTUALLY LOSE IT, anyways greetings I am the Triple Star, you have been deemed worthy to be my wielder and it is your sacred duty to utilize me for the protection of those around you, no pressure or anything though I’m not impossibly strict or anything, if you have any questions I can answer them as you think of them if you want, no this isn’t a dream, no this isn’t a hallucination, no you’re not losing your mind, ok is a magic staff forming a telepathic connection with you REALLY that unbelievable to- no I do not usually talk this much these are just very special circumstances at the moment, and I am just very- WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT SOUNDS LIKE I’VE JUST BEEN BEAMING A RUN-ON SENTENCE DIRECTLY INTO YOUR HEAD, DO YOU EXPECT ME TO STOP AND CATCH MY BREATH WHEN I DON’T EVEN BREATHE TO BEGIN WITH, HONESTLY THIS IS A HUGE HONOR CAN YOU WAIT UNTIL YOU AREN’T MAKING YOUR GETAWAY TO QUESTION IT, actually that would probably also be a good time for you to figure out the magic I granted you- WHAT DO YOU MEAN “WHAT MAGIC” IS IT REALLY THAT SUBTLE

Basically imagine Meta Knight and Galaxia but like 5% more dysfunctional, 10% more likely to argue with each other, and 40% more likely to be complicit in a crime if said crime is for The Greater Good™️ in some fashion. She likes the other Squeaks, but doesn’t talk to them directly because she’s not supposed to. However there’s nothing stopping her from having Daroach do the actual talking for her and this is something she’s happy to take advantage of. She did/does speak more directly with Kirby in situations where they’re wielding her, and the two get along, but she’s far closer with Daroach by virtue of knowing him better and whatnot. In general they are a lot more talkative than Galaxia, wanting to be a more active presence rather than just a guide or advisor in the background. If they were to get to know one another, they’d be civil and not necessarily dislike one another, but Galaxia would think they’re too lenient and borderline irresponsible when it comes to fulfilling their purpose, while Triple Star would think she’s too serious and more passive than a sacred sword ought to be.

Also, Triple Star says eat the rich, and that has nothing to do with decades spent being stolen and bought and sold and hidden and stolen and sold again by a bunch of people with hearts that make crude oil look as pure as spring water.

#asks #rambling #my headcanons

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maladaptive-jcb · 9 months

Text

Chapter 3: A Taste of Intrigue

Jamie x female!reader fanfic

(fluff, safe for under 18)

Click here for chapter 2 if you missed it.

Summary: Reader is an independent artist who lives on her own in a small town and meets Jamie, a musician, in an art studio where their budding relationship formed through shared interests of different forms of art.

Warning: There will be talks about trauma and PTSD from domestic abuse and dissociative episodes throughout the story.

“Shit, Jamie. This is a fancy place I thought it was just a small restaurant! I am not dressed for this!” I nervously adjust my denim jacket covering my casual white dress that has a little paint stain on it.

There's no way he actually brought me here. I've heard people talk amazing things about this place. Heck, celebrities were seen dining in this very restaurant. Even with the place blasted with air-conditioner, I still feel beads of sweat forming on my back and my palms where I'm discreetly trying to wipe off on my dress. I'm sure no one is looking at me but I can't help but to telepathically apologize to everyone for the way I look. I promise I can look better than this. I'm so sorry everyone, please give me a chance. Yet, everyone just keeps eating and talking to each other mindlessly.

“Stop it. You’re beautiful,” he touches my shoulder to reassure me. His fingers graze on my hand as he lowers his and sends my feet frozen in place. “You always are.”

Before I could say anything, he's already making his way to talk to the hostess. “Jamie Bower reservation, table for two?”

“Yes, sir. Right this way,” the beautiful hostess ushers us to the table, admiring the man in front of her. He really has a certain allure that draws people's attention. Whether it's the way he's dressed, his charisma or confidence, I can't quite figure it out. Either way, the hostess' admiration is evident to them and it only draws my interest of the man behind that dazzling smile.

As we settle into our seats at the table, my mind buzzes with curiosity. Lots of questions are running through my head. He has a fancy car, great fashion sense, and now he's interested in a small town and a simple painting class. Why would someone like him even bothered to join something like that?

“Jamie, can I… can I ask you something?” I lean in to whisper.

His face turns serious, “What is it?”

“Are you… are you… rich?” I whisper in a hushed tone.

He starts laughing and clutching his chest. “No, darling I’m not. My parents are though. I'm just lucky enough to get to treat a friend tonight.”

I laugh in ease. “Well, how sweet of you. Alright, next time you’re paying for my coffee instead.”

“No, I’m paying for dinner,” as he grabs his menu to his chest and gives that sickeningly sweet grin again.

"Well, if you insist," I return the smile to him.

Everything feels so much more at ease with our playful banter. Jamie really has a way of lightening up the mood. However, a sudden realization dawns upon me.

That cliché notion of a man paying for dinner makes me wonder if there's a romantic interest behind it. Although, Adrian did pay for our dinner one time after closing the bookstore and it was definitely not a date. I find myself overanalyzing the situation and questioning Jamie's intention behind this. Should I assume it's a date? What if I'm misinterpreting everything? I mean, would it be so bad if it is?

Before letting the excitement bubbling up to my chest, I shut it down immediately. I shouldn't get ahead of myself.

I face towards him again. He's tapping his fingers on his chin now, scanning the menu and still trying to decide what to get. He doesn't seem to notice my train of thoughts.

“Thanks for bringing me here. I didn’t expect our random café meet up would bring me to this place. It’s nice," breaking our moment of silence. I'm still finding myself looking around the beautiful restaurant once again. It has an overlooking view of the radiant sunset in the ocean.

“My pleasure,” his hand closer to mine on the table. His long slender fingers brush against mine. Every little touch from him sends an electric shock down my spine.

“You know, you were about to leave immediately. I was trying to find a way to make you stay,” he slowly sips on the wine poured for us. “I could really use a friend and I'd love to get to know you more," he adds on.

Friend. The word flutters in my chest as I wonder if it's just a friendly gesture or there's more to it beneath the surface. I quickly shake the thoughts away and casually pulls my hand to fix my hair and hoping he doesn't notice my nervous gesture.

The waiter finally comes to take our orders. My appetite goes for the ravioli while Jamie goes for the Chicken Parmigiana. Jamie raises his eyebrows excitingly at me while his hand rubbing on his stomach. I let out a small giggle.

"You know, I've heard so much about this restaurant. I've always wanted to try this place," I say, feeling more at ease as we continue our lighthearted banter.

"Oh, you're in for a treat," Jamie replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

____

“Okay, come here you need to try this,” he gets some of his chicken to his fork and lifts it up towards me.

“No, Jamie. Don’t be silly,” I shake my head and laughs at his demeanor.

“Ah, ah- I’m not gonna stop until you try it. Come on.” He’s still trying to get me to open my mouth.

“Jamie, I don’t think-“

“Oh come on, y/n. Come on, come on, come on-“ he pleads, lips pouting now.

“Alright! Alright! You silly bean,” I take a bite immediately. He smiles in triumph and waits for a reaction.

My eyes widen. He's right. It is good.

