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fantasy-au-askblog · 1 year

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Isaac Beamer and the Realm of Fantasy

IBVS by onebizarrekai

Chapter 4 - Flight

Only one day remained until the two debts needed to be paid off to the Madame. So far the money had been coming in relatively steady, the added bonus of no longer needing to buy food meant that for first time since the Jovel Twins had moved to the money-motivated town…they had made some form of profit. Drew was of course ecstatic at this. Finally! The two would have a chance to leave this awful place! Unaware of how little this month of profit actually meant.

…Nevin was aware.

While yes, it was nice to see their quaint little potion business finally ‘take off’. But the added profit was due to the fact they’ve just been spending less thanks to the fact they had a thief and a baker who depended on them to pay their own debt. Adding unwanted pressure on the amount of gold they needed. As well as having to use product on a certain individual, The Prince, the boy with enough gold to pay off their debts and still have mountains off it left over. Unfortunately…Nevin wasn’t allowed to inquire about any sort of pay for his and Drew’s service. Heck! He could hardly get close enough to quiz the future King on a one to one basis. Barry was always by his side making excuses on his behalf.

‘My apologies Nevin, but his highness has no gold to spare’

Bullshit.

When he would bring up the possibility of Edward paying him once he got his ‘gold back’ he was always interrupted.

By Barry who would simply bring Edward away to continue the simple jobs he had given the two, by Drew who would tell Edward not to worry about it while shooting him a look and finally by Isaac, who he was unsure whether he meant it in a jokey way when he snickered about getting him and Chris some extra gold due to their work. Honestly…Nevin had had enough of it.

The debt was still quite large.

She was still a large threat to his life…and everything he cherished.

So…as some form of petty revenge for the lack of funds… Nevin found a way to make every ‘no’, a new chore. Couldn’t hurt the noble blood to understand what those at the bottom had to do every day.

Making them clean the house from top to bottom, travel miles to collect items for those within the town (similar to what Nevin would normally do for the blacksmith), selling the potions as usually and so on and so forth.

This alone allowed him to put more time into his potion making. More potions, more profit afterall.

Though he did find it strange how often Drew stepped in to try and convince him to ease off. Every morning without fail there’d be a tug at his sleeve and the usual plea’s to go easy. And as usual Nevin ignore him. He didn’t know the extent of the trouble they were truly in….

Today was no exception.

Per the usual morning routine, everyone (aside from Drew and Nevin) was lined up against the wall that the stairs rested against. Isaac and Chris casually stood there. They knew what they were going to be tasked today. Paying little mind to what Nevin said, wasn’t going to be too strenuous anyway the two had been doing these tasks for years.

But Edward was especially struggling now. With this short angry teen he hardly had any chance of rest since he had woken up! Now he wished he had listened to Barry instead of that weird sensation he had gotten from everyone present. Perhaps he would have actually rested!

His muscles felt weak and overused. All he wanted now was one day off!

However, as soon as he heard Nevin’s long list of demands, he knew it would take a miracle for his wants to come true.

“Now you’re all dismissed.” Nevin spoke rather callously, turning on his heel to reach the door under the stairs. He needed to get back to potion making as soon as possible.

“Wait Nevin-“ There was the quiet voice of morality who protested once more. “Can we please give them a little less work today?”

Shifting ever so slightly. “No we can’t. Maybe his royal highness can kick up his feet once I have enough money to comfortable live off.” He paused before finishing with “forever.”

Drew’s face stiffened at the unnecessary comment. “You know that’s not possible currently.” He folded his arms stubbornly.

“Then he shall not kick his feet up under this roof.” The other twin snapped as he opened the door.

“Nevin we can’t just keep overworking them like this! It’s wrong!” Drew further exclaimed pushing at the door in an attempt to shut it. “This is the most money we’ve ever had before! There’s no need for such pressure!”

Eerily Nevin turned to look at Drew. A silent stubborn gleam in his eye. “Yeah.” His face displayed no sign of agreement. “Yeah, we’re totally fine.” Now his voice was laced in sarcasm.

Which resulted in Drew feeling as though he had spoken out of line. “We are aren’t we?” He sounded doubtful now…even though he was sure that this was the most prosperous time the twins had ever had!

“We would be under normal circumstances, yeah.” He swift turned to look at Drew in the eye. The teal reflecting in his eye, bouncing off every glassy surface and landing onto his twin. Burning into him… “But you always forget that they have wasted product and added onto the amount we owe.” Swapping targets over to everyone in the room.

Edward feeling particular targeted, as Nevin’s glare was hyper-focused on him. In all honesty he couldn’t understand why. All he had done was woken up after an accident that left him stranded. No clue where he was, or knowing whether or not all his family and friends were alright? Only just starting to piece previous events together… what had he done wrong? ‘Wasted Product’ and accepted refuge until he got better?

“So?” Drew tensed up. His voice raising in pitch as he tried to stand his ground. “We’re not going to leave people bloodied and bruised for the sake of saving our skins!”

“I would.” A cold response…which he should have expected. “Anything to keep us safe I will do.” No matter how cruel the task was Nevin was prepared to do anything.

In response Drew only clenched his hands. “And anything to help others I will do.”

An irritated sigh soon erupted from the taller twin. “What’s up with you and always helping people?! Can’t you care about us for once?!” Nevin threw his hands up in the air. “Christ, as if any of them would do anything for you or I.” A bold statement.

“…You know I would.” Chris weakly raised his hand. “…Since it is nice of you two…to help me and Isaac...”

“See Nev!” Drew’s argument continued to have a strong footing. “It doesn’t hurt to be considerate!”

“That’s one of four!” Nevin argued back. “Drew the only reason I even agreed was because they told me he was a baker! If it had just been the thief I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea, let alone agreed!”

“Why not! You’re always judging people and for what reason!”

“BECAUSE I’M USUALLY RIGHT.” Nevin slammed his hand down onto a nearby shelf, causing a few of the items to fall down onto the ground.

Chris even yelped in surprise when a shiny vase shattered next to him.

Nevin’s breathes became erratic and deep, glancing worried between everyone…but especially at Drew. “…Drew I’m-“ Reaching forward he saw that Drew flinched quickly in an attempt to get away.

“…All I asked was for you to go easy…” Tears soon hit the floor while Drew crouched down and began picking up the fallen items. “…Was it so difficult for you to just say ‘yes, that’s fine’.” He looked up at Nevin.

“…” Nevin just quickly picked up what had fallen, sloppily placing it back on the shelf. “Mind cleaning that up?” He looked over at Chris and stared directly at the vase that had shattered near him. “I need to get back to work myself.”

Chris hesitantly nodded his head. “Uh…sure…I don’t mind.” He crouches down and began picking up the larger pieces first. “Where should I put it?”

“On the side… I’ll dispose it later.” Nevin opened the door to the basement. “Everyone meet back as soon as the sunsets.” He slammed the door behind him.

It fell silent once more. The smell of burning cloth started filtering into the room. Clearly the goggle wearing twin was upset by his twin’s lack of empathy. Why was his word final anyway? Why couldn’t Drew put in his own opinion forward in this supposedly ‘equal business’?!

“I appreciate the offer of assistance Drew.” Barry broke the silence with a hint of gratitude in his voice. “But I assure you me and his highness will be fine.”

His highnesses face painted a different picture. His jaw dropping and his eyes widening. “Will be fine?” He repeated. “Yeah I’ll be fine once my backs broken-“ He added on, stretching his back out… wincing at the sound of a click. “How have you been doing it for this long anyway?” Ed glanced at Barry.

A small shrug. “Hope I suppose.” He responded picking up a sack of pre-made potions, reaching for the other when he spotted Chris’ hand taking it.

“…Um…if it’s not a bother…I can help.” Chris said anxiety bubbling in his chest, nervous about what the Prince and his Lord would think about him.

Barry was just about to speak up when. “You can?! Oh thank goodness, that would be greatly appreciated-“ His Prince got in just before him.

“Oh it’s not a problem.” He had finished baking enough bread for the next few days. If he had made anymore they’d go rock solid before anyone had a chance to eat them! “So Isaac.”

The thief casually glanced over. “Yes baker boy?”

A pause. “…You can have the day off today too, despite what Nevin says, I don’t need any more baking supplies currently.” Chris brushed off the comment.

“Good, I was thinking the baker that I usually go to is starting to get suspicious of me. But hey give it a few days and I may be wrong.” Isaac picked up his bag planning on going to the town to see what he could ‘borrow’.

“Lucky.” He heard the Prince mutter.

“I know.” Isaac smirked. “Hence why I haven’t been caught.”

He bowed slightly, opening the door and welcoming in the morning air. He took a deep breath shutting his eyes and embrace the peaceful morning. Skimming the area for his next area of exploration as he then ran off to the town like a magpie in search of its next find.

Drew couldn’t help but snicker ever so slightly. “Never been caught, yet, has debt for stealing.” Repeating the motion of picking up one’s own bag. “Oh, Edward?” He opened up the hatch and handed him a potion of healing. “Please take this with you.”

“To sell?” Edward guessed.

Drew shook his head. “In case your back breaks.” He gave a little wink, soon speeding out the door to catch up with the thief.

Isaac was already enjoying his ‘day-off’, no need to steal for rent, he can spend a whole day mooching around and stealing so many precious items to eventually pawn off when he and Chris eventually left this poor excuse of a town. He whistled as he quickly walked around…eyeing the people around. From his few days here he had wondered how everyone here was dressed ever so glamorously. Especially considering the odd systems of debt….how could anyone get rich from that?

Well. He certainly could. Steal a few bracelets, necklaces and rings from the wealthy ladies and try to casually pocket a small string bag attached to the hips of wealthy men (which jingled and jangled with the familiar sound of gold). Imagine how rich he could get from that?

Though his full-proof plan was no longer full-proof, as he didn’t count for the possibility that he would be soon interrupted.

“Hey! Isaac!”

However, he did attempt to ignore who was calling him.

“Hey!”

But, he couldn’t ignore the person when they had placed their hands on his arm. Glancing over his shoulder tiredly.

“What do you want Drew?” He asked looking at the smaller figure, while immediately looking back at possible targets. “I’m a little busy.” He adds spotting that one of the figures he wanted to snatch from had turned a corner.

“But Chris isn’t asking you too… steal?” Drew spoke the last word in a whisper. “…But you owe me, remember when I gave you that gold in exchanging for some drawings?” Upon reminding the young thief of what he owed, he heard the most irritated exaggerated groan in all of his life.

“Ugh, Fine.” Isaac quickly pulled out his sketchbook. “What did you want again?” Scooping out his trusty pencil he spun it professionally in his left hand.

“Wings!” Drew exclaimed excitedly. “Big enough for me to fly.” He then received an extremely tired gaze, Isaac tapping his sketchbook agitated.

“Cause this will definitely fit it.” Isaac states bluntly making direct eye contact, widening his eyes to really highlight how irritated he was. “But I suppose I could try and take your measurements…if you go get me some measuring tape.” Would be a good chance to pick-pocket while the other was distracted.

Drew awkwardly looked around. “…I don’t think they’d allow me in.”

“So? Just walk in and ask.” Isaac continued keeping his sketchbook in one hand as he began pushing Drew towards the rather fancy looking store. “I’ll start getting some sketches down.” He said with a condescending smile pushing Drew inside until he heard the satisfactory ringing of the bell.

Quickly putting his sketchbook away he speedily made his way down to the market place that he had grown accustomed too from stealing so many baking ingredients. Spotting the same target from earlier, he relaxed his posture and dropped a small glass bottle of ink on the ground behind him.

Approaching the young lady (who thankfully, wasn’t Madame Felicia) he began conversation. A nice casual distraction as he chatted about general topics, trying to take the women’s mind of what he was doing. He kept one hand behind his back to effectively control the ink he had left behind. Forcing a fake laugh/cough once it got a grasp of a pair of beautiful earrings.

Once it was safely secured, it went straight into his pocket… where he wrapped up the conversation.

“Nice sketches.”

Isaac jumped like a frightened cat. “Oh, uh, hey-“

“Hi…” Drew squints slightly. “Well I got the measuring tape, the main guy in charge said we can have it for 5 minutes.” He pops it out from his bag. “So?”

Isaac took the tape and haphazardly measured across Drew’s waist, shoulders and arms. Jotting down the measurements as fast as possible, just to get rid of the annoyance. “There, you can return it now.”

Drew folded his arms as he received the tape. “I think you should do the same.” He instantly looked down at Isaac’s pockets. “It’s not good to steal jewerely.”

“And? Not good to waste time either, so chop-chop.” Isaac clapped his hands frantically.

“Okay, okay…” Drew pauses taking a deep breath. “Work on the sketches this time, please?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Isaac dismissed twirling the pencil in his hand as he reluctantly got his sketchbook out. Watching as Drew re-entered the shop once more. Probably better to do what the kid wanted anyway.

Better to not piss of the people who were currently offering to pay his debt off…

Although… he could probably pay them off quite easily now. It did pay to casually steal expensive items as he went around getting the ingredients Chris needed. He didn’t even have to do this. But because Chris was reluctant to leave (for whatever reason), he couldn’t just throw the expensive jewerely at the people who had enforced the debt and leave.

Soon glancing to his side he felt a weight press against his shoulder. “Oi. Personal space.” He said angrily, rolling his shoulder to knock Drew off of him. Who then sat down on the wall beside him a tweeting noise coming from his hands.

“I got a bird for you.” Drew mumbled as the small bird sat in his hands comfortably.

“Pray tell, but why would I need a bird?” Isaac inquired, looking at Drew’s hands alarmed that there was a bird there. “…And how did you catch that?” He was always under the assumption that bird’s never landed on the ground… that they always flew in the air, never wanting to be stuck in one area.

“Well I thought it’s wings could help you map out the drawing and get a rough idea of what material we’ll be using.” As he spoke, Drew gently put one of his hands under the bird’s wings, pulling them out to show Isaac what he had meant. “And two, this is the bird that I’ve known since me and Nev came here.”

Isaac nods his head, sitting on the wall beside Drew as he stared at the birds wing while drawing the general shape on his page. Adding the feathers and their shape just as briefly. “…I’m sure you can release the bird now. And I’m free to go now right? I’ve done your dam sketches.” He rips out the page and placed it in Drew’s pocket. A smirk on his face.

“I suppose if you want to.” Drew put the bird on his shoulder. “Guess you’ve also forgotten I asked you to help me scale them up to my size.” Jumping down from his perch on the wall. “Also aren’t you curious to see what they look like!” He adds with an excited gleam in his eye.

“Not as curious as I am to see where I’ll go after this place.” Isaac responded, tilting his head up to the sky.

A flurry of birds overhead emerged and re-emerged as they soared high above the clouds that splattered across the sky. Frantic wings flapped as the wind died down for a brief moment. Suddenly a ripple of wind tore itself through the sky, picking up speed as it reached the crowd of birds. Isaac could only watch in amazement as he saw the relaxed stature of the birds, gliding peacefully on the metaphorical waves off the wind.

Feeling Drew’s shoulder meet his. “…Same here…” Drew muttered out pulling the sketch from his pocket, which had his measurements dotted across the side. The wind threatened to rip it out of his hands. The paper flailing around in a desperation to join the guidance of the wind… “Hence why these wings are so important to me.”

“People still can’t fly.” Isaac spoke doubtful. “Or else we would all be up there wouldn’t we?” He nods his head up towards the sky, a slight crease of a smile on his face.

Huffing and puffing slightly. “I know, and hey I’m gonna prove you wrong.” Drew put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out. “Today. I’m gonna fly high above the clouds…just you see.”

Dismissive hums escaped from Isaac’s mouth, taking a deep breath of that fresh clean air. “I’d love to see you try.” Either way the result of this ‘challenge’ would be majestic or he would get to say the only thing he constantly reiterated to the other that ‘People can’t fly’.

“So you are curious?”

“Let’s say you’ve peeked my curiosity then.”

Isaac was a little surprised to find himself subconsciously leaning towards Drew. Especially after he had just nudged him off of him less than 5 minutes ago. Perhaps he did it just to challenge Drew. It was a much lesser challenge then he had done just a few days ago…but he must admit he was itching for a new one.

Soon feeling his elbow get dragged and yanked.

“Then let’s go see who’s right.”

Well this was certainly intriguing. Isaac was currently sat on a burnt stump in the middle of the forest. A rather burnt area, which resulted in him concluding that this could’ve been Drew’s area of the forest. Somewhere he could disappear too with the sounds of tweeting birds and the scampering of critters to accompany him. Air had never felt so clean. However, that could mostly be due to the fresh smell of the trickling stream that wrapped around.

Soon hearing the frantic steps from who he guessed was Drew, who was carrying a numerous amount of supplies. Such as: a huge sheet of crinkled paper with scribbles on the side, the makeshift proto-type of the wings and a plethora of feathers. Drew dropped it all on the ground the metal clattering and clambering as it fell on the ground below.

“So this is what I have so far.” He quickly gestures to the pile as we wipes his forehead with a rag in his pocket. “What do you think?”

Isaac glanced down at the numerous amount of bits and bolts that had been flung everywhere. “…It’s a start.” He pinched the top of the proto-type wing, looking at it rather disgusted. “But stupidly small, no wonder it didn’t work for you.” It hardly reached his elbow for goodness sake! “Okay, I’m hoping you still have that bird now.”

“But you told me-“

Isaac quickly interjected. “Forget what I said earlier. Do you have the bird?” He looked at the pile of large elongated wings.

“I do.” The tiny bird soon hopped out from under his sleeve. “So why do you need it?” He asked as Isaac put his hand under the bird’s wings, outstretching them and using his pencil as some kind of measuring tool.

Then measuring the width of said bird and marking where it was with his nail. “See, this is the problem.” Isaac twirled the pencil behind his ear. “You don’t understand the weighting of the wings, hence why they don’t work.” He flips out his sketchbook and started jotting actual proper efficient wing measurements for Drew to use.

Drew once again peering on his shoulder, seeing that Isaac had drawn the bird in the corner with the scaling off its wing right next to it. Though, he must admit he was oddly flattered when a rather accurate brief doodling of himself soon emerged on the page.

“Woah…” He muttered out. “Thank you.”

“What’s there to thank, I’m just securing that 70 gold you gave me.” Isaac tried scaling the wing to what would work with Drew’s height and possible weight. “…So, I’m right that wing is far too small.” He closes his sketchbook with a satisfactory sound. “Therefore, I doubt you’ll be able to prove me wrong by the end of the day.” He made eye contact with Drew and gave his signature smirk.

“…I’m a fast worker.” Drew pulled up his gloves and flicked down his goggles. “May want to look away for this, sparks will be flying.” He sat down on the ground and grabbed large amounts of metal and feathers.

“…But I have to see how you’re going to do this.” Leisurely sitting back down on the stump.

Drew soon began channelling some inner feelings to spark the reaction he desired. Removing his gloves, hands instantly ignited with the flame he had grown all too familiar with.

Turning to look over his shoulder. “This is how.” He held some of the scrap metal in his hand, beginning to melt it. “It’s not the most effective method of attaching things together, but it works if I do it right.” He casually mumbles to himself as he places a few feathers into the wire frame of the metal.

Soon finding Isaac right next to him.

Seemingly outstretching his hand towards the flame, fascinated by it.

“Uh, hey, Isaac…” He turned away from the other. “You’re gonna burn your hand on the metal if you’re not careful.” Drew cautioned.

“Hey, I’m aware thank you.” A quick grumble emerged. “I just want to watch it is all.”

Drew shrugs his shoulders slightly. “Okay, but no touching.” He continued to expand the metallic wings to what Isaac had envisioned on the page.

“Fine.” It’s not like he was actually going to stick his hand in the fire!

After only a few minutes of watching the flame spin and twirl against the forest wind…the wings that Drew had spent most of his life crafting…had almost tripled in size. Only few feathers remained, and Drew couldn’t help but beam in delight, his dream wings were finally looking like the one’s he had envisioned ever since he was a little kid.

Which as his excitement grew so did the flame... not exactly great considering the delicate and rather flammable nature of feathers.

Soon popping it on the ground he stood up and dabbled his hands in the water. Getting rid of the flames…no matter how much it would scar his skin afterward. Wiping his hands in his shorts, Drew dramatically turned to Isaac.

“Seems as though it’s gonna work now.”

“Keep telling yourself that kid.” Another round of sarcastic eye-rolling. “Still doubt it’ll work.”

Isaac stared at the soft yet confident smile on Drew’s face. “And? You can brag about it when I break my arm.”

“Won’t your brother be mad?”

“…What Nevin doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” Drew replied, looking to see the familiar green glow of the healing potion in his pocket. “So. Shall we go see?”

Isaac got up and dusted himself off. “Yep. I can’t wait.”

The more this went on, the more Isaac wondered how far this was going to go. As the scene in front of him seemed pretty extreme. Causing Isaac to ponder if he would need to activate a certain ‘gift’ in order to play the ‘hero’. Staring up at the rather short platform of the roof where Drew stood.

Yep. Perfectly safe.

“You good up there!” Isaac called up seeing as though the wind had picked up.

Drew clasped hold of the roof. “I’m fine! Thank you!” He called back down.

“Ya sure? The wind seems to be getting stronger, might have to call this off!” Isaac continued to tease as he decided to wander over to the cliff edge and take a seat there.

An intimidation tactic to try and win the challenge for now, or, to actually get a good view of the crash.

Seems as though his teasing just made Drew more determined. Plopping his goggles over his head, standing up and outstretching his arms (where he had attached the wings too). One final breath. Before he took the plunge.

First thing he felt was the harsh wind initially throwing him of course, feeling himself tumble as the air pushed him upwards towards the sky. Though once the wind had died down once again…well it was a good thing he had decided to wear goggles. The sheer, sudden acceleration of speed would’ve made his eyes water and unable to navigate the skies.

In fact he had gone so fast he had almost knocked over Isaac as he headed past the cliff face.

Recalling all the hours he had put into monitoring birds he takes off the, and began soaring into the unknown. He opened his eyes slightly…the most exciting and terrifying view in front of him. The ocean. Mere feet away from him.

“HEY FLY UP, YOU IDIOT!” Isaac screamed out loud. Wondering how on earth he was gonna get this kid out of the ocean if he crashed! Already awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the cliff and perilously climb down he soon heard a voice.

“I’M SORRY WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Drew shouted. “Fly up? Didn’t know that also met climb down.” Isaac turned to look over his shoulder, seeing Drew quite happily flapping around just above him.

A brief sigh. “Well congrats you’ve proved me wrong. People can fly, woo.” Isaac sat back down on the cliff, after giving a weak victory gesture to celebrate.

“Actually I am yet to prove you wrong.” Drew reached forward and grabbed hold of his hand. “I am one person.”

Quickly retracting his hand back. “That thing doesn’t even look like it can hold one person-“ He snaps looking at the still fragile frame of the wings.

A soft laugh emitted from the one in the sky. “Well once again I’ve proved you wrong.” He plops himself on the Cliffside next to him. “But I guess we’re both right and wrong.” Drew smiles.

His heart was racing from the brief taste of the skies above. That adrenaline rush. Woah. This was the closest he had ever gotten to his dream. Taking just a few brief strides in the ocean above. Now all he needed was a few more tweaks and not only would it be perfect for him…but then he could prove Isaac wrong too, by getting him to soar above.

“Well for now anyway.” Drew concluded finishing his brief thoughts.

Isaac glanced over to him. “Hm…I’m still saying I’m more right then you.” A devious look on his face.

Leaning forward slightly Drew gently placed a light punch to his shoulder. “Hey, we’ll see in the end!”

“Yeah, yeah.” The other dismissed staring upwards towards the sky. “…The day’s gone fast…” He muttered quietly to himself, flabbergasted that the sun was already setting. Warm and cool tones colliding with one another to create the prettiest pictures. Each sunset bringing a new unique spin on the continuous cycle.

“True. Guess we should head back inside then.” Drew hops up with a new spring in his step, tilting his head upwards at the Cliffside. “…If we can figure out how to.” A quizzical hum as he tried to figure out how to get back up.

“That you can leave to me.” A hand on his shoulder as a strange creature seemingly snaked around…leading a trail of ink in its wake.

-- “I still can’t believe that young goblin like creature thinks I have gold on me right now.” His majesty couldn’t help but continue to complain as Barry and Chris continued to sell the last remaining potions. Knowing full well that by now even Barry had gotten tired of his complaints…

However! It was all a part of his genius plan. His complaints giving him the perfect amount of time to analyse the area. See what the issue with this place truly was…So far from his surface-level observations this place seemed to be a place of anxious stimulation, as well as, being full of crooks and swindlers.

During their extensive travel across the village he found that they had been approached by a numerous amount of people who tried to sell their goods for an absolutely absurd price. Like bread, for the daft price of 500 gold.

It was rather commendable that they tried to trick people into buying that. Afterall, you have to have a certain level of confidence to even attempt that. Ed should know this, he has seen his farther brush off people hundreds of people who attempted to pull such stunts…and until recently he had been given some practice in that department. Making it significantly easier to spot the actual normal deals and the absolutely ridiculous ones.

No wonder the goblin was so hung up about debt! Easily the easiest thing to acquire.

“He’s just anxious that it’s nearing the end of the week.” Barry said counting some gold coins in his hand. “Apparently the main women in charge likes to collect debt on a Sunday.” He adds.

A brief scoff came from Ed. “And what is there to be worried about?” He mused. “Just give the money over, simple as. Debt gone.”

“…Edward I regret to inform you that debt is accumulated due to a lack of funds.” His Lord couldn’t quite believe that he had to explain this.

“…I thought you couldn’t buy anything without having the right amount of money.”

An internal face palm was all Barry’s blank expression could subtly portray. Of course Edward wouldn’t understand the concept of a lack of funds, he was the Prince of a wealthy and prosperous kingdom. Gold has never been an issue.

Chris subtly laughed. “Oh Edward, sorry but not everyone has enough money to buy things out right.” He quickly finishes an exchange with a customer for the final potion of the day. “Hence why we all don’t live in a castle, can’t afford to pay for one or keep up with the upkeep.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Ed shrugs his shoulders, glancing around before his eyes locked onto the wealthiest women that he had seen all day. “…So is that the main women in charge?” He questioned staring at the fancy pearls and expensive accessories which dawned the women.

Barry nods his head, shuddering slightly. “…I do indeed hope she doesn’t try to pay for me again.”

“Wait what-“ Ed whipped his head around, anger clearly evident on his face. “That’s absolutely disgusting! Doesn’t she know who you are!” He exclaimed outraged.

“Apparently not your highness.” He wasn’t well known anyway.

“Fine then. I shall speak to this, this fiend.” And before Chris or Barry could react the young hot headed Prince had stormed off.

The Madame of the village had just begun counting a few of the coins that where in her pockets. After spending half of the village funds on new fancy jewellery, she glanced upwards when a tall shadow was cast over her, removing the shine from her glorious pearls. At first she had a bored expression…before recognising the royal ruby nestled in the ruffled cloth.

Eyes widening in fear she soon made eye contact with Prince Edward himself.

Going pale as though she had seen a ghost, causing a confused expression upon the Prince’s face. He shouldn’t be stood before her… he was supposed to be dead, that, that was what her King had claimed (despite the lack of a body).

“Y-Your highness-” An abnormally large smile was plastered on her face as she let out a nervous laugh. “What brings you to my lovely village?” Clasping her hands tightly together in order to conceal her pearls.

Now this was more like it. Edward could only sigh. “I’ll be honest I have no idea how I got here. But! It has been brought to my attention that you tried to buy my lord, and future advisor, the other day.”

Watching as the Madame glanced over towards Barry her face elongated in a look of horror. Oh…oh dear, she has made a severe mistake. “…Lord Price.” She muttered.

“Mhm.” Edward then extended his arm. “I’d like the money that you offered for him, I know someone who needs it more then you.” He gestures for some kind of payment.

“Oh why of course your majesty.” Doing a mini courtesy as she messes around with her pockets, disappointed by the lack of weight in her pockets. However…it’s not like his majesty knew how much she offered. Laying a few measly gold coins in his hand. “That should be all.”

“…Please don’t tell me you’re being serious.” Stifling a laugh. “Hey Barry!” He calls out. “How much did she want for you?”

“150 Gold your majesty.” A victorious smirk on his face. Finally karma had come knocking.

“Well, shall we hope that those nice pearls are worth that much?” He kept his hand out, waiting for the satisfying plop of the pearls. Which came…reluctantly.

“Will that be all your highness?” She asked once again clasping her hands and grinning with falseness.

Ed nods his head. “Indeed, thank you ever so much.” Spinning around on his heel he soon met up with the other two. “Right, shall we head back then.” He wraps his arms across Chris and Barry’s shoulders. “Afterall this will hopefully be enough to satisfy the goblin.”

“We’ve sold all the potions…hopefully Nevin’s calmed down now.” Chris spoke up realizing he was intently staring in admiration at the Young Prince.

“I’m sure he has.” Chris felt a squeeze to his shoulder. “Who wouldn’t be cheered up by these anyway?” Edward continued, awfully proud of his achievement to get these from a crook.

A soft smile dawned on Chris’ face. “…Yeah.” He mutters sweetly…feeling like a character from his favourite fairy-tale. Especially as he was basically getting dragged off by Edwards enthusiastic and ambitious steps toward the Jovel home.

Which as soon as they opened the door, the house was oddly filled with excited chatter. A sharp contrast to the tension that had been present earlier. Perhaps the twins had made up? Making Ed’s job at presenting the pearls to the Goblin significantly easier.

Strutting into the kitchen with confidence practically dripping off of him, he shuts his eyes…immediately bumping into the kitchen side. Least it garnered everyone’s attention as the enthusiastic chatter calmed down…though, much to his dismay, he did hear a snort.

Clearing his throat. “Nevin-“

“Nevin’s not here.” Ah. A swift interruption, from none other than the thief. “He left just as me and Drew got back.” Isaac adds trying to stifle the laughter that was emerging.

Ed’s face soon fell, folding in on himself from embarrassment. Although he could save himself. “Drew?” He shifted his gaze to the other twin. “Do I have news for you?” He began before presenting the pearls.

“…the news is pearls?” Drew asked, finding it difficult to see the shiny pearls when his goggles where over his eyes. Soon removing them. “Where’d you get these?”

“The Madame.” Ed said proudly sitting across the table from the two.

“So the Prince can steal?” A smirk once again dawned on Isaac’s face.

Before he was also harshly interrupted when the familiar tan potion sack was thrown at his face. “He didn’t steal.” Barry adds washing his hands in the sink, before prepping some food. “Simply got a bit of money from when she tried to buy me the other day.”

“Well few bits of gold and these to make up for the rest of it.” Ed placed the few bits of gold on the table with the pearls.

An excited gasp came from Chris as he soon also placed the bag of gold from the potions on the table. A considerably louder thud. “And umm…Well quite a lot of gold from the potions.”

“Aw, thank you guys.” Drew thanked, not too bothered by the amount of gold on the table. “Nev’ll be happy with this.” He sounded…upset again. Feelings of their early ‘chat’ clearly unresolved.

A weight on his back. “See with all this gold, I still don’t get why you two don’t just take it and go. I mean I would.” Isaac further comments.

Drew simply smiles. “I know, but Nev isn’t like that.” He soon got up, hanging up his pair of wings nearby…displaying them rather proudly. “And even then the Madame isn’t exactly going to let us off easy if we do decide to leave.”

“Rob her.”

“Life isn’t just about stealing.” Barry dismissed. “Some people have morals and may want to repay debts in order to clear their conscious.” He starts chopping some vegetables.

“Sounds like something the Madame would say.” Isaac briefly rolls his eyes. “…Which has got me curious, like I’m sure it has most of us. What have you two done to get this ‘mountain of debt’?”

“It’s not like that’s a hard task, mister ‘I’ve shown up to a place for less than 5 minutes and already got in trouble with the main antagonist’.” Chris butted in causing a sharp sigh from Isaac.

“It was an accident.” He said through gritted teeth

“Well…if you’re curious.” Drew was suddenly surprised as everyone turned their head to stare at him intently. “You’re standing on it.”

Everyone glances down, being greeted only by floor.

Ed raises his head. “…So you’re in debt because of carpentry?”

“Well…the whole house.” Drew carried on. “Since…well, we didn’t have much money when we got here and Nevin really wanted to make sure we weren’t sleeping outside.” He glances out the window. “…And you can see where that got us.”

“In debt…” Edward whispered out slowly. “…Well, no need to worry small one.” Another dramatic beginning. “For once me and Price get back to our riches we shall pay you and your brother handsomely for your help.”

“Hey, like I said it’s no trouble, you don’t need to pay me and Nev anything.” Drew simply looks at their ‘home’, despite it never feeling like ‘home’… no four walls ever had. “I know this probably sounds like an odd question, but, once your guys debts are paid…where are you gonna go?”

“Honestly me and Isaac will probably head to the next town over” Chris answered as fast as possible. “..So if you have any maps around we could really use them.” He glances amongst the group.

“Maybe you can travel with us for a while.” Ed offers, much to the dismay of Barry who’s usually stoic expression faltered. “Until me and Barry figure out where we are and plan a route back. The next town over shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Isaac rolls his eyes. “Seriously? Everyone going the same way, that’s, that’s boring!” His hands tightened and moved around in a confused motion.

Soon a hand tightened around his cloak. “But it would be safer, wouldn’t it?” Chris eyes widened, hinting at him to agree. Once again the paranoia of getting hunted down and captured was plain to see. He didn’t want to take any risks. Play it safe forever.

But they simply cannot do that. He couldn’t do that.

“I suppose.” Isaac could agree for now. “…Guess us four would all be travelling to the next town over.”

“Make it 6.” Drew adds eagerly, grabbing the bagful of money. “I swear, I am going to convince Nevin to come with, leave this stupid corrupt town behind.” He held the bag up, feeling the weight of gold inside, stating that “This alone could be enough for a carriage out of here!”

They’d finally be happy again. Nevin would finally be carefree and would smile again. That’s all he wanted.

Isaac couldn’t help but chuckle. “Dunno why you’d need a carriage. There’s nothing wrong with walking.”

“And it’s free.” Barry adds as a little support for the now overly enthusiastic potion-brewer.

“That’s true!” Drew exclaimed, adjusting his goggles. “Right then! I’m gonna go convince him.” He said determined with a tight grip on the bag of gold.

“You’ve got this Drew!” Ed encouraged smiling brightly.

Upon seeing such determined looking faces Drew was only encouraged to hope for the best. Nevin hated this place just as much as he did. Hence why he never understood why Nevin would stay here. Even if it was to just pay off their debt…a debt of misery, which wasn’t worth wasting their whole lives on.

Drew began sprinting his way down the busy streets. The moon just beginning to shine above the horizon. People constantly in his way as he tried to find Nevin as soon as possible. Numerous amount of people where in his way, it was always more active at night…that’s when the more ‘risky’ items/equipment would be sold. Finding it odder and odder that Nevin wasn’t out selling potions like usual.

But he did find him…soon enough.

Coming out from the property of the Madame. Possibly having discussed more about their debt, which…would no longer be a problem.

“Nev!” He called out running as fast as he could towards him. “Nev, I’ve got good news!”

Those words didn’t register in Nevin’s head. His mind filled with the tormenting words from the conversation that reminded him of his place in the world. The threats, the bruises present on his skin, a reminder of what it meant to be ‘normal’ in this society. Whispers in his ear attempted to persuade him to take up the mantle of power.

Yet…Nevin would refuse. That magic was far too strong, he could lose himself easily. And his normal life depended on his personal resistance to the enticing and corrupt magic he could inherit…no matter how tempting it was.

Snapping out of the rampant train of thought, his vacant eyes barely meeting Drew’s.

“Nev? Hey are you okay?” The enthusiastic look swiftly shifted to concern. Drew’s warm hands on his shoulders in an attempt to get some kind of confession out of him.

“Hm? Oh yes, I’m fine.” Nevin muttered back as a response, casually brushing Drew’s hands off of him. “Just might need one of those healing potions later.” He thought of a lie on the spot. “Some guy thought our potion’s where too expensive and decided to kick me to the ground.”

Drew’s eyes went wide with worry. “Wait hold on who?”

“Just some random person, probably a traveller, we won’t find them again.” Nevin only continued to explain away while pulling Drew away from that mansion. Her prying eyes clearly watching their actions…her minions in the alleyways just nearby. “…So, you said you had good news?” Nevin decided to change the subject, as while he had not heard Drew mention the ‘good news’…someone was always listening.

Drew’s demeanour didn’t seem as enthusiastic as it once was. “…Well, good news in terms of a hopefully good idea.” A shy smile spread across his face.

“What do you mean by that?” Nevin inquired. “Well let’s hear it, long as it doesn’t involve blowing up the basement.” He jokes.

“…Nev, let’s get out of here.” As Drew spoke he instantly held the bag of gold towards Nevin. “I mean this already has enough gold for us and everyone in our home to afford a carriage.” He spoke as fast as he could, casting his idea out into the wind before Nevin could have a chance to refute it.

Unaware someone else would enter the conversation…crushing the idea.

“Gold you say?” A loud booming voice erupted from the dark dingy alleyway. Ah, the debt collectors, more specifically the stall owner. “And you’re planning on using it to run away?”

Nevin quickly grabbed hold of the bag and Drew. “No we’re not, just a silly discussion.” He quickly says.

“I don’t know about that, seemed like you were considering it for a brief moment.” The stall market’s accomplish dawned his mask and emerged from the darkness of the opposing alleyway. “Why would you want to leave here? This place is wonderful.”

“…I know it may appear that way, but, we would really like to go away and explore the world a little more.” Drew answered hesitantly trying to think of what words to say. “Ya know, we’re young and want to get out there.”

“Exactly.” Nevin backs Drew up. Taking quick steps to avoid the possible grabbing off the two henchmen. “…But it’s just a silly dream. We’ll just try and pay off the debts properly before we properly consider this idea.” He continued.

“Then you won’t mind if we take this gold and deliver it to the Madame right away.” The masked man extended his arm. “That young Prince you’re housing did take her pearls earlier, so, some compensation would be nice…”

“…I see.” Nevin muttered, opening the bag and seeing said pearls inside. His resentment for that rich Prince only growing. “I sincerely apologise for the inconvenience.” He couldn’t have that debt go up anymore. Therefore, he handed the gold bag back without much fight.

Drew on the other hand swiped the bag back. “No. Ed only got this money because she tried to buy Barry! And even then, you wouldn’t want to upset a Prince would you? You could be in a lot of trouble if you upset him.” He held the bag close to his chest.

“Drew just give him the bag.” Nevin said.

“I’m not-”

“Drew give it.” Nevin only got more anxious. Watching as the Stall owner crept behind his twin. Making the threats of harm to his dear brother ever more real, the consequences of not paying his debt even realer. “Now.” He said harshly. The colour teal ripped throughout the area reflecting off of the streetlamps.

Drew dropped the bag in alarm, precious gold coins falling out as Nevin marched over and grabbed his arm, dragging him away from the vultures that stole their precious cargo. The gold that was supposed to afford their carriage-ride out of there. Drew hardly had time to defy what was going on as Nevin sped away.

Upon reaching the hill to their home Nevin paused.

“…The debt’s due tomorrow.” He quietly spoke, shame clearly in his voice. “…And we simply don’t have enough to leave here. That Madame won’t let us at this point.” Nevin sighs.

Drew shook his head. “Nev, we could literally leave tonight and she wouldn’t have a clue!” He argued back. “Could hide in the back of a carriage, or just run through the forest where we get our ingredients!”

“I know. I know we could do that.” They could, it would be so easy. “But I want us to have a normal life.”

Drew clenched his hands into fists. “Nev this isn’t normal!”

“Everyone here has debt and can’t leave, we’re normal like them.” He snapped back. “…Let’s just get inside now, brace for tomorrow.” That bag of gold would’ve secured the payment…

Drew stayed behind for a few paces. “…I don’t want to be normal anymore…”

“You do. You just don’t know that yet.”

Nevin knew that all too well.

Normality what was they needed, in order to be safe, hiding away from people who would hunt them down for the rest of their lives if they knew of their curses. They had escaped that once…

And Nevin would rather die than allow that to happen again.

Hence why he will pay that debt. No matter how much it was. It will be paid…by any means necessary.

#ibvs #ibvs au #Isaac Beamer and the Realm of Fantasy #Isaac Beamer #Chris Jackson #Nevin Jovel #Drew Jovel #Barry Price #Edward Quinton #chapter update

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naluriswrites · 2 years

Text

Take me to your palace

Dream of the Endless x Original Female Character

Summary: Certain beings are out of Dream’s radar. Kallan is one of them and after meeting her by accident, it wasn’t surprising when she became the target of his curiosity.

Author Notes: Hi, hello. Heck, I'm nervous.

Kallan is my OC that I created for the Sandman’s universe and there is a lot to develop about her and her family (so there's a universe extension). So, welcome to a series that I call “writing original characters in universes that I love till have enough to write a full story with them”. I know, it’s a long title.

I wrote after watching the sixth episode, so it’s placed right after Dream’s arrival to speak to Hob. However, I haven't finished the series, so if there's some kind of "canon divergency", my apologies.

This is the first thing I wrote in English (that I1m proud of). So, if it's weird in any way, I'm sorry :/. I'll probably write more with Kallan (I didn't continue because I just wanted to see how my writing would go, so let me know what you guys think!

Anyhow, I hope you like this!

★・・・・・・・★・・・・・・・・★

Dream walked in the bar, fashionably late — just a couple of hundred years. His attention was fully on listening and paying attention to Hob's news. The voices echoing around the new version of a tavern that is centuries old. Something about that encounter was nostalgic, good enough to remind him of his old habits. It almost felt like it should happen everyday — and something inside him wouldn’t complain about doing that more often than a hundred years. Sometimes his duty was… Lonely.

She appeared out of nowhere, dressing in a white uniform and with a bright smile. She catches his eye without any effort, when approached the table next to theirs. He followed her movements, watched as she walked graciously around the saloon, so delicately that it should’ve grabbed everyone’s attention. Was he the only one who saw the way she practically danced around the tables like a ballerina in a scenario that didn’t suit her.

“Did the waitress grab your focus?” Hob asked with a chuckle. Only then, he realised the contortion to follow the woman around the bar. Dream kept his silence, staring at the man in front of him.

The King of Dreams took a deep breath, staring at the other tables for a brief second. He knew everything he had to know about those people, they’re dreams floated around them like neon signs. The waitress appeared once again, leaving in front of a couple pieces of cake and coffee mugs. Weird, he remembered that place only serving beer and lamb. She didn’t have any information, it felt like she was blocked from his own mind.

“The last time you did this, you turned someone into one of the biggest dramatists mankind had,” Hob joked, shaking his head to the sides. He thought of telling that to Hob. He could trust him, couldn’t he? Tell him more than the vague words he used to tell the man. That’s what friends do, after all. And he was waiting for an answer.

“You can ask me about anyone here and I’ll answer where they came from and their dreams,” Dream sneaked a glance to the woman rushing towards the other extreme of that bar. “Anyone, but her. I have no clue who she is.”

Hob stood silent, taking that information bit by bit. Soon, an idea shone upon his face, and a smirk drew itself with the thought. He was confident, which scared Morpheus of what was coming their way.

“Excuse me!” He called out loud, to the woman who was passing by. Dream slowly raised his eyebrows, his gazing moving from the man in front of him to the woman who approached their table.

He had seen her before. Somewhere he didn’t quite remember. The memory of their encounter was blurred and distant, lost in the dunes of the past. It felt like something was trying to keep him in the dark. Even if he had the vague thought of already seeing her, or some younger version, walking in his realm, he still didn’t know who she was. Frustrating.

She smiled softly, standing between them.

“What can I do for you gentlemen today?” She asked politely, her voice felt like velvet, and it was… Tempting. She had a strong accent, not from that land. Perhaps she was from the north. Dream stared at her name tag on the left side of her white uniform shirt. Kallan. He had an idea from where she came, the north, but it was too indeterminate. And he was curious.

“I’m almost pretty sure that I’ve seen you before,” Hob said, eying the other man in front of him. “Could it be from college, maybe? I’m a professor.”

She frowned, trying to search his face in her memories.

“Well, I’m currently taking some English classes in West London College.”

“Oh, that’s where I work. I probably have seen you around the corridors,” she smiled, nodding. Morpheus wondered if it was true, if Hob had really seen her around the college he worked. Maybe not, maybe it was just a lie to get to know anything about her… To help Dream solve the enigma beside them.

“Well, are you guys going to order anything?”

“I’ll have just a beer, please,” she quickly noted the order on her notepad and raised her eyes to Dream. And the world stopped for a moment.

Maybe the blocking got weaker as she stared at him for long seconds. He saw deep in her soul. Pitch black, unlike her bright green eyes. Yet, within all the darkness he could easily see, he did see light blighting everything inside her, pulsing in her heart, making her eyes sparkle in an electric way.

No, he didn’t know who she was, but he knew she was conflictive… In a dangerously curious way.

“I’ll have water, please,” she cleared her throat, nodding with her head. As soon as she left, he turned back to Hob, but his thoughts followed her around.

“Anything?” Hob seemed euphoric. Morpheus gave him a confident smirk.

“A point to start.”

— ¨ —

My heart was still skipping beats with the unexpected encounter.

Sandman, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless.

My mind spun around him all day. I was raised knowing about his existence, but never wanted to be around him. My father used to say it was the same as losing track of time, getting hypnotised and losing the control over your own mind. And after what happened with us centuries ago, staying in the same place as an Endless was too much for me. I have them burnt in my mind, like a white dress with a perpetual wine stain.

I hate to admit it, but I'm sure I'm between friends. So, here it goes:

I feared Morpheus with every inch of my body.