“Uh huh. What did I tell you??” his hand gesturing himself knowing he’s right.

“Woah, what did they put in this food??” I swallow after the burst of different flavors in my taste buds.

“I’m telling you! You need to trust me more a little, y/n.” His fork now playfully swinging at me.

The playful banter continues, but beneath the surface, curiosity still creeps into my head. Can I trust him? It's true that we spend time together in class and have shared some connections, but there's a part of him that remains a mystery.

In class, Jamie is often quiet and reserved. Yet, in our interactions outside of class, he's charming, attentive, and full of life. I can't help but wonder which version of him is the real one.

“What, you’re not gonna let me taste yours too?”

I jump a little.

“My…” and I notice his glances shifted from my eyes and towards my plate.

“MY FOOD,” I exclaim a little too loud. “Here if you want it soooo bad,” I tease him and pushes my plate a little closer to him. Jamie’s eyebrows furrow and squints at me.

“Not like that, darling.” He closes his eyes and opens his mouth.

I can feel my cheeks are getting warm again. A little grateful that his eyes are closed as my blood are rushing quickly towards my face. I pick up some of my ravioli on the fork on one hand and another under his chin to avoid making a mess.

“Oh yes, that’s amazing." His face making an exaggerated satisfied look. "Tastes about the same as the first five times I’ve had it here,” he adds, trying to contain his laughter this time.

“For goodness sake, Jamie!!!” my hand on my forehead now, covering myself in embarrassment.

He finally lets out a laugh. “Aw come on, y/n. You know I can’t help myself," he pulls my arm away from my face gently. His fingers feel warm on my bare skin under the cold air of the restaurant.

We spend the rest of the dinner sharing more stuff about each other. Jamie eventually opens up about the passion that he has in music. He looks so animated and full of joy from talking about songwriting, singing, playing the guitar to playing the piano. He even talks about a few music he puts out with his old band which was basically his younger brother, Sam and a few other friends.

"I'd love for you to listen to my stuff whenever you get the chance to," still talking in excitement. I nod in agreement.

He reels me in even deeper into who he is. Jamie's artistic heart runs deep, and it's not limited to just painting. His passion for music is evident in the way his face lights up and his whole demeanor changes when he describes it. It's like a different side of him emerges, in a good way. As much as he likes painting, he still feels like he has to constantly work to be good whereas with music, Jamie seems to have a natural talent that comes effortlessly.

He's not just a quiet guy that I thought I knew. He's so multifaceted with depths that I'm only starting to discover and I'm excited for it.

After we continue the night with more funny stories from class, we finally realize how late it is. Time really does fly when you're having a good time.

_____

Chapter 4

Woo! You're finally getting to know Jamie a little better after wondering about him for a while. How will the dinner end for you guys? Can this friendship turn into something more or is one of you guys still aren't ready for that? What do you think? Let me know :)

#jamie bower fanfic #jamie x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell x reader #jamie x female reader #jcb #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #vecna #jamie x y/n #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x y/n #jamie bower x female reader #jamie campbell bower x female reader #fanfic fluff #romance #artist #musician #jamie campbell bower x reader fluff

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tedturneriscrazy · 1 year

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If anyone following me remembers, I have written a few stories involving Kite Nye and Sabrina, two OCs from @nikkydash. And you may also remember my ongoing story with these two, Date Night, which currently has two chapters.

Well, today I present to you, not chapter 3, but a standalone story based on an idea I've had kicking around in my head for a long time. This one features mostly just Sabrina, and I tackle something new in my writing: horror!

I had hoped to get this out closer around Nikky's birthday, but better late than never, I suppose.

Anyways, enjoy!

Sabrina's Nightmare

Sabrina had no idea what the fuck was going on, and she didn’t like it one bit.

She stood in the doorway of the entrance of what seemed to be an abandoned building, the door being nowhere in sight. She tried looking back into the building, but was met only with inky blackness. She felt around her pants pockets for her phone, but could not find it. Instead, bringing her hands back out, she realized that she was holding a cheap lighter in her right hand, the color of which could not be distinguished in the dim light. She tried igniting the lighter, but all it could manage was a few weak sparks, refusing to give her a steady flame.

Feeling unease growing in the pit of her stomach, Sabrina slipped the lighter back into her pocket and looked out toward the surrounding environment, which appeared to be a sandy beach right next to the ocean. From this distance, the sand on the beach seemed oddly…pristine, with not a single sign of life or so much as a rock, though the sand did form a few small dunes which dotted the length of the beach. Waves crashed onto the shore with mild force and steady regularity, mimicking the labored breathing of someone with emphysema. Looking to the sky revealed that it was nighttime, the weak glow of the moon obscured by considerable cloud cover. Looking to her right, she was able to make out the faint, blurry silhouette of what appeared to be a city, shrouded in a mix of low light and thick fog. The night air was calm but bitterly cold, and Sabrina could easily see her breath.

A lot of it, in fact.

It was at this point that Sabrina realized that, for some reason, she was panting and her heart was pounding, as if she had been running furiously just moments before. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she would have been running. Was she trying to catch someone? Unlikely. Sabrina figured she’d remember giving chase to someone, probably because they owed her money. Since it was also unlikely that she was running on a cold night wearing decidedly not-workout-appropriate clothing for her health, it had to be that she was running from someone or something. But who? Or what?

The cops? Nah. There would have been either the flashing red and blue lights of their cars or white beams from flashlights, and there was only the moon’s meager pallor. Gangsters? Also probably not the case. Getting fake married to Kite had caused that one to back off for the most part, and Sabrina had surprisingly managed to be a good girl and avoid pissing off any others lately. She mentally flipped through her list of enemies, rivals, and various other people whose feathers she had ruffled in the past, but nothing was ringing any bells. Baffling.

There was also a nagging feeling that she had been with someone and ended up separating from them. But who would it have been? Kite? Day? A friend from work? An ex? Briefly she thought of Colton Chadwick and immediately pushed him out of her mind. While she had no doubt he would have bolted as soon as things started going south, the way they had broken up had kinda sorta resulted in him being run out of town in humiliating fashion, never to be seen again. So, probably not him.

Continuing to mull over her situation, Sabrina began to walk toward the beach, the only logical place there seemed to go. Whatever need there was to run had apparently passed, which was good because she could already feel the burn of having done so for a while. As the rush subsided and her heart rate lowered, she started to feel the sting of the chilly night air and shivered a little. God, she hated the cold. Why didn’t she have a jacket? It seemed weird that she would go anywhere in such weather without one. She couldn’t figure out if she had merely forgotten it or if she had left it behind in haste to get away from…whatever it was she was supposedly getting away from.

There were so many details that Sabrina was missing here. This sort of thing happened whenever she got particularly wasted or high, yet she felt stone cold sober and uncomfortably alert. In fact, for whatever reason, she was very much on edge, her fight-or-flight response feeling like it was on a hair trigger. Either she was going to fuck up the first poor hapless motherfucker who snuck up on her, or she was gonna book it out of there so fast Usain Bolt would be envious.

Okay, Sabrina, she thought to herself. It’s time to calm down a little.