Well, yes, I was raised among “boogie-men” and such, but he was… Different. I feared more the things he could do to me than what he was. And seeing him in front of me, with his clear blue eyes reading my soul like someone reads a book written by a child, made me panic. One thing is to compose love and give it to other people; watching them grow from a distant point of view, far from their reality. Another one, completely different, is to see one of those people who always had unfortunate loves right in front of you. He’s one of those people.

The good side — if there was any — was this: I wasn’t headed to the palace. He was ten times stronger than us; he could tear everything down with the blink of an eye if he wanted to. So, if it was to be punished for God knows what, then I’d prefer to not put anyone in danger.

The goosebumps got worse as I approached my apartment. It was signal coming from the depths of my inner darkness; there was dangerous light around. I could've turned away and run for the hills, but I knew that as soon as I gave in to sleep, he'd find me. So, I turned the lock open, threw my shoes to the side and closed the door behind me. The small living room only had its darkness broken by the city lights. My eyes, used to the dark, scanned the place. Didn't take me long to see his silhouette watching me on the other side of the living room.

My body shivered. He knew she was out of the other humans. “People” like him knew exactly how to search for anomalies among men and would treat all of them with harshness.

Yes, I was expecting the worst.

“I can see you,” I blurted quietly, trying to sound confident. I was, indeed, fearful, but hope is the last one to leave its box. And even if he was the only being in the universe that could kill me and make me stay dead, I was trying my best to keep my mind entertained with the hope running through my veins.

“I know.”

His voice… His goddamn voice is something else. Deep, low. I don’t know if he made it echo in the living room or if it was my sharp hearing, but I could easily hear him. A voice that invites you to sleep, to have a dream in his arms. However, the fear rang in my head, reminding me of the tales, of the past bad experiences I had with his kind.

Keep your reasoning.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know who you are.”

“I’m Kallan.” I answered a truth he didn’t want to hear just to prolong my time thinking of better ways to avoid blurting everything out, it wasn't just me who could get affected with it. Within seconds I understood that his silence ordered the right answer. “The humans like to call me Eros… Or Cupid.”

My voice reverbed in the dark space between us. I felt his gaze turn darker, angry. Viktor was right, we shouldn’t have messed with the Endless, especially Morpheus. I heard he was merciless with certain things and probably that was one of the things.

I wanted to turn myself into darkness and leave the apartment, but I knew it’d be useless.

“You…”

I knew how his relationship with love was. Not good; everything ended in tragedy. And it wouldn’t surprise me if he saw me as the guilty one. Everyone blamed me for their unfortunate loves. It’s better to blame me than acknowledge their own mistakes.

I try my best for all the loves around the world. I swear. I’m hopeful, everyone deserves a chance to be successful in love, everyone deserves to love and be loved… But Morpheus was a difficult type, he didn’t seem to even want to collaborate with love, which turned my task terribly tough to handle. I hate to see my creations failing. I hate to feel that I am a failure.

I tried so many times that I can't even count on my fingers. Rejection after rejection. "Stop being so stubborn. He doesn't want it" Thomas used to say when he caught me late at night, trying to figure out a way to make him... Give up. Yes, it became a competition with myself to see if I could do it.

“That’s not all,” his raspy voice, more like a nightmare now, called back to the world and the situation between us. “Tell me, what are you? What kind of creature are you?”

A half-Watcher, a child born between thunders, someone who could walk through light and dark. Not a human being, not a Watcher. Dangerous, untameable, unstable. A creature who never knew peace in my life, it was always fighting, running, hiding. A creature who only knows how to be hunted, hated and feared.

“Why should I tell you?” Now, my voice sounded angrier than I wanted it to be. I was defending myself, trying to find a way to give him a bad time in his possible attempt to terminate me.

He approached like in a dream — obviously. In a moment he was by the corridor that lead to the rooms, in the other he was a foot apart from me. I could feel his breath in my face, his eyes piercing mine to get to my soul to get the information out without any more questions. Why was he so invested about knowing about me, anyway? Why only now? My existence predates the Greeks, why now?

“I’m the King of Dreams and Nightmares. I need to know if a rogue is between humans. Dressing up as love and eating their fear.”

“I’m not a rogue. And I’m not dressing up as love. I project love, and I help them.”

Yes, that pissed me off.

“You help them by hurting them?” That sounded more like a personal offence than a genuine concern about humans.

“The love I give you doesn’t hurt, because love doesn't hurt. Still, once it’s given, it’s yours. I can’t control what you do with it.”

He stood quiet, angry. I felt anger running through my body. I felt it wasn’t enough.

“I need to know the other parts you’re hiding.”

“Why? I’m not a danger to society, if that’s what you’re asking.” That’s a lie. Even with light, I have darkness within me. I am a danger to society. But isn’t life a danger to everyone? “Besides, if you want to kill me you can do it without all of this… Questioning thing. I’m not strong enough to fight with an Endless.”

There was a pause, longer than the others. I was out of breath after my arguments. He was searching for another way, now that he saw that I wasn’t going to give in.

“If you’re really Eros, then you will allow the King of Dreams to visit your palace.”

Bastard. I was left without a choice, if I didn’t do it, he was going to take me with him and the last thing I wanted was to be a prisoner to another Endless.

Or he was bluffing, but I couldn't play with that card. If he wasn't bluffing, then I was going to be a prisoner in a golden cell. And Thomas, a vengeful spirit, would try to destroy bit by bit of the Dreaming Realm. 1) I can't risk losing my brother again. 2) Unlike Morpheus, I understand his value to humanity, even if he hates me. I highly doubt Thomas would destroy everything, but he'd cause a good damage.

“With one condition. You don’t get to destroy us when you get there.”

He leaned in, his face getting dangerously close to mine. An almost invisible smirk shone in his face with defiance. He didn’t believe I had a palace, apparently. I could bite him. I could punch him. However, my arms were glued like stone.

“I won’t, Eros.”

“Promise me.”

A pause. Long, torturing. He sighed, fixing his posture, his eyes still on my face. Bastard. His smirk disappeared, he stayed back on his serious look. I tried to breath, but it felt like air was too heavy for my lungs.

“I promise that I will not destroy your palace, Cupid.”

“Fine. Tommorrow, at night. Don't be late, I won't wait for you.”

And he disappeared into the darkness, leaving me breathless in my living room. I forced a glance towards the clock hung on the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen. Hours had passed us by.

My father was right, as always. Time doesn't move around Morpheus.

#the sandman #morpheus x oc #oc #morpheus #female oc #universe expansion #dream of the endless

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theshy1sout · 3 years

Text

Six Eared Shadow

Do you remember the analysis about Mei and Red Son? That was me, and I'm doing this again, but now about Macaque and Sun Wukong

Because what the heck why do they hate each other so much

Ok, so this... This is such a messy chaotic really chaotic mix of a few headcanons and theories I made up and it SOMEHOW turned into a fanfic that I wrote so long that other people made many similar things in meanwhile and now this sounds not original at all, but I wrote it not to keep it in my deep hidden shelf so here we go

(It's based on what I know from the lmk series. I've started to read JTTW, but I'm still not so far to get to know anything about Macaque, but I won't change anything about this theory from now on)

Let's gather some basic information for the start.

-> Macaque is made with a shadow or even he is a shadow (kinda shadow demon, the demon of shadow). I mean, shadow is not only his power, he literally is made with shadow matter. We know that because he can not only manipulate shadows but also go through walls and turn yourself into a shadow.

-> I'm not sure if someone made him or he just "poof" out of nowhere just like Sun Wukong, but according to the story he told about how close he and Monkey King used to be, there's no doubt they had some master/student relationship which later turned into almost equal partnership. What is said, Macaque followed Sun Wukong for a long time, learning a lot from him, 'being his shadow'. They grew in power together, fought together, and (as it is said) Macaque started casting as Sun Wukong shadow, which (surprisingly) looks like he did willingly. Just look at the picture - the shadow is big and bright, it’s powerful and smiling, proud of his strength. He doesn’t look like someone forced to be Sun Wukong’s shadow. It shows how much Macaque admired Monkey King, that he wasn't just a friend for him, he was his idol.

-> We all know Macaque is a shadow demon, he can easily change his appearance, he does not have to look like an evil clone of Monkey King, especially if he hates him now or something, SO even if he used to look up at Sun as his ex-student or ex-partner, and now we know he is NOT, he would prefer to not look so similar any more.

He can choose any other look, but he doesn't. Why? Well, maybe he actually cannot. Maybe this isn't an appearance he has specifically chosen, maybe this is his 'basic' comfy form and any other form would just take too much energy to keep up. And looking at the really tiny probability of two very similar monkeys just "poofing" out of nowhere, I dare to say, Macaque wasn't born (I mean like Sun Wukong or any other demon), but he was specifically created. And here is a question: on someone's purpose or not? Maybe the power of great Monkey King was so strong so the part of it just jumped from him and formed into another similar creature, but let me say it's just weird and I prefer the theory of Sun Wukong being so bored and lonely after his master's (Tripitaka) death, and he created a brother for himself from his own shadow. Just to have someone, anyone.

So Wukong created Macaque and then what? He trained him, he taught him everything he knew, maybe even he shared his powers with him. Some great great bonding time. But as Macaque said, something drew them apart. It is visible that Macaque blamed Monkey King for this, for 'forgetting him'. Before speculation of what happened then between them, let's focus on what Macaque showed us what he wants now.

We have two episodes, both show different sides of him. In season 1, Macaque's main goal is to steal Monkey King's power from Mk, and then to very specifically revenge. He visibly does not want to defeat Sun Wukong, he wants to hurt him as much as possible. Look: when Monkey King showed up, Macaque totally forgot about Mk. And then, when he's so close to defeat him, instead of that he turned to Mk and tried to kill the teenager. Mk is just a tool to hurt Sun Wukong.

And we can't forget how Macaque constantly pointed out all the weak sides of Sun, he's basically just saying on and on "you're weak, you're weak, you're so weak, I'm so strong, I'm strong, you are so weak". Which really fits the feeling of being forgotten because he was weaker and Monkey King was stronger, better, glorious and famous. Macaque really feels like that, he really tried to make Sun Wukong feel his pain by dominating him.

On the other hand, we see that Sun constantly striked off him. He said almost nothing to him, just "Aren't you bored of keep being in my shadow? It's time to give back what you've stolen" and that was fricking all. For Monkey King, Macaque is a just shadow, always behind him, something you turn around and leave behind to not see it and to forget, like an unwanted past. An unnecessary problem, that irritatingly keeps returning to him. He does not want to interact to not make even a slight more bond between them, he wants to delete him from his life forever, and omg WHY. At this end of the ep, Sun Wukong did not even mention Macaque. He really doesn't care at all (or extremely tries to not care). His HATE is almost touchable, ouch.

In season 2, Sun Wukong LEFT US ALL ALONE. Macaque showed up again, he played with Mk a bit, and... Left? That's the thing, you see, he doesn't need to hurt or kill Mk. All we see is Macaque talking about his past and then letting Mk experience something the 'hero' in the story should have felt. The guilt. When Mk interpreted his story differently, seeing himself as the warrior, Macaque corrected him. Cause he doesn't care about Mk at all. He heard how Mk told him about what hurt him, and here is a funny point, because if Macaque needs to be understood, listening to Mk and talking with him (such a simple act of empathy, they both needed it then, guh) should have been enough. Mk really felt the 'warrior' character in the story, so he understood what Macaque felt. But surprisingly, that was not what the demon carved.

Macaque chose to make Mk feel like Monkey King at the moment something drew the demons apart. He wanted to force Mk to be sorry, to apologize, to regret his mistakes, cause he failed with forcing Monkey King to feel that. But! Maybe he is not as purely innocent and poorly forlorn. We see the flashback for a half of second before Mk hit him with Staff:

We see Sun Wukong attacking Macaque who's in his demon (true) form.

Let's repeat this: Macaque felt as if a friend left him in the past. He said a friend did this to have all the "hero's glory" for themselves. We know Sun Wukong could do such a thing, especially before he met Tripitaka, but 1. In my theory Macaque is created after Tripitaka's death and 2. If (as my theory said) Sun created Macaque to not feel so lonely, he would never leave him for such a thing. So Macaque hides something for sure, something he did, something so terrible that made Sun Wukong attack him and not want to know him anymore. How horrendous thing Macaque did that made Sun Wukong choose to be alone again and to forget his dear brother he created by himself?

Back to the great bonding time, repeating speculation of "oh maybe they even share the powers" and comparing it to Macaque wanting to steal Mk's power, my theory here is saying:

Sun Wukong taught Macaque the technique of the same powers as he knew, but Macaque overused it (probably wanting to see how powerful he is, probably showing off and killing so many harmless people) doing terrible terrible things. So Monkey King took all of the powers from him and left him alone, powerless, with the last painful words: "Dont you dare to show in front of my eyes ever again". Of course Macaque was hurt, of course he didn't see why he's the bad guy, because he did not care about people at all. And of course Sun Wukong was hurt too.

Maybe he came back to the village Macaque had destroyed and following a quiet crying he found a little baby with a heart so clear and he put into him all Macaque's powers, making them sleep until the time will be right... But back to the series!

Yes exactly. Why did he destroy the lantern and leave? Why did he suddenly lose interest in teasing Mk and stop forcing him to feel guilty?

First thing, he saw Mk is ready to fight for his friends seriously. He still cared so much about them, not like Monkey King about Macaque. That was hard to swallow, that was hard to watch for the demon. That was't the thing he wanted to see. And second, the flashback. Maybe the sudden realization that he actually did something bad. Cause Sun Wukong didn’t just leave him, he cast him out. It was hard to admit that he actually deserved this (or maybe much more), it’s much easier to blame others, not yourself. So Macaque felt “that’s enough” and left. Mk brought him to this uncomfortable point of admitting the truth. Which he didn’t want to. Maybe in the following eps, he will see it, but now Macaque just isn’t ready yet. But the last talk with Mk gives me a little hope. He stopped treating him like a tool or toy, he was actually talking with him like with a person, he even warned him about Lady Bone Demon.

Maybe (maybe) one day he'll see that humans aren't just useless creatures he can carelessly kill, maybe Mk will make him care and realize what he's done, but that's just speculation in speculation, he could die before he reaches that point, maybe he is already dead....

And that's it. That is all I wrote on ao3, but in the fanfic I put much more details and I build those characters up much more than here. This is only rough rough short-saying, I'm really sorry if you read it all

Oh and here is a link if you liked this above i'd love if you read the fanfic thank you

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sirfrogsworth · 3 years

Text

I had a doozy of a day yesterday.

First, I strained my neck really bad. Which is some real malarky because I wasn't even doing anything strenuous. It's like I turn 40 and my body starts randomly attacking me. I could barely turn my head most of the day. It took hours to find one body position and head angle that wasn't torture. Then I had to freeze myself in that position most of the day and not move an inch.

Thankfully my neck was much better when I woke up this morning. I don't know how, because I have the most un-ergonomic sleeping positions.

Maybe it was the neck gods granting me mercy or maybe it was this weird topical cream my mom gave me.

I don't know where they find the super strong blue emus for this stuff, or what dastardly experiments they are doing to create super-emus, but I'm worried if they aren't careful, there will be another Emu war.

I do not want to fight Captain Emurica, The First Emuvenger.

I'm quite worried I rubbed bits of Captain Emurica's father on my neck and he might be pissed about that.

(How great is Chris's artwork btw?)

Unfortunately the neck pain and emus weren't what made it such a carbuncle of a day.

(Katrina drew me this during the infamous back hole incident.)

My anxiety and anger were through the roof and I could not get to sleep no matter how sleepy I was.

I'm just worried about my parents.

So...

I need to rant about something using vagueries and faux salty language.

I apologize for not naming names and detailing details, but the context clues might be enough to suss it out.

Also, I really wish I was good at profanity and I didn't feel latent programmed Catholic guilt every time I curse. Because if anything deserves to be laced with f*cking f*cky f*cks... it is this post.

A few... outside elements... that have barely been a part of our lives... and don't know anything about our family unit...

They are suggesting these huge, crazy, ridiculous life changes for us.

I mean, gee whiz, they are suggesting these things before my dad has even started his gosh dang rehab.

Why in the heckin' world would you stress someone the heck out, who is trying his heckest to stay hecking positive and heal, with conversations about changing everything about their hecking life?

Why in the ever-loving heckity-heck would you instill a huge worry and anxiety in someone who has at least a month of grueling physical therapy and dialysis treatments ahead of him?

READ THE HECKING ROOM.

Like, maybe that can wait until my dad can walk to the hecking bathroom on his own again.

Jesus Hecking Christ.

It just makes me super-strength-emu mad they decided to suggest these things without even having a monkeyfighting conversation with me first.

Like I don't even frakking exist in this scenario. It would completely change my living situation too. It could make me homeless for Baby Jesus' sake. My disability isn't nearly enough to pay rent. I would need like, 40 roommates.

I would need to join a cult I guess.

Which sucks because they don't even give you *real* murder Kool-Aid. People always say "Don't drink the Kool-Aid!" but Jim Jones was a cheapskate and got fatherflorping Flavor Aid.

I mean, Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, if I'm going out... I want the real stuff.

You know what. I know my value.

Kool-Aid isn't good enough for me either.

I want Wild Cherry Capri Sun in that little aluminum foil bag that you can never get the straw into.

For Merlin's beard's sake, the fact that these outside elements didn't recognize how stressed we all are already, and that it was incredibly bad timing to bring up uprooting everything in our lives right now, shows that they don't understand our living situation in the first goldarn place.

They don't know all of the solutions we've implemented to adapt to new circumstances. They don't know that I can cook 3 things now. They don't know the plans we've made to further adapt our lives.

They just swoop in and think they know what is best for us.

Well, for my parents.

Again, I was not considered.

At all.

So I had to help put out this anxiety fire for my parents and tell them they just needed to focus on getting my dad through rehab.

For now, that is our *only* focus.

We need to do one thing at a time and that is step 1.

And probably step 2, 3, 4, 12, 18 and however many steps it is from his reclining chair to the bathroom.

If anyone tries to talk about plans beyond that, I told my parents to just say, "Right now we are focusing on rehabilitation and will not be discussing anything else."

Just keep repeating that word for word.

I told them no matter how many times they bring it up or how hard people attempt to steer the conversation, cut them off and say that until they get the drift.

As far as the rehab goes, my dad is making progress.

*Slow* progress.

The kind of progress that is two steps forward and one step back. And sometimes the reverse of that. And sometimes involves that exact amount of physical steps.

Sometimes success doesn't happen in a straight line. Sometimes is it more... fractal. And complicated. And successes get all divided and loop de loopy.

These past 2 weeks have been especially hard for him. They actually sent him to a rehab place once already. They decided to send him to a very local one because they thought it would be more convenient for us to visit him.

They are *terrible* about notifying us about any of these decisions. I asked several doctors to call us with updates. And one doctor did call us twice—but all he did was literally read my dad's chart to us. No prognosis. No assessment of how he was doing. Just a bunch of medical-ese about his kidney function and whatnot.

The thing is, if they *had* notified us, we could have told them we can't actually visit him because we are disabled and have no transportation and it's the middle of a monkeyfighting pandemic and we can't risk it anyway.

Visitation shouldn't have been a factor in where they sent him.

And it extra fudging sucks that we can't be at the hospital and talk with the doctors in person. It seems they can only give you attention for the 2 minutes they are in the room. My dad is not in a state of mind to be making big decisions—but most of the hospital staff don't care about that. The nurses try their best when we call, but they are knee-deep in COVID during all of this.

A grand total of one person had the presence of mind to get our permission to start him on dialysis because he was too confused to make that decision on his own.

Usually they just barge into his room with a clipboard and are all... "Sign here and go here."

So this was a problem when they basically chose the rehab facility for him because, well...

We live in a not-so-great area.

Most folks around here are poor like us.

Businesses don't want to be around this area. Even the fast food places are shutting down. One Pizza Hut is now an abandoned lot because no one wants to buy a building with such a distinct roof. And the next nearest Pizza Hut refuses to deliver to our address because they don't think it is safe. But our street is isolated and very safe. I mean, we've had a few burglaries over the years, but so do fancy places. They are making heist movies all the time of rich people getting robbed. And even though the website lets us order and says we are in the delivery radius, they keep calling and cancelling our order—making up excuses like "We don't deliver past the train tracks."

What I'm trying to say is... because the facility was in our area, it was pretty terrible.

Like, 1.0 stars terrible.

They just aren't given the resources to run it properly anymore. Elderly care facilities should be subsidized and staffed with medical professionals. Not Zev and his marketer. They didn't even have a single nurse on staff there.

And the hospital just sent him there without consulting me or my mom. I did not have the chance to do any research before they carted him off.

Because of this (this is where things get a lot less humorous) he was sent to a place where they were borderline abusive.

Or maybe just regular abusive. I don't know.

The world doesn't give a shiitake mushroom about the sick and the elderly and this place was a manifestation of that.

They didn't have a bed ready when he got there. He didn't have a TV for 2 days. He didn't have a room phone. They lost his phone charger. He was out of contact and alone for over a day before we could replace it. The food was rubber. My dad had trouble swallowing said rubber food. When he asked for a snack instead, they told him "Just eat it." He explained he had an actual medical issue with swallowing. They said "You can do it." and left the room. Several times when he asked for help they just told him "No."

My dad said he felt like he was in jail. He was scared and frustrated and unable to do any healing. It all came to a head and at one point he got so angry and confused that he called the police. They came and interviewed him and the staff.

Sadly, the cops didn't care or do anything.

The next day when he was at dialysis a nurse noticed he had a small bleeding issue and they had to admit him back to the hospital.

This turned out to be kind of a blessing in disguise.

He was able to get better treatment at the hospital and we were given time to find a better place for him to heal.

When my brother went to the old rehab place to collect my dad's belongings they "lost" his electric razor and his suitcase was severely damaged. We are pretty sure this was retaliation for my dad calling the police.

So... he won't be going back there.

We decided since we can't visit him anyway to send him to the rehab place *not* in our immediate area.

Basically... we are sending him where the rich folks live. (That is still covered by our insurance.)

The pictures online look much nicer than the other place and my brother toured the place beforehand. The reviews are in the 4 to 5 star range.

As far as my dad's current condition... he is able to stand up right now. Which may not sound like a lot—but is a good sign. He was too weak for that even just a few days ago.

Every journey begins with a minor bleeding issue that resets your journey to a place where you can start your new journey with a single step.

Or something.

Journey 2.0.

They also installed a defibrillating pacemaker to upgrade his old pacemaker. (He also has a titanium hip. What percentage is necessary to officially become a cyborg?) His heart doctor said it really helped and his heart is already stronger. And the dialysis is going well too. The kidney doctor said he may not need it as much as they initially planned—but for right now it is 3 times a week.

His brain is so much clearer now and his confusion seems limited to just after waking up. I can tell just by the tone of his voice that his cognitive function has improved significantly. I can have a normal conversation with him now and he seems very lucid.

Lucid enough to complain about hospital food again.