With that, she took a deep breath in, then counted to four in her head, and then let a ragged breath out in a thick white plume, counting to four again. After repeating this several times, Sabrina was able to…maybe not exactly calm down, but at least get into a better headspace than she was previously.

Thanks, BJ, she thought offhandedly. I guess video games do teach you practical things, after all.

She continued making her way to the beach. After struggling through the sand for what felt like hours, which were almost certainly just minutes, she found herself atop one of the fun sized dunes and stopped, taking in the ocean’s waves. In more fun circumstances she might have taken off her shoes and made her way up to the shoreline, but as cold as the air was, the water would undoubtedly be freezing and manage to soak her feet to the bone. Once again she found her thoughts drifting, this time thinking that she should maybe take Kite on a moonlit beach walk sometime. Yeah, they’d eat that up for sure. They were a sucker for romantic shit like that.

Ugh, focus, dammit! This wasn’t the time!

Sabrina shook her head violently and gave her face a smack for good measure. She could plan romantic getaways with her fake spouse later, once she figured out this whole mess.

She looked around the beach now that she was properly on it. Back when Sabrina was a kid, she and Day had been “volunteered” by their parents to participate in a Saturday morning beach cleanup (come to think of it, they had to wake up so early in the morning it was just about as dark and cold as it was here and now). After hours of scouring the beach for garbage, the sand was still littered with various bits of detritus washed up from the ocean, and plenty of black specks dotted the lighter colored beige sand.

This beach, however, was quite different. Even up close, there only seemed to be pure white sand, unspoiled by a single piece of debris. Not so much as a broken fragment of shell, scrap of seaweed, or even a piece of trash left by careless beachgoers. It was as if it was devoid of life entirely, and could easily be mistaken for a desert were it not for the proximity of the ocean and the cloudy night sky. Looking in either direction, it also seemed to be as endless as it was lifeless, with no obvious endpoint on either horizon.

Not finding anything helpful along the beach, Sabrina turned her attention to the city. Obfuscated as it was by fog and darkness, it was everything she could do to even discern that there might be a city in that direction, not a single pinprick of light from a building managing to break through. Even so, for some reason looking at it filled her with deep dread, and as she considered the possibility of going toward it, her heart began to race, the dread swiftly turning into terror.

Now what prompted all this, then? While she still couldn’t think of any plausible answers, she had a feeling that, whatever she was running from, it probably came from the city, and/or claimed it as a home base.

At any rate, it was clear that Silent Hill was off-limits. Since standing around wasn’t accomplishing anything, and she wasn’t about to walk into the frigid sea into a watery grave, that left the choice of picking a direction on the beach and walking that way in the hopes of finding…something. Looking to her left and right, Sabrina finally decided to go left.

She walked along the beach for a while, once again struggling to move through the sand. It was unclear how much of it was the inherent difficulty of gaining a foothold in sand and how much was from being cold and exhausted, but this trek was proving to be a right pain in the ass. Sabrina considered moving closer to the shoreline, where the water mixed with the sand would undoubtedly provide more solid ground, but decided she didn’t want to risk getting hit with waves and possibly getting hypothermia. This moonlit walk on the beach was not turning out to be all it was cracked up to be.

As if all that wasn’t enough, an intense wind began to blow, which hit Sabrina with a full frontal assault and stopped her in her tracks. The lack of a jacket was proving to be particularly troublesome now, and as an added bonus it felt like knives were flying directly into her face, particularly digging into her eyes and nostrils. Sabrina raised her arms in front of her face to brace from the wind and what was surely the sand traveling along with it. However, she chanced a glance downward, and for all the ferocity of this wind, the sand wasn’t stirring at all. Just as she began to question this phenomenon, the wind suddenly stopped.

Well this was fucking unusual.

Granted, Sabrina was no stranger to magic and supernatural phenomena. After all, she had cavorted with undead mobsters and was currently (fake) married to a powerful magic user. Safe to say, she had, as the kids would say, seen some shit. But gale force winds that affect a person but not the surrounding environment? That was a new experience, she had to admit. Even the wildest magic she had seen tended to follow, y'know, physics.

However, as she continued to contemplate what had happened, a distant bell rang in her memory. She recalled a story that Kite had told her where they were on a trip to Ireland. They were visiting a castle that was alleged to be haunted, and they decided to have a bit of fun. They found a hiding place, waited for some tourists to pass by, then used their magic to pretend that the passage was inhabited by ghosts and banshees. The performance must have been quite convincing, because the tourists had fled in "abject pants-pissing terror" (Kite's words). Sabrina had laughed to the point of tears at this anecdote, and remembered thinking, Damn, I know how to pick em.

With this recollection, things were clicking into place, and for once she had an inkling of what could be happening. As this idea came to her, the wind began to blow again, this time at her back. It was only now that she realized that her hair was down, since the wind slapped it in her face. Once again, the sand remained unmoved, though as the wind passed through her ears, she heard something new: a faint voice(?) whispering, "...b r i n a…"

And just like that, the underlying unease and fear mostly melted away, replaced with exasperation and mild amusement. "Okay, very funny, Kite!" Sabrina called out. "You got me good! Come on out!"

As she stood triumphant, congratulating herself for figuring things out, the wind changed direction from behind her to coming in at her right. This time the voice was louder and more substantial: "S A B R I N A A A a a a a…"

"Yeah, I get it!" Sabrina shouted back. "Ooh, spooky ghosts and shit! But the jig is up! Come out and conjure up some fire, I'm turning into a fuckin' icicle over here!"

With this, the wind once again suddenly stopped. It wasn’t the only thing, however. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore had also been silenced. Sabrina chanced a look at the water, and saw that it had gone completely still, without so much as a ripple on the surface. Then it began to lighten in color and take on a more solid appearance, slowly at first, then rapidly spreading across and expanding, otherwise remaining still. Before long, the water had reached this state as far as she could see.

The goddamn ocean had frozen over.

“Okay, Kite, this isn’t funny anymore! Enough’s enough!” Sabrina shouted again, panic creeping into her voice and chest. By now she no longer truly believed this was Kite’s doing. Rather, she may have been clinging desperately to any shred of hope that it still might be the case.

Coming in to extinguish that bit of hope was what felt like a hand rest on her left shoulder behind her. Accompanying this was the coldest sensation Sabrina had ever felt, as if the hand was soaked in liquid nitrogen and dripping it all over. This cold sensation moved its way up to her ear, where she heard a voice…no, it wasn’t really a voice. It was as if the words had been spoken and she understood what was said, but there was no sound of a voice speaking them.

You have yet to experience true cold…

Sabrina immediately clenched her fist and spun around to deck whoever it was behind her. However, she only ended up punching thin air, as whoever (or whatever) was standing there was nowhere to be seen.

“Show yourself, asshole!” she screamed, “Enough of these bullshit magic tricks!”

Behind you…

Slowly Sabrina turned back around and finally saw, standing about fifty feet away, the source of the not-voice: a somewhat tall, thin figure, about six foot even, wearing a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. They appeared to be the color of the misty shroud draping the city, save for their face, which was a stark white. Sabrina could not discern any finer details about them; even their face was a blank canvas until they suddenly opened their eyes, which appeared to be the same color as their clothing and the city.

No, that wasn’t quite right. On closer inspection, the eyes, clothes, and mist weren’t simply the same color; it seemed like they were all the same substance. What was more, it seemed like there was continuity of pattern between all of these as the figure swayed in the currently nonexistent wind, like the visual effects of plaid in certain old cartoons where the outline of the characters or objects moved along while the plaid remained still in a background layer.

The feelings of terror and dread that Sabrina felt while contemplating going toward the city returned with greater intensity. Not only that, but the already-cold surroundings dropped even further in temperature, nowhere near the liquid nitrogen levels when the unknown entity grabbed her shoulder, but certainly Antarctic at the very least. Yet despite this, she found that she did not–could not, in fact–shiver in response. Aside from the jackhammering of her heartbeat and worryingly faint breath, she couldn’t move at all. It was as if the air had become so cold that she had, in fact, literally frozen in place.

But the worst part? All of this was familiar. Like she had experienced it before. Not that long ago, even.

Sabrina now remembered who she was running from.

And she was in deep shit.

Slowly, the figure began to advance toward Sabrina, the plaid effect becoming even more apparent as they did so. They were not walking so much as leisurely floating in her direction. Considering they had been right behind her only moments before, it was clear that this was not their top speed. For that matter, they were literally grabbing her then, so why all this? Was this thing enjoying fucking with her?

“Who are you? What are you? What do you want with me?!” Sabrina tried to say these things, but it seemed her vocal cords were frozen along with the rest of her body, because the words didn’t come out.

Right, probably should have expected that.

Succumb…

Succumb? What were they talking about?

Surrender…to the mists…

They were much closer now, and soon they would be within arm's reach in spite of their glacial pace. As if in anticipation, they stretched out their right hand. However, instead of motioning to grab Sabrina, they held their hand out, as if inviting her to take it.

C'mon, move, goddamnit! Sabrina thought to herself, trying to will her limbs to move. As thoroughly fucked as she seemed, she had no intention of surrendering to the mists at the behest of bootleg Slenderman. Do not go gentle into that good night and all that.

Yet her body remained stubbornly immobile. This was not ideal.

Just give in…it will be easier…and your suffering will end…

"Blow me, fuckface!"

To Sabrina's surprise (and perhaps the figure's), she could hear and feel these words forcefully escape her mouth. Not only that, but she found that she could move her arms again, and she could feel her legs itching to bolt. Wasting no time feeling out her newly regained mobility, she turned around and sprinted.

Despite the sand shifting under her feet, she was able to put some distance between herself and the figure. She chanced a look back, and saw that the figure began floating toward her again, hand still outstretched, though they apparently didn't see the need to up their speed to match Sabrina's. Rather than dwell on how unsettling this was, she chose instead to focus on what to do next to take advantage of this head start. Perhaps she could just get far enough ahead to lose them, or she could find a safe place to hide, or–

Or she could trip.

This was not one of the options she had considered, but it was the one she ended up taking. As she was running, her foot caught on something, and she ended up falling on her face. Fortunately she was able to close her eyes, though she still ended up with a mouthful of sand. She pushed herself up quickly, irritation building upon her already considerable fear, anxiety, and stress at the current situation. What had the fucking audacity to trip her up at a time like this?!

Sabrina looked down at her feet and saw the answer: a stray piece of driftwood, sticking out of the sand proudly. She was convinced that it wasn't there before, but this wasn't the time to think about that. Instead, it was time for a new plan.

The flight portion of this encounter was over. Now it was time for the fight.

Spitting out sand, Sabrina drew herself up and grabbed the piece of driftwood, pulling it out of the sand. It was about forearm length, somewhat heavy, and, miraculously, very dry. Perfect size for swinging.

As she appraised the wood, she saw the figure draw closer, almost upon her thanks to her unscheduled stop. Knowing her luck, they were probably incorporeal, so a blunt instrument alone would probably not do much. So how could she augment this thing?

And then Sabrina remembered the lighter in her pocket. Sure, it failed to light before, but maybe it would work now? As slim of a chance as it was, it was better than none. She drew the lighter out of her pocket and tried to ignite it.

Come on, come on…she thought to herself, as the lighter continued to give her pathetic sparks. Then, after what felt like a hundred attempts and teetering on the verge of despair, there it was: a small flame, holding steady and illuminating its surroundings. For once, Sabrina felt triumphant. It was a tiny flame, but it would do nicely.

As the figure drew closer still, she took the flame to the end of the wood. Before long, the wood was glowing dimly at the tip, to Sabrina's delight. Sure, it wasn't exactly the roaring fire she might have hoped for, but the heat and light would still be enough to dispel the figure. Speaking of which, they managed to approach somewhat over arm's length, with more demotivational rhetoric:

Fighting is pointless…embrace your fate…

"Embrace this, you creepy asshole!" Sabrina shouted, and swung the lighted wood down upon them with full force.

The glowing tip, subdued as it was, seemed to do its job. The figure was bisected cleanly down the middle, and they began to dissipate, emitting a horrible psychic scream. All of the worst sounds Sabrina could think of put together paled in comparison to how awful the screaming was, but it didn't matter. To Sabrina, this was the sound of victory. She had gotten herself out of yet another scrape thanks to the miracle that was fire.

…is what she thought for all of five seconds.

As the figure dissipated, they seemed to be absorbed back into the mist, which began drawing in closer. Sabrina turned to run, but the mist was also drawing in from that direction, and, in fact, all directions. The wind had started up again, howling furiously and calling her name.

Sabrina…Sabrina…

Panic once again began to set in. Sabrina swung the wood around wildly, desperately trying in vain to keep the mist back, screaming in frustration and terror.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" she cried, her swings slowly becoming weaker. In response, the voice seemed only to grow louder.

Sabrinaaaa…SABRINAAAAA…

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Tears had begun to flow from her eyes, blurring her vision as the mist had begun to embrace her. It was cold. So very cold…

SABRINAAAA!...SABRINAAAAAA!...

"Sabrina! Sabrina! Wake up!"

Sabrina felt someone shaking her shoulders. However, rather than an icy grip, they were warm, soft, gentle hands. Kite's hands.

Upon this realization, Sabrina’s eyes shot open. Her vision was blurry, and she could feel moisture on her cheeks. Still, she was able to take in the surroundings and realize where she was: not a dark, mist-filled beach, but the bedroom she shared with Kite, who was currently looking at her with a rather concerned expression on their face.

“Sabrina? Are you okay?” Kite asked. “Talk to me!” If their expression didn’t make it clear how worried they were, their voice certainly did.

While Sabrina struggled to form a response, she felt a sudden breeze, and she shivered in response. For a split second, it was as if she was back at the beach. Before she could scream, however, that notion passed, and instead she mumbled indistinctly.

“What was that?” Kite asked, this time in a gentler tone of voice.

“Cold,” Sabrina managed. She felt the breeze again, but it was much less harsh than the beach winds had been, and certainly nowhere near as cold as the mists or the figure’s grip. This was in spite of her dress shirt and pants having been replaced with the tank top and shorts that were her usual sleepwear. Gradually, she was coming back to reality.