Before he was so confused he thought his dreams were real. He kept telling us the FBI was there and investigating a bomb threat.

"Dad, you dreamed that." "No, they showed me their badge and everything."

So him being grumpy about a real problem instead of Mulder & Scully in bomb disposal outfits was a pretty big deal and lifted a lot of anxiety from the shoulders of my brain.

I'm hopeful if he can stick it out for a month or so in rehab, he can have a somewhat comfortable life again.

He can come home, sit in his cliché leather reclining chair that all dads seem to end up with, and watch his John Wayne movies.

I spent two weeks scouring the seediest places on the internet (torrenters will get that pun) trying to collect as many Marion Morrison movies as I could find. I ended up finding 104 masterpieces of masculinity.

I even found that terrible, terribly racist Genghis Khan movie where like 40 people died of cancer because Howard Hughes told them to film next to an atomic bomb testing site.

That's all he really wants.

Well, maybe not that movie specifically.

I added that as a joke.

But all of the other ones with horses and big hats and six-shooters...

That's all he really needs.

And maybe a ride to dialysis 3 times a week.

Okay... so... his chair, John Wayne movies, and reliable transportation.

*That's* all he really needs.

I just wish certain people were more motivated to help make that happen for him instead of sticking him somewhere he doesn't fucking want to be.

Pardon my goddamn fucking French.

#long post

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mellowshipsu · 2 years

Note

hi can i get an mc ship? thx! (I’m not projecting onto some emo isekai rat I made what are you talking about)

So my mc is a sleep deprived sarcastic prick with a soft squishy inside. They make a noticeable effort to be as strange and off putting as possible in an attempt to keep people from harassing them (can’t scare them away with magical prowess or scary appearances, gotta seem completely insane ig) They’re an artist and their sketches are full of some weird interpretations of their classmates. Probably some amogus versions of the boys. They try to make themselves seem like an open book, joking about their more surface level issues, but they have a lot of trouble truly opening up. They care a lot for those around them despite the passive aggressive act, and don’t want people to worry.

Anyways thx, hope you have a great day ^^

Strange and mysterious you may be.

He is not intimidated by you one bit.

You may act rash and mean.

He'll be there to take a hit.

But if he dodges you'll take a bite.

He'll make fun and he will tease.

Making you two playfully fight.

He's the one for you, the sly---

Ruggie Bucchi!

(image by: ikathousandflowers)

Shihihi! What an interesting person you are. Ruggie first noticed you sleep deprived sitting under a tree, one of Leona's favorite napping spots. He noticed you were drawing something, so he decided to go around to sneak up on you to see what you drew. He saw you draw a whole bunch of one-eyed spacemen things. He didn't really understand what the heck it was, but he's no artist. You seemed to sense someone behind you and turned your head to see Ruggie. How impressive! You detected a carnivore! Good for you! Then to his surprise, you hissed at him. He was quiet for a moment before busting a gut laughing, oh you were interesting.

So from that day, Ruggie chose to mess with you to see your cute reactions.

In class you were sketching with a lead pencil, so when you weren't looking he switched the regular lead with red lead. Which made you make a displeased face. Shihihi! When Ruggie was in line to get a meat cutlet for Leona, you purposely bought the last three, took a bite out of them in front of him and threw them in the trash. Ahahaha! You were walking in the courtyard and he used his signature spell to control your body and made you jump in the school's fountain. Shihihi! You snuck into Savanaclaw when Ruggie was washing Leona's clothes and tripped him, dirtying the fresh clean clothes. Ahahaha!

You two had a prank war for weeks, but it always seemed fun. You two would walk pass each other at school with mischevious smiles, thinking about the next pranks you had in store for each other.

Then one day, a group of Savannah students decided to bully you for some reason. Most likely because you were strange. Maybe because you stepped on someone's tail without apologizing. Ruggie didn't really know. But when he saw them push you, Ruggie rushed over and bared his fangs at them with a growl. His hair stood up and he looked absolutely feral. "Back off, they're mine!" He growled which made the students back up a bit before walking away. The hyena calmed down and turned his gaze at you. He apologized about the students and if he scared you. You said no but asked what he meant when you were 'his'. He just blushed and looked away shyly, "You know... like only I can annoy you." You simply told him that you had the same feelings, no one can mess with him but you. The two of you had goofy smiles and chuckled, it was a weird way to proclaim your love for each other.

"Ooo, someone's grumpy. I take care of Leona, you think you can scare me? Shihihi! Think again, I like annoying you."

#ruggie x mc #mellowshipsu #mellowshipsyou #mellowshipsyuu #twst #twisted wonderland #anonship #twisted oc #oc x canon #ruggie bucchi

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bbysamu · 3 years

Text

Bandaid

Like I need U series

⭑ part II ⭑

part I ; part III

⭑ Song: Bandaid by Keshi

⭑ Warning: Minor angst

⭑ Pairing: Oikawa x f!reader (slight Tsukishima mention)

Tag list (by request - thank you all for your support): @nachotrash; @whateverfeelz

Oikawa Toru, renowned pretty boy of Aoba Johsai, captain of the volleyball team is known for several things: his fluffy brown hair, charming smile, charismatic personality and killer volleyball skills.

Less known for his hard work ethic, love for aliens, and crush on one of the Karasuno’s volleyball manager.

It was a Tuesday, Iwaizumi had texted the captain reminding him of a practice match with Karasuno, where Tobio Kageyama was currently setter. All day Oikawa had been looking forward to this practice match, where he could see Kageyama again to see if Oikawa is still the better setter. After all, he’s been working so hard to make sure he can beat Kageyama. So despite being placed on a break by his coach, Oikawa was sure nothing could stop him from at least playing a little bit in the match.

When Oikawa arrived, he stood at the door, watching the match, in which Karasuno was currently leading. Annoyed, he did a quick survey of the team. Sure, Karasuno got some tall players and their raven-haired and blonde managers are just as beautiful as rumors but thats it. Karasuno was just another volleyball team.

Oikawa suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around to find a black-haired girl politely smile up at him. Oikawa’s breath caught in his throat.

“Excuse me, do you mind letting me through? I’m one of Karasuno’s manager and I’m running a little late” (Y/N) smiled apologetically at tall boy blocking the door.

“Oh yes, of course of course, sorry about that” Oikawa quickly moved out the way, watching the beautiful manager make her way over to her team. He didn’t miss the way she first glanced around her team before shyly blowing a kiss at the tall blond middle blocker, who pretended to catch it, making her giggle.

Oikawa was surprised by the disappointment he felt in his heart. He was constantly surrounded by his fan girls, many of whom are pretty, so what was this new feeling? Why was he disappointed to see this beautiful girl, a stranger no less, have a boyfriend?

The match went by quickly, though still playing at his best, Oikawa’s silly self rivalry with Kageyama took a backseat, as he kept glancing over at her. He saw the way she bit her lips in anticipation when it was Karasuno’s turn to attack, the worry in her eyes when Tsukishima held his fingers, re-adjusting the tape on them, and the smile of relief when he reassured her he was fine.

After the game, as all were cleaning up, he felt his eyes being drawn over to her again and couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation. He saw how Tsukishima came over to (Y/N), one hand slightly ruffling her hair, the other clutching his waterbottle, asking “hey (Y/n) why were you late today hm?”

“Sorry babe, Hinata forgot something in class so I had to go back to get it for him”, (Y/N) answered, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Tsukishima playfully yelled out to Hinata, “hey tangerine head, stop forgetting things and making my girlfriend late to watch me”.

Oikawa watched as (Y/N) giggled, before playfully hitting her boyfriend, asking him not to be mean to Hinata, as the tiny middle blocker jumped around apologizing to (Y/N).

Oikawa watched as Tsukishima tenderly pick up (Y/N)’s hand and led her out of the gym, following the rest of the Karasuno.

“Crappykawa if you keep looking your eyes might fall out”, the familiar sound of his best friend’s voice called out, followed by the snickers of the other Seijoh four.

Suddenly an eruption of “Oikawa senpai!!!” rang out as girly giggles echoed throughout the gym. Oikawa turned his attention to his fan girls, trying to stop his thoughts from wandering back to Karasuno’s manager, who is clearly in a happy relationship.

A Few Weeks Later

“Oikawa please stop bouncing around, why the heck are you so twitchy today” Makki called out, trying to get his captain to stop moving around so much.

“I heard we have a new manager and she used to be from Karasuno” Oikawa sang out loud, “i’m just glad we have a manager after Sana-chan had to leave, or else the team would be a mess!”

Makki pouted “no need to remind me about Sana, I’m happy for a new manager too”, who’s ex-girlfriend is the previous manager.

The door suddenly opened and there (Y/N) stood, as beautiful, if not more, as Oikawa remembered. The gym suddenly fell silent, as the rest of the team stood gaping at their new manager.

A slow blush rose to her cheeks, her eyes shyly cast down for a slight second, before clearing her throat. “Hi boys! My name is (Y/N) and i’ll be your new manager!” She smiled brightly and suddenly everyone was encouraged to approach her.

Kindaichi bounced up excitedly to her “Hi (Y/N) senpai, thanks for being our manager!” The other boys nodded in agreement.

The captain stepped forward and couldn’t help the blush rising to his cheeks as Y/N focused her eyes on him. “Has her eyes always been this big, her lashes so long? She’s cute, she’s super cute, oh but she has a boyfriend argh” Oikawa thought to himself, before clearing his throat realizing he stepped forward without saying anything for the past ten seconds.

After introducing her to the team and making sure she’s settled in, the captain returned to the team for practice, glancing over at her frequently to make sure she’s okay.

While the other players only noticed her beauty and friendly personality, Oikawa saw a lot more, the way she stared off into space for the tiniest of moments, eyes suddenly glassy before blinking and taking a deep breath or the way she seemed to force herself to smile at nothing. Oikawa frowned, wondering what was going on.

A few weeks passed, Y/N became more and more comfortable with the team and the team more comfortable with her. Oikawa and Y/N also became much closer friends. It was easy for the two of them to get along, both of them with easy going and optimistic personalities.

♫ You should have told me I don't know what to say Why are you sorry How did it get this way ♫

Oikawa found it weird that Y/N never mentioned Tsukishima, until one day after school. Y/N, Oikawa and the rest of the Seijoh four decided to stop by Starbucks after school for a quick pick-me-up after a long, tiring day before heading back for practice.

Oikawa watched Y/N furrowed her brows in frustration.

“Argh I don’t know what to choose! Mattsun what would you rather have ? matcha latte or strawberry frapp?” Y/N asked

Matsukawa wrinkled his nose in disgust “ew neither”.

The rest of the boys laughed as Y/N hit Mattsun out of frustration, laughters quickly drowning out Mattsun’s protest “Y/N why are you hitting me for your inability to choose!!”

As sudden as the laughter began, it died as the boys looked at the clear look of shock on your face. Oikawa following your eyes saw the tall blonde middle blocker hand-in-hand with another girl (who was wayyy not as cute as Y/N ,Oikawa thought to himself).

He saw the way Tsukishima’s shock mirrored Y/N’s, before his girlfriend, with a slight smirk, pulled the tall player down to herself to give him a quick kiss.

Oikawa whipped his head to look at Y/N’s, who now with slight tears around her eyes, quickly wiped them and said to the captain “just get me a matcha latte please, i’ll..um...wait for you guys outside”. Putting on a brave smile, Y/N walked past Tsukishima and Yuki before heading outside.

Oikawa looked at the rest of his friends in shock, before running out after Y/N, leaving the rest of the Seijoh boys to throw nasty looks at Tsukishima and Yuki.

The pretty setter found Y/N in the alley outside the coffee shop wiping tears from her eyes. As soon as Y/N sees Oikawa, she threw him a feeble smile, nose red from crying. Without thinking, Oikawa threw his arms around her and drew her close.

“He cheated on me, I don’t know why. I’m sorry” Y/N whispered against his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault” Oikawa replied.

The two stood there in a tight embrace, one heart broken, one heart breaking for the one broken.

♫ I'm afraid That bandaids Are no good For heartache ♫

“I like you Y/N” Oikawa murmured, unable to stop himself from confessing.

Y/N stiffened at his confession, trying to pull away but the setter pulled her tighter.

“It’s okay, I’m not expecting anything. I just want you to know”.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes wet with tears. “I’m sorry Toru, but i’m afraid.”

Oikawa smiled “Don’t worry I’m here for you, I’ll wait for you for as long as you need”.

Bandaids are no good for heartache, but Oikawa Toru doesn’t want to be your bandaid, he wants to be your heart.

#haikyuu imagines #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #hq imagines #hq tsukishima #tsukishima angst #hq scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq fluff

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years

Text

The Unraveling

Part 2 to Notebook!

Summary: Where house rivalry begins to crumble and attraction begins to bloom

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!reader

A/N: I just want to say thank you so much to all those who’ve shown support for the notebook! I didn’t really expect much from it, but it makes me so happy to know that it was enjoyable :) It seems that there will be another part to this, so I’ll definitely be brainstorming. Hopefully this one is just as good as the first. Once again, feedback is very much appreciated!

——————————————

Prior to meeting you, Draco only knew you by face--small glimpses of your face, that is. Your name had been thrown around here and there, but it was never enough to conjure any thought or interest within him. You were merely another student at Hogwarts who so happened to be in Gryffindor. Nothing more, nothing less. It was never in his mind that he’d ever become so intrigued by your presence, making the boy recall the first assignment you’d ever work on together.

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

The duration of your transfiguration class was coming to a close, and by now everyone was chattering amongst their friends, allowing the information that had been taught to slip away. McGonagall drew their attention once more for a final announcement.

“Before you leave today, I will be partnering you up for a group assignment: An essay on vanishing charms. Please listen for your names! Once I call you, you may go!”

The professor was going through her list swiftly. You faced Ginny in hopes that you’d be paired up with her, however that was dashed when McGonagall associated her name with Seamus’s. A frown was plastered on your face, ‘Damn. Who could my partner be?’

“Draco Malfoy, you’ll be working with Y/N Y/L/N.” You immediately felt your mood fall even more. With disappointment, you slung your bag over your shoulder, stood up, and took a brief glance at your partner before making your way to the door. You didn’t know what to expect out of this experience. You were aware of the boy through the eyes of your friends, but you never actually engaged with him before. Because of this, your first impression of him leaned towards the more negative side.

You weren’t thinking about anything except getting to your next class until you heard a shout, “Y/L/N! Library! Lunch!” Turning to the boy, you signalled an “ok” and gave a forced smile before walking away again. Draco stared at your figure as it grew further and further away down the hallway.

“Blaise, do you know anything about Y/L/N? She has quite the attitude doesn’t she?” He asked, slightly annoyed with your nonchalant behavior.

“Oh her? Pretty sure she’s friends with Potter and his bunch. Also known for being bloody good in transfiguration and DADA within our year. What’s it to you?”

Draco shrugged, “Never heard of her before. We’re paired for this essay.”

“Are you bothered that she's not giving you much attention as her other friends?” Blaise retorted while Draco scowled in response.

“I’ve got to be really desperate to want attention from someone like her.”

He made his way to his own class with Blaise following him shortly. He was confused by how indifferent you were to his presence. If you were really a part of the Gryffindor bunch, then surely you would have the same views as them when it came to him...right? Deciding to assume so, he continued on with his day without giving it too much thought.

You were released from your class a little earlier before lunch started, so you made your way to the library, hoping to get started right away on the research. Once you got there, you were met with an empty hall and the scent of old books--a comforting scent, really.

You weaved your way through countless shelves until you found yourself in the reference section. With your focus concentrated on your essay topic, you selected books you thought would be useful. Unknowingly, you’ve begun to accumulate a stack of books, so much so that you weren’t aware of the presence of a particular platinum-haired boy.

Draco cleared his throat, “You really think we’re going to need all that?” The suddenness of the occasion made you jump and stumble backwards as you held your hand over your chest.

“Merlin, Draco! Give me a warning, won’t you?” You closed your eyes. You were so startled at the moment that you didn’t realize how easy it was for you to say his name. You made a mental note to watch yourself more carefully. To your surprise, however, the boy let out a light chuckle (oddly enough, he liked the way it sounded from you). When you looked up at him, you couldn’t help but notice how warm he looked. It was different from his usual demeanor, but you welcomed it, giving a slight smile.

“Well we can’t get any work done if you plan to keep sitting there, Y/L/N” Scratch that. There he was.

“Well maybe if you helped me carry these books instead of standing there, we’d get to a table faster.” You said sarcastically. You handed him two of the texts and stood up with the rest. It didn’t occur to you how close he was until your eyes were met with his due to the small proximity. ‘Silver, how pretty’. The both of you felt a weird heat flush against your cheeks, a slight skip in heartbeat, and a certain difference in the air around you. To abolish the awkwardness you cleared your throat and apologized, starting to look for a table that was available. You settled for one that was near the window. The sunlight that shined through it looked really beautiful from afar.

Without any hesitation, the two of you settled. Draco sat himself in the seat next to yours, while placing the books in the space in front of him. You imitated his actions and went to work right away. Once you opened the covers, you were absorbed into your own world. With a piece of parchment resting beside you, you took your quill and began taking your notes on pieces of information that you felt were important. You were so concentrated that you didn’t notice the gaze that the boy had fixed on you.

Draco had only known you through brief passings in the hallways. He’d known you as a classmate, as a Gryffindor. But today--with the way the sunlight was casted on your hair and facial features--this was the first time he actually noticed you. The sight of your focused expression was enhanced by the way the sun illuminated your cheeks, how it graced your eyelids, even the way it softly landed on your lips. You looked ethereal, beautiful, far beyond than he expected. That moment was only for his eyes. He took a mental picture of it.

He also took notice of the way your hair was falling in front of you. He then mindlessly reached out to you and tucked the strand of hair behind your ear, making your eyes go wide. A blush threatened to spread across your cheeks again.

It took Draco a second before realizing what he had just done. Keeping in mind his reputation, he straightened up, struggling to string words together.

“Don’t get me wrong Y/L/N. That random strand was itching to be pulled back.” He turned his attention to the book in front of him.

“Ah...thanks. I guess.” Your hand gripped your quill a little tighter as you tried to process what the heck just happened as well as why you were getting so impacted by his actions. Both of your hearts were pounding now.

Perhaps it was because of the fact that the way he acted just now didn’t seem like the same person who would mercilessly bully others, let alone your friends. No. Instead, he was warm, and it shocked you. You definitely did not expect this from him. In fact, you wanted to question why he was acting like this, but you knew that deep in your heart you actually liked it yourself. Coming to the conclusion that the question was just a waste of energy, you shoved it in the back of your mind.

A few more minutes of writing had passed, and you took a look at the parchment, proud of the progress you’ve made so far. Out of nowhere, your stomach let out a huge growl, inducing a smirk coming from Draco.

“It seems that someone’s hungry.”

“Well what do you expect? It’s lunch and I haven’t eaten all day. I was kind of looking forward to the menu today, y’know?” You cradled your stomach, trying to shush it from making any more noise. The way your lips formed into a pout made the boy’s heart flip. He thought to himself, ‘What the hell is going on with me?’

Suddenly remembering the cookie he snagged from breakfast that morning, he took out the small form of sustenance and chucked it to you.

“There. Hope you like chocolate chip.” This topped it for you. You were practically stunned by how sweet this boy was at this very moment.

Without thinking you asked him anyway, “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m not really familiar to this side of you.”

He glanced at you and plainly stated, “You’re weird that’s why.”

‘Well gee, thanks.’ You thought. You rolled your eyes and smiled at his kind gestures. It was awkward and clumsy, but it slowly untangled the first impressions you had of the boy. You decided to tease him because of this.

“Draco Malfoy, soft? I’m not used to it, but I think it suits you.” You said smiling at him. It was different from the forced smile you gave earlier. He never would admit it, but at that instance he felt the desire to keep that smile in his life.

“Don’t get too used to it, Gryffindork.”

“You have my word, Slytherin.” You raised your right hand before unwrapping the cookie and breaking it in half. “Here, you must’ve been waiting to eat it.” You said, offering his piece to him. He took it with a small smile, and you two basked in the moment.

There was a first for everything, and without giving the scene any more thought, the both of you had begun noticing one another from that point on.

part 1

A/N: So, what’d you think?? My goal for this chapter was to portray Draco in a way that was slightly closer to his portrayal in the movie. I personally feel like if he wants to show kindness then he would. Maybe not in the way that is typical, but rather in his own Draco kind of way. IDKKKKK aha. Well I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @bbeauttyybbx @un-limit-edd @poetontheblock @tttyrus @stretchyice

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged :D

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mugi-chan · 4 years

Note

I was just watching some animation and opening and I was like, what the twisted Bois will do if they catch MC singing some song of our world? Not only Disney like, even Grim, that come back at Ramshackle singing "Believer of the imagine dragon" and run(or fly) to find help cause thinking that you are going to overbolting? Or Rook that hear you singing "le festin" and start to walk whit you trying to guess the song 😂 and choose you who will be the most funniest 😂 P.s.: love your writing :,3

ლ Tea Order: Vice Dorm heads: Woah what kind of song is that?

ლ Warnings: None!

ლ Shop owner notes: Trying to think what songs would fit the vice dorm heads where kind of hard 工ｴｴｪｪ(;╹⌓╹)ｪｪｴｴ工 Also I had like the biggest writers block for the past week and suddenly I got inspo to write during school like... bruh

You were helping Trey out for the next upcoming unbirthday party

Trey tasked you with doing the mixing of cake batter

As this was most of the time a really long and boring task you were quietly singing to one of your favorite song

Trey was focused on decorating that he didn’t notice your singing at first

But once he finished decorating one tier of the cake he overheard your singing

He didn’t say anything at first letting you finish your song

“That’s a really nice song, what is it?”

“Oh it’s (f/s)”

Trey was thinking if he heard that song before but drew blank

“I never heard of the song”

“Well I don’t expect you to it’s a song that I don’t think this world even has”

This peaked his interest

He knew your world has different taste then any of their countries

So he took this as a perfect time to get to know your world better

“So how those the song go?”

You were happy that Trey wanted to know more about your world

“Well it kind of goes like this”

You started to sing the song but soon got really embarrassed and stopped mid way to cover your face.

Trey wrapped his arm around your waist resting his forehead on yours

“Aw come on it’s really good, can I hear more?”

Still embarrassed you reluctantly agree

Giving out a helping hand is always needed for Ruggie

Trying to deal with Leona and the rest of the dorm is stressful

So you decided to help Ruggie out with some chores

You two were on top of Savanclaw dorm doing laundry

As you were putting up the laundry you were singing one of your favorite songs

Ruggie being the cheeky little hyena he pretends he can’t hear you

You continue singing until you realize Ruggie was just sitting there smiling

“Aw don’t stop (y/n) that song is really good!”

“Y-you heard?!”