“Oh! The fan!” Kite said. They jumped up from the bed, walked over to the running fan nearby, and turned it off. “Sorry, it was getting a bit stuffy in here.”

“‘S alright,” Sabrina murmured, rubbing her eyes and wiping away the tears that had accumulated on her face. “And I’m fine, by the way. Just had a bad dream, is all.”

“To say the least,” Kite said. “You were thrashing and yelling pretty loudly at the end there.”

“Oh, uh, sorry about that,” Sabrina said. “Didn’t mean to wake you with my bullshit.”

“Never mind that, darling, I’m more worried about your mental state.” Somehow this made Sabrina feel worse than if they were annoyed at being awakened.

“I told you I’m fine, okay? Just a nightmare. Nothing special. I have ‘em all the time, you know this.”

“You were screaming and crying and swinging your arms around for dear life, I’d hardly call that ‘nothing special.’” Kite said sternly, hands on their hips completing the stern teacher look (though Sabrina’s teachers never stood over her wearing a sparkly peach nightgown–at least not outside certain dreams…). “Now then…” They sat back down on the bed next to Sabrina, then gingerly rested their hand on top of hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sabrina, not exactly eager to relive whatever that might have been, was fully prepared to end the discussion with a definitive “No.” Then she made one fatal mistake: looking up at Kite’s face. So kind, so sympathetic, so ready to listen, so earnest in their desire to help their fake wife.

Goddamnit.

“Well, if it’ll make you stop asking…”

She then recounted everything in the dream that she could recall, which was a surprisingly difficult task, because many of the details were fading rather quickly from her mind. Still, she was able to tell Kite about the most important things: the beach, the city in the distance, the figure, the mist, and, of course, how cold everything was. Kite listened patiently and didn’t interrupt her, only chiming in once Sabrina had finished.

“Holy shit, that sounds terrifying!” Kite exclaimed. “Alone and separated on a dark beach, surrounded by mist, with a creepy figure slowly chasing you? No wonder you were reacting so violently.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Sabrina agreed absentmindedly. While she was still shaken by the dream, recounting it to Kite had helped her put distance from it, knowing that it was over. Suddenly, she was hit with inspiration. “Y’know, I still don’t remember who I was with before it all went down, but I think it might have been you, after all.”

“And what makes you say that?” Kite asked, a single eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

Without hesitation, Sabrina answered, “It’s because you always keep me warm.”

A surprised look crossed Kite’s face. Even in the moonlight Sabrina could tell that their face was flushing quickly and deeply. Soon she felt the heat rush to their own cheeks as she realized what she had just said. Damn, how was she so smooth at a time like this? She was honestly impressed with herself.

Just as quickly, though, a loving smile crept along Kite’s face. “Well, in that case, how about I warm you up after such a frigid ordeal?” they asked.

Sabrina returned their smile with a wide one of their own. “Hmm, I’d like that very much, actually.”

They laid back down on the bed, Kite drawing their arms protectively around Sabrina, who wrapped her own around their waist. Kite pressed Sabrina’s head close to their chest, and she eagerly leaned into it. As she drifted back to sleep, her last sensations were the feeling of Kite stroking her hair and the reassuring sound of their heartbeat.

It was good to be warm.

#nikky dash #sabrina #kite nye #kabrina #my wriitng #horror

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katealpha · 2 years

Text

Raya Headcanons

• Sisu was resurrected from death, but she now has a chronic pain in her chest that stings when she’s near Namaari, or if she thinks about what happened.

•Sisu was allowed to keep all of her sibling’s magic after the dragons were freed as a reward for her help in uniting Kumandra. Now she’s spends half the time in her human form with Raya, while being one of the strongest of all dragons.

•While living in Heart’s Palace with Raya, Sisu was basically was spoiled by all the servants and chefs that admired her, and as a result she ended up not being as slim as she was during the events of the movie in a few month’s time. She doesn’t mind having a slight potbelly though, as she feels like it fits her bubbly personality.

•Sisu’s favorite food is Congee and her favorite drink is Dragonleaf Tea, with shrimp on the side. Her most eaten food is ham and catfish.

•Boun’s family was so proud of how he survived during the Druun outbreak that they allowed him to continue running his business with a little help. Month’s later and word has spread that some of the best food in Kumandra comes from Tail, which is hardly a coincidence.

•Namaari, even after being forgiven by Sisu, held an incredible level of guilt inside for what she did. After the celebrations ended, she distanced herself from everyone, including her mother who was rather resentful of her daughter after what happened. Namaari would end up casting her crossbow into the river, and began to pursue mediation, trying to find the best way to start forgiving herself for her rash actions.

• Noi’s mother became aware of her daughter’s talents with the Ongis and decided to occasionally let her pull off a con when needed to help them with money issues. They were never caught in the act.

•Benja would come to recognize Sisu as a mother figure for Raya, and a much needed one. While he had mostly moved on from his wife’s tragic passing during childbirth, he still hated that Raya never had another woman in her life, and he was glad that it finally came in the form of the dragon he and Raya practically worshiped.

•Through the use of magic, male dragons can become pregnant and reproduce in the sand fashion as female dragons. It involves using magic and a rather delicate ritual that only dragons can perform. Shortly after he was freed, Jagan took it upon himself to make sure there were more dragons to help defend Kumandra. 10 months later, Jagan was ready to have 3 dragon pups and his baby shower was the biggest celebration in Kumandra since the Druun was defeated.

•Raya did indeed have “feelings” towards Namaari, and they didn’t go away after all was said and done. Eventually, Raya began to visit Fang on a somewhat frequent basis, until Namaari finally opened up about her guilt. After that, they felt closer than ever once they finally expressed their feelings, and finally agreed to start seeing each other more often.

•Tong, despite being happy to be with his family and people again, was harrowed by his experiences with the Druun. However he turned his trauma inti curiosity, and began to search the lands of spine for answers about how the Druun came to be, receiving help from even Pengu himself. He hasn’t found out much, but he has found clear evidence that there’s more to the Druun than Sisu initially thought herself. Truths that many citizens of Kumandra weren’t ready to hear which went way back to the beginning of Kumandra’s founding over a thousand years ago.

•Sisu holds a lot of guilt in her as well following the events that led to Raya’s victory. Reflecting on her stubborn naivety, she realized that perhaps Raya was right about more than she had thought, and that she put a lot of people in danger because of it. One night, she approached Raya and gave an almost out of nowhere, sincere apology, which ended in the emotional dragon to break down after calling herself stupid. But luckily her siblings and Raya were there to help her move past it all.

•Virana’s transgressions didn’t go without consequence. After finding out what happened six years prior, and her intentions to take the credit for freeing the dragons for her own self interests, one certain dragon paid her a discreet visit. Within the next three hours, Virana stepped down from her position as Chief and formed a senate that would be in charge of making decisions.

•Pengu’s ability to control water on an immaculate level, as well as change the weather to a drastic degree makes him one of if not the single most powerful of the dragons after Sisu and a select few other dragons with abilities like controlling shadows and reading others minds.

•In her human form, Pranee is a very skilled fighter, most skilled with fan blades and daggers. She was heavily involved with the conflict that caused the Druun to first appear, and she was very happy to train Raya some new sparring moves.

•Ambaa is the youngest and most introverted of the Datu family. Her glowing powers help her to stand out, but she prefers to maibly be one her own or with her closer friends and family most of the time. She is also deathly afraid of confrontational situations because she’s afraid the Druun might come back at the first argument.

•Tuk Tuk didn’t change at all. He still loves dumplings and rolls around with Raya every morning.

I hope you liked these random headcanons of mine that take place post Raya and the Last Dragon! These were a lot of fun to write about!

#disney #animated movies #raya and the last dragon #raya sisu #sisu the dragon #raya #namaari #headcanon

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slasherb1tch · 2 years

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Hii! Thank you for opening your matchups, I enjoy reading through them! Could I please get one for stranger things? I'm a straight female, she/her and I'd prefer a male please!

Hobbies/likes - I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I also love true crime very much. I love learning about new things and collecting knowledge, I'm very interested in psychology, history, mythology and folklore, and fashion! I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching psychological thrillers and romcoms.

Personality description - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious, I love being the best at everything I do, though I sometimes struggle with the hardwork and conviction needed to get there. I'm deathly afraid of failure and disappointing the people I love. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn and distant at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation.

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and slight dark circles under my eyes and I have broad shoulders. I dress mostly in relaxed suits, blazers and coats and I love the occasional dress or sweaters layered over a white button down!

Placements - my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3. I'm also a Taurus!

Thank you very much!! I hope you have a lovely day <3 <3

Hello!! Thank you so much for the kind words 😭♥︎!! I really hope you enjoy your matchup and thank you for the request <3!!

It was a bit difficult trying to figure out who to match you with, there were a few options I could have gone with.. I chose one and I hope you like him!!

You caught the attention of…

Alexei

This man would be entirely smitten the moment he meets you <3! Just being a couple inches taller than you, the first thing that would catch his eyes about you is your height! And I mean really… Alexei wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you. He’d be studying you from afar for a bit, memorising every trait he can about you… Before either Murray or Hopper notice him staring and make him introduce himself to you. Of course, in broken english, looking unsure of himself the entire time. (Poor boy 😭)

Once you two get closer and start spending more time together… Alexei would probably spot your Russian lit books right away, smiling to himself. The next day, his arms would be full of books for you as he waits at your door. He’d love being able to share his favourite poems and books with you, giving you a cheeky grin as he hands them over to you.

You and Alexei would be inseparable, if you want to go on an adventure, he’ll follow right behind you! You’re going to the movies? He’ll go even though he won’t understand what they’re saying all that well. Just buy him a cherry flavoured slushy and he’ll be 100% carefree.

After enough time spent with you, I’m sure he’d catch on a little to english. He’ll be proud to show you what he knows in little talks you two would have together! It’ll just keep getting better and better, although jokes might still go over his head… (He’s trying his best 🥲) Of course, since you like learning new things, he’ll be super excited to teach you Russian too! He’ll give you a giant grin each time you ask him a word, teaching you proudly.

Alexei is very much the same as you, so I think he’d understand your shyness around him when you two first meet. Once you start opening up to him, Alexei would be confident that you’re his person <3 He’d love listening to you talk about mythology or psychology, really any of your interests! Although he might not understand a few words, he’d love seeing your excitement.

If you find yourself losing motivation and getting frustrated at something, Alexei is always there to make you smile. He’s pretty good at reading body language, so when he starts to notice you feeling down, you’ll spend the day watching cartoons with him <3 Alexei giggling at stuff seen as so childish usually works like a charm.

Don’t ever worry about disappointing him, this man sees you like a literal god, you can’t do anything wrong. And if you do make a mistake? Alexei doesn’t care, he’ll give you a lil smile, his eyes squinted in joy, and tell you (most likely in russian) how much he loves you, pulling you in close to him. I can totally see you two as just lil flustered messes around each other, so whenever you compliment him or do something for him, his face will turn bright pink.

I really hope you like your matchup! Have a wonderful day <3

Enjoy~!

#stranger things #stranger things matchups #stranger things matchup 002 #dr alexei

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

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buoyant-breeze · 3 years

Text

modern reader in genshin world

characters ⊱ childe, diluc, zhongli, kaeya

warnings ⊱ completely safe! please enjoy!

rating ⊱ sfw

request ⊱ “hi! so i’ve had this idea in my head for a reader who is form the modern world (that doesn’t have genshin impact as a game) and got transported into genshin. they eventually just adapted to the world and doesn’t have any intention on going back to earth because it’s a world full of visions and cool stuff like that! despite how long they’ve been there, they still use modern slang (such as karen, memes, etc.), and how would childe, diluc, zhongli, and kaeya react to being friends with them?” ---🐇 anon (she/her)

zhongli

at first meeting with you, chances are he will chalk up your mannerisms to simply him not quite being up to date with the recent fashions and behaviors of the recent generation of liyue, which wouldn’t seem unlikely given his personal track record

as friends, he is very keen on trying to learn how to use the same language as you, with varying degrees of success

he will often ask you questions on what certain phrases mean

but as he gets to know you more, he realizes you’re the only person who uses this type of mannerisms, but man, did it take him a long time to figure this out, and it was only after saying, “i suppose that wasn’t very cash money of the merchant, was it?” which definitely caused a lot of confusion with a potential business partner

it was mildly embarrassing for him. but he moves on pretty quick.

which then leaves him wondering, why do you talk like this, and no one else?

unless you have revealed your past to him, chances are this is now going to be the time when he is going to turn around and try to get some answers for himself

and given that it is hard to truly lie to an ancient archon, you’re not going to really have much room to skirt around the response, if you so chose

but upon learning of your origins, he isn’t too off-put by the answer. after all, he’s been around for centuries, and he has seen far more unusual instances than that of your coming to this world

and since you plan on staying, he is more than happy to help answer your questions about this land, and enrich you with information and experiences of this world’s history, language, and culture

childe

from the moment you introduce yourself, childe has no idea what you’re saying.

any conversations you have together where you’ll reference some pop culture or modern day slang from your world, his brain is going to short-circuit and make the equivalent of overheated laptop noises, all while saying, “haha, yeah, yep!”