You started to grow shy and turn away

Ruggie just laughed as he got up

“What song is it? I never heard of it”

“It’s (f/s)”

“Ahh must be music from your world”

You two discussed the music that your world might think is good

“Shishishi, one day if you do get back home you should bring back a CD full of your worlds music”

You agree, hoping one day that you can go home but find a way to come back to see your lovable goofball hyena

The next day you could hear Ruggie sing the exact same song you were singing

“Ruggie how can you remember the lyrics already?”

“Shishishi, well I’m just that good”

You nudged his side laughing with him.

(Sorry Ruggie was short I ran out of Ideas)

When Grim first busted into the mostro lounge, jade was going to scold him from busting into the mostro lounge until he saw how distress he was

“Oya oya Grim what seems to be the problem?”

“(y/n)! I don’t know what’s going on but they’ve been muttering to themself for a while in a strange language!”

Now this confused the octa trio

What? A strange language and muttering to themselves?

Azul put Jade in charge of this since clearly Grim is in distress and (y/n) is his s/o

Plus this could make for a good deal, who knows what Azul can get out of this

Jade clearly disapproved of that reasoning but that will have to wait

His main focus is on you

When he got to Ramshackle dorm everything looked normal nothing out of place

Opening the door everything still feels normal, nothing still feels out of place

But who knows what could happen

Entering the kitchen he saw you preparing a snack muttering to yourself

He sees why Grim was worried

He didn’t understand the language you were singing to

A playful smirk appeared on his face as he leaned down behind you

“What a nice song your singing there my little guppy”

You shrieked as you turned meeting face to face with Jade

“Oya oya, Is my little guppy scared?”

“No you just scared me!”

“Apologies”

Jade explained himself on why he was here

A small oh came from your mouth

You gave a small glare to Grim as you explain what you were doing

“Ah I see, may I hear more of it. I may not understand it but your voice is cute”

You rolled your eyes as you went back to what you were doing

You were brushing Jamil’s hair as Jamil had a pretty stressful day

Brushing his hair made him calm

And you singing, oh he feels like he may be in heaven

But this song you were singing, it was strange

You sang in a language he has never heard of

All of these weird intonations

And words he can understand but not know the context for it

How very strange these songs were for him

He let you continue singing as he was trying to decipher what you were singing

Alas he drew blank

Once you finished singing the song Jamil asked you about the song

“Oh, the song? It’s like a pop song from my country”

“Ah I see” Jamil leaned back letting his back meet your chest

“Do you want to hear more?”

“I would like to know the meaning of the song”

A smile crept on your face as you explain the meaning behind the song as you started to braid his hair.

If you think Jamil had a nice soothing voice, your right

But Jamil also thinks your voice is very soothing as well

It helps him relax

A very familiar language echo across the Pomefiore halls

Could it be? Someone in here speaks French as well?

Rook went to the hallways trying to find the source of the voice

Drawing near the end of the hallway he was met by his beautiful and wonderful (y/n)

Oh just seeing you there felt like an angel just fell upon earth and took interest in Rook

He hid from you knowing how much you dislike having an audience

The song was so beautiful, majestic for his ears

Deciphering the words he could understand parts of it

Derniere Danse? What was his sweet (y/n) trying to say?

Your last dance? Oh my, is something wrong?

So much questions forming around his head as he decipher the words

None of these were making sense

Once you finished singing Rook clapped scaring you

“That was beautiful my love, truly magnificent!”

A small blush crept on your face as you tried to look away from his gaze

Rook plopped himself right next you snuggling close to you

“What songs was that?”

“Oh just a song that I knew for a while”

“I thought you told me you never spoke French?”

“Well I may not know French but I can sing it”

“I still think it’s beautiful, may I hear more?”

You nodded allowing Rook to be comfortable as you try your best to sing french songs

Heck you tried to sing the theme song from Ratatouille

But did Rook care? Nope! He’s just happy that his love is speaking… well singing in french

The forest is a great way to get away from all the noise that NRC produce

Rowdy first years, light music club noise, and Sebek

Lilia was at light music club so you had time to yourself

And walk in the woods are nice to have

Hearing the nice calm forest gave you a place to talk to yourself about all your woes and talk about your own world without anyone asking a million questions about the world

I mean you don’t mind answering questions but sometimes it can be tiresome and annoying at times

But there will always be this one thing that will always resonate in you

(f/s), a song you know the lyrics for and the only you can still remember as it have been ages since you last saw your world

Singing said song always bring peace to your just like the forest

What you didn’t know was the Light music club ended early so Lilia was looking for you

Once he did he spotted you in a clearing in the woods singing to yourself

My my my what a strange song you are singing, clearly Lilia drew blank as the song was so strange yet seems so familiar to him

He waited for you to stop singing to appear next to you

Of course scaring living soul out of you

“My my, what a beautiful song you have, mind if I ask what it is?”

“Lilia you’re here early!”

“My club finished earlier than expected”

“Anyway what was that song you were singing?”

“You heard?!”

“Of course”

Oh no did Lilia do something wrong?

You were trying to hide you face in embarrassment as you didn’t want Lilia to hear it

“What’s the matter (y/n)?”

“I didn’t want you to hear me sing”

“Oh my love don’t say that I love you singing it’s beautiful”

Lilia gently grabbed your cheek resting his forehead on yours

“I don’t mind if you sing it a hundred times, it’s beautiful”

Would you like to order something? Look at our Tea shop rules first!

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Prove Me Wrong

M!Reader x Oikawa

a/n: SDKLFJSLDKFJDLSKF OKAY I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I LAST UPDATED BUT I REALLY INVESTED MY TIME INTO RESEARCHING AND READING FANFICS WITH AN M!READER BC I REALLY DIDNT WANNA GET IT WRONG SO I APOLOGIZE IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG AND I HOPE THIS ANON LIKES IT!!!

anon:

-heres an interesting thought. what about flamboyant oikawa with a cold boyfriend😳😳

YEYYY I FINALLY UPDATED

LETS GET STARTED SHALL WE?

okayokayokay

so in the request above

this is a m!reader

meaning you will be male in this one so hehe yep the story starts now

you are,,,

distant

and cold

but its mainly just because you were,,,

too tired to actually put in the effort of socializing

between bouncing between part-time jobs to care for your siblings and to schoolwork and book club

the mans can only do so much

so you spend most of your time in school just trying to catch up on sleep bc youre too busy studying up all night for exams since yanno

✨gRaDuaATiOn✨

unfortunately for you, your class had the famous manwhore oikawa tooru

why is that a bad thing?

well, imagine just trying to get some shut eye and suddenly, you just hear a bunch of screaming girls and it gets louder the closer the guy approaches your classroom and when he opens it,

the screams become 10x bass boosted

then imagine that with your sensitive hearing

now,,

it does bother you but it wouldnt bother you as much if he told them to leave

BUT NOOOOOO

he decides to let them in and chat with them and flatter them and continue with that bs until the bell rings

even then,

the girls in your class cant help but keep giggling at him and he always whispers in that obnoxious voice and youre just like two seconds away from ripping his tongue out

now

you dont hate him

you just genuinely dislike his way of living

and the way he talks

and the way he acts

yea see?

no hate

theres a difference

then there was that one time that you got so fed up with it that when oikawa settled on his seat and the fangirls circled him like some cult

they started talking to him all at once trying to get his attention

so it was a garbled mess of sounds and you growled, burying your face deeper in your arms because you would snap really really soon

then one girl shrieked when oikawa smiled at her and then you really just let go of all bearings

your chair made a squeak as you shot up, palms slamming against the wooden desk and your eyes glaring straight at them

‘go back to the farm, ya squealing pigs’

DSKFJLSDFKJSDFKDJS SORRY I LOVE TSUMU

this made everyone silent-even the others in the class just minding their own business

they all knew you as the quiet kid who didnt really talk much but those who did were really scared at you and the way you talked to them with such a cold and monotonous voice that they started spreading rumors about you

even absurd ones like your eyes are so cold bc youve killed so many people that you have no life and empathy left

LIKE WHAT THE HECK YOU STRUGGLED TO GET A SPIDER OUT OF YOUR SISTERS ROOM THE OTHER DAY LIKE EXCUSE YOU

but apparently they were just,,, so scared of you that when you finally got done with them and bursted out, the girls started crying

YALL KNOW THE SAYING LIKE HELL HAS STARTED WHEN THE QUIET KID SNAPS

the females run out of the room scared and the others nervously looks at you

your eyes sweeped through the room and each one of them flinched when you made eye contact with them

YES ASSERT OUR DOMINANCE M/N

the only who didnt was oikawa tooru himself

your eyes landed on him and he still had that stupid smug look on his stupidly gorgeous face and you wanted to ki-WAIT NO SLAP it off of him

‘the hell you looking at?’

you grumbled at him and he just merely shook his head with a smile

‘you remind me a chihuahua, m/n-chan. so cute when its angry’

‘HAH?!’

now it isnt a surprise to hear oikawa tooru say that to a boy bc wowza the school loves him so much that hes a bi icon in seijoh and hes such a king like who cares?

but they were surprised to see you turn red, the tips of your ears to the base of your neck were all flushed

‘see? so cute, right, everyone?’

KSDFJLSDKJFS

THE NERVE OF THIS MAN

the class didnt say anything except just put their heads down bc as much as they wanted to agree with oikawa at how suddenly hot you looked, they were too scared that you might plummet their faces to the ground

maybe thats when everyone started noticing you more

again, you were very quiet, you didnt talk much, you just sat there and listened so obviously you didnt really stand out but then that outburst made you more noticeable

you started seeing girls in your class staring at you then blush and look away abashedly

then the guys in your class started greeting you, even people in the hallways

ngl the attention you suddenly got was overwhelming

especially when oikawa seemed to call out to you all the time now

as you were walking down the stairs, hed see you and he’d shout and wave to you

‘m/n-chan! hiii!!!!’

his loud voice would make everyone turn and look at you and you dont do well with public attention so you turn red and you glare at him

‘shut the hell up, idiot. and dont call me by my first name. we’re not friends’

you turned to walk in the classroom but you looked at him again after taking a few steps

there he was

smiling and giggling with those girls

all he does is smile and giggle and shit

its so damn fake that you cant believe everyone fell for it and the worst thing is oikawa’s doing it to get everyone’s acceptance and validication

it was pathetic and disgusting

poor oikawa :(

now on to baby flatttykawa side,

he was kinda hurt by that

like how the heck are you not friends when youve been going to high school for 3 years?

sure, its only been casual greetings and him waving at you when yall made eye contact

but its still something, right?

right?

when you walked back into the classroom, tooru cant help but feel down at the declaration of the lack of friendship you had

his form slouched and his eyes trailed down but the voice of some girl brought him back to where he was and to fix his attitude

‘oikawa-san? are you okay?’

the others muttered in concern with her but they were eased when he raised a peace sign with the signature smile

‘yep! all good!’

GOD I REALLY CANT STAND IT WHEN HE USES A FACADE TO EVERYONE BUT LIKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH BC HES SUCH A STRONG CHARACTER THAT DOESNT BREAK AND HES SO INSECURE AND IT PAINS ME SO MUCH THAT HE FEELS THE NEED TO HIDE BEHIND A MASK EVERYDAY AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

truth be told,

oikawa has always noticed you

not only do you work at the one bakery with his milk bread but you also work at the convenience store that the team sometimes visits

then he also noticed you picking up your brother from the volleyball practice that takeru’s part of and he cant help but frown at the eyebags under your eyes that he always sees

he lies awake at night just thinking how you would look without those eyebags, without the sickly looking complexion, or even just the lack of life in your eyes

then during class, you sat by the window

tooru knows this bc his eyes always fixes itself on you whenever he opens that door and he has to hold in the need to hug you when he sees you sleeping on your desk

others might call you lazy

others might call you a video game all nighter kid

but they dont notice the things you do

the nervous habits hes seen from you at the times that tooru couldnt help but stare

he knew it was creepy to do it

but you were so silent

you blended yourself into the background and you made sure to stay there

thats why nobody knows anything about you

with good looks like yours and a smart brain (he knew this from mattsun and makki being your students), why exactly were you not known?

maybe thats why it drew you to him

all his life he chased,

but now hes the one chasing?

tooru knows that your left eyebrow lifts when sensei writes something you dont understands

tooru knows that you like to do sudoku in the convenience store while you worked

tooru knows you eat the same meal during lunch every day from the same lunchbox

and he also knows that your brother talks so highly about you from takeru

the little things your brother brags about like your ability to cook f/f or your weird ability to just assemble something without looking at the instruction manual

he notices and knows all these things about you

things that people never really even bothered to

oikawa didnt even know he liked you until iwaizumi pointed it out during lunch

the third years liked to go and eat at the rooftop where it was nice and windy

oikawa was sitting and leaned against the tall wire fence, his eyes fixated on you down below on the bench as you ate your lunch

then you accidentally loosened the chopsticks causing your food to slip off

that made oikawa giggle

he was chuckling and giggling that the others noticed him when he suddenly went quiet

‘oi, oikawa’

makki nudged him back to them and tooru flinched before smiling at them

‘hm? so you do notice me!’

iwa glared

‘idiot. of course we do. youre laughing over there like some damn schoolgirl. did one of your fangirls posses you or something? if not, cut it out. its ugly’

oikawa shot him an offended look

‘what?! iwa-chan so mean!’

mattsun took the liberty to peer over the edge to see what he was looking at and smirked

‘eh? were you looking at l/n-sensei?’

oikawa blushed, feeling like he just got caught doing something bad

‘and what about it? im looking at you too, right now, mattsun!’

makki cackled at oikawa’s poor attempt of reasoning

‘i mean, i dont blame you. if issei wasnt here, id definitely get with him’

SEDKLFJSDLFISDKFJ MATTSUHANA YALL :”)

oikawa’s eyes wandered back down to you and he noticed you put the bento box to the side before sneezing

‘gosh, even his sneeze is cute’

he mumbled then jolted when he heard his own words

iwa sighed

‘what are we going to do with you, shittykawa?’

‘what?! what did i do?!’

iwa’s eyes scrunched and he scrutinized his best friend

‘boke. i feel bad for that kid, doesnt know this stupid idiot likes him’

so thats how oikawa came to terms of it

he thought he was just interested and fascinated with you but he really does like you

and to be honest, he doesnt really want you to know that bc duh, you dont like him so why bother?

baby oiks doesnt interact with you much anymore bc he knows you get uncomfy with attention but he still does look out for you and decides he should just admire from afar

he will live every day just holding his feelings in for you and one day they will disappear

but today just wasnt the day

maybe today was the start of the worst yet the best part of your life

last night was particularly rough as the convenience store you worked in had a drunk person who wanted to fight with you and your manager had to call the police and it was just a mess

to add on to it, midterms were around the corner-like next week- so you were studying up for that

but your sister got sick so you were also trying to take care of her and making sure her fever was going down and her crying ever few hours about her tummy ache didnt allow you to sleep

hehehe single parent working late tingz

ALSO SHE DOESNT HAVE MISS RONA JFC

so yep haha you did NOT get any sleep

so you walked into school that morning, looking tired as hell and mad as hell but you just wanted to sleep bro

the one kid you tutor, matsukawa issei, and his friend who usually tags along, hanamaki takahiro, noticed you dazedly pass them in the hallway and poor dudes felt bad for you

mattsun actually pays you to tutor him bc he knows you need the money while taka preferred to buy you snacks and drinks as compensation

so it was normal that he had an energy drink in his bag that he was going to give you tomorrow during your tutoring day

‘oi! l/n!’

your head perked up at the call of your name and you nodded in greeting at the light brown haired boy

‘hey’

you muttered and mattsun placed his hands on your shoulder to keep you upright

‘oi, l/n, you sure you want to be here? you can go home and we can tell them youre sick or some-’

but you waved your hand

‘nonono todays an important lecture so i cant miss it’

the two guys didnt look convinced but they respected your need to be in school since they too need to be in class for midterms

‘here. at least take this’

makki placed a drink on your hand and you nodded and gave them a small smile

‘thanks’

you mumbled before wandering off

once they saw you at a distance away, makki wrapped an arm around issei to get his attention

‘ya think we should tell oikawa to keep an eye on him? make sure he doesnt keel over and die or somethin?’

mattsun stopped before nodding

‘yea thats a good idea’

SKLFJLSDKJFD NOT MATTSUHANA BEING YOUR PARENTS

oikawa was already in class when you walked in and he cant help but tear his eyes away from the girls to you as you sluggishly walked to your seat

the drop of your bag and the thud of your head meeting the desk made him worried bc you looked worse than usual

his phone buzzed and he checked it to see a message from mattsun

‘keep an eye out for your boyfriend. mightve been working late last night and yanno how he is. just watch out if he faints or something’

okay that made him super worried

totally ignoring what mattsun called you, oikawa knew he needed to talk to you

but these fangirls were the first problem

he shut his phone off and looked up at them with a grin that made them madly blush

‘ladies, class is about to start. oikawa-senpai would hate for you to be marked. so study hard for me, okay?’

like hypnotized cult members, the girls ran to their classrooms and tooru finally had the opportunity to talk to you

he stood up and walked over to your seat

‘m/n-chan’

he called out, looking down at you

‘m/n-chan’

he tried again and was about to put a hand on your shoulder when your hand snatched it

‘dont touch me, oikawa’

you grumbled and tooru furrowed his eyebrows

‘m/n-chan, i just wanted to ask if youre okay’

he whined and you didnt bother to look up but just let go of his hand

‘i was until you came over, idiot’

ouch

tooru was thankful that the teacher came in then and there bc he didnt know how to respond to that

he wanted to brush it off but it hurt him a little

and he knows he shouldnt entertain his crush on you but he couldnt looking at you and watching as you got up to use the bathroom

as class went on, oikawa was starting to worry

now again, hes no stalker bc his observation skills were just phenomenal due to volleyball

so he noticed that youve been in the bathroom for like 20 minutes now

DONT JUDGE US, OIKAWA. WE’RE JUST TRYING TO PUSH OUT THE BIG PIECE OF-

okay nevermind

anyways

tooru, worried that something happened, raised his hand to go and use the bathroom and the sensei wasnt exactly paying attention so he just let him go

thank god he has long legs bc he was able to reach the bathroom quick and he stifled a shriek when he saw your passed out form inside

‘M/N-CHAN!’

he yelled and he cursed when duh you were alone and who knows how long youve been there

and ew bathroom floors is bleh

you were in no way light but you werent exactly heavy either so he was able to muster up all his strength and hoisted you on his back

tooru’s heart thrummed in his chest and he knew it couldnt be that serious but he cant help but think of the worst

and yep

the nurse just told him that your heartbeat was okay and you were snoring so you mustve been exhausted by the dark circles in your eyes

‘keep an eye on him for me. i have to tend to midoriya over there. the kid broke his arm again and i dont know how’

she grumbled at the end but tooru didnt care as he sat on the chair next to your bed

he sighed before laying his head on the cot by your hand

his eyes settled on your face and how peaceful it looked

gosh, you really were so cute

your personality just sucked ass

constantly telling him to shut up and calling him idiot

hmph

not long after oikawa fell asleep, you woke up and cursed, immediately realizing you fainted and you missed class

as you were going to rub your eye, there was weight on your hand and you looked down to see a head full of brown hair that could only belong to a certain someone

a certain idiot

‘oi. oikawa, wake up’

you shook his head and when he didnt budge, you just pulled your hand from under him making him jump awake

at first, he was confused

looking around like a lost puppy and his eyes bleary

yea it was cute and what about it

then he noticed you sitting up and he smiled

‘you feeling better, m/n-chan?’

he asked, leaning close

but you placed your hand on his face to push him away

‘yea. and stop leaning so close, idiot’

you grumbled and he whined

‘youre so mean, m/n-chan! i was so worried about you!’

he complained and you rolled your eyes

‘i didnt ask you to be, idiot’

SLDKFJSDLKFJKL M/N IS SO MEAN WHAT THE FAK

oikawa frowned

‘i cant help it. i like you, m/n-chan’

you froze, looking at him with scrunched eyebrows

then you chuckled dryly

‘yea, okay sure. im okay now so you can go to class’

wOW OIKAWA DESERVES BETTER WHAT

tooru was taken aback

‘wh-what? thats it? after i just told you that i liked you?’

you blinked at him

‘what do you want me to say about that, oikawa? how do you want me to react? im not like your fangirls, squealing and shit’

your words cut deep in him and oikawa held your arm

‘no wait a minute. what do you mean by that? do you not believe me?’

‘who the hell believes something that’s fake?’

there was a snip in your tone and oikawa knew you were talking about this facade of his

‘what? i-’

‘you think i believe you? you telling me you like me? do you even know who you are?’

you asked and tooru sniffled, eyes staring at your chest

‘for years, you told people what you wanted them to hear, regardless if you meant them or not. not once have you ever told them no. who the hell accepts chocolates when they dont even like them to begin with?’

at that last part, oikawa snapped up to meet your eyes

‘how did you know’

you rolled your eyes

‘our brothers are friends, idiot. he gave him some of the chocolates you gave to takeru since the brat couldnt eat them all’

oddly, that brought some warmth in tooru’s chest

so he wasnt the only one who knows the stupid stuff

but you continued on your rant

‘for a guy who doesnt like sweet stuff, youve accepted their nasty treats all the time, like why? oh, wait i know why, because you want them to like you. it doesnt matter if-if this-this persona of yours isnt real because as long as they like you, you dont give a fuck. isn’t that true? am i right? because please, prove me wrong’

maybe your dislike for him came out at that tangent and you half expected him to cry but you were surprised when he glared at you with teary eyes

‘i will. ill prove you wrong, m/n, that i do like you and i will make you like me. ill make you like me with the real me. i swear.’

‘mhm. okay. sure, oikawa’

do you regret it?

i mean,,,

kinda?

but not really?

because you loved watching the girls faces fall when oikawa rejected their treats the next day

you were walking to class when you noticed him with his cult by the entrance and you saw him smiling at some girl before gently pushing away a can of cookies

‘gomen. i actually dont like sweets that much anymore. if you want, you can give me milk bread?’

you stopped and oikawa caught your eye and he grinned

you nodded in greeting before continuing to walk

but he noticed a small smile on your face and gosh oikawa sighed like a lovesick fool

it took iwaizumi to finally send him back and his fangirls were looking at him worriedly

‘could you be less obvious, shittykawa?’

rip iwaizumi hajime in episode 546546546 of daily adventures of oikawa tooru

you noticed that oikawa has started to become distant with his fangirls and hes been sticking to you during lunch, leaving behind the others

makki and mattsun looked like proud parents as they peered down over to you flicking oikawa’s forehead and they smiled

‘god, that kid deserves this’

‘hah? that sounds like more of a punishment to me. but i dont care. it takes him off our hands for a while’

IWA I SWEAR HES SO MEAN BUT HE STILL WUVS TOORU SO ITS OKAY

oikawa would pick your brother up and take him home when youre too busy to go get him yourself and sometimes, he even takes your little sister too which causes them to have a mini sleepover and you sleep there too

also, whenever youre working in the convenience store, tooru would buy sandwhiches and a drink just for you so you can eat them while youre on break and not have to waste money and you told himyou dont want him spending money on you but he doesnt wanna hear it

‘i dont want you buying me-’

‘ssshhhh dont. im doing this because i want to and becaus i care for you, m/n-chan’

overtime,

yea

sure

youve started to like him

youve started looking forward to seeing his stupidly cute face and his stupidly cute giggle

you went to his games and gave him a tight hug when hes about to play as a ritual for good luck and you would open your arms for him wide whenever he wins

then he didnt

against shiratorizawa, you noticed how he was so disappointed

even as you walked home with him, he continued to smile and tell you how good his team played

until you couldnt take it anymore

you pulled him over to some alleyway and you pushed him to the wall

DSKLFJLSDKFJLSDFJ WOW WHAT

oikawa nervously fiddled with his jacket and gave you a shaky smile

‘m/n-chan, what are you-’

‘tell me what youre feeling right here, right now. no bullshit, no lies, tell me everything in that pretty head of yours’

you deadpanned and tooru looked away

‘im fine’

‘are you lying to me, tooru?’

your voice was even but he could tell you were serious

he gulped before taking in a shakey breath

‘im fine. so stop asking about it!’

he exclaimed and you sighed

‘listen, i know its not official yet but you want me to be your boyfriend right?’

tooru flinched before he flushed at the word ‘boyfriend’

then he nodded

‘as your boyfriend, you have to lean on me, tooru. i dont want you to hold it to yourself because i wanna be there for you and i want to go through everything with you because i,,,,,’

you stopped and hesitated, debating if you should say it or not

‘because i like you, idiot’

you confessed and swallowed thickly

oikawa met your eye and his eyes watered

‘im so angry! im so disappointed! but i know my team did their 110 percent! we’re just not strong enough! so its not their fault! but ushijima is such a freak and hes too strong and its not fair!’

he complained and he cried loudly

not once in the 3 years of knowing oikawa have you seen him cry and you were so proud of him for being able to trust you enough to show him being vulnerable

you rushed forward held him close to your chest

‘for what it’s worth, you looked so incredibly hot and cute playing’

you whispered and pecked his neck

of course oikawa couldnt hold his surprise at the feeling of your lips on his neck so he squealed a little

you gigled and continued holding your boyfriend close, even if it was at some nasty alleyway

yall became official and ngl, they didnt see this coming

some nobody dating the grand king oikawa tooru?

what in the wattpad?

yall know that tiktok of like ‘guys you cant dm me anymore. i have a girlfriend now. what else? and i love her’

IF YALL DONT KNOW IM SORRY

but you totally made oikawa tell his fangirls that

YOU KNOW THE FUNNY THING?

when yall became official, you actually gained your own little fanclub

maybe its because you gained clout from your boyfriend but they started noticing you and wowza you were hot

before, it was you getting jealous over tooru but now, it was him getting possessive of you

hes such a brat that he sits on your lap before class and youre just all smirking and feeling all good bc your baby is so cute when hes jealous

YOU CANT DISAGREE THAT HE DOESNT RADIATE UKE ENERGY

but all oiks has to do is pull down your collar and expose your purple littered collarbones and they will know who you belong to

theres a reason why iwa-chan is now the kids babysitter

youre still kinda cold and distant to people but youre soft for your baby and you always hold him close when hes in sight and you just cant get enough of him

:’)

also!!

your sister loves dressing you up and oikawa has his sisters makeup and they both do your makeup and you guys have tea party with the boys and just the cutest domestic stuff

you still call him idiot though

but like affectionately yanno?

and over the years youve turned it down to dummy

and ngl tooru loves it when you call him that

what in the dumbification-

because he knows that equivalent to babe from you and he absolutely just loves you lmao

youre def the more quieter and calmer one in the relationship like you absolutely dont react much

while tooru is the overreactor and hes very animated with his facial expressions and stuff

like the one time

he was cooking some chicken pasta and you cheekily grabbed a piece of chicken and he made a dramatic gasp

‘*le gasp* oikawa m/n how dare steal a piece of chicken!’

you cackled before crossing your arms at the sight ofyour lover with his pursed lips and hands on his hips

‘excuse you. its more of you who’d take my last name’

it was so easy to make him flustered and tooru quickly turned around to tend back to the food but he was really just hiding his red face

‘b-baka. thats not going to happen’

‘not if i do it first’

you shrugged and smirked, wondering if he will fall for it

and as expected with oikawa tooru

‘yea okay sure’

‘i will!’

‘prove me wrong, m/n-chan~’

‘turn around right now’

oikawa rolled his eyes playfully before turning with a smile

‘what are you-*le gasp part 2*’

his hands covered his mouth at the sight of you there in front of him, kneeling on your knee tightly clutching a silver ring between your thumb and index finger

your heart was thrumming in your chest but you gulped and smiled

‘i win. now marry me, dummy’

oikawa screamed

a/n: sorry if this sucked booty :((( but i just really like the thought of uke oikawa and just him with a cute boyfriend for a change like please we all know oikawa is a bi king and thats on docosahexaenoic acid

124 notes · View notes

basicjetsetter · 3 years

Text

Part V

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Fluffy scenes, anxious moments, cliff-hanger

▹ Words: 3.3k

▹ A/N: We are reaching the eye of the storm. Happy reading!

“ ‘Kay, so there’s no way they’re gonna win this game without him turning into the Wolf, right?”

“Finish watching it, Peter.”

Peter musingly shakes his head, mouthful of his fourth slice of pizza. “There’s no way.”

You level a patient smirk at him and point to the television, wordlessly telling him to see for himself.

The screen’s brightness fills your otherwise dark living room, casting shadows along the angles of Peter’s concentrated face. His body is sloped forward, and if he didn’t possess the body control of an enhanced being, he’d fall face-first into your carpet.

Tonight’s movie selection was your choice, and you didn’t want to disappoint. So when Peter said he’d never seen Teen Wolf, you were over the moon. Usually, you’d watch every single second of the classic film, but with Peter sitting cross-legged next to you, his hip pressed against yours as your crossed leg rests on top of his, you spent the entire time covertly peeking at his fascinated expressions.

Well into the third month of your friendship, Peter’s presence in your apartment remains to be an odd sight in a good way. Out of your ordinary. His first time in your apartment came on a day you both chose to escape the sun’s sweltering heat with A/C and ice cream, and like your first conversation in Hal’s, he never made it weird.

It was effortless. Every moment with Peter was like breathing.

If anyone else suggested Friday-night movie nights, you’d have spared no time shutting them down. But your yes to Peter harbored no resistance.

“No way!” An excited smile spreads across Peter’s face as Scott steps to the baseline to take the game-winning free throw shots. “Is he seriously gonna make these?”

You seal your lips, choosing not to spoil the moment, but Peter doesn’t see. His eyes never stray from the screen, and his lips slightly part from the nail-biting suspense. As the last shot falls through the hoop, Peter’s whole jaw drops.

When the end credits roll, he slowly claps. “That was awesome. Like I’ve got some serious chills. How am I going to top that?”

“Eh, you probably won’t,” you reply with a boastful grin. Hidden joy thrums through your body from his excitement. “Might as well call a wrap on movie nights.”

Peter playfully nudges you with his elbow, then checks his watch. “Ah, man, it’s late. I needed to be on patrol half an hour ago.” He’s up in a flash, slipping his shoes on and chewing up the rest of his pizza.

“Do you have to go?” A hint of sadness tinges your words.

“Yeah, the city would be a mess without me,” he jokes, but you weren’t remiss of his undertone sincerity. “Oh! That reminds me. Some bad guys are out on a robbing spree lately, tailing people at night, so if you work late, can you ask Chris to walk you home? Y’know, just in case I’m not there.”

He does this every time he’s over. Each week, there’s a new thing or group to be leery of, and each time he asks, you immediately nod to erase the gut-sinking concern in his brown eyes.

You rise from the couch and follow Peter to the door. He turns just as he’s about to twist the handle, stalls for a second, then envelopes you into a small, reluctant hug, leaving his arms lax just in case you wanted to pull away.

Hugging is new, something you’ve only done about five times. The first was an unplanned disaster featuring a hard shove, repeated apologies, and a long, awkward moment of silence.

You didn’t mean to push him away. It was one of those moments where, even though the urge to reciprocate was there, you couldn’t allow yourself to find comfort in such an innocent gesture. You weren’t ready. He respected that.

You knew your rash reaction bruised Peter more than he let on, but he learned to ease his way into your comfort zone with small touches. An intentional brush of his hand against yours, scooching closer to you on the couch, hi-fives with minimally laced fingers.

It took a while for the second hug-attempt, but you were cautiously prepared when it happened.

This time around, you return the gesture, winding your arms around his middle and setting your chin on his shoulder, resisting the urge to nuzzle your nose against his warm neck. His closeness frazzles you, even more so when he diminishes the gap between you, holding you tighter to his chest before releasing you and clearing his throat.

“Be safe,” you warn softly.

He puffs out his chest. “I have nothing to fear except fear itself.”

“That confident, huh?”

“Comes with the job. You get knocked down enough times, you get pretty confident once you realize you can always get back up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And yet you still have a fear of heights.”

“Never said I wasn’t afraid of falling. Just that it gets easier getting back up. ‘Sides, most of those petty offenders scare easy. All I gotta do is say I can plant eggs in ‘em.” He shudders at the idea himself.

“Please, Peter,” you implore, a smile sullying your stern frown.

Peter’s grin, always so wholesome and calming, blankets over your nerves. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, I think Spider-Man needs someone to worry about him, sometimes. Even if he can get back up. Just… let caution work alongside confidence.”

He heeds your words with a more allayed smile, curtly nodding. “Vigilance. I can do that.”

You’re tempted to wrap him back into your arms to protect him from whatever dangers lie outside of your apartment. Instead, you exchange simple goodnights and shut the door once he reaches the stairwell.

The room and your shirt preserve his crisp evergreen scent long after he’s gone. It lingers as you crawl into bed. An aromatic reminder of his caress and warm skin.

As far as friendships go, you’ve never had one quite like this. The line you drew in the sand moves. Accommodates. Shrinks. Whether he’s aware of it or not, the time you spend cracking jokes with Peter at Hal’s, listening to his adventurous feats, becoming comfortable with his physical proximity, seeing his smile and the way his eyes light up when you smile at something funny or interesting he’s said, you fall just an inch.

He's growing on you. His presence. His laughter. His beaconing smile. His tentative touch. His uncanny ability to endear himself to your foreclosed heart.

It was easier to deny the connection when you didn’t know Peter. But now that you do, every moment you’re with him intensifies what you’ve painstakingly tried to avoid.

You’re falling in love with your Soulmate.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Once again, it’s the Saturday brunch rush, and once again, Hal’s is up to its neck in bloodthirsty customers. All the booths are packed, as well as the stools. Some of the parties compact a seat meant for two with four people, and the aisle clogs with those who just came to grab a cup of coffee and conversation.

Chris is in his element, swinging from one booth to the next like a controlled tornado collecting orders, while you and Wendy are the unfortunate bunch who have to clean up desecrated tables and feed the greedy.

“If someone asks me what the specials are one more time, I’m going to rip my hair out,” Wendy grouses behind the counter as she puts away five menus.

You grumble back the same sentiments. Menus exist for a reason. And most of these people aren’t new to Hal’s, so the fact that they always have to ask grinds your gears.

11:30 a.m. is your saving grace. If you can hold on until Peter gets here, you’ll be fine.

Chris stops by the bar, pocketing what appears to be a twenty-dollar bill. “Lighten up, ladies. At least you’re off tomorrow.”

Wendy, in her 5’3’’ stature, looks feral. “I want to be off now.”

A rowdy group of high-schoolers sitting in the farthest booth is holding a contest to see who could drink a milkshake the fastest, and the two unlucky contestants shriek like banshees from self-inflicted brain-freeze. All three of you wince.

“We don’t get paid enough for this.”

Hal shouts from the back. “Order up! And stop slackin’ off out there!”

Wendy’s eye twitches as she marches to the back to pick up the orders. You’d have acted the same way if you didn’t have something to look forward to.

“They’re not going to tip me. I just know it,” Chris says to you, despondently looking over at the teens’ table again.

“They’ll come around. No one can resist this moneymaker.” You lightly bump him on the chin to indicate his smile. Heck, his whole chiseled face is a moneymaker, but that exuberant smile sells it all.

Over the last three months, just like your friendship with Peter, your friendship with Chris has improved. Even with Wendy. You aren’t at each other’s throats nearly as much as you used to be. Last week, she complimented your hairstyle, though it was immediately followed up with a snide comment: progress, either way.

Chris laughs. “And here I thought my friendly personality racked up all the tips.”

“It’s a bonus.”

He chuckles again, then blows out a hesitant breath. “So, Y/N…”

“So, Chris…”

“There’s, um, there’s gonna be another music festival in Cunningham Park tonight, and I was wondering if, y’know, you and Peter might want to come and hang?”

You and Peter… As if you were a pair. An item. A couple. To unsuspecting eyes, you knew you and Peter seemed to be just really good friends. Not even Hal questioned why you spent half an hour talking to him every weekday. If he had an inkling of who Peter actually was to you, he’d have confronted you by now.

Chris, on the other hand, kept a sharp eye on you when Peter was around. As meticulous as you were about keeping up pretenses in public, sometimes you’d slip. Your smile would be a tad too bright when Peter walked through the door and took his usual seat. You’d giggle at his jokes too loud. You’d stare into his eyes too long. Signs too blatant for Chris to miss.

You’re just waiting for him to put the last piece in the puzzle.

“I’d… I’d have to ask Peter.” You take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “But, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Sure. Sounds like it’ll be fun. What time is it?”

Chris lays a hand on your forehead. “Temp seems fine. Pupils aren’t dilated. How many fingers am I holding up?”

You swat his hand down with a laugh. “Shut up.”

“Look, I know you probably don’t want me saying this out loud, but I’m glad you met Peter. We all are.”

“Why?” Evidently, you’re not that great at hiding your feelings as you thought.

Chris leans against the bar top, keeping an eye on the door just in case customers walked in. “Well, for starters, you literally just agreed to hang out with me for the first time since you started working here, which was—what—two years ago. And… you… I don’t know. You’re more open, y’know? Smiling and such.”

“I smiled before,” you say, a little defensive.

“Not like you do now. Before, it was all—,” Chris screws his mouth up. It’s strange. Alienated and wire-tight. The corners of his lips don’t fully come up, and it barely reaches his eyes. You instantly recognize it—the smile you hid behind.

Did you really smile like that? How is it that you never noticed how off-putting it was? If a server ever smiled at you like that, you’d assume they wished you disappeared off the face of the earth. Is that the smile people saw? More importantly, when did you stop putting it on?

“Two more strawberry milkshakes over here!” shouted one of the brain-freeze victims.

Chris hops to it. Always the perfect server. On his way to make the shakes, he says, “7 p.m.”

“I’ll be there.”

You weren’t going to confirm for Peter until he was there to answer for himself, but he doesn’t show. 11:30 a.m. and the rest of your shift flies by without a sight of him, which is strange, but not uncommon. Homework might have him tied up. September is a pretty busy month for schoolwork, and mid-terms are approaching, so he might be buried in assignments.

Worry doesn’t settle in until you’re getting ready for the music festival at 6:30 p.m., and Peter still hasn’t sent so much as a voicemail.

Evening summer sunlight filters in through your open window, the active sounds of Queens’ busy streets and subway station not allowing your room to fall quiet. Nights like this are perfect for outdoor festivals because it’s warm enough to sit in the grass and not bring a jacket.

Rather than enjoy the idea of getting out for the first time in years, your mind remains hooked on Peter.

It’s not like him not to leave a text if he’s caught up in other things. He’d make sure to tell you where he is, how far away. Since the beginning of this friendship, starting with his little notes, Peter’s constant communication wasn’t something you expected. But now that you do, this behavior just doesn’t match what you’re used to.

You pace the floor of your small bedroom, back and forth, wall to wall, abusively chewing your lower lip and turning your phone around in your hand, working up the nerve to call him, summoning up the will to voice your concern if he did answer.

When you do call, you get his voicemail. Trying again, you end up with the same result. Okay. He’s not picking up his phone.

Fear foregrounds your frustration. It bleeds into your words as you leave your fifth message. One after the other, they morph from mild concern to despairing panic. As the sun dips lower and lower on the horizon and the orange sunlight dwindles, so does your desire to go out.

Because… maybe you shouldn’t go. Maybe you should search for Peter. Finding any trace of him at all would be a stretch, and Chris might be upset about you ditching your plans the next time you see him, but you can’t possibly go out knowing something may be horribly wrong with Peter.

No. No, you won’t cancel plans like that. Peter is fine. Of course, he’s fine. He’s Spider-Man. His duties as a hero come first, no matter what. And he wouldn’t want you to stress so much about him.

Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he is okay. He’s alive. You feel it.

Somehow, you break the trance of your pacing and convince yourself to grab a cab ride to the park. When you arrive, the festival appears to be at a content standstill. It’s not as crowded as you assumed it would be for a Saturday night. Many of the attendants, ranging from all ages, are sitting on the grass, soaking up the fading rays of the sun while the bands finish up prepping. You’re greeted by the distinctive smell of hotdog vendors intermingled with ripening leaves.

There is nothing truly scenic about Cunningham Park, aside from the interspersed trees and trails. You’d been here a handful of times when you were younger, hanging out with friends during summer break, and one thing you loved about the park back then is how the sun shone through the leaves, casting an ethereal glow on nature.

You’re more appreciative of its beauty without the sun’s effect.

It wasn’t that hard finding Chris. All you had to do was look for the person most likely garnering friends from other groups. He’s on a blanket, seated in the center of the crowd and chatting with a group of three people.

When you’re close enough to be spotted, Chris’s face mouth out into a wide smile.

“You came!” Then his eyes roamed around. “Where’s Peter?”

You try for a carefree grin but let it fall when the effort became too much. “He couldn’t make it. School stuff.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine.” His smile drops fractionally, less joyful and more sympathetic. “I’m really glad you made it. Hey, guys. This is Y/N, my friend from work.”

You wave a little and hope for a genuine smile to grace your lips as they all scoot to make room for you on the blanket.

Chris introduces them all. He points to a buff, curly-haired guy named Dez, who you wouldn’t have guessed would be the type of guy to enjoy small park festivals. He looks like the kind of person who regularly crowd-surfs at huge concerts and somehow always winds up with a VIP pass. The next person is a slender girl named Asha, who has thick black hair knotted into a messy soccer bun and a glowing smile.

The last person Chris introduces you to is his Soulmate. You knew just by the way he said his name. Resounding. Reverent. Borderline fanatic. His name is Quint, and unlike the others, he wraps you up in a surprising hug. What’s even more surprising is you hugging back.

“Nice to finally meet you.” His voice is richly robust, exactly how you would expect someone with his Adonis-like face to sound. Two gorgeous, outgoing Soulmates just seems unfair.

“Nice to meet you, too.” You can’t help looking from Quint’s face to Chris’s, then back again, and wondering if this is what people see when they see you and Peter—a perfect match. “Chris has told me a lot about you. All great things.”

“He better,” Quint says, jokingly gazing at Chris as a blush flared across Chris’s cheeks. “And he’s told me a lot about you and Peter.”

There it goes again: people pairing you two. It’s hard not to notice how natural that sounds, as though you two were meant to be spoken about as an inseparable whole.

You brush off your startled expression as best you can and ask, “Good things, right?”

He nods, then shares a smile with Chris. “I would’ve liked to meet him.” You roughly translate that to mean, ‘I would’ve liked to meet you both.’ The blush on Chris’s face deepens into an embarrassingly bright shade of red when he catches your eye.

A plucked, low-pitched guitar string echoes out to the crowd and effectively commences the start of the music festival. You must’ve missed the band's introduction because they got right into their music, playing a melancholic pop song that sounded pretty good. You were more interested in the guitar riffs and melodic piano notes than the lyrics, but they’re no doubt about love.

Halfway into their set, your stomach growls, and you remember that you didn’t have anything to eat since you got off work. The whole thing with Peter staved off your hunger. He’s still in the front of your mind, but you’re doing your best to enjoy the night with Chris and his friends.

Standing up, you tell Chris, “I’m gonna get a hotdog.”

He tilts his chin up in acknowledgment, then goes back to swaying his head to the music.

You got up just in time to beat the line. There are only two vendors in the park, and they’d be slammed once the music hits its intermission. The one you’re at resides near the outskirts of the crowd, closest to where you left the group, and two people are in front of you.

You wish Peter were here.

Your hand touches the outline of your phone in your back pocket while you wrestle with the idea of calling him again. Maybe he’ll pick up this time.

You’re just about to unlock your phone when you hear someone calling your name—a girl.

The voice gets closer and more breathless, like they’re running at you full speed ahead and couldn’t reach you fast enough. You turn to the sound just as the body slams into you, yanking you out of line and clutching you to their frame.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You pull away and stare straight into her face, not trusting your own eyes. “Manda?"

...

Taglist: @alexandria-euphoria

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man x black!reader #spider-man x reader #soulmate au #post endgame #pre far from home #peter parker soulmate au #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #black!reader #slow burn #how to trust a heart

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otterskin · 3 years

Text

The Devil in The Window

Apologies for low image quality. This is a repost with some reworking for an earlier, longer breakdown I did of the Loki trailer. Now that episode 1 is out - (YAY I WAS RIGHT, TAKE THAT MEPHISTO FANS! But also I do look forward to his eventual appearance, you think I don’t also have a huge interest in satanic mythology and the devil’s appearances in literature? Because I certainly do.) - I think it’s a good time to review.

Anyway, here’s a new shot of the window, apologies for using the older ones I drew on before from hereafter though. They updated the design for the episode, so some details have changed - however, I think that the old one had some details that were actually better to demonstrate with, the biggest being the change to the chest shape. Still, I think the intent remains, and I suppose it’s all to the good I used the design that shows it clearer.

So, Norse Mythology. It’s been Christiannized. You can thank Snorri Sturluson for that, but you can google all about him later. Let’s just say that he made many Norse figures into equivalents for Christian ones. Baldur is Jesus, pure and a sacrificial lamb who dies for a greater good. And the devil is...Loki. Something the Marvel comics and the MCU have continued.

Here we have a devil, dressed in green and with a distinct shape on his chest:

Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...(yes they changed this design in the episode, but it still has this basic shape, just with another layer of gold above it.)

Ah. I’d say that cinches it. This is meant to be Loki. If you look at the devil’s hair, it also resembles Loki’s, being shoulder-length and kinda curly.

So, what’s devil-Loki doing? Laying an egg? Trying out a foot massager? For a second I thought it was a moon, but we see the moon over his left shoulder, amongst the stars. Which means this is - probably the Earth.

...Dammit; I live there.

So Earth is barren and being devoured by flames, likely caused by this Loki sitting atop of it (in a throne, no less). Aw gee, things look pretty bad, don’t they?

But wait - what’s that? Under the Earth (and, possibly, under the earth)?

It’s a plant. A shoot, to be exact.