and no, he isn’t going to ask what any of it means, because he doesn’t want to make things awkward by suggesting he doesn’t know what’s going on; that’d probably have a negative payoff on his reputation, even if only slightly

and also, it’s a point of pride

but as you grow closer together and he gets used to hearing the same old mumbo jumbo, he’s going to start getting the hang of it. if nothing else, childe is a very perceptive individual, who happens to be pretty good at figuring things out

at this point there’s no way you can stop him from using the same vocabulary as you. it’ll probably be extremely shocking at first when he fluidly calls an irritating woman you were just dealing with together for a mission as a karen

but of course, he isn’t perfect, and he’ll probably make a few mistakes here and there. which you’ll definitely point out, and he’ll lie his way through defending himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about, where i’m from, this is how we say this,” even though most of your references are pretty much entirely exclusive to your homeworld

if you don’t directly tell childe of your origins, then the chances of him figuring it out himself isn’t all too high

he’s the type of person to ignore certain possibilities based on the idea that it is far-fetched or extremely unlikely

instead of thinking that you’re from a homeworld, his mind is going to make rapid conclusions ranging from you being from a very specific, far off area in teyvat, or that maybe you’re some weird celestial being like an adepti or an archon. and those latter options are not too likely, either, so he’s more willing to believe his first theory

but if your friendship starts bordering on decades of time together, he’ll probably learn of it because of a slip-up on your part, information gathering, or some other resource at his disposal; at that point, it doesn’t take much for the pieces to click together

regardless of whether you tell him or he learns of it himself, the only reaction he will have is mild surprise, especially when you decide to stay in teyvat

after all, he’s rather closely-knit with his own family and his homeland. the idea of leaving both of them behind forever doesn’t appeal to him, so he’ll have a hard time understanding your motivations

but with that aside, he can sort of see the silver lining of that, through your decision, he got to meet you and have someone he can trust at his side

kaeya

to be honest, even if you don’t directly tell kaeya that you’re from another world, he would eventually figure it out and reach that conclusion on his own; after all, you’re not exactly subtle with your modern day references

from the moment you meet, he’s going to have a hunch that something isn’t quite right with your story

he asks where you’re from, and the answer has some awful loopholes—so he starts investigating, mostly just for fun; he doesn’t really see you as much of a threat, at least, for the moment, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, and who knows... maybe it could be useful for something

but it turns out, no one really knows who you are unless you’ve personally helped them or engaged with them

so he starts digging more, asks you decievingly ‘innocent’ questions on your childhood, your family, your homelife—nothing that pries uncomfortably, but enough to try and gauge what is going on in your head, what makes you tick

your slang and references take him off-guard, but he can get the gist of what some of them mean based on his ability to infer in conversations

just when you think you’re going to be the only one laughing at your own joke, to your surprise, you suddenly hear kaeya give a strong, hearty chuckle at your side

he doesn’t know the whole context to the language you use or the things you’re talking about, and there will definitely be some instances where he won’t be able to figure it out due to the cultural difference, but he can still join the bandwagon

due to his own trust issues, his heart will be closed off to you over the course of your friendship, and because he doesn’t really know who you are, your motivations, or even where you’re from, he will have even a slower time of being able to be more emotionally connected with you

but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying your company, just don’t expect heart to heart conversations for a while

of course, eventually you tell him, or eventually he learns of it himself—and if he does learn of it himself, he will confront you to try and get a confirmation, one way or another

his inital reaction is almost pure indifference

is there anything that can be monetarily gained from this information besides the joy of simply knowing it? no, not really

but after some time goes by, and your friendship finally thaws into something real, he’ll be extremely curious to know more about your world and to hear stories from your time

and at some point, he’ll probably get nervous at the idea of you reconsidering staying in teyvat

after all, he has encountered a lot of loss and abandonment in his life, to see you leave again leaves him conflicted between this has how it’s always been, it doesn’t matter, and also please don’t go, it matters more than anything.

but this is just a personal, idle fear or doubt of his, as evidently, you’re pretty certain you want to stay

he probably wouldn’t use the slang or references much himself, since they have no personal weight, but when he seeks to confuse someone just for fun or for a manipulative purpose, they work in a pinch

diluc

he’s going to think this is some type of weird prank.

at first, he dismisses it completely. absolutely ignores it. he has no idea what you’re saying and he figures it’s just a tactic to confuse him, or that it was just a slip of the tongue.

except, this happens. a lot. it’s happened ever since he’s met you, and it only persists.

so, at this point, he’s going to realize this is just how you talk, but he isn’t really too sure how he feels about it.

he might be annoyed at it sometimes, if its poorly timed or causes a strain on his business or even personal affairs, but otherwise, he doesn’t care that much.

and eventually, any annoyance he does have will probably die down on it’s own as he develops a friendship with you.

he’s never going to outwardly investigate or try to figure out why you talk like this. he simply is going to believe that you’ll tell him something about it when you’re ready, and that’s good enough for him. after all, it isn’t a pressing matter, and there’s nothing he gains from trying to discover it on his own.

and until then, he’ll just decide that you probably are from some really distant area of teyvat.

generally, when you’re around other people and you reference something, chances are everyone else is going to turn to look at diluc for answers, and all he will do is shrug his shoulders with the expression of someone who is silently saying, this is just how they are

at some point in your friendship, you’ll likely open up about your origins or talk about your past, to which he will listen attentively, with a neutral, but kind patience

but, ultimately, diluc isn’t going to react too strongly to the reveal. he’ll probably be thoughtful for a moment, and ask about your plans and whether you miss where you’re from, but not really press too much into your business. after all, it is your life, not his.

internally, though, he’ll be a little surprised, since out of all the possibilities he’s considered, being from another time and place isn’t really one of them

you’ll never hear him use the same language as you do, mostly because he thinks its very odd and maybe even embarrassing, so you’d have to pester him to really try and get it out of him, but otherwise, he will live his entire life just snorting idly at any jokes you make that he just happens to understand through time spent with you

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

the art of modernity [ prologue ]

prologue - jueyun karst

pairing: xiao x gn!reader warnings: canon-typical violence mention words: ~1.8k words fic masterlist [ prev ] - [ next ]

chapter summary: you drag four of your closest friends to jueyun karst to chase after possible traces of the adepti. none of them expect for you to actually find any, but hey, anything is possible, right?

a/n: can't believe 'making xiao eat a chicken nugget and french fries' is becoming an actual fic but here we are. enjoy !! :D

when you had asked yanfei the legal repercussions of disrupting jueyun karst, the entire brunch table had looked at you as if you had grown a third eye. kaeya had sat down the third mimosa he had been nursing, while childe had actually stopped speaking for once. yanfei giggled with intrigue and keqing had stared at you with an expression that screamed are you serious right now?

yet somehow, you had ended up in keqing's overcrowded car and made a road trip to fuel your farfetched dreams. sure, like any kid growing up, you had read percy jackson and the archons, but, unlike most kids, you had taken the myths of the archons seriously. shrines and ruins still sung praises of their names, but most liyuean mythology was treated as having no greater value than old folk tales. the world had moved on past the need of teyvat's expansive pantheon of the elemental archons, visions, and celestia, yet some scholars sought to prove the existence of the old gods. most of the time, their efforts were fruitless.

you, of course, were no scholar. you were simply a dumbass who graduated college and decided in their post-college/pre-settled life panic to go traverse the treacherous lands of jueyun karst. as prosperous as liyue was, jueyun karst still remained heavily untouched as there were areas that even rich moguls were scared to get their grubby hands on. why turn the beautiful mountains and swirling lakes into sprawling shopping centers if the entire area was rumored to be cursed anyways? so, the country had turned jueyun karst into a protected area in the form of a national park.

but now, with your car full of three and a half dumbasses (keqing certainly doesn't count and yanfei is only halfway to idiocy), you had decided to certainly ignore the title of protected area. you had full intentions of disrupting whatever you could get your grimy hands on. you wanted to see the adepti in action and, if others called you crazy for it, then so be it.

"gods, where even are we?" kaeya asks. his tone lacks the annoyance you would expect from childe nor the worried-yet-still-composed nature you would expect from keqing's words. so, you shrug him off with a simple wave of your hand.