Back to Ragnarok for a second. Ragnarok isn’t the apocalypse (something we see a lot of in this trailer - all of it seems to be exploring the end of days). Ragnarok is the fire meant to wipe out the old and fertilize the ground for the new. And after the gods have died, what happens? Well, Baldur emerges from Hel, one of the only surviving gods (hmm, seems him dying worked out, didn’t it?). He’s joined by Líf and Lífþrasir, who are the new first man and woman, who’s names mean ‘Life’ and who are pictured, usually, with plants and new life. It is they who are tasked who growing a new Yggdrasil after the destruction of the old. The previous first man and woman are Ask and Embla, meaning Ash Tree and Vine/Elm tree, so there’s a theme there.

So a new sprout, possibly a tree, growing out of the destruction of the old.

This fits with Loki’s role as understood in mythology. He checks the arrogance of the gods, including when they tried to achieve immortality (sorry, Baldur, nothing personal), and that keeps the gods at their best. After Loki is imprisoned, the gods become weak, unhelpful and foolish, and Yggdrasil starts to rot. Eventually Loki escapes and returns along with Surtur (who also resembles this figure) to burn it all to the ground. This is also referenced in Thor:Ragnarok, with Loki releasing Surtur in the Vault, a place of thematic importance to Loki and one that represents the hidden secrets and sins of Asgard). You could say Ragnarok continued into Infinity War, where Loki played an important part in aiding Thanos’ destruction, giving up the stone to protect his brother and essentially dooming the rest of the universe - but also ultimately leading to its salvation, even if, like Myth Loki, he wasn’t around to see it.

So, we see the Variant literally start a fire in the trailer -

- in fact, this whole trailer is awash in flame -

It’s fire, fire everywhere and Variant Loki’s setting them!

Damn, even our ‘hero’ Loki is burning stuff down! Does this mean that Loki is doomed, always meant to be an avatar of death and toasty destruction?

Well...let’s go back to that stained glass. Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...

And there’s something else...the bottom of the Earth is being lit up, and not by fire. Light appears to be coming off this little plant.

What colour is this plant again? That’s right, green. Green is the colour of new life and growth and change and...hang on, I’ve heard that before, too..

Hang on hang on HANG ON... let me have a look at the shape again.

That’s...a letter. An L? For Loki? Like in the title sequence?

Wait...no, a different letter. An older letter. After all, Loki is old Norse. How do you spell his name in that again?

ᛚᛟᚲ ᛁ

And ENHANCE on that third letter!

This, my friends, is a Kenaz/Kaunaz, or what would become 'K' in our alphabet. It is also known as the 'Loki Rune' (and the Ulcer Rune, for some reason. I suspect Odin understands why). It’s used to spell his name, but is also used on his own to represent him. Heck, it's even his Superman 'S' in the comics:

Runes are more than letters - they are symbols for concepts. So what else does it mean?

Primarly, it means ‘torch’.

And also ‘knowledge’ (ken). As well as ‘growth, change, the search for truth, decay, arrogance, elitism, feminine, kinship and creativity.’

...Okay, that’s a lot, but you have to admit it fits.

More specifically, it means ‘Mastery of the Fire’. As in, someone who has learned to tame fire so that it is helpful, not harmful. To bring light and, symbolically, knowledge.

There’s another way Loki’s been associated with fire - in the Wagner Ring Cycle, Das Rheingold, the opera that inspired much the Thor films’ aesthetic and certainly their helmets, Loki is called ‘Loge’, which means ‘Fire’. He’s usually dressed to match, too -

Many trickster figures are associated with fire. They are usually called ‘Fire-bringers’ - See: Raven, Lucifer, Prometheus, etc. They are often complex figures with a foot in different worlds, but who nonetheless help mankind with the gift of ‘fire’ - although they usually pay for it, and tend to be self-destructive.

(Side note. Lucifer means light-bringer, which is what luciferase is named after. Because it glows. Which is helpful in labs. In case someone needed to know that.)

Moving from a destructive fire-starter to a fire-bringer seems like a great character arc for Loki to take, especially given his rehabilitation in pop culture, the comics, and even wider culture. Loki has gone from being seen as an evil, deviant, destructive character to one who’s seen as a patron of the arts and creativity, of stories rather than lies. Heck, some scholars of Norse Mythology even posit that he’s the closet thing to a protagonist Norse Mythology has, so I guess that backfired, Snorri!). Being dressed in green and with the sprout clearly also being stylized after his Kaunaz, there’s foreshadowing that he’ll be capable of growing good things even out of ashes.

So, to sum up: Being ‘Satan’ sounds pretty bad, but with a little letter re-arranging like we see in the title sequence, you can be...

...practically a saint. Maybe even a saviour.

Merry Christmas, everybody.

#runes #loki #loki 2021 #loki analysis #meta #reblog #rework

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.18 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has already dealt with the local sheriff about his adventures in the local woods. Seems like Edge might have a thing or three to say.

~~*~~

Read ‘Electric Boogaloo’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was funny how some things become automatic. Stretch was still thinking about Buford when Edge came into the store not long after the sheriff left. Still thinking about those strange white eyes of his, wondering at exactly how much he could see. How much, how far, how deep did it go. Stretch knew a little something himself about seeing a bit too much.

Still, habits were habits. Even though his mind wasn’t necessarily working in the here and now, Stretch automatically stood up straight and greeted Edge when he came in, customer service skills were a heck of a learned trait, even if he was the only one who worked here that had them.

“morning, hey, what’s up? what do you—" need, he didn’t get to say. He barely had time to notice that Edge didn’t look like his normal gorgeous self, hips notwithstanding. Sure, he was wearing his normal motorhuckle gear and he was walking like he was on his way to kill Captain America. But he looked pale, his skull chalk-white and stark, his eye lights faded to a shade closer to dull pink.

That wasn’t what cut off his ‘can i help you’ spiel. Nope, that was Edge stalking right over to the counter and around it into the register area. Stretch found himself roughly pulled into Edge’s arms and held in a painfully tight hug that nearly threatened to crack ribs.

Okay? This was new but fuck it if Stretch wasn’t going to go for it. He wrapped both arms around Edge and squeezed back, relished the feel of that long, lean body against his own, even buffered under a layer of leather. “um. hi?”

Edge said nothing, only held on, with all ten fingers digging in through the back of Stretch’s t-shirt and damned if he was gonna try fight his way loose. Was it his imagination or was Edge shaking a little? Or maybe that was the earth moving under his feet because Edge smelled so good, no bone cologne could compare. Like spice and woodsmoke, like the heavenly pies he made for Mama’s.

Nothing to be done for it, might as well dive into the deep end and see if he could drown. Stretch closed his sockets and basked in it, reveled in it. Maybe this was some weird frosting on top of an already bizarre cake but Stretch really wanted his slice.

After a minute, Edge was showing no signs of letting up and much as Stretch would’ve been perfectly fine standing like this all day, probably he should say something. It’d be pretty hard to run register if he was stuck to Edge like a conjoined twin and considering that they were sort of the same person, maybe better not to risk it.

It was just a damn shame that Stretch was so shitty at digging beneath the layers of other people’s traumas. Hell, he could barely take a shovel to his own.

He managed to work up enough air to wheeze out, “is…something wrong?” A horrible thought occurred. What if he wasn’t the only person the lady ghoul went to visit last night? Maybe she took the nickel tour of the woods, maybe Buford’s all-seeing eye blinked and missed something. “is frisk okay?”

“Yes,” Edge choked out. His voice was muffled into Stretch’s shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Stretch shifted in his arms and only managed about an inch in any direction. “don’t take this the wrong way, but as fine as this feels, you don’t seem fine.”

That didn’t get any reply. Instead, Edge loosened his grip just enough to press his face into the hollow of Stretch’s collarbone where he inhaled deeply, mouth opened as if he wanted to taste whatever scent gathered there, get the whole experience.

Um. Holy shit. Okay, well, that was a fetish Stretch never knew he had, and if he wasn’t pinned like a sardine in Edge’s kung-fu grip, he might’ve honest to angel flailed at the feel of damp, hot breath against his clavicles. Every time Edge decided to go through his scratch ‘n sniff routine, it sent willie wonkers tingling right up his spine and right down his pants. All he could do was grit his teeth and stare blankly up at the ceiling as he tried desperately not to embarrass himself any more than the usual.

Finally, all too soon, Edge drew away. He took two steps back, putting some distance between them. He seemed almost embarrassed now and Stretch could only reluctantly let him go.

He was really, really grateful for his work apron right about now; good for catching dust and gook, with a side bonus of hiding inconvenient boners. Hopefully it wasn’t the not-at-all-a-pencil-in-his-pocket that chased Edge away. “not that i mind, like, really not, but you think you could let me in on what that was all about?”

“I’m sorry,” Edge said, stiffly. He crammed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked anywhere but at Stretch.

“uh, nope,” Stretch shook his head, “no apologies, hugs are free real estate.” He’d been this close to Edge before a couple of times but always before there had been distractions. Now looking at him was the distraction and Stretch let his gaze linger on the razer-sharp lines of his cheekbones, the tight narrowing of his eye sockets. The crack that ran through his left socket was obviously old, the edges worn relatively smooth, smoother than their owner.

Edge still didn’t look at him, not directly, anyway. A flick of his eye lights towards Stretch, then back away as he said, tightly. “We came very close to losing you last night. It was…upsetting.”

Oh.

Well, good news traveled fast, didn’t it, basically at the speed of light around these parts. He wondered glumly if Red was in his apartment busily composing a profanity-laden symphony titled ‘I Told You So.’

“How did you know?” Stretch sighed out. Maybe Frisk was tuned in to the local airwaves or Edgar Allen might branch out into branches instead of corn gossip.

“Buford,” Edge admitted. “He is the town constable, he looks after the town. Literally, in his case.”

Also had a big mouth, seemed like. “yeah, uh, he showed me his eyes.”

“Did he?” Edge seemed surprised, then pleased. “He usually wears his sunglasses. He rarely takes them off when he’s on duty because outsiders tend to find his eyes unsettling. But yes, it’s his duty to watch out for problems and he does it well.”

Stretch nodded slowly, “must be tough on him sometimes, seeing all that.” He had a little personal experience in that.

“Buford does his duty,” Edge said with a certain finality. Welp, looked like that topic was done and Stretch was fine with that since Edge was starting to look a little calmer. His eye lights weren’t on Stretch’s but lower, focused more on the mouth region and when Stretch flicked his tongue across his teeth nervously, those crimson lights went heavy and dark.

To his disappointment, Edge didn’t go for Ginormous Hug 2: Electric Boogaloo. Instead, he reeled back, shaking himself visibly and turning towards the door. “Well. I only wanted to check in on you, I should be going.”

“wait!” Stretch blurted and Edge hesitated, raising one browbone. “don’t go, not yet.”

He waved a hand in offering at the stool behind the counter and after a moment of hesitation, Edge stepped around the dog and took it. Mutt never stirred, burrowed down in the blanket Red had laid down for him, snoring away. Good thing they hadn’t been in the market for a guard dog.

Stretch hopped up on the counter to sit, (hey, his butt was cleaner than the whole store had been when he first got here) and wondered what the hell to do now. He’d wanted Edge to stay and now he didn’t know what to talk about. Every other chat they’d had was about some kind of Backwater weirdness, the peanut butter and pickle sandwich version of a conversation. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to have a white bread and butter chat.

Edge seemed to agree. He swiped a finger along one of the shelves behind the counter and checked the results, finding it to be relatively dust-free. “The store is looking much better since my brother hired you on.”

“yeah,” Stretch latched on to that topic gratefully, it was marginally better than bringing up the weather. “try to keep up on it. he’s paying me well enough for it, plus room and board, figured i can do my mr clean impression.” He gave the top of his skull a pat. “i’ve already got the bald part down.”

Edge made a rough, scoffing sound and even that was somehow delicious in that voice of his. “I suspect most of what fills up your board comes from my kitchen.”

Stretch suspected the same but leapt to his landlord’s defense, anyway, he owned Red that much and more. “hey, red is a damn fine microwave wrangler when he puts his mind to it.” Okay, so that was less of a leap than a trip and miss, but he’d tried. Maybe better to steer the topic boat out of the rapids and into calmer water. “my bro likes to cook, too.”

“Is he very good?” Edge leaned forward curiously, propping his chin up on a hand.

Woah, wait, abandon ship, that was not calmer waters, that was a storm a’brewing, a freaking typhoon. “good is relative,” Stretch said stoutly.

“Ah,” One corner of Edge’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Rest assured, I would never force you to disparage your brother’s cooking. If it’s any comfort, my recipes were somewhat unique when we first came here as well. Like the garden, it took some time for my skills to come into bloom.”

“seriously?” There was a little too much naked relief in that one word but fuck it, Blue wasn’t here to hear it, “so how many years until he’s less ‘nailed it’ and more ‘chef’s table’?”

That half-smile widened. “Time is also relative, as are brothers. How is your brother, I’m assuming he’s still back in Ebott. Have you spoken to him since you came here?”

Welp, he’d avoided the storm only to end up in shark-infested waters, wasn’t that just his luck, “sort of,” Stretch hedged.

Edge’s teeth parted in a silent ‘ah’ as he successfully decoded that message. “You texted him. Well, that’s better than leaving him completely in the dark.”

“i think he’s doing okay. he was even before i left.” He really hoped so, but then, Blue settled in easily enough from the start. From the Human’s perspective, his bro looked a little like he’d stepped out of some kind of cartoon. He was small and adorable, his starry eye lights in his huge sockets were as cute as if Disney blessed him from beyond the grave. Stretch didn’t begrudge his brother for that, ‘course he didn’t, but that didn’t make his own experiences easy cheesy. “frisk was pretty right about ebott. when it comes to monsters, it sure isn’t backwater.”

“I’m sorry.” Said with enough quiet sincerity to make Stretch shift uncomfortably.

He shrugged weakly. “eh, not your fault.”

“No, but I can still let you share your pains.” Edge reached up and took his hand. He rubbed a scarred thumb gently over his knuckles and Stretch caught his breath. “You know, I used to dream about coming to the surface. Back in my world, in the Underground. Frisk told you that it was a place of LV, not love. My brother and I spent much of our time there simply struggling to survive.” The reminiscence in Edge’s voice held no hint of fondness, but there was a certain faint wistfulness. “I had such grand dreams of what the surface world would be like back then. Hope was difficult to come by in my universe, I never truly believed a human would come and when they did, well.” Edge chuckled and there was the fondness missing from before. “Frisk was not at all what I imagined.”

“did the surface world live up to your dreams?” Stretch asked, curiously. His own dreams of the Aboveground were shaken to their foundations barely an hour into the sunlight, when the first Humans to arrive greeted them not with welcome, but with automatic rifles.

“In some ways,” Edge said. “Mostly, it’s very different from what I imagine. But like Frisk, not necessarily in a bad way.”

“ebott is sure fucking different then i imagined,” Stretch only realized how hard he was squeezing Edge’s hand when both of their joints popped. He loosened his grip, then pulled away entirely, picking up the pen from the counter to fiddle with; at least if he broke that, he’d be the only one stained. “doesn’t matter, anyway. i’m not there right now, am i.”

“Indeed not. You’re here, and Backwater is probably as different from Ebott as it is the Underground.” Edge stood in a jangling, creaking rhapsody of leather and buckles. “On that note, I do need to get going.”

Stretch stood too, hopping down from the counter. Much as he’d like Edge to stay, he did have some work to get done and who knew what Edge needed to get back to. “thank you for checking in on me.”

“Of course.” Too fast for Stretch to do more than blink, Edge leaned in and Stretch stood frozen as he pressed a chaste kiss to his cheekbone, the delicate scrape of his teeth almost ticklish against sensitive bone. He pulled back before Stretch managed to gather up all his scattered wits, and his smile was the soft, real one as he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

“soon,” Stretch parroted dumbly. He stood there like an idiot and watched Edge leave, only coming back to himself at the jangle of the bell over the door. Then he cursed himself, roundly and in every language he knew, including modified flamespeak. Smooth moves, there, Marvin Gaye, couldn’t even turn your head for a real kiss? Just stood there with crotch plug store book and didn’t even try to kick it up a notch? But he’d gotten one hell of a hug and a hand fondle, that was worth nearly getting eaten by Lady Cthulhu out there.

Well, almost.

“mind not getting your sop all over my counter?”

Stretch whirled around, barely managing not to trip over his own feet, to see Red standing in the hallway entrance. He was leaning heavily on his cane with a brutally unimpressed look on his face.

Fuck.

“i’m sorry—” Stretch began and faltered, unsure of what to say. He’d tried to listen to Red, he really had. He’d warned Stretch against starting anything with his bro from the beginning, offered plenty of warnings against rebound fucks and people getting hurt, and Stretch had tried. Except he hadn’t, had he, not really, and he could try to blame Edge’s hips and that gorgeous voice all he wanted; in the end, it was his fault, just like everything else. He hadn’t really been fighting that hard, why would he, it wasn’t like he wanted to win.

Red only sighed heavily and waved him off. “ain’t nothing to be sorry for. toldja before, i ain’t worried about my bro. you’re the one keepin’ me awake at night.”

“speaking of worrying,” Stretch took a deep breath before plunging forward, away from the sharks and heading into the shallows where the piranhas swam. “look, before anyone else decides to spill the beans, i need to tell you something.”

Red held up a hand and Stretch fell silent. “lemme get my coffee first.”

Coffee sounded better than it had any right to and, in his chest, Stretch’s soul gave an uncomfortable lurch like it could hop out and get a cup of its own. Hopefully, he asked, “can i get some?”

“yeah, sure,” Red turned back towards the apartment and tossed back over his shoulder, “whatcha want in it?”

“honey?” May as well dream big.

“yeah, darlin’?”

What? ”No!” Stretch blurted. “I mean…I didn’t…”

“yeah, yeah,” Red snickered. “i gotcha, brat.”

It was both entirely too long and much too quickly that Red made his way back with two heavy white mugs that looked as if they’d been stolen from Mama’s diner. He handed one to Stretch and settled in to lean against the counter, sipping from his own. “so, this about why you and my bro were cozying up behind the counter?”

“uh, sort of,” Stretch hedged. He stalled by taking a sip of his coffee, glorying in the thick, over-sweetened brew. “he came by because buford got a hold of him.”

Red lurched upright as if someone goosed him right on his tailbone. Hot coffee sloshed over his hand and he hissed, shaking his wet, stinging fingers as he demanded, “he did what now? what the fuck happened?”

“it’s not that bad.”

It was a weak attempt at best, not that it mattered. Red didn’t fall for it in the slightest. He didn’t move, there was no noticeable change in his breathing or posture, but the sardonic humor that seemed to cling to Red like another shirt evaporated entirely and left behind nothing but cold sincerity. “buford don’t exactly text, he don’t get ahold of anyone unless—” Red stopped and gave Stretch a coolly assessing glance that he squirmed beneath. Quietly, he said, “kid, what did you do?”

“i didn’t do it!” Stretch blurted and no amount of defending himself to his own brother or even the Ebott police could have prepared him for this. “the dog ran off, but i didn’t go into the woods! not until—there was this…this thing!” Stretch gestured wildly, trying ineffectively to convey with skinny bone hands the shadowy, awful creature that lured him into the dark last night. He couldn’t hold back a shudder of revulsion, simply thinking about it was filling him with a renewed sense of horror. “it looked like a woman and then it didn’t, she was singing, she was doing something, and i couldn’t stop myself, i couldn’t even think!”

He stopped, panting, and Red said nothing. He only stood there statue-still and Stretch would have given about anything for the door to open, the bell to jangle as someone looking for a fresh supply of ass wipers broke that awful silence.

Desperately, Stretch pressed on, letting out a nervous laugh. “anyway, i’m okay. she didn’t touch me or bite me or anything. i got out okay.” He didn’t mention the bone dragon, wasn’t even sure why, but Red was still frozen and silent over hearing about one terrifying encounter, maybe better not to mention two.

“red?” Stretch tried, hating how his voice sounded so small and forlorn. In a dismal corner of his mind, he was already mentally packing his bags. He couldn’t go back to Ebott, not now, not yet, but where else could he go, what other job could he possibly find? Maybe a waiter at Mama’s or maybe the thrift shop needed a helping hand. He didn’t know. The little money he had wouldn’t last long and definitely not in a bigger city. He didn’t really have any options, no choices at all.

He jerked back as Red suddenly jolted into movement, limping around the counter without his cane. He staggered almost drunkenly and then swung around to violently ram his fist into the first rack of the shelves. The wooden frame rocked and groaned, scattering boxes and cans to the floor on either side. A small bag of cornmeal fell and burst open, scattering dusty yellow across the floorboards.

“i…i’ll just…” Stretch couldn’t say go, he couldn’t, saying it would make this real, and he couldn’t let it be real. He took a step towards the hallway, tasting heavy tears on the back of his tongue.

Red’s voice stopped him, “kid.”

Stretch stood there and watched Red wrap both arms around himself. The fingers of one hand were streaked with marrow, he’d probably cracked his phalanges, but Red only shuddered faintly, drawing in a long breath and letting it out in a shaky rattle as he said, “if i’d’ve known she was awake, i woulda warned ya.”

Oh.

Oh, that made a terrible amount of sense and it didn’t make Stretch feel one fucking bit better to realize that Red wasn’t mad at him.

“it’s fine, red,” Stretch said, gently. It was hard to bank his own fears, but he managed, “it’s not your fault. i’m okay.”

Red heaved out a hitching little sigh and Stretch didn’t need Buford’s powers or his own magic to see that Red didn’t believe that, not even a little.

“okay,” he muttered under his breath, low and indistinct, “okay, okay.” Then louder, “okay, kid, get on out of here.”

“you’re firing me?” Stretch blurted, horrified. He’d begun to believe it was all right, more fool he, hadn’t he had the rug ripped out from under him enough times by now, when would he ever learn?

“what?” Red said, aghast. “fuck no! take a little time off, is all, after a shitty night like that, you need it. go see a movie, ‘wizard of oz’ ’s playin’, think it’ll be right up your alley.”

Relief left him weak, but he made no move towards the door. “but. your hand?”

“what about my hand?” Red raised his browbones and his hand at once and Stretch stared at the clean, pristine bones in confusion, what the fuck, he was sure he’d seen—

“okay, but,” Stretch still didn’t want to leave, some part of him vaguely convinced that if he left he wouldn’t be able to come back, like this shabby little store was some kind of fae place. “here, let me clean up.”

“i can fucking clean,” Red said impatiently. “been doing it since long before you got here.” He hooked his perfectly unbroken thumb at the door, “now, git! scoot!”

It seemed better not to comment on Red’s cleaning skills. Stretch hung up his apron and obediently scooted while Red limped over to the broom.

Outside, the temperature was just above a swelter. Stretch headed towards the theater even as the kids pulled up by the shop and dropped their bikes to head in, about five minutes too late.

Red had the right idea, he decided tiredly. A movie sounded like a good idea right about now. If, that was, he could stay awake through the opening credits.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #welcome to backwater

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funny-house · 3 years

Note

What do you think happens during the aggressive sequence when opal’s mom was singing her song?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I have technically answered this before!! but since it was always always always attached to another post or rushed and summarized blah!! I will make this post

The Official

Opal Wine Mom Flashback Analysis tw: spousal abuse, drug use, etc

insert that Always Sunny meme of the disheveled guy at the cork board cause we are going in---

First things first!! Flat answer, then explanation so the answer is: The mom was having memory flashbacks to events within the house, one if not all of them, depicting her being physically abused by her husband, mirror man! A lot of people find that shocking to hear at first, but let me explain I got a lotta proof !!!

Let’s start from literally the tippy top The sequence starts by zooming into the mom’s eye. This represents that whatever is taking place in this flashy sequence is all about her, what she’s been through, and what she’s seen. It’s her perspective. That, combined with how it seems to paralyze her while she’s going through it and her eyes roll to the back of her head until it ends, implies it’s something she’s trying to force away or doesn’t want to think about!

So frame by frame analysis, this is film theory now!! first mental image: A windowpane at night that resembles jail bars. ( maybe the one seen on the bottom floor of the house in outside shots? ) A parallel to Claire’s window and a symbol for her feeling of being trapped-- something she brings up multiple times in her dialogue. She’s stuck here. She doesn’t want to be here but something is holding her by force and she feels helpless to escape it.

Next scene! Hard cut to rapidly trying to call on the phone. They type 9-1-1. The music starts to fade into screaming. Next scene! The mother’s head is in the far corner and the window is seen behind her, a reminder that she feels trapped, as she is literally seen being slapped in the back of the head by a hand. Next scene! A shot of their bedroom(whatever room she’s in!) door as her face melts across the screen Next scene! The mother screaming in a way that flaps her mouth in crazy waves and reveals her teeth and gums exactly like how Claire yells near the end Next scene! She’s shown laying down with pills dancing over her head. Next scene! her face melting below a distortion of multiple shots of her room’s door Next scene! A whole bunch of stuff in rapid fire!! An array of eyeballs and slapping palms and her face distorting and pills and something being thrown and shattering overlayed on her face and then a zoom out from the prison bar-like windows and more screaming bleh Starting to form a picture here, right? Somebody has been very badly abusing this chic. Bad enough that she’s called the police... probably for a domestic dispute, I bet. You can even see a very nasty wound/bruise on her head, just like she’s depicted being most often hit in her flashback!! On the face!!

And in higher quality than this little picture i resize so it doesn’t take up the screen lol, you can pretty clearly see reddening and discoloring-- that’s not just another dent in her weird shaped head, she’s been hit! No other character has visible wounds on their design like that, not even Claire. So why do I assume it’s Mirror Man? Well first, this world exists on a little set yknow they make a point of zooming out and showing as much, all their world is that house and that billboard. If someone not in that house was damaging her, they’d have to establish their existence or this would be.... a weird artistic choice tbh? The visual equivalent of randomly changing the subject lmao So it’s gotta be the dad or the grandpa heck-- it might be both, but I think it’s more likely the grandpa is a passively unpleasant company to her. He’s probably very mean and unstable- like he is to Claire, and-- honestly, for reasons i mentioned in a different post-- probably not even her grandpa but someone she was saddled with-- BUT he’s not the person in power. It’s just not likely she’d be afraid for her life enough to call the police on a badly disabled grandpa who can barely move without falling. Above all? He couldn’t be the one holding her hostage in a loveless marriage.

LET’S jump to the very very start of the short! Every character has a montage of items that represent their problems as people. Mirror Man is obsessed with self image and is shown frustratedly throwing a tissue at a fashion magazine of a ridiculously exaggerated man’s face, the grandpa is shown putting out a cigarette but he’s missing his cigarette holder and just dabbing it on a TV program list, which is reckless and dangerous and shows a little disdain for TV itself. The mom? She knocks her wine..... onto a romance novel. A novel Jack Stauber deliberately drew the cover of himself about loving a serial killer that depicts another exaggeratedly idealized hot dude... strangling a woman whose smiling and dying in his arms. A toxic relationship, I imagine! Looks like someone!!! is having!! relationship problems, maybe So let’s listen to how the mom describes the problem to her daughter “ It’s a virtuous cycle ” “ And they never repent how I want them to ” “ Our adversaries are in denial ” So it sounds like to me...... not only is she prone to being too forgiving of a certain someone, and that’s why she stays in a horrible situation in a horrible relationship... but that certain someone both gives insincere apologies... and denies that their actions are severe enough to be criticized.

Sound familiar? Maybe it sounds like the insincere apology of a certain mirror loving duderino who insulted his daughter’s ankles and promptly excused himself for having a brain that likes fixing mistakes without ever taking back what he said? And then promptly said this habit of his was uhhhh

“ That’s just a part of my journey, yknow? I’m like a tiny growing thing.” “ Everybody’s so mad at me, like, i’m growing though-- why be so negative? Why do people look at me-- like you probably are right now?” Feign innocence, empty promises to improve, reflect all attempts to convey that you’ve hurt someone? All without even being asked about it, btw lmao? It sounds like someone has something they should be apologizing for... ( You’ll also notice all the 3 adults have a way of talking as if speaking in general terms-- like they’re talking about everybody in the whole world or to an audience rather than to... a little girl they have a personal relationship with-- but i think that’s just expressing how disconnected and self interested they are. You kinda have to read between the lines to get what they’re saying. )

ANYWAYS this is all my take on it, at least ! Hope it made sense!! If... any of you actually read all this junk lmao

#Opal #Hope #Wine Mom #Jack Stauber #lol just tell me TL;DR i will understand #mail time !!#Anonymous

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my-happy-little-bean · 3 years

Text

The Bookkeeper - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea

pairings: logicality, prinxiety words: 3378 chapter warnings: mild swearing, referenced death (i.e. parents, grandparent) summary: amidst thunder and lightning: an explanation of the past.

[read on ao3] [masterlist]

< previous chapter

—

“I have decided that what you have just told me is impossible.”

Logan’s grandfather laughed. He shifted in his seat on the bed, looking down at a blanket-bundled Logan: nine years old, but older in his head.

“Proof’s in the pudding, Little Einstein,” Roman replied before his grandfather could respond.

“Actually, the proof is right in front of me. It is you. And also, it is not real, because you are not real.”

This time, Roman laughed. Logan’s grandfather sighed, settling into an amused smile.

“I mean, I don’t know what else to tell you, kid.” He tossed a small ball of navy magic back and forth between his palms. Logan watched with a suspicious, but intrigued, look. “You have always told me that I was like magic, so I’m not sure why you’re surprised.”

“Because I thought it was a– a…”

“Figure of speech?” Roman filled in.

“Figure of speech! Yes.” Logan then looked at Roman, realizing who spoke. He narrowed his eyes at him and tried to swat at Roman. “I coulda figured that out myself!”

Roman just laughed again, doing a little somersault in the air to dodge Logan’s hand. Logan’s grandfather patted his shoulder for Roman to sit on.

“Look, kid, I had to tell you eventually,” his grandfather said, a bit more seriously this time. “You don’t know it yet, but I can feel all your powers manifesting early. Too early. Usually a young wizard comes into their powers between the age of twenty and thirty, but you...you are different. I am not sure why, but someone needs to teach you how to control it into something you can use.”

Logan frowned. “Did dad or papa have magic?”

His grandfather blinked. The room was silent for a little while before he hesitantly said, “I never got to find out.”

Logan shrugged, trying to brush off a creeping sadness he didn’t quite understand.

“So what does all this mean?”

His grandfather’s smile grew a bit more.

“It means that we have to start training. And Roman here–” Roman threw some red dust in the air, as if throwing confetti– “is going to help me teach you about your magic.”

“What if I don’t want magic?” Logan huffed. His grandfather paused.

“You like books, don’t you?”

Logan nodded diligently. That seemed about right.

“Well magic manifests itself in the things that bring you joy; the things you know to be true about your life and the direction it follows. Perhaps that is how you have your powers now — your father loved you dearly, after all.”

A twinkle of navy swirled around the rim of his grandfather’s irises. Logan watched in awe, as if he could see a whole universe unfolding in his eyes.

“And so whether you want it or not, magic will always be a part of you,” he finally said, “for as long as you believe in the stories it will tell.”

—

Logan walked down the stairs holding a tray with a porcelain teapot, three tea cups, and cups of sugar and honey. He moved towards Patton, who was sitting in the moss-green armchair in the shop’s seating area next to the window. He felt like a ghost walking through his shop, which was now stripped completely of its secrets.

‘ How is this happening, how is this happening, how...’

“Er, I only had Earl Grey.” Logan set the tray down on the small, circular coffee table and sat across from Patton. He felt the red cushion shift beneath him as he anxiously squirmed, restless, watching as Patton poured himself a cup.

“That’s, uh, fine.” Patton stirred in some honey, distracted by Roman, who had settled on top of the tray and was slowly tipping towards him a cup half-full of sugar. Logan rolled his eyes.

“It’s a copious amount of sugar,” he awkwardly filled in. “I keep telling him that it is unfit for frequent consumption.”

“So you can...see that,” Patton said slowly, still gawking at Roman, who was drinking in sugar and starting to glow bright red.

“Yes. I can see that.”

“So I’m not in some weird dream.”

“No, and I don’t know why Roman would say that. There are many more believable lies. Like drug consumption.”

Patton paled. Roman lifted his head from behind the rim of the cup and glared at Logan.

“Forgive the horrific Fray-kenstein for his monstrous attempts at apologizing for creating a scene,” Roman finally spoke up. “Though in our defense, you did kinda just waltz in here after hours.”

“The door was open! How was I supposed to know that you guys were doing some– some weird book ritual!”

Logan squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It was not a ritual, Patton.”

“Then what was it?!” Patton looked at Logan with frantic, puppy eyes. “What was the– the trees, the leaves, the books, this– this floating thing–”

“Hey! I am not a thing! I’m Roman!”

“I’m sorry,” Patton quickly corrected himself, “what the heck is Roman and what the heck is going on?!”

Logan looked over at Roman, who shrugged helplessly.

“Have you...have you ever read Harry Potter? ”

“Duh.”

“Well it’s...it’s not like that. Well, it sort of is? Why did I say that, such a poor example…”

“ Seriously, Specs?”

“Look, I never had to explain this to anyone before, okay?!”

A hush filled the shop. Patton was still looking at Logan, wide-eyed but now afraid. Even Roman was uncharacteristically quiet.

Logan sighed. He snuck a glance out the window. Slow and steady: pitter, patter, pitter, patter. The world outside Fray and Far Fables spun threads of rain around the various buildings and the streetlamps lining the empty roads. The sound drowned out the sound of his racing heart.

Logan faced Patton, now more earnest than ever.

“I don’t know if I ever told you this, Patton, but after my parents passed, I lived here with my grandfather.”

“He lived in the shop?”

“As do I,” Logan replied promptly, pouring himself a cup. “I inherited this establishment after he too passed away.” He smiled to himself. “He was very fond of the shop. Said it harboured many stories beyond just books. I never thought to ask him what he meant.”

Patton watched intently while Roman, Logan noticed, remained silent.

“Anyway, I lived with my grandfather, and my grandfather loved books. Or, more accurately, he loved stories. It’s where he drew his magic from– the first magic that was born into my family– which is why he opened this shop. He always told me that ‘magic manifested itself in the things that bring you joy’.”

Patton gave him a small smile. “Okay, that’s pretty cute.”

“I suppose so,” Logan hummed. “I am unsure where my parents– well, my father, not my papa– drew magic from, but they passed at around the same time their magic started appearing. Hence, my grandfather theorized that it was passed on to me at an abnormally young age. That fact does not matter as much, though. What matters is that due to many circumstances outside of my understanding, one thing remains constantly known — I have known of magic all my life.”

To demonstrate, Logan grew a small ball of navy sparks in the centre of his palm. Patton’s eyes glowed. Logan caught sight of a wondrous reflection in Patton’s irises.

“Oh that’s nothing ,” Roman finally spoke up. “Logan has always been tame with his magic — let me show you what it’s really for.”

Before Logan could protest, Roman flew off the tray and up into the air in rollercoaster-esque loops, a fiery trail of red magic burning his path into visibility. Patton’s jaw dropped as Roman proceeded to cast spells that lifted nearby books off the shelves one by one. They all danced in the air under Roman’s control as he conducted a hummed melody for the books to waltz to.

Patton giggled as a book circled around his head, red dust flipping idly through its pages. Logan could faintly smell flowers from its pages before it closed. The book promptly returned back to Roman’s array of air-bound books, which danced their way back to the shelves.

When the spectacle ended, Patton clapped and cheered; it was the most relaxed and reassured Patton had looked since walking into the store. Logan couldn’t help but become puzzled as to why that was.

“I suppose that this is the perfect way for me to segue into my next subject,” Logan said, narrowing his eyes at a coy-looking Roman, who sat back in front of his teacup. “Roman and the book nooks.”

“Book nooks,” Patton echoed. He looked down at Roman. “Is that what I had walked into? With– with the forest and stuff?”

“Yessiree, cardigan-clad-clod.” Roman did some jazz hands, red sparks flying from the tips of his fingers. “That’s all me!”

“Partially you,” Patton blurted out. Logan raised an eyebrow at the hesitant correction, and Patton faced him once more, as if looking for confirmation.

“Well, if...if your grandfather drew magic from books and opened this shop, I assume you also draw magic from books too, right? Since you’re also running the shop?”

An unknown pang of guilt and heartache scorched Logan’s chest for a brief moment. He masked it with a shrug.

“I am unaware of where my magic truly comes from,” Logan quietly said. “No one is allowed to tell me, not even Roman; the origin of magic must be stumbled upon, not taught.” He cleared his throat. “But books...that is probably where it comes from, yes.”

Patton frowned, but sipped his tea, motioning at Logan to continue his spiel. Logan nodded, adjusting his tie.

“But yes, most of the book-magic is Roman. Roman has been around since I was younger, and perhaps been around before then.”

“Yup! I have been the Fray’s fantastic familiar since dear ol’ Eric Fray himself.” Roman beamed proudly. “See, when a wizard is born, they attract familiar magic from the astral plane — the place where souls go before descending to other planes. It’s sort of an in-between stop before all the available afterlives.”

“Wowza,” Patton murmured, though Logan could tell he was borderline confused.

“That stuff doesn’t really matter though.” Roman waved his hand dismissively. “In a nutshell, since I was the familiar of Logan’s grandpa, I inherited parts of his magic.”

“And consequently, Roman’s familiar magic hinged on aiding my grandfather in his storytelling via book nooks.”

Roman beamed with pride. “Eric used to call me the bookkeeper.”

Logan nodded, standing up and slowly walking past the shelves lining the walls. He was searching for one book in particular, where was it...

“Book nooks, for lack of a better word, are some sort of portal,” Logan explained, still fishing through each book. “If you were to focus hard enough, Roman could simply transport us into any world a book depicts. Most of the time, however, Roman’s magic will just choose small ‘nooks’ inside the novels– memorable scenes that showcase important themes, significant locations, et cetera– and it will manifest itself into the real world.”

Eventually, he found what he was looking for, letting out a small ‘ah’ as he pulled it off its shelf. He returned back to Patton, book in his lap.

“Take this book, for example. Jule Verene’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea.” Logan smiled warmly at its cover. “It was the first book nooks Roman and my grandfather ever opened for me after I discovered my powers. Roman simply worked his magic under my grandfather’s guidance, and together they re-created the interior of the Nautilus out of my bed. The rest of my room became submerged in water, and suddenly, I was in the ocean.”

“That sounds incredible,” Patton awed.

“Incredible and extravagant,” Logan muttered, though snuck a smile at Roman. “Those two had that in common.”

“So when can I go to a book nook?” Patton suddenly asked. “Like, a proper one! I already have a thousand books in mind– can you do things inside the book nooks? Like paint?”

Logan’s smile fell, which Roman seemingly caught notice of.

“You can’t go inside a book nook,” Roman said pointedly. “Logan is pretty anti-book nook nowadays.”

“But you just–”

“What happened here tonight was an accident,” Logan curtly said. “And I am not ‘anti-book nook’, I just…”

He looked down at Jule Verne’s book in his lap, now almost longingly. His lips remained pressed in a tight frown as he closed his eyes.

“Roman can open the book nooks if he wants, but I simply do not prefer them. And he–” Logan glared at Roman– “respects that preference.”

Roman just shrugged and returned to his cup of sugar.

“Besides, there...well, there is not much reason for them to be open without my grandfather,” Logan finally managed to say. “He got more use out of them than I do. And I...I have other things to focus on.”

“Yeah honestly, I’m surprised it was able to even happen tonight,” Roman added. “Logan’s magic is as dull as his philosophy books.”

Patton blinked. “Wait, it is? Why?”

“He doesn’t use it anymore, I guess?” Roman then looked at Logan with a softer, more pitiful look. “Nowadays, there isn’t much of a reason for it to manifest in the first place.”

Logan remained quiet, almost guilty but with little understanding as to why.

“Well then,” Patton said, clearing the air with an unsteady laugh. “That was a lot to take in.”

“Again, I apologize, Patton, for the mess.” Logan pushed up his glasses, setting his cup down. Back to business. “If we could just forget that this happened, I would–”

“Forget this happened? How– I can’t forget this happened!”

“Yeah, a bit unfair of you to ask,” Roman tagged on.

“As I said earlier, this is the first time someone’s ever found out about this.” Logan felt his jaw tighten. He faced his attention towards Patton once more. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Patton. Magic is real. Books can be real– more than they already are. This obviously has to be a secret–”

“Or does it?”

Logan’s mouth dropped. Roman bit back a smirk.

“Well this just got interesting .”

“What are you insinuating, Patton?” Logan asked slowly, trying to ignore Roman’s smugness.

“I–” Patton sat up straighter– “have an– an ultimatum for you!”

“Oh, you cannot be serious . ”

“In exchange for my secrecy,” Patton declared, “you will let me explore these... book nooks at least– at least once a day!”

“Deal!” Roman cheered, starry-eyed and mouth agape.

“Absolutely not ,” Logan dully said at the same time. He narrowed his eyes at Roman, then at Patton. “If this is your attempt at threatening me, I can assure you, there are other ways to maintain secrecy.”

“Logan!” Roman scolded.

“Okay! Bad approach, bad approach,” Patton laughed nervously, hands in the air. “I’m not trying to threaten you Logan, it’s just…”

Patton glanced at Roman, and then at the book in Logan’s hand.

“Isn’t just a part of you scared of your magic fading for good?”

For a brief moment, Logan was taken back by Patton’s question.

“I…” He shook his head. “The book nooks do not maintain my magic, Patton.”

“But the lack thereof has certainly nulled it!” Patton pointed out. “As you said–” He adopted a very serious tone, as if reciting from a book– “you can’t understand the meaning of things without understanding the implied lack thereof.”

Roman looked at Logan with a shit-eating grin.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Patton,” Logan gritted out, frustrated that it did make sense, a strange amount of it.

“Look, you don’t even have to be here for the book nook if you really don’t want to.” Patton’s eyes widened. An idea seemingly struck his head. “In fact, you don’t even have to be in the shop. ”

Logan’s heart dropped.

“Patton…” he began warningly.

“No, no, hear me out!” More knowingly– and perhaps, more teasingly– he sing-songed, “This could help with your speech!”

Roman’s smile, seemingly for the first time tonight, faltered. Logan clenched his jaw shut, nodding for Patton to continue.

“You’re looking for the purpose of art in a purposeless life, right? But here’s the thing — you haven’t been experiencing its existence in life to begin with!”

“This is already making my brain hurt,” Roman groaned. Logan rolled his eyes as Patton went on.

“So, I am going to change my ultimatum a bit to leave some room for field research .”

Logan, against his will, became intrigued. (He was always intrigued with Patton, damn it all.)

“In typical fantasy style, I am going to send you on one arts-related quest for each day I want to explore a book nook,” Patton explained. “So you’ll go outside of the shop and explore the artistic adventure I send you on, while Roman and I go and explore a book nook! Mess-free, I promise! That way, we both get something we need!”

“I don’t need to go outside, Patton,” Logan grumbled, fully aware of how childish he sounded. “I have books.”

“Lame.” Roman stuck out his tongue at Logan.

“And also untrue,” Patton said, annoyingly fatherly. “Where have books got you so far?”

Roman’s jaw dropped, flying around Logan’s head and screaming a chorus of “ohh!”s and “aww shit!”s, tossing in a “what a burn!” into the kindled flames that was Logan.

“You need experience, Logan,” Patton said with a small smile. “If you think life and art is so meaningless, then go and prove that yourself! Where do you think all these philosophers get their start, anyway?”

For some strange reason, Logan thought of Virgil Aries’ book.

“You can’t study life without living it,” Patton filled in softly. “In the same way, you can’t study art without experiencing it. If you want to know what it means in an...an un-alive life, you need to see it alive first.”

Logan hated to admit it, but Patton’s words drew him closer to an answer than anything he had written in the past week. Even his fingers twitched with navy magic, as if they were some sort of metal detector that found its treasure buried deep, deep within the sandy shores of Logan’s chest, where he knew his magic sat, unused.

He glanced at Roman, who had grown quiet. Still, he stared at Logan with a certain amount of knowing. It was as if Roman was standing at the edge of the ocean beside him, not quite sure if he should take a step in. Logan then glanced over at his stray papers on his counter.

At that moment, Logan knew what he wanted. He wanted to work; he wanted to finish his speech; he wanted his answer .

But there was something in Roman’s knowing eyes and in his heart that knew he wanted more.

“Fine. I concede to these agreements.”

Patton perked up with a bright smile. Even Roman looked surprised.

“Super! I already know the perfect first adventure — I’ll email you the details tonight!” He paused. “What’s your email?”

Logan forced a chuckle. “You can have my phone number instead. Perhaps it’d be easier.”

“Smooth,” Roman muttered, masking it under a cough. Logan glared daggers at him, which only grew his smile.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow then!” Patton stood up, putting on his hat with a grin. He reached over to enthusiastically shake Logan’s stiff hand. "I bet this'll help you finish your speech in no time!"

"Of course," Logan said, looking over to Roman and awaiting his mutual disbelief. However, Roman remained still and quiet, deep in thought.

Patton continued shaking Logan's hand. “Adventure is out there, my friend! And we’re both going to find it!”

“Sure,” Logan deadpanned, already regretting his decision.

“Bon voyage, gentlemen!” Patton said brightly as he made his way towards the door.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Patton,” Logan called out, one last feeble attempt at salvaging the situation.

Patton stopped at the door and turned back to face Logan.

“ ‘If there were no thunder, men would have little fear of lightning’. ”

“...That barely makes sense here, Patton.”

Patton winked. “Which means it barely does!”

And with that, Patton left the shop, and Logan’s adventure began.

—

next chapter >

#TS Storytime 2021 #gabbie writes things #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logicality #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan/patton #roman/virgil #logic/morality #creativity/anxiety

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