"not really sure, but there's enough of us out here that we won't die, right?" you ask and kaeya stares at you blankly before turning to look behind the two of you at the three stragglers.

"keqing!" he calls, realizing that you are of no help. "where are we?"

keqing huffs as she approaches the two of you while yanfei and childe stagger behind her, both acting tired despite being some of the most athletic people you know. in typical keqing fashion, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a compass. kaeya stares as the compass needle spins around aimlessly in her hand, its connection clearly disrupted by some force in the area.

"oh gods, what does that mean? we're going to die. we're going to die out here," childe deadpans, panic creeping into his voice. yanfei swats him playfully on the arm before he can begin his usual theatrics, knowing full and well how childe loves living in the spotlight.

"dying in a protected national park is illegal," yanfei adds and kaeya stares at her with a baffled expression.

"what? are the police going to arrest a corpse?" kaeya asks incredulously and yanfei folds her arms over her chest, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

"didn't you want to be a cop at one point? shouldn't you be aware as to how arresting procedures work?" yanfei asks and kaeya recoils at her question.

"no, i was considering going into military like my dad. i don't wanna be a cop," kaeya shoots back and childe jokingly gags once he hears the word 'military'.

"military? yuck," childe says and becomes the next recipient to receive childe's incredulous gaze.

"didn't you literally join the fatui for two years?" kaeya asks but childe shakes his head.

"not like you have any proof," the ginger-haired man shoots back.

"i can easily acquire proof?" kaeya says, but keqing clears her throat loudly before the two men can engage in a full showdown of words.

"c'mon, guys, we have bigger problems to solve than childe's blatant lies," keqing redirects the conversation with ease but not before kaeya lets out a triumphant hmph at keqing's words. "like figuring out why this compass isn't working and figuring out how to get back because it doesn't work."

"ooh, maybe it's not working because there are ghosts nearby," childe says, but before yanfei and kaeya can engage with his dumbassery once more, you interject.

"it's likely just elemental energy or adeptal energy. i know you guys probably don't believe in them, but this is said to be the former realm of the adepti. wouldn't be surprised if there are traces of them left!" you say, voice far too cheery for the implication of your words. kaeya only shrugs at the suggestion that gods are watching over you as you travel through the park, yanfei only looks intrigued in a nearly-dangerous way, keqing looks nonplussed due to her strong belief that the gods no longer exist, and childe looks absolutely terrified yet is trying to act like he isn't.

"anyways," you continue. "maybe there's a domain!"

"ancient liyuean law forbids unauthorized entrance into domains without proper licensure from the adventurer's guild," yanfei says, as if knowing ancient law is a completely normal activity for a twenty-something-year-old.

"what is a domain?" keqing and kaeya ask at the same time before glancing at each other.

"i'm... not sure. pretty sure they have like... ancient monsters and stuff," you confess and, for the first time today, childe perks up excitedly, eagerly taking a step closer to you.

"monsters? like those uh... hollychirls? whatever they're called? how big do you think they are?" childe asks with an excited glimmer in his eyes.

"weren't you just worried about dying?" keqing asks, but childe ignores her question.

"so like... we're trying to find this domain, right?" childe asks, confused. "what are we looking for?"

"i don't really see why a domain would have adepti traces so we're probably better off looking for something else," you say and yanfei perks up.

"like that?" she asks, pointing off at something glowing faintly orange in the distance. you squint slightly in an attempt to better look at it, but you're unable to distinguish what exactly yanfei as pointing at.

"we might as well go see what that is," keqing says and you're slightly surprised for the purple-haired girl to suggest such a thing, but you figure she's just trying to find a place where her compass actually works. the spinning dial isn't too much of a concern for you since you're in no rush to leave, but the friends you've brought along aren't quite as keen on discovering the secrets of the adepti as you are, so you follow the herd as they begin to move over to the glowing orange light.

the five of you climb down, approaching what soon reveals itself as a stone pillar with a glowing chunk of cor lapis on top. it's certainly nothing new and is probably a protected relic, yet no guards are stationed in front of it. it's almost certainly been discovered before, so why isn't it..?

"oh, isn't this area usually flooded?" yanfei asks and everyone turns to stare at her.

"you've been here before?" keqing asks and you wonder to yourself when these people will stop asking questions and instead keep looking for hints.

"you guys haven't traveled to jueyun karst before?" yanfei asks, confused. "yeah, this area's usually flooded with water. i've never seen that thing before."

if it's usually flooded, then it was likely discovered before, but not relocated, you think to yourself and immediately break out in a sprint towards the cor lapis tower. sure, it was about the height of you, with the cubic chunk on top reaching the height of your head, yet you were more than satisfied with looking at the carvings on the side. childe is the first to catch up with you, using his long legs to match your pace. he sighs as you finally stop and watches as you frantically begin poking and prodding at the pillar.

"are you sure that's a good idea?" he asks, nervously. "what if it's a mechanism or something?"

"what's the worst that could happen?" you ask and childe sputters over his words.

"a lot of things!" childe insists, yet kaeya, keqing, and yanfei's joined arrival interrupts him from making an even bigger fuss.

"try putting your palm flat on the diamond," yanfei suggests and you take a step back. with a steady hand, you lays her palm flat against the side of the pillar, in which a diamond has been engraved onto its surface. around the group of you, the remnants of water begin to glow orange as the pillar emits an even stronger, unnatural glow of energy. the pillar begins to vibrate rapidly and yanfei lets out a small, knowing laugh while the rest of you watch, wide-eyed and confused by the moving pillar.

yet, all that happens is that the cor lapis situated on the top of the pillar falls off, landing on the side of the pillar with a resounding crack. the four of your friends immediately move over to look at the now shattered chunk of cor lapis on the ground, yet you gravitate towards the stone pillar. on the spot where the cor lapis fell, a single name is etched into the stone, as if this pillar is supposed to mark a specific area.

"'xiao'?" you breathe, reading off the word on the pillar.

"what's xi-" kaeya begins, glancing over at you, but before he can finish, a flash of green appears on the opposite side of your friends. your lips part in shock as you watch the deity appear before you. a mask rests on his face and a polearm rests in his hand, yet despite his disguised face, you can sense the anger rolling off his form in waves. his green hair ruffles in the wind as his free hand reaches up to lower his mask. infuriated amber eyes pierce into yours, but the adeptus speaks before you can.

"i am adeptus xiao. how dare you mortals infringe upon jueyun karst and disrupt my land?" xiao seethes and, for once, all five of you are silent as the yaksha points his polearm at you.

taglist:

@somemothgoingferal @miicachii @hq149 @albedostar @the-astrumnauta @falconcoast @dilucsz @transactionalrelationship @koko-cherry @dumpling-gif @shulkerdotjar @popdrop @seokflwr @solarpearl @tsubaki3192 @marifujioka @astronomeh @daichiri @cryspyjk @svnflowery @anseoo @rintaoreo @fuhuashandholder @squashbee

please send in an ask (not submission or dm!) to be placed on the taglist! if your name is in italics that means i am unable to tag you!

#xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao #genshin impact #//the art of modernity #//taom #axia's writing

